1. Two Roads Converge

6

**WINNER OF CAPTAIN ARCHER'S SITE AWARD FOR GREAT WRITING**

**WINNER OF ENTERPRISE ENDEAVORS CHOICE AWARD **

Disclaimer_: All things Star Trek belong to that show, and whoever holds the rights at the moment. This story is being written for pleasure, not profit._

Rating:_ PG-13 just to be on the safe side. If this changes, I'll re-rate the chapter._

Synopsis_: An Archer/T'Pol romance that begins at the end of The Seventh. It started out as a tag to that enjoyable episode, but has taken on a life of its own**. If all goes as planned, their long road will take them through dark and rocky places as they discover emotions, and lose prejudices**_

**A Trip Through Dark And Rocky Places**

By

_**Lattelady**_

Ch 1 _Two Roads Converge_

Jonathan Archer tossed and turned. Though his body was exhausted, his mind wouldn't relax enough to let him fall asleep. Giving up the fight he slid out of bed and pulled a sweatshirt on over his t-shirt. He was tempted to head for the gym, but he knew a workout wasn't the answer. After spending the last three and a half days with T'Pol, helping her apprehend the Vulcan renegade Menos, exercise was the last thing his sore muscles needed.

"Stay, Porthos," he commanded, as the dog came quickly awake. "No sense in both of us losing sleep."

Archer sprawled in his chair; his head leaned against the bulkhead and envied his dog's ability to curl back up without missing a beat. _But you weren't there Porthos; you didn't see what it did to her._ He silently accused the animal, as he realized that if he was going to get any sleep, he needed to follow that thought to its conclusion. _What was it about T'Pol that was causing him such unrest?_

All his life he had disliked and distrusted Vulcans. When one had been forced on him as a Science Officer, he had resented it, and been prepared to put up with her for as long as the eight-day mission lasted. When the time had come for her to leave, he had been the one to suggest she stay. Then six months later, when The High Command would have taken her away from him, _away from Enterprise_, he amended; he had fought to keep her.

Over the last year he had learned that not all Vulcans were the same. When it came to The High Command, he still didn't trust them, and he was beginning to see that they weren't always representative of their race. During the months of hard work in close quarters, he had come to like and respect his Science Officer, as well as others of her kind that they had met along the way. _Be honest with yourself, Jon, you like and respect T'Pol, the woman, not just the Sub-Commander._

He let the new thought sink in, along with all of its implications. When he added the information he had learned about her on this last mission, he realized that was what was causing his restlessness. _For the first time in his life, he had seen a Vulcan look_ _vulnerable and it had awakened something deep in him_. But a little voice inside his head, whispered that if it had been any other Vulcan, he would be sleeping as soundly as his dog, instead of sitting in his quarters imagining dark eyes that appeared suddenly young and afraid, as they looked to him for help.

She had said she wanted him along on the mission because she needed someone she could trust. At the time he hadn't realized the importance of those words. _A Vulcan ship had been warping to her aid, but it was a human she asked for help. It was a human who she had let see her indecisiveness and her moments of confusion_._ But most surprising, of all the humans she could have chosen on Enterprise, she had chosen him. _He knew it was important, but the significance was eluding him. All he could see was the look on her face when she had doubted herself! _How had she known he would be able to give her the answers she needed?_ Given his history with her race, he should have been the last person she turned to, instead of the first!

Without realizing what he was doing, Archer stood and headed for the hatch. There were questions that needed to be answered, and only one person who had the answers. He would bet almost anything that she was just as awake as he was.

……………………….

"Come in," T'Pol answered as he rang the bell on her door. Though she had been attempting to meditate ever since leaving the Captain's cabin a few hours earlier, she wasn't making any progress. At the time she had thanked him for his help and told him that if he ever needed someone who he could trust, he could count on her. _How could she be of help to anyone else, when she was still looking for answers in herself?_

"Don't get up." He saw her start to rise from her meditation pose. Despite her exhaustion, she moved with a fluid grace that was all her own. "Did I come at a bad time?"

"Not at all." She relaxed back on the deck and watched the tall human in the flickering light from her meditation lamp. "What can I do for you, Captain?"

"I came to make sure you were all right." He crouched down across from her. She was a petite woman and always made him feel larger than he was. As a child he had been an ardent fan of J.R.R. Tolkien, and in that moment, he was struck with the thought that she was the personification of Arwen. He fought, and lost, a battle to keep a grin from his face. He doubted she would appreciate the comparison, though the thought warmed him.

"As you can see, I am doing my nightly meditation." Her eyebrow rose in response to his smile. _What was he seeing that she was unable to hide?_

"You should be asleep, Sub-Commander, you've had a rough few days."

"As should you, Sir." She countered.

"Since neither of us seem able to sleep, would it help to talk about it?" Archer settled on the deck across from his second in command. "You weren't on that Vulcan ship long enough to have done anything except hand over Menos."

"As I told you earlier, I planned on dealing with this by myself, besides I thought it unwise to tell them you had come with me. The High Command would take a dim view of humans interfering in our business. Though I needed your help, I didn't want to do anything that would damage relations between Vulcan and Earth."

"You're not worried that Menos will tell them?"

"Worried?" She gave him a look he knew well, one that in the past had made him wonder why he even bothered, but tonight it didn't phase him. "It is illogical to spend time thinking about something over-which I have no control. But in answer to your question, I don't think he will say anything. He is Vulcan, no matter how long he has been away. To be captured by another Vulcan is one thing, but to have had a human involved would be a loss of honor."

"I had to ask," he muttered as he rolled his eyes.

"Captain--"

"T'Pol, you're my second in command, it is permissible for you to call me Jonathan when not on duty." Archer hadn't expected the words that popped out of his mouth, but once they were out, he realized it was about time he said them.

"Jonathan," she corrected herself before she lost her nerve. The sound of her given name coming from him was soothing, like the mint tea she had come to favor before bed. "My mind is unsettled, and it appears that yours is as well. Maybe it is something I can help you with. Have you ever tried meditation? I could guide you."

"Not a mind meld!" He shook his head as he remembered what had happened to her when a meld had been forced on her.

"NO!" She held up her hand as if to fend him off. "No, a guided meditation, nothing more. Only those trained in the art of melds should attempt them."

Over the flickering of the lamp, he could see the need that her eyes expressed. Something had happened that had knocked down all her walls in the last four days, though he was glad she was relaxed enough with him to let it show, he was worried about her.

"You should get comfortable Cap--Jonathan." She nodded as he slipped off his running shoes. She took a moment to let her eyes wander over his body as he stretched and pulled off his sweatshirt. An almost smile tugged at her lips, as his scent moved past her nose. There was a time not too long ago when she had found his fragrance unsavory. That had begun to crumble at the siege of P'Jem, and disappeared completely, two weeks later when she had spent most of the night tied to him as they were held hostage.

"T'Pol?" Archer smiled, if he didn't know better he would have sworn she was staring at him.

"Move closer," she ordered. Though refusing to acknowledge the wicked grin that made his eyes sparkle, she scooted toward him until she met him half way, and their knees met, encircling her lamp. "Now take my hands." She saw him hesitate and it was her turn to inwardly smile. "It's all right, Jonathan. It is the way it is done in guided meditation. The teacher guides the student, and touch can be useful."

As she lay her hands palms down on his, and rested them on their knees, he felt the quiver that ran through her body. _Who was the teacher and who was the student, and what was the lesson being taught? _But before he could ask, he was filled with a peace and warmth from her touch. Where their knees met, he could feel her skin radiating heat through her loose fitting pants and his sweatpants. The small bones of her hands seemed to melt into his larger ones. A spicy scent that he had only caught brief whiffs of in the past filled his senses. _T'Pol, _her name rang through his mind and he prayed that all the stories of Vulcan telepathy were lies.

"Now close your eyes and concentrate on the flame. Try and picture the flame of the lamp between us. _To meditate is to see the flame with your eyes closed_. All your thoughts will center on the fire. Can you see it?"

"Yes," he whispered, as her voice filled him. He could feel the flame as well, but he doubted they were referring to the same heat!

"Now follow my breathing and keep centered on the fire." T'Pol breathed deeply and listened to the answering breaths coming from Jonathan. The familiar scent of the meditation candle filled her nostrils, and mixed with the intoxicating scent of the man she knew she could trust. It beckoned her mind toward gates that had been sealed 17 years ago.

She saw herself standing before a great lock, one with rusted and rotting hinges. Holding tightly to the hands that kept her bound to reality, she shoved against the lock and felt it begin to give way. Another hard shove as she gripped tighter to Jonathan, drawing strength from him, made the lock tremble and shake. On the third shove, the lock gave. Great floodgates opened and T'Pol was assailed with memories.

She lived again the chase through the heat of Riza's lazy jungle paradise. Not in sketchy dream quality, like before, but in lifelike reality. All the bright colors of that planet filled her eyes and the scents of exotic flowers and the sounds of wild birds surrounded her. She felt the ground soft against her feet as she ran, and the gun cool in her hand. She heard her voice call out a warning as the men she hunted kept on running. She heard one of them stumble and fall, and then he was before her, his gun pointed toward her. Shots were fired. The gun in her hand burst energy and the man died!

"NOOOOO!" T'Pol screamed, as she heard her name being called over and over again. "Jonathan," she whispered.

"Shhhh, it's all right, you're all right." Archer looked down at the woman he had pulled partially across his lap, and into his arms when she bagan to shake. "I won't let you go."

"I'm all right, Jonathan." She looked up at him, as she forced her hands to let go of his shirt where she had been gripping it. "It's gone, the memory lock is gone. He would have killed me if I hadn't gotten him first." She shivered at the thought.

Archer moved aside her meditation lamp and lifted her easily until she sat in his lap to share his body heat, as he wrapped his discarded sweatshirt around her shoulders. "Can you live with the memory?" He asked as he lifted her chin so she would meet his eyes. "T'Pol?" The look on her face was almost his undoing. She was open and alive, with every vestige of emotion clearly on display.

"I can now." She tried to put her Vulcan face back on, but only succeeded in looking sad instead of calm.

"Just rest." He pulled her closer as she tried to wiggle out of his arms. "That's an order, T'Pol." He was careful to give the order to the woman instead of the Sub-Commander, thereby giving her a choice. She was stronger than he, and they both knew it. If his touch was distressing to her, she could easily break free. "Just rest."

He felt her nod her head against his shoulder and relaxed in the pleasure of holding her. She was lighter than he remembered, but the last time he had been able to hold her like this, she had been unconscious. He had been too afraid for her safety to be able to enjoy her slight weight against his body. Now he was afraid it was something that he would never be able to forget.

Looking down into the sleeping face of his first officer he shook his head in wonder. _Unemotional Vulcans like hell! He figured he believed in them, about as much as she disbelieved in time travel!_


	2. Traveling Companions

17

**Ch 2 Traveling Companions**

_Propriety _the word kept sneaking up on Jonathan Archer and kicking him in the head. He could remember learning it in a fourth grade vocabulary lesson from Mrs. Todd. Propriety, '_the standard of what is socially acceptable in conduct or speech.' _As he muttered the words to himself he could hear what his dad had told him when he went out on his first date. '_Son, if you've gotta ask yourself if it's the right thing to do, then it usually isn't!'_

"Okay, dad, I'm reading you loud and clear." He sighed as he looked down at the sleeping face of his First Officer. It had been over an hour since she had fallen asleep in his arms. At first, he'd told himself that he wanted to make sure she didn't have any nightmares, _just hold her for a few minutes, until he knew she was all right_. In that short space of time he'd discovered she wasn't all right, _she was terrific!_ He'd never imagined he'd get the chance to be this close, or to watch her completely unguarded. Hell, a few months ago, he wouldn't have wanted too. Now, he couldn't think of anything else he'd rather do.

One last time he ran his hand lightly through her hair. It felt soft and thick against his skin and made him wonder why it'd taken him so long to notice her. Though if Dr. Phlox was correct, he'd been reacting to her as a woman on a sub-conscious level for a while now. Smiling he brushed a wayward lock behind her delicate ear. That's when it hit him. _She's Vulcan!_ What the hell was he doing! Her kind had been a thorn in his side for as long as he could remember. This whole thing stunk of trouble.

There was no doubt in his mind that they had gone beyond what was _socially acceptable_ on Earth, let alone Vulcan! He winced when he thought of what Admiral Forrest, and God forbid, The High Command, would say, if he and T'Pol were caught like this. Though innocent as it was, looks were deceiving. And this was one hell of a deceiving situation.

They were in her quarters, with only the light from her small meditation lamp and the stars, to keep the darkness out. It was the middle of the night, and no one could possibly mistake his sweat pants and long sleeved t-shirt, or her loose fitting silky shirt and pants for a uniform. His usually calm cool Vulcan was sound asleep in his arms, following an outburst that was considered emotional even by human standards. The sweatshirt he'd taken off due to her hot dry quarters was wrapped around her shoulders to keep her from shivering. Their only saving grace was that they were seated on the hard deck, without even a bulkhead to lean against. _Oh yeah, Jon, you'd better get yourself going. If she wakes up there'll be hell to pay!_

He was the Captain and she the First Officer. _But wait a sec, his mind ground to a halt_. Was she _really_ in his chain of command? She had told him once that one of the reasons she was placed on Enterprise was to look out for the Vulcan interest. So that made her what? _Before he let himself go chasing the whys and wherefores of that question he slammed on the brakes_. He was enjoying holding her too much. It would be too easy to let any little distraction keep his mind off what was important. At that rate they'd still be together in her cabin when Alpha shift began. _That would NOT be good!_

With one last regret for what couldn't ever be, he shifted her gently, then got carefully to his feet, while never taking his eyes off of her sleeping features. Two steps, then three, and they were beside her bed. As he bent to lay her down, he felt her muscles tighten, and the flutter of lashes against his cheek. He froze when he looked down and found himself staring into a pair of deep green eyes.

"T'Pol--." Lack of sleep, mixed with a highly unusual away mission, had worn them both thin. He wanted to say so much, but now wasn't the time.

"What happened?" Her voice sounded husky, and he felt her breath against his face.

"You fell asleep." For the last three plus days they'd lived on catnaps and adrenaline while rounding up Menos, and returning him to The Vulcan High Command. He needed her to know that she was safe, and he hadn't stayed while she slept to take advantage of her. Anything else could wait until later.

"Oh." She shivered as he pulled his arms from around her and stepped back, taking his body heat with him.

"You were exhausted, we'll talk in the morning." Archer pulled the covers over her with one hand, while he reached for her communicator and placed it beside her head, on the pillow, with the other. He knew she'd been having nightmares every since Tolaris, a freethinking Vulcan, had forced her in a mind-meld. The situation with Menos wasn't going to help. "Your communicator is beside you, and I'm right down the hall if you need me."

"Thank you," she blinked once, but lost the battle to keep her eyes open.

As he knelt and blew out her meditation lamp, sending the room into darkness, he swore he heard the breathy whisper of his first name on her lips. It caught him up short for a moment, as warmth radiated from somewhere in the region of his solar plexus. A tender smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he took one last look at her peacefully sleeping, before he slipped quietly out of her quarters to the sound of her deep and even breathing.

…………………

With a sigh Jonathan closed his cabin door and leaned against it. For just a moment he felt like a kid who had snuck in past curfew and not gotten caught. Shaking his head at the odd feeling, he slid into bed, too tired to argue with Porthos, when the dog jumped up on the mattress and curled against him. "Okay, just for tonight, but you're still not getting any cheese!" With a sleepy grin he felt he'd won at least part of that round with his pet.

His earlier restlessness was gone, to be replaced by a sense of well being that relaxed him more with every breath he took. Something personal and intimate had just transpired with T'Pol. As Captain of the Enterprise, he hoped it was the first small bond leading to a better understanding between their two species. As a man, he refused to look at it any closer than that.

He didn't realize he'd left his sweatshirt wrapped securely around her until he was in that twilight time of sleep, where things are often remembered that are best forgotten. For one quick flash he was glad he had left something of his behind, to keep her warm. It was a strange possessive thought that was too complicated to be understood, so he just enjoyed the feeling. Then the idea was gone, as quickly as it had come, to be replaced by amazement that she had been able to sleep at all, considering she was practically wearing a garment that _had_ to smell of _human!_

………………………

For months T'Pol had been able to keep the dreams at bay, which her unwise experimentation with Tolaris had awakened. Meticulous adherence to her meditation schedule had been her protection, but over the last four days, there had been none, except for the aborted attempt earlier in the evening. When the dream began, it was different enough from the others that her secondary defense mechanism didn't kick in. She had trained herself to wake-up before she could be caught in the throws of the nightmare, but tonight she didn't waken. Tonight she walked the foggy streets of San Francisco again, and tonight it was different.

She could feel the pull in her calves from climbing the steep hills of the city. The Vulcan Consulate was located on a secluded street in the Russian Hill District. She had been walking for hours. Her climb had led her all the way up Union Street until she could see across the Bay toward Sausalito, though the lights of the Compound where she lived were blanketed in fog that was being sucked in through the Golden Gate.

She had heard talk of North Beach, an area of the city that had once been a haven for writers and intellectuals. That was her destination, though why she wasn't sure. According to the map in her pocket, Union would cross Columbus and she would be there.

When the two streets met, they circled a tiny park. Like many others in this odd city, it was nestled in among one of the many crowded neighborhoods. And like each neighborhood, which boasted a different name, it also had a different personality. The large main park made sense to her ordered mind, but she considered these scattered little patches of green and gold a waste of valuable space. Or so she had always thought until she crossed the street and walked under one of the old-fashioned lamps that lined the walkway.

It was standing there under the muted light from the old iron lamp, with the fog muffling the footsteps of others around her that she first heard the music. Walking with sure steps, she entered an old brick building that smelled of coffee, that strangely human drink, and something else that she couldn't place. As she looked around and let the sights and sounds sink in, she became wary. Had she trespassed where she didn't belong? What Earth customs were these, when men and women danced to this strange music? And what was making her feel so odd? It couldn't be the jagged notes wailing from the unusual S-shaped horn that was being played; she was Vulcan and things like that didn't affect her! _Maybe it was the foggy wet climate that made her feel light-headed_. After all she was born to a desert planet.

Then she saw _him_. The man dressed in gray, sitting alone at a table on the edge of the crowd. He was tall, with brown hair and craggy features that radiated strength and determination. His intensity of focus was unusual in a human, but it was there in his eyes, much like the gaze of a Priest of the Kolinar. Except where they looked inward, this man looked outward. He appeared as out-of-place in his planet bound surroundings, as a scholar from P'Jem would be traveling among the stars.

While the unusual human had taken her mind off the people around her, she had caught the attention of a Vulcan male. Years of training jumped to the forefront, and T'Pol became alert. Though all her life she had followed the teachings of Surak, to control her emotions, instead of letting them control her, she felt a quick shaft of fear when the young man approached her uninvited. There was something about him that spoke of ancient rituals, which she had yet to experience.

"Do you feel the music?" Tolaris asked as he moved closer to her. "What emotions does it make you feel?"

"None, I feel none," she backed away from him. Edging closer to the table, and the human, who was now watched her.

"But you must! You've come so far, let me help you to break free of the locks they have put on your emotions." Tolaris held his hand toward her face but she knew she couldn't let him touch her again.

Back in her cabin on Enterprise, T'Pol tossed and turned. _The nightmare was close_. Logic told her that if she could wake up, she would be all right. But there was something else there, too, something that held a thread of trust. She knew if she concentrated, she'd find it, and the nightmare would be beaten and never return.

Her head thrashed to the side as if to avoid a strong hand with fingers reaching for pressure points on her cheek and temple. As she moved, her face was buried in a soft cotton sweatshirt that smelled of fresh ground coffee and man. She breathed deeply of the scents that had meant safety to her when she had doubted herself over the last few days. _Did the answer lie there? _She whimpered in her sleep, and let the dream cover her again.

Looking around the restaurant, Tolaris watched her closely with a very un-Vulcan like smile. He had been drawn to her with the Pon Farr intensity he had taught himself to call up to his will. Now she was almost in his grasp. If he could make her free her emotions, she would be his for the taking.

"_T'Pol," V'Lar's soft voice caught the younger woman's attention. It took her a moment to realize that the old Vulcan diplomat was touching her mind, and not in the room with her. "Remember what I told you when we visited. Trust can be the beginning of a bond, but it must be recognized before it can strengthen. The conclusion may not seem logical, now, but in time the logic will reveal itself." _

The memory of the other woman was the linkT'Pol had needed. Suddenly things were familiar and the ground seemed firm under her feet once again. With a straight back, she walked up to the man at the table, but this time she knew who he was. "Captain, I need to be with someone I can trust." She knew she had said these words to him before, but the context was incorrect.

Jonathan Archer stood up and looked over her shoulder at the angry Vulcan who was closing in on them. His eyes darted to the troubled ones of the woman in front of him. "Why?"

"If you don't wish to help me, I understand." She shivered as she felt the heat radiating from Tolaris's body. It made her want to take a step closer to Jonathan, but the decision was his.

"This move is an unwise one." Tolaris tried to step between them. He knew his strength was greater than the human's, and once the Pon Farr was fully awakened, it would be an easy victory.

"She is a member of my crew, you'll not hurt her!" Archer stepped between the two Vulcans with a phase pistol in his hand. "Leave and don't ever come back."

"Yours is a puny race. You will never win a Vulcan!" The hate in his eyes was almost a living thing as he turned, and walked away.

"Thank you, Captain. I do not seem to be myself tonight." She shivered as she deflected the emotions that Tolaris threw her way. The three of them had brushed very close to something ancient and forbidden to off-worlders. She deemed it illogical that a human could be part of it; therefore she unwisely dismissed it as unimportant.

"Give me your hand." Archer stepped closer to her. "It's easier to navigate a rough and tricky path when you have help."

"You have helped me before." She acknowledged, though she still tried to pull her cloak of Logic around her.

"We've helped each other." He smiled into her beautiful face and watched the battle that she lost, as her hand reached for his, meeting it halfway.

When her warmer skin touched his cooler skin, the world tilted and she blinked to keep her balance. When she opened her eyes, they were sitting on the floor of her quarters on Enterprise with her meditation lamp burning between them. On her bed a young Vulcan woman slept in peace, with a gray Star Fleet sweatshirt wrapped around her shoulders.

………………………….

The next morning T'Pol awoke feeling clear headed and refreshed. It took her a moment to remember that it was only yesterday that they had returned from capturing Menos. Her nose twitched as she rose to do her morning stretches. _What was that odd smell?_

As she straightened her bed, she found a man's large sweatshirt between where her body had been and the bulkhead. She remembered the Captain wearing it when he came to her quarters the night before, and taking it off when he sat with her to meditate. But she remembered little else after that. _Jonathan, she had called him that?_ The rest was a dream wasn't it?

……………………………

"Mornin', Sir." Commander Charles 'Trip' Tucker III greeted his friend and commanding officer as he walked into the Captain's dining room for breakfast. Archer was drinking coffee and reading from a Padd. "Whacha readin there, Cap'n?"

"Lord Of The Rings, I haven't read it in years!" He smiled at his friend and shoved the Padd across the table. He couldn't shake the image of T'Pol as Arwen. It had caused him to dig through the ships library until he found the book he was looking for and downloaded it to his Padd. "I sure did enjoy it as a kid." _He had had a terrible crush on Arwen, until he got his first close look at Vulcans, and then he had let his prejudice ruin his joy of the saga that had so enthralled him._

"Me too," Trip laughed. "I spent the whole summer I was twelve roamin' the land behind my Daddy's house, carrying a bow and arrow, huntin Orcs."

"A bow and arrow?" Jonathan grinned and nodded. "That would've made you Legolas?" He hoped his friend didn't ask who he had identified with from the book.

"You bettcha! I didn't care if he did have pointy ears, ya gotta admire a fella that loyal and brave." Trip ate as he tried to figure out how to work the conversation back to the mission that had taken Archer, Mayweather, and T'Pol away from Enterprise for almost four days. Every time he tried to bring it up his friend refused to discuss it. He had a suspicion that the Captain was using the book as a distracter, why else would he be reading it?

"Good morning, Captain, Commander," T'Pol stood very straight as she walked into the Captain's Mess. "I have brought the information from the scans that were run on the course we will be following over the next three days." She handed it to Archer as she sat down. All the while telling herself that she had gotten the data early to be an efficient Science Officer. Forget the fact that carrying the Padd gave her hands something to keep them busy.

"Thank you T'Pol, but you didn't have to do it before breakfast." He studied the Padd as he tried to separate his First Officer from the person he had spent the last four days with. The woman beside him was as cool and calm as he she had ever been, there was no trace in her eyes of the doubt and guilt that had driven her to ask for his help, or sleep in his arms.

"Anything interesting up ahead?" Trip grinned at the opening that had been left him. "You know, interesting like the _last_ mission you guys were on?"

The sudden quiet that fell over the Mess made the engineer look up, and put down his coffee cup. He was met by two sets of green eyes, one deep and unchanging, and the other deceptive for their ability to move from friendly banter to unyielding authority. Both said loud and clear that the topic was not going to be discussed.

"Ya can't blame a guy for tryin'?" Trip took a quick swig of coffee as he fought the feeling that his friend was siding with the Vulcans.

"Yes I can, and I will." Archer had moved into captain mode, though part of him stood back and watched knowing that it wasn't the Captain who shielded T'Pol from ideal gossip. "There will be no more discussion of this away mission, Commander. That's an order, and I am leaving it up to you to be sure the rest of the crew follows suit."

"Yes Sir." The young engineer had run up against Archer's stubbornness before, and he knew there was no budging him. But what really peaked his curiosity was T'Pol's reaction. Instead of the icy stare she had given him earlier, when Jon began speaking, she suddenly became very interested in her hands, which she'd folded neatly in her lap.

"Good," the Captain nodded, and then smiled as he contemplated the information on the Padd. "On your way to engineering, stop by and tell Hoshi to call a staff meeting for 0900, in The Situation Room."

"Yes, Sir!" Trip stood, taking his coffee with him. He could tell a dismissal when he heard one, besides he wanted time to think about T'Pol's odd reaction. In the past she never let a chance go by to take a pot shot at him. _Something very strange was going on. _For one fleeting second he wondered if he could get Mayweather to spill the beans, but decided that he had no wish to bring the Captain's wrath down on the young officer. With a little care, he could figure it out himself, or he wasn't Charles Tucker, III!

"Captain, that was unnecessary." T'Pol reached for her cup, and stared into the light color of warm chamomile tea. The pot had been waiting for her when she arrived, she wondered for a moment if Chef had remembered her preference, or if someone else had ordered it for her.

"I thought we'd agreed you'd call me Jonathan when not on duty?" He smiled at her, as she slipped unknowingly back into the less formal person he had becoming acquainted with recently. "And it was very necessary. The Vulcan High Command had asked that the mission remain top secret."

"When did you begin taking orders from the High Command?" In her mind she added _Jonathan, _but found it hard to say aloud.

"When their interests and mine are the same." He watched her as she looked everywhere but at him, he must have offended her, and that was the last thing he'd wanted to do. "Look T'Pol, about last night. I meant no disrespect to you or your people. I was only trying to help you."

"If there was any disrespect, it was on my part….." She took a deep breath and added, "Jonathan."

"How do you arrive at that conclusion?" He leaned on the table and turned toward her, so he could look her full in the face.

"I had offered to help you meditate, but instead of acting as guide, I took advantage in a way that was inexcusable. You trusted me enough to let our minds brush superficially, but instead of holding back and being a support for yours, I took what I needed in order to free myself from the last of the memory lock that had been placed at P'Jem seventeen years ago." Her face remained ridged and her shoulders stiff, but her unease was clear in her halting speech, as she searched for words to explain what had happened.

"Did you do it on purpose?" Archer sat back and contemplated this new information.

"I do not understand the question." Doubt shadowed her eyes. He was missing the important point. She had tried to help him, and had ended up needing help instead. There was a question of honor at stake.

"When I came to your quarters last night, did you decide it would be a good time to go rummaging around to see if there was anything in my head you could use." Part of him was uneasy; especially when he remembered the thoughts he'd been having about her lately. His words came out much stronger than he had planned.

"No!" _Could he really believe she would have so little honor?_ "Going any deeper than a person's public mind, is reserved for healers, or the sacrament of bonding, _Captain_."

There was no doubt in his mind that she had added his title in a small act of defiance. Vulcan women where purported to suppress their emotions like the men did, but the look on her face reminding him of the one she had given him when he had questioned her loyalty at P'Jem. He remembered thinking then, that there must be something tied to the female humanoid gene, which allowed women of such varying species to be able to convey to a any male, with one look, the same insulted disgust!

"T'Pol, I know very little of Vulcan mediation rituals. I was only asking."

"I would never trespass, --Jonathan," she whispered his name almost as an afterthought. "I had been searching for the remnants of the lock before you arrived. When I asked you to join me I had surmised that it was gone, since I was unable to find it."

Now Archer felt he was the trespasser. He knew T'Pol was an intensely private person and he could see how difficult it was, for her, to tell him what had happened, but he felt that it was something that she needed to discuss.

"The mental discipline that is required in the Falara Ritual is painful, and the process long and exacting. After what had transpired the last few days I didn't have the _ability_ to approach the block that had been left behind on my own. My hypothesis is that we had formed a bond of trust, and that is what I reached for in my meditation. Somehow, it allowed me to go much deeper than I could have on my own." She frowned slightly as if she was trying to figure out a difficult puzzle. "You must understand that what I've told you are things that are never spoken of outside of a-a-a, the group in which it takes place." She looked down at her hands, unable to find the words to tell him that these things are only shared in the closest of family ties.

"Your secret is safe with me." Jonathan wondered what she was leaving out, and who would have helped her if he hadn't been present. It was evident she wasn't comfortable talking about it. "The important thing is that you're all right." He slide his hand close to hers, but didn't dare touch her without permission. They were on a fragile bridge between the formality of their past and _something_…but what it was he didn't know. The explorer in him said it would be a bridge worth crossing.

"I am, what I believe you humans refer to as _'all right_.'" T'Pol carefully cut a small piece of fruit off the larger one on her plate. She was unsure of what Jonathan was asking; the particular Human idiom he used had meanings on a number of different levels and she wasn't comfortable thinking that way. As it was, she had disclosed much more than she had intended.

As they ate in silence, her eyes fell on the Padd between them. "Was there anything of particular interest to you in the scans that I brought in?"

"Funny you should mention that," he smiled, knowing exactly why she had changed the subject so abruptly. "There is a Minshara class planet two days away that I think would be an interesting place to visit."

She looked over her plate to the information between them and carefully swallowed her food. "That would be unwise, Captain."

"Unwise, Sub-Commander?" They were back on duty, and had both slipped easily into their appropriate roles.

"Yes Captain, very unwise. As you can see, it is a pre-warp civilization." She stood her ground, though she knew that if he chose to ignore her advice, she would back him up no matter the consequences.

"Those are rules set by The High Command, not Starfleet."

"Ahh and this is one of those times you do not have the same interests as they do?" Her eyebrow quirked to her hairline.

"Now you're sounding like your old self." He laughed as he looked her over carefully. The four days chasing Menos had taken their toll, and last night hadn't been easy, but her extremely dry sense of humor was back, and it felt good to have her challenge him, again.

"That is reassuring to know. I would hate to think I had gotten lost along the way." She found it challenging and enlightening to turn Earth slang around and toss it back at the speaker.

"T'Pol," this time he did let himself touch her, but only on the sleeve of her uniform. "I'd never let that happen." She didn't know how many times he'd almost lost her but had fought to get her back, and he never intended on telling her. He didn't give a damn who it was, from The High Command down to criminals, he would keep her safe.

She hadn't been prepared for his response, or his touch. She stored his odd remark away for later to study it, and research what he had really been saying. Whatever it was, she had obviously answered incorrectly. Needing to get them back on firmer ground, she quickly took the conversation to where it had started. "If you decide you would like to learn to meditate, Jonathan. I will guide you. All I ask is that we not start for a week or two. You will run into no more memory locks. Vulcans are only allowed one visit to P'Jem."

"But you had two!" He was struck with the thought that she had probably begun to unravel long before Menos came long. "And your experience with Tolaris, didn't help your situation any, did he?"

"Precisely," she nodded. She hadn't expected him to be so perceptive.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, then shook his head at her when she gave him a confused rather doubting look that used to make him want push her out the nearest air lock. For the first time he gave her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she really didn't understand what he was saying. Maybe she wasn't rubbing her _superior_ Vulcan attitude in his face. "I'm sorry that being a member of my crew has caused you pain."

"Oh?"

"Ensign Sato to Captain Archer." The wall communicator filled the silent room with Hoshi's voice.

"Archer here." _Damn!_

"You've got a message from Admiral Forrest."

"Thanks, Hoshi, I'll be with him in a minute." At the intrusion, Archer shook his head, and T'Pol blinked, as if suddenly realizing where they were.

"Captain, your apology is unnecessary." It was the stock Vulcan answer and they both new it. "But thank you, Jonathan." She whispered as she stood and walked calmly out of the Mess, her carriage slim and supple, with the fluid easy grace that had been missing over the last few days.

"Put it through Hoshi." Though he spoke into the wall communicator, he couldn't take his eyes off the space T'Pol has been occupying. All that she had left behind her was an empty teacup and a whiff of lemon mixed with an exotic spice that he couldn't place, though he doubted he'd forget it.

After his brief conversation with Star Fleet, Archer sat and finished his coffee. The last few days had given him a lot to think about, most of it regarding his Science Officer. She was a strange mix of strength, stubbornness and tender beauty. He knew that he would never be able to look at her the same, again. He just wasn't sure what he was going to do about it.


	3. Detour Through Hell

29

------ Indicates meditation or dream sequences

…………… Indicates separation of real time events

Ch 3 Detour Through Hell 

Dr. Phlox rubbed his sore shoulder. It was still stiff from the Sub-Commander's nerve pinch that had stopped him from removing 12 millimeters of Ensign Mayweather's parietal lobe. Though he had heard about the Vulcan technique at an Interspecies Medical Exchange seminar, he had never quite believed in its effectiveness. Now he was a true believer. There was nothing like first hand experience to change ones mind! Though he had always considered himself a connoisseur of other culture's practices, this was one, he would have gladly foregone, especially when he considered why it had been needed.

It was late and the ship had been on emergency status for the last three days, but few of its crew had realized it, due to radiation poisoning they'd received from a class four black hole located in a trinary system they'd been plotting. As he scurried about feeding his various animals and watering his herbs, he contemplated writing a paper on the phenomenon that had created strange obsessions in them all, with the exception of the one Vulcan on board. It would make an interesting article for his collogues. Humming softly to himself, he let ideas for his medical presentation begin to form.

…………………………….

T'Pol sat at the workstation, in her quarters going over her notes of the last three days. She had been reading for half an hour, and with each page she had become more aware that something was very wrong. At first glance, it appeared that she had approached the problem faced by the Enterprise crew with classic Vulcan logic, but on a closer inspection it was far more than that. She had used the Science Academy's time honored method for observation and documentation of space phenomena, ignoring completely the immediacy of the situation. _What had she been thinking_? She was trained to not only think logically, but to make that logic work for her in just such an emergency as had presented itself.

Sitting back in her chair she realized that she had become sidetracked along the way. Something had taken precedent over the growing emergency. She had immersed herself in the power of logic to dodge the larger issue, her unusual response to what was happening to Jonathan Archer! Most telling of all was the fact that, though, even now when things appeared to be functioning normally, but she still maintained some doubts as to Enterprise's safety, the knowledge that Jonathan;_ no she shook her head and amended her thoughts. _Now that Captain Archer was thinking clearly and back in charge, she felt,_ no! Vulcans did not feel. _She _believed_ them to be safe.

T'Pol took a deep breath and went back to her notes. Maybe she had missed something? There must have been a reason that in an emergency she had focused on _The Captain._ With renewed vigor she reapplied her efforts. Again she stopped at the first of the odd entries. _When she had discovered that the illness had affected all the crew, it had caught her off guard that Archer had also been affected. _That entry in itself had no basis in logic! The Captain was human therefore he would be affected! Why had she thought he would be any more stable than the rest of the crew?

Much had happened that she didn't understand and the information from her notes should have cleared it up, instead it only added to her unclear thinking. Meditation had been her safe refuse for as long as she could remember. If logic didn't provide an answer, relaxation of the inner mind was what was needed to find the pieces that were missing.

Ten minutes later she had changed into lose fitting pants and a short robe. Over the years, the silky material against her skin had become a signal to her body to begin the relaxation process necessary to reach a deep meditative state. She was confident that she would find the answers buried within her.

As she slipped closer and closer to the veil that separated the conscious from the unconscious mind, her nose began to twitch, and unbeknownst to her she picked up an unusual fragrance that had been hiding in her footlocker. Ten days earlier, the Captain had left his sweatshirt in her quarters and she had never been able to find a _convenient_ time to return it to him. Taking deep breaths she let the smell of him guide her meditation.

……………….

T'Pol saw it again, as if it were happening for the first time. She had gone to his quarters, but not to warn him of impending disaster due to radiation poisoning, but on an errand of her own. _She had delved deeper into her unconscious memory than she had planned_. Her mind had taken her back almost ten days. She had come from informing Commander Tucker that the Captain and Lt. Reed were to be executed in less than an hour, on the primitive planet they were orbiting. They had to act immediately. She had not been her usual careful self when talking to the Commander. In her haste she had inadvertently stepped into his personal space. Due to his proximity, a backwash of extremely emotional human thought had hit her, before she could tighten her mental shields.

It was what the Commander had been feeling that sent her hurrying back to her own quarters, but instead of going there, she had ended up in the Captain's. Surrounded by his belongings she let her mental shields drop completely. His fragrance was in the air, and her mind felt reverberations of his in the room. In this place that spoke to her of trust and safety, she was able to set free the emotions she had received from Commander Tucker and closely examine them.

She was Vulcan and suppressed her feelings, but had lived long enough among humans to be able to recognize theirs. The first and strongest had been worry. Worry for his friend, but most puzzling of all was worry for _her._ Next came a need to protect. It had been a fierce primitive feeling where his friend was concerned, but underlying that was the need to _protect her_. It had a familial quality, _as if he were an older male sibling_. The Commander had always been an erratic individual, and his feelings, mixed with an echo of his thoughts, reflected that. Her logic could not make sense of what she had detected, but she could not deny its presence, either.

Her contemplation of Commander Tucker's thoughts had been interrupted by the contact of soft paws on her leg. "Porthos?" She knelt and, for the first time, ran her hand over his warm silky fur. She was unsure when the small quadruped that held the Captain's affections had stopped being just another odd odor she had had to contend with. He was a part of the unique individual who was her commanding officer, and she had accepted him as such. If at times she thought him unpleasant, she ignored it, but today she found him soothing, as he leaned into her body, enjoying the attention she gave him.

"You know he is gone, don't you?" She had seen members of the crew talk to the little animal as if he could understand, and she had always thought they were being childish. Today, she repaid the warmth she was getting from him by acknowledging his presence.

Reaching for where she knew The Captain kept his pet's food, she quickly filled the animal's dish as she patted his head. "That's the best I can do for you now. Soon your Captain will be back, and you will be all right." As she said the words she told herself that she was talking to the beagle, not to herself!

Standing straight with her hands folded behind her back, she looked around and shivered. _What had she been thinking coming here in the first place_? Commander Tucker's oddities must be rubbing off on her. As she looked around she detected nothing but the sounds of the dog eating, no residual emotions from the Commander, and none of what she had first picked up regarding the Captain. _'Well, his animal was fed in his absence_,' she thought. Now her presence was needed in the cargo bay. They were launching that Suliban ship no matter what condition its cloaking device was in._ Enterprise needed her captain and she was going to be sure she got him back!_

………………..

T'Pol's eyes fluttered as she worked to take control of her conscious mind instead of using the _Kalikar_ _Method_, or as humans would say, free-floating, that could be helpful when trying to find something buried deep in unconscious thought. She redirect it toward the incident that had just happened, instead of the confusion from the past. She took deep breaths and the scent in the air reminded her of the man she knew she had to find behind the veil of her unconscious thought. The mists closed in again and she took herself past closed doors to find the reasons for her illogical actions of the last three days.

……………………

Enterprise had succumbed to chaos. Everywhere the Sub-Commander looked crewmen were given to illogical and bazaar actions, with a determination that would put a Klingon to shame. She had gone to Captain Archer's quarters to try and warn him of what was going on. He had been distracted, when they talked earlier. Though he did not possess the singular focus of a Vulcan she knew that when it came to his ship and crew, nothing took precedent. In that light, his actions were out of character. What she had found when she arrived had been even more so.

It had been necessary to enter his domain against his wishes, that in itself was unusual, but the sight that had met her eyes was beyond unusual, even for a human. The Captain had been lounging on the arm of his couch, with his footgear nowhere in sight. T'Pol remembered blinking to be sure her vision had not been playing tricks on her. It wasn't as if she had not seen his feet before, just never when he was in uniform! The incongruity of the situation sent alarm bells ringing in her head. At her presence he had became surly, and almost threatening. _But there was more!_ _Now she could see what her conscious mind had refused to remember._

As he had watched her with an odd light in his eyes, she had caught a whiff of something strong and overpowering that had made her want to run, but conversely had frozen her in place, unable to unlock her gaze from his. _She had a strong mental picture of being pulled against him and his lips warm and wet against hers!_ But when he had stepped even closer, all he had done was calmly tell her to leave. She had shivered in surprise and shook off the odd pain in her midsection that had sent cold radiating through her, as he had turned his back and walked away. _Maybe she had not been as unaffected by the radiation, as she had thought? _The question drifted through her mind as she redoubled her efforts to tighten her mental shields and refocus her actions. There would be no other reason for her to imagine wild thoughts about the Captain, otherwise.

When she had gripped his arm to try and pull his attention back to what was important, she had felt his confusion, anger, and guilt, rolling off of him, despite her efforts to lock out his emotions. When he had turned his attention back to her, _a wall of mixed feelings had thundered at her_, as he had grabbed her by the shoulders to push her out of his quarters. That time it had been stronger and had a raw and primitive quality about it. It had fascinated her and taken her breath away.

Before she could refortify her barriers she had heard his mental scream: _damn Vulcans, _followed by an anguished cry of her name. It had been all mixed with the Captain's feelings of loss at his father's death. Then he had slammed the hatch in her face, as he had threatened to send her away.

…………………….

"Ooohhh!" T'Pol moaned as she was thrown from her meditative state. She gasped for breath as she wrapped her arms around her middle and leaned over. Cramping pains shot through her that she knew were not only physical in nature. _He was sending me away, back to Vulcan!_ She had remembered it all.

"The radiation poising?" She whispered as she grabbed onto the only part of what had happened that had any seat in logic. That was why she had been off track; why she had been thinking strange thoughts about Captain Archer; that was why she had _felt_. _No! She did_ _not feel. She was a Vulcan_! She respected him and maybe Ambassador V'Lar's prediction that they would become friends was coming true, but nothing more! She was suffering from radiation sickness that had to be it.

………………………..

"Dr Phlox?" T'Pol walked carefully into sickbay. She tried to maintain her usual posture and decisive stride, but it was a battle she was losing. "I believe I am in need of your services."

"You do look a bit under the weather. Lets get you over to one of the biobeds."

Ten minutes later Captain Archer hurried into sickbay. He had just gone to bed when Phlox had called him, but had felt the need to check on T'Pol when the call came through. "What's going on here?"

"It would seem that Vulcans aren't as unaffected by the radiation as we previously thought." Phlox went over his scans one more time to be sure of his findings. "As you can see," he pointed to the fluctuations of colors that outlined her brain scan. "Her neurotransmitters are only now getting back to normal, but in the cortex of her prefrontal area, they are still a bit skewed."

"Is she going to be all right?" Archer stepped closer to the bed and watched as the colors danced on the monitor, over his First Officer's head.

"_She_ is right here, and is very much all right!" T'Pol found it illogical that they would talk about her as if she wasn't in the room, especially when she was in complete procession of all her faculties. To make her point she sat up and swung her legs over the side. "Doctor, I see no reason for you to have bothered the Captain. He would have had my report on this in the morning."

"Wait a minute." Jonathan stepped in front of her before she could slide off the bed. "It wasn't a bother. And where do you think you're going?"

"To my quarters, there is work to be done." She put on her coolest face, and dared either man to try and stop her. "It was necessary for the doctor to confirm my diagnosis. Now that he has, I am through here." She needed to make some small amendments to her notes, before they were placed in the main computer. It would not do for others to see what she had discovered about herself.

"Not so fast Sub-Commander, I haven't releases you from Sickbay." Phlox smiled at her as he ran through her scan one more time. "I'm afraid I was remiss in my duties, Captain. T'Pol appeared to be functioning normally, so I didn't question it."

"That's understandable, you had a full house in here not too long ago." Archer's stomach did a slow roll as he remember how close they had all come to dying.

"I need to get back to work." She moved to try and get off the bed, but Archer again blocked her way. "Captain, it is necessary to post warnings around that trinary system and the black hole. It appears as if no species may be immune to its radiation. I need to begin--"

"Easy," he gently gripped her shoulders to keep her from jumping to her feet. "It's already been taken care of. I notified Star Fleet and they've gotten in contact with the High Command. I'll have this latest information passed along, as well. Tomorrow we're to start dropping marker buoys three days out in every direction. And the Vulcans are sending a ship to help us get the job done."

His touch had caught her off guard. She didn't know what to do about it. She knew they had touched in the past, in fact did so on a daily basis as they went about their respective jobs. Often they stood in each other's personal space, as they talked quietly about ship's business, both on and off duty. _When had that become the norm?_ Then there had been the time they spent a number of hours tied tightly together, while being held hostage, and when he'd been hurt in the caves on Mara 7, she had held him close to keep his body steady during the rough ride back to Enterprise in the shuttlepod. Her mind fastened on ten days ago when she had fallen asleep in his arms. Yes, Ambassador V'Lar was right, they had become friends. _Why were things different now?_ _Why did his touch make her unsure of proper actions? _His body was still leaning against her bed with his hip almost touching her thigh and his arm was behind her, not touching, but if she leaned back in the slightest, it would be there to support her.

"Be sure the Vulcans realize that though they are affected, its symptoms are subtle in them, but they last longer." The doctor and the Captain were deep in conversation, and she realized she had missed a good deal of it. "In fact, it might be best if I contact my counterparts within Vulcan Space Medical, with a full report of my findings."

"Good, now may I please return to my quarters?" T'Pol kept a tight grip on her careening insides. It was obvious that she had been out of control, which was unthinkable for a Vulcan. She realized she was not back to normal yet so the only logical place for her to be was the privacy of her cabin.

"I see no reason why you need to spend the night here, as long as you come back in the morning for a repeat of the scan. Your obsession was to save the ship. We are no longer in danger, so even if you have residual affects, there would be no need to act on them."

"Vulcan's do not have obsessions!" She arched her brow into her mahogany bangs, as she slid off the biobed.

"It would appear this one did, for which I'm very thankful." Archer reached for her arm to help her down, then pulled back when he knew she was steady on her feet.

Phlox watched, with interest, the interchange between the two people. The Captain had touched her, not once, but twice, and more surprisingly, she had let him. He was a keen observer of people and ever since the night that Archer had spent in sickbay with his dog, he had been paying special attention to these two. '_Well well,' he grinned to himself.' _"Sub-Commander, that was your only obsession? The deep need to find the reason behind what was happening to the crew, I mean?"

"As I've already stated, Vulcans do not have obsessions. We may become involved in our work, but that is all." It wasn't a lie, she assured herself. She had been involved in her work. Hers had been to find out what was happening to the crew, and the captain _was_ part of the crew. The fact that his problems had been more important to her was irrelevant, now that she realized it was caused by the radiation.

"Come on, I'll walk you back." Archer offered as they left sickbay.

"It is not necessary, besides I had planned on stopping for a cup of tea." It was soothing to have him back to his normal self.

"We can both have some then." He smiled down at her. "It'll give you a chance to tell me how in the hell you figured out that you were ill, too, when even Phlox was fooled." He didn't want to walk her to her door and leave it at that, but he was smart enough to realize that after all they had been through in the last few days, spending time alone with her in private was not a good idea. Her suggestion of the mess hall was ideal.

…………………..

Archer liked to think it had started for him on their mission to retrieve Menos, but he knew things had been building between them long before that. That mission had only confirmed what he had begun to wonder about all Vulcans and T'Pol in particular. They had a side they hid from the universe. She had allowed him to catch a glimpse of hers; it had pleased him that she'd trusted him enough to do so, but surprised him as well. Since the night he had held her as she slept, he found himself thinking about her at strange times of the day. It would bring his mind peace and warm him.

He remembered being jailed with Malcolm on an alien planet. As he'd paced his cell waiting to be executed, by a pre-warp culture, which believed they were a member of an enemy faction, his thoughts were about her. He had utter confidence she would be able to retrieve any evidence of their advanced alien technology, even their bodies. _She_ would set right the wrong he had done, and keep the less advanced society safe from the cultural pollution they'd brought to them.

What he hadn't expected was to be rescued, by a team that she'd led. It made him shudder when he thought about her braving weapons fire as she blocked his body with hers, while Trip had cut him free of the noose. When he'd yelled at her to get out of the way, she had mutter. "Enterprise needs her captain," and kept on firing covering rounds.

The moment he'd been freed, he'd griped her arm and pulled her down the gallows stairs, to hide them behind something stronger than a slim Vulcan body, that had no business acting as his shield, or even being on the planet! Once in relative safety, he had to fight the need pull her into his arms and examine her closely to be sure she hadn't been hurt. He'd shaken his head and decided it had been a product of too much adrenalin, and a strong need to protect her. _Refusing to even think way she had taken such a risk. Now the people of this pre-warp society had seen two different species of aliens. With every move they made, the crew of Enterprise was leaving behind more and more contamination!_

…………………..

"Captain, did you wish tea, as well?"

"Whatever you're having," he muttered. He'd been lost in thought. It hadn't taken them long to get to the mess hall. The main dining area was quiet and shadowy, but he could hear water running and pots and pans being banged behind the door that led to the galley.

"Mint tea, hot, quantity two." Her clear voice rang out as they stood in front of the protein resequencer.

He took both cups and led her over to a small table in a corner, with a view of the stars warping by. Part of him felt guilty for enjoying spending this time with her, she looked so tired. "Would you like to take this back to your quarters, and drink it in peace?"

"No, Sir, this will be fine, but don't let me keep you." It was hard for her to keep her mental barriers in place, but very necessary where he was concerned.

"I thought we'd decided you'd call me Jonathan when not on duty?" He sipped his tea and was pleasantly surprised at its taste and the soothing feel of the warm spearmint flavor as it slid down his throat. "This is nice, vary nice."

"Yes, _Jonathan_." With very little effort his name flowed off her tongue, she found it as pleasant as the tea they were drinking. "Ensign Sato suggested it one night. I have discovered it has value after meditation, but before bed."

"How did you discover that you were having problems from the radiation poisoning, too?" He quickly shifted topics. Thoughts of her sitting in her darkened quarters with only the light from her fat squat meditation candle reflecting off her face brought back memories that were vivid and best left alone.

She gave him the easy version. Carefully deleting any reference to him. He appeared satisfied when she stated that her logic had not been appropriate for the situation.

"Appropriate or not, you saved the ship, for which I'm forever in your debt." He was enjoying the quiet moment with her and didn't want it to end. And he needed to apologize to her for what he had done. "T'Pol."

The way he said her name made her look up, unable to take her eyes off of his. "Yes," she whispered almost afraid that she had given herself away somehow and it had embarrassed him.

"I'm sorry for what happened in my quarters, the first time you tried to talk some sense into me."

"There is no need…"

"There is every need!" In that moment there was only the two of them and the stars flying by. The sounds from the galley had faded and each was remembering being locked in a passionate clash, but neither was ready to face the truth, as yet. "I grabbed you hard and shook you." He saw her open her mouth to interrupt him and stopped her by covering her hand with his. "I've never used physical force on a woman in my life. It's unthinkable that I did it to you."

"You were not yourself." She told him the same things she had been whispering to herself. "It was the radiation poisoning. I know you would never hurt me."

……………………..

Wouldn't he? He had come awfully close today. He wished he could tell her what he'd really been thinking, but he was afraid it would only make matters worse. She would probably be shocked and horrified.

What had started out as a simple task of writing the preface for his dad's biography had turned into a nightmare when they entered the radiation's influence. Guilt and anger had begun eating at his soul.

He had always believed that Vulcan's had stood in the way of his father's success. Now, he not only had one on the bridge of the ship his dad had designed, but she was beginning to quietly move into his life in ways he never would have imagined! _It was unthinkable! It was unforgivable! _Jonathan had fought to control the new spell that had been cast over him. But even as he had stared at the words that would help immortalize his father, he had seen large green eyes looking at him in trust and felt silky skin that carried a spicy fragrance that wound its way into his very soul. _He had begun thinking of her as Arwen, but she wasn't his Evenstar! She was a Vulcan witch who had cast a spell on his soul! _

Denial had shot through him, as he had gasped and had gripped the Padd in his hand while glaring at the small screen in front of him. Then the answer had come to him, if he could produce a glowing enough preface for Henry Archer's biography, he would be able to forgive himself, and she would have no power over him. _Vulcans, damn them, would they never leave him alone! _

All the time he had paced his quarters trying to write the words that he needed to break the spell that he was sure was just a new Vulcan trick, another way to control the Warp 5 Program, all he could think about was _her._ Then she'd come to him. He had watched her move across the room, hadn't even heard her words, that on some level he had known were important, but he had managed to block them out.

He had sat watching her, smelling the lemon mixed with an exotic spice that he never could place, but knew always meant _T'Pol_. In that moment, in his deranged mind she had been looking back at him as well. _It had become crunch time_. Did he do what his body was longing to do and pull her to him and kiss her until her scent rubbed off on him; or did he do as the insane anger and pain was shouting at him to do, and yell at her to get out?

Even as he had stood he hadn't known where his slow steps would take him. At the last moment as he had leaned in, a second away from covering her lips with his, he had a sharp memory of standing in a cell with Malcolm. They were going to die and what did he do? He began spouting Vulcan rhetoric! Validating everything he had fought against for so long. _Hell he had sounded like a damn Vulcan as he ordered the younger man to die along side of him, to protect the Vulcan belief of Technical Contamination by a more advanced culture!_ Cold anger had exploded in him; anger and grief for all his father had missed because of her kind, and he had cruelly stepped away and told her to leave!

Then when she had fought him to get his attention because his ship was in danger he had manhandled her in a way that he had never treated a woman before. But he couldn't tell her that when she pulled on his arm, _his control had slipped_. Passion had warred with anger. Either would have shocked and probably hurt her. It had been his good fortune that she hadn't fought him to get free of his grip. If she had, the outcome might have been very different. As it was, his sanity had been hanging by a thread.

He had wanted to taste her and feel her beneath him. Shake that calm cool look off her face as he made her _feel_, as much for his own pleasure as in payment for all her race had done to him and his family. He knew he had to get her out of his cabin and out of his life if she was going to be safe. If it took him getting physical to get the job done he would do it. But nothing had ever been as painful to him as shoving her out his hatch, and the threat to send her back to Vulcan.

…………………….

He knew they had been sitting there staring at each other as they drank their tea. It was apparent that neither of them was back to 100 efficiency. "Well look on the bright side, its not every First Officer who gets to throw her Captain in the shower and not get court martialed." His attempt a humor was met by an expression that told him she was willing to play along. "Did you make that sorry excuse for coffee that you poured down my throat?"

Her brow tilted upward until it was almost hidden by her hair, "I believe I've heard Commander Tucker say, _'it's not the taste, it's the amount of caffeine that counts.'_ I was only following his advice."

"Remind me to thank Trip the next time I see him." Archer smiled as he finished the last of his tea. Quietly contemplating his cup and the scattering of tealeaves at the bottom, he felt a connection with the woman across from him that had been growing for a while.

"T'Pol, I'm glad it was me that you came to when you needed someone to help you pilot Enterprise, and not just because I'm the Captain." They both knew that there were other pilots capable of doing the job, besides Mayweather and himself, but she had come straight to him. _It made a man wonder._

"You were my only choice, Jonathan." She put down her cup and slid back from the table.

As she stood to leave, his wondering stopped. There was no doubt now, something new and deep had been forged during their 17-minute trip between the stars. What the outcome would be was yet to be seen.

……………………..

Peeking out from the galley door, Hoshi Sato had been watching the couple for the last five minutes.

"What's caught your interest there?" Trip Tucker pressed against her back and caught the tickle of her hair as he slid his chin over the top of her head to look over her into the Mess. "Well if that don't beat all?"

"Ssshhh," Hoshi turned and gave him a shove to get him out of her way. "You'll disturb them by making all that noise." She looked up at the blonde man who she had found attractive for a very long time, but his reputation with women had preceded him and _she was darned if she was going to let him bruise or dent her heart!_

"So?" Trip couldn't see what all the fuss was about; he ate with Jon and T'Pol all the time. "Just what do you mean by distubin 'em?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." She challenged as she finished wiping down the counter.

"Oh no, no how, no way!" He shook his head as he followed her around the galley, refusing to remember T'Pol as she had stood in front of him and told him of the Captain and Malcolm's impending execution. There had been something then, but no, it had been his imagination. "I think you'd better have Phlox check you out for residual affects from the radiation. That's Jonathan Archer you're taking about. You know how he feels about Vulcans. If he's having a late night, whatever, with _our resident_ Vulcan, its ship's business!"

"If that's what you want to believe," she shrugged her shoulders and silently added _men_, as she rolled her eyes at him. "But women notice these things, you know."

"Not all women." Trip muttered as he watched her delicate movements around the galley, and tried to figure out how to get her to notice _him._

"Hhmm what did you say?" Her brows lifted in a perfect imitation of T'Pol that made him want to grind his teeth.

"Oh nothin'. Come on, I'll walk ya back." He shook his head as she turned out the lights before heading back to C deck.

"Thanks for helping me Commander, Chef would've killed me if he'd seen the mess I made."

"I thought you'd agreed to call me Trip off duty." He reached for her hand and guided her through the dark galley.

…………………………

Trip and Hoshi went out the back way, so they missed seeing their commanding officers as the left the mess. Unlike the younger couple that held hands all the way back, they weren't touching. The Captain leaned close and listened to something the short Vulcan woman was saying. His hand only an inch or so from her back as they moved quietly through the deserted decks of Enterprise on the way to their respective quarters.

"I really enjoyed that tea." He looked down at her as he opened her door, but didn't attempt to follow her in.

"I have it most nights." She stood in the entrance, he stood watching her. "It seems to be a habit I'm forming."

"Be careful, Humans seem to be rubbing off on you. Though as habits go, it's a nice one." Again it was crunch time for Jonathan Archer, this time he was going to make the right decision for the right reason. "I'm not going to ask to come in."

"I know, Jonathan." She looked up at him and as their eyes met, he _knew_ that she probably did _know_, _but that was all right, because he knew too_. He could tell by the way she'd said his name. He'd heard it once like that before, but she'd been half asleep then.

"Good-night, T'Pol."

"Good-night." She whispered as she quietly closed her door.

He turned and walked the few steps to his own quarters, he'd been given a lot to think about tonight. Vulcans, would he never figure them out? He hoped to God that there was one that he would.


	4. Vulcans & Vagabonds

38

Will mark the **_beginning_** of things that have happened in the past, usually a character is thinking about something in the past, and followed by ………… on the next line, will mark the **_ending, of those events._**

Slight spoilers for Singularity and Catwalk. I've cut this chapter into two parts, due to length. 

**_Rating: _**PG

**Ch 4 Vulcans & Vagabonds**

As he was hastily packing up necessary documents in his ready room, Jonathan Archer's attention was caught by an iridescent reflection, in the glass of one of the pictures, over his desk. Moving to the window he was struck by the beauty of the Neutronic Wave Front that was bearing down on them. Hours earlier they'd picked up three stray aliens who had claimed to be stellar cartographers, but looked more like vagabonds. At the moment, it didn't matter who they were, they had warned Enterprise of the coming danger. Now the crew was working fast to evacuate the ship to the catwalk in the starboard nacelle.

If it hadn't been for the coming storm, Archer would have been exploring a new world, in hopes of taking his mind off the problems that had developed with his First Officer three weeks ago. Now instead of putting distance between them, they were going to be crowded into a small space for eight to ten days. At least they were going to be surrounded by the entire crew, so he didn't have to worry about doing anything foolish. As he took a moment out from packing, his mind wandered to the night everything had blown up in his face.

"Vulcans!" He had exclaimed to the small dog that watched him, as he had paced his cabin in frustration. It was a habit Porthos had seen repeated countless times, especially since they'd moved to the new metal neighborhood, and the nice smelling female was just down the block.

"Just when you think you've got them all figured out, BOOM, something happens and they revert to type." He stopped his pacing and addressed the animal that was watching him with interest. "It had all been going so well!" Archer threw his arms in the air and returned to wearing a path in the carpet beside his bed. "We got that damn project finished. The black hole with the trinary cluster is mapped and warning buoys are set. Earth's first real joint venture with the Vulcan's, and _we did it!_ We were finally able to work together like allies!"

Earlier in the evening, the Captain and First Officer of the D'Kaat, the science vessel that had worked with them, had come aboard for dinner. Though they had been coordinating efforts for over a week, it was the first time the two ships had been within sight of each other. Each had worked from opposite sides of the anomaly, which had almost destroyed Enterprise, a week and a half earlier. For a greater margin of safety, the two ships had remained in close radio contact, as they worked, since both species were affected by the radiation poisoning, but in different intensities and durations.

"It was that tall First Officer." Archer had shaken his finger as he had stopped and had spoken directly to Porthos. "Kern, that was his name. Everything was fine until he met T'Pol. She'd been on the bridge when they'd came aboard, so dinner was their first meeting, on Enterprise, at any rate." He had squinted as he had tried to remember exactly what had happened.

There had been four of them, with him, in his private mess. The two Vulcan officers, Trip, and Hoshi had been there to act as interpreter since T'Pol had stayed at her station to finish compiling the last of the massive data they'd retrieved on the project. Trip and he had been in conversation with Captain Serat, while Hoshi had been practicing her Vulcan with Kern.

When T'Pol had joined them, she had spoken politely to both visitors. Archer hadn't noticed anything wrong, until he had realized that Kern had been following her every move with his eyes, other than that, the man had hardly acknowledged her presence. At the time it had seemed a bit odd, but he had thrown it under the category of unusual Vulcan behavior and hadn't given it another thought, until after dinner.

"Damn him!" Jonathan had shaken his head. "What the hell was going on?" He had turned to his dog for support, but the animal had only raised a sleepy eye in his direction. "Except for that, it had all been going well, until Kern's outburst. If there'd been a problem why hadn't she said something?" His frustration had mounted, because over the preceding few weeks he'd felt that his relationship with his first officer had gone beyond the professional. '_Why hadn't she confided in me?_ _And why had it taken me hours to realized that she'd been uncomfortable all evening, but in typical Vulcan fashion, had suppressed it?'_

Though the atmosphere in the room had cooled during dinner, Captain Serat had appeared to ignore the tension between his first officer and Archer's. One minute all had been well, and then Kern had cornered T'Pol, after the meal. At first Archer had been pleased, because it looked like they had finally decided to deal with whatever had been between them. But the loud burst of Vulcan, in a deep male voice, had put a noisy end to their quiet discussion, and any hopes Archer had had that the two were resolving their differences. Soon after both visitors had excused themselves, bringing an end to the evening. Whatever had happened between the two Vulcans no one knew, and T'Pol had refused to talk about it.

"But damnit all, why had she denied that anything had been wrong? Why had she reverted to the cool personality she had maintained when she'd first come aboard?" With decisive strides, Jonathan had made it as far as his hatch, before he'd acknowledged a voice deep inside of him. With his hands fisted against the door, and his head resting against the metal, he had listened to reason. '_If I approach her like this, she'll just pull further and further away. Give her time and space.' _Somewhere he'd realized this was a test of the newfound friendship that had been forming between them. As he'd turned off the light and crawled into bed, he'd hoped she'd made the right decision.

In the days that followed, he'd gone to Hoshi. He had been sure she had heard, and understood, what had been said between the two Vulcans. But the communications officer had refused to divulge anything, saying only that it was a personal matter and unless the Captain thought it was vital ship's business, he'd have to get his answers from T'Pol.

It had been evident from the cool reception he'd received, whenever he'd tried to approach the subject, _of that night_, T'Pol wasn't willing to talk to him about anything personal. The closest she'd come in the days following Kern, had been to return the sweatshirt he'd left wrapped tightly around her, the night they'd returned from capturing Menos. Her hushed apology had been cool, precise and Vulcan in every gesture and word. _Though her eyes had spoken of tension_.

……………………..

It had been three weeks since the incident between Kern and T'Pol, and Archer was sick to death of the cold shoulder he was receiving from his Science Officer! He wished he'd been standing closer, and that he understood Vulcan better. Whatever the young man had said to T'Pol had shaken her for a moment. Part of Jonathan smiled at the thought. He doubted anyone else in the room had been able to see that she was upset, but he could. Over the last months he'd become adept at reading her moods. He had discovered that no matter how much Vulcans denied it, or tried to suppress them, they had emotions, too. All a person had to do was learn about the Vulcan in question, _and recently he'd been studying this one very carefully._

He didn't realize how much she'd changed over the last eighteen months, until she reverted to the person she'd been when she'd first came aboard. Gone were the little moments they'd shared during the day. She never met him in the mess hall for late night tea after her meditation, anymore, and he was beginning to think he had only imagined she'd ever called him Jonathan. She did her duty flawlessly, and was always there to support him when, he needed it. He could hardly find fault with her, because she'd chosen to put a stop to the personal relationship that had been developing between them.

He stood watching the approaching storm, but only saw green eyes that had looked into his with trust. No matter how hard he tried to play the game her way, and think of her only as his First Officer and Science Officer, the woman who occupied both those positions always slipped into his mind. Smiling, he remembered the first time they'd met; it had been at Star Fleet Medical, where he'd been called because of Klaang, the wounded Klingon. They'd clashed within the first five minutes. He realized that had been why he'd baited her when she'd come to his ready room with her assignment papers, he'd wanted to see if he could make her eyes light up with green fire, as they had the first time they'd met.

Sometime in the months of working together that had changed. Now, he wanted to see her eyes blaze, but it wasn't with anger. It was with something much more elemental, and dangerous to both of them. At first, when he'd realized that he'd desired her, it had been relatively easy to keep it in check, but recently he'd discovered he cared about her with a depth that was frightening. Emotions mixed with passion put a whole new light on the situation. If she were any other woman, and he any other man, he might have even used the word love where she was concerned. _But he wasn't a man who had time for love, and she wasn't a woman who would accept it, so that left them nowhere._

Jonathan forced his mind back to the immediate problem of the elegant violet ribbon that rippled across space for as far as he could see. Death for his crew and his ship, were hidden in the depth of its beauty, if they weren't very careful and lucky. Shaking his head, it took him a moment to realize that someone was at his door. The woman who entered his office took him by surprise. Instead of the cool Vulcan façade that T'Pol had maintained the last few weeks, at that moment she looked very much like she had when she'd asked for his help with Menos.

As they stood together watching the beauty of the Wave, he couldn't help wondering what had caused the change in her. It was almost as if she was afraid of the approaching storm, and had sought him out, but that didn't make any sense. To buy some thinking time, he carefully mentioned the information he'd discovered in the Vulcan database regarding the ship T'Plana, which had been lost almost a century ago when it encountered a class 5 version of this same Neutronic Wave Front. If anything, her pretense of _not remembering the facts correctly_, made him wonder more. _She was leaving something out. Something important to her!_ _What the hell was missing from the Vulcan information? _Again he wished things were back the way they had been three weeks ago. Then she might have told him, and if she hadn't, he could have asked.

………………..

Captain Archer had put T'Pol in charge of the evacuation, so she made a last trip through the dimmed corridors and passageways. Enterprise had never seemed, so big or quiet as when she walked alone in the dark, trying not to think of the coming storm and the possible outcome. When Jonathan had told her that he'd discovered the truth about the T'Plana, it had peeled away all the armor she had managed to build when in his presence. If he had questioned her further or had discovered all the facts, it would have made it very difficult for her to keep her distance. It was very unVulcan-like, but she admitted she missed knowing he would have listened to her, and given what comfort he could. _The difficulties had started because of Kern, but he wasn't the problem, it was a chance remark of Ensign Sato's, which had caused her to revaluate the changes that had taken place in her, over the last 18 months._

She knew the next few days were going to be difficult. Not only living in close proximity with 83 humans, but Jonathan would be there all the time, she would be unable to put any distance between them, and she doubted there would be the space, or time to meditate. _She used her last private moments for a number of days, to look back, and again examine the unpleasant truth she'd learned about him._

The evening had gone badly. It had been the culmination of the events of the last year, none of which T'Pol would have changed, even if it had been possible. If she maintained a stance of dignity and calm in the face of what had the potential to get _messy_, it would end soon enough. She had sighed for a moment, but hadn't wasted energy wishing that humans were less volatile; to do so would have been illogical. All she needed was to refuse to discuss the matter and there was nothing Captain Archer could do about it. She knew he would be angry and frustrated with her, but as long as she remained calm, he would learn nothing.

It had been unfortunate that the occurrence at dinner had marred what would have otherwise been a very successful project. T'Pol had known that Jonathan had been particularly pleased with the outcome. He had felt that Enterprise had done what she had been made created to do: explore and gather information. He had been exceptionally proud that they had been able to take part in a joint effort, with another species, for the betterment of all concerned.

As she had sat in quiet meditation, with her mind cleared, she had realized that she had arrived late in the Captain's mess, because she had been reluctant to meet with members of her own race. She had taken a deep breath and had delved into her mind, looking for answers. The ones she had found had not brought her comfort. _She was a Vulcan who had managed to not just live, but also thrive, on an Earth vessel for over a year. She had taken the part of the ship, and man she served, against the High Command, in the affair regarding the Suliban destruction of a colony, and had done it vocally and publicly. She had chosen to continue her career on a foreign vessel, rather than return to Vulcan and honor a long-standing bond agreement. _

Though she had found no flaw in the logic of any of her decisions of the past eighteen months, she had realized she might have been perceived, by her own people, as more of an anomaly than the one they had just charted and marked. She should have been prepared for a cool greeting from their visitors. But it had struck her as odd that the only decision of hers that had been questioned had been a personal one, not a professional one.

The First Officer of the D'Kaat was the elder sibling of Koss, the man who had been her arranged bondmate. His actions had been illogical and rude even by Earth standards. On Vulcan they would have been unheard of. If she had known who he was, she might have been prepared for the meeting, but since she had ended the agreement with Koss, she hadn't given him, or his family another thought.

In any event the evening had been less than would have been ideal. Captain Archer had questioned her after their company had left, but she had stated that her business with Kern had been of a personal nature, and would not affect Enterprise or Star Fleet. Knowing the Captain as she did, she had realized that he was not going to be satisfied with the one attempt to find out what happened. It had been unforturnate, but the new friendship they had been forming might very well be lost because of that.

T'Pol's musing had been interrupted by someone at her door. She had felt a sinking in the pit of her stomach, at the thought that it might have been Jonathan. In that moment she had not known, if she had hoped, he would push for answers or not, either way she had realized, he was going to be unhappy.

"Sub-Commander." Hoshi Sato had called out as she had pressed the door button on T'Pol's hatch. The communications specialist hadn't meant to overhear what had been said to the other woman, but the man addressing her had made no attempt to lower his voice. His insult had been all the more blatant, because he had known that someone who was fluent in his language had been standing less than three feet away.

"Come in." T'Pol had resigned herself to the inevitable, but had been relieved that it was Ensign Sato at her door, instead of a certain tall captain, who had been giving her strange looks for most of the evening.

"Am I interrupting?" Hoshi had looked at the woman, seated serenely on the floor. The only light in the cabin had been from a squat candle.

"It is all right Ensign, I am finished. Was there something you needed?" She had blinked once to clear any vestige of emotion from her eyes before she looked up.

"No---it's well---" Hoshi had gripped her hands. In theory it had been a wonderful idea to have this conversation, but now that she was here, her courage was failing her. "I heard what Sub-Commander Kern said to you." The words had came tumbling out.

"I see." T'Pol had realized that she must have, but on Vulcan, it was something that never would have been mentioned. Things between families were private and if someone was rude enough to talk about them in public, others refused to acknowledge that the conversations had taken place.

"He had no right to speak to you that way!" The words that the big Vulcan had used to attack the Sub-Commander still rang in Hoshi's ears. She had been surprised and shocked to hear the anger in his voice. '_You have brought dishonor to your family, but mine has been relieved of your disgrace. When you broke off the bond agreement with my younger sibling Koss, it saved us from having to welcome a woman who had consorted with savages into our midst. Tell me T'Pol, do you dine on the flesh of animals? And which of these Earthers do you take to your bed? You are Pathha.'_ Then he had walked away.

"You understood it all?" The Vulcan had known the other woman had a gift for languages, but _Pathha_ was from an ancient dialect, from the time of Surak. It was the name given to those who chose to follow the ways of rampant emotions, pleasures and self-indulgences, rather than his teachings.

"Sub-Commander, he's wrong!" Hoshi's voice had risen, but when she had seen T'Pol flinch from the emotions she had unleashed, she had reigned in her feelings. "He was wrong and he had no right to say such things to you, especially when he was a visitor here. But the reason I came was that I wanted to you know that I'll never tell anyone what I overheard."

"Thank you, Ensign, but I hardly think anyone would be interested."

"With all due respect, Sub-Commander, you're wrong. Captain Archer would want to know." For the first time that evening Hoshi had smiled. T'Pol had sounded like her old self. She had observed the other women for over a year and had seen it happen over and over again. When the Vulcan wanted to avoid an unpleasant truth, instead of telling a lie, she chose to rearrange the question and found a logical explanation for her own interpretation.

"This is a private matter and does not concern Enterprise, or Star Fleet." T'Pol had refused to listen to the voice that had kept telling her that Jonathan had proved himself her friend on a number of occasions and she was being unfair to him by refusing to speak with him about it.

"I beg your pardon, Ma'am, but you're wrong." Hoshi had slid to the floor opposite the Vulcan woman. "This may not have anything to do with Star Fleet, but you're a member of the crew, and as such, the Captain would want to know what happened. Jonathan Archer takes care of those under his command." She had wanted to say what had really been on her mind, but if she had told the other woman that she'd observed that the Captain and the Sub-Commander were becoming close, she knew T'Pol would have been horrified.

"Have you known the Captain long?" T'Pol had kept her eyes on the flame burning in front of her. For some reason, that had she not understand, it was very important to have known exactly what Ensign Sato's relationship was with Jonathan Archer.

"I've known him for about five years. We met when he was doing a preliminary screening for possible candidates for the first crew in the Warp 5 program. I was a cadet with a flair for languages, and had just finished my PhD at The University Of New Mexico." She had smiled sadly as she had remembered their first meeting. "He insisted I was the person for the job. He didn't care that I barely passed my zero-g training, or that even the thought of a roller coaster made my stomach do flip-flops. For five years I tried to talk him out of this assignment, but it didn't work. He had a vision and he made me see it too. He made me believe I could do anything, at the time it was something I really needed." She had shrugged; embarrassed because for the first time in a long time she had spoken about one of the hardest times in her life.

"He was right, you know," T'Pol had whispered. "You are perfect for the job."

"Yeah, right! It took me a year to get my space legs." She had grimaced, her mind still on the man who had broken her heart weeks before Archer and his contagious excitement had come charging into her life and gaven her something to look forward to again. "But now that I'm here I see why it meant so much to him. Every member of this crew was picked by him because of some special quality they had. This project was his dream. You know, most people think he's living his father's dream, but he's not. Henry Archer dreamed of creating a Warp 5 engine, but Jonathan Archer always dreamed of where that engine could take him."

As Hoshi had talked, T'Pol had had a sudden vision of when Archer had asked her to join the crew. They had been standing in his ready-room after leaving Kronos. In a flash of insight, she had realized he had picked her along with the rest of the crew. The Vulcan Science Academy was respected even on Earth. _What better way to assure the success of his mission than to have a Vulcan scientist on his bridge? _Jonathan's odd behavior toward her over the last months had finally made sense. _He hadn't been forming a bond with her personally, but had been carefully securing her as a permanent member of Enterprise's crew._

"Sub-Commander, are you all right?" Hoshi had leaned across the candle and had touched the other woman's shoulder. "You turned pale all of the sudden." She'd thought back quickly to all that she'd said. She'd been very careful not to mention the growing attraction she'd observed between the Captain and the Vulcan.

"I am fine, Ensign." T'Pol had pulled back slightly so she was not being touched any longer. "And Vulcans do not 'turn pale.'" Her brow had quirked, daring Hoshi to contradict her.

"Whatever you say Ma'am." Hoshi had smiled as she rose and had headed for the door, but thought better of it, and had turned back to look one last time at the woman sitting on the deck with her eyes lowered to the meditation candle. "You really should talk to Captain Archer about what happened. _He'd understand_." That was as close as she had dared too meddle in the relationship that had been forming between her two commanding officers.

"I shall take your advice under consideration, Ensign." T'Pol had nodded in dismissal.

After Hoshi left, T'Pol had stared into the flame of her meditation candle for a long time, but it had not helped remove the chunk of ice that had formed in her chest. All in all it had been a poor evening. _The insult from Kern would be easily suppressed, though Archer's reaction to it would take a bit more work. But the revelation from Hoshi was going to take some extended deep meditation_.

"Humans." She had muttered to herself as she had blown out her candle and had set the lights at 50. It was totally illogical that the Captain had been showing her favor to gain her support for his vessel, but from what the Ensign had said, this assignment, and all it entailed, was of paramount importance to him. Though she had believed the bond of friendship that had been forming was genuine, she had discovered that the other, more complicated interactions between them had not been.

It would make life much easier for her, but part of her had felt alone on Enterprise for the first time in months. Knowing the Captain like she did, she had doubted he had even realized what he had been doing. She believed him to be a man of honor. He would not attempt to secure her emotions, unless he had really wanted them, but he was human and they often hid their emotional motives from themselves. So it was up to her, to put things back where they belonged: strictly professional!

She had reached under her bunk, and had pulled out her footlocker and had opened it. There on the top had been a man's gray sweatshirt, size XL, with the words Star Fleet embossed across the chest. For a moment she had held it in both hands and had pulled it to her face, while she had breathed deeply of the scent that clung to it. _"Jonathan Archer we were headed for trouble." She spoke quietly as she had held the garment close to her face. "It is better to know now where we both stand." _

For the first time since Archer helped her apprehend Menos, T'Pol had felt totally Vulcan, again. Her nightly meditation had been full of techniques to suppress thoughts of Jonathan. It would take her time, but she had been soothed to know that once she had rid her mind of any personal thoughts of him, she would be free of the small intrusions in her life that he had caused. She would be back to living by pure logic! She had planned to start in the morning by returning the sweatshirt.

………………

The temporary bridge in the catwalk was crowded, but serviceable. All eyes were on the oncoming Wave Front. Even before they were caught in the violet swirling ribbon that was about to surround them, they could feel the turbulence. Enterprise shook and bounced as Mayweather and Tucker tried to get the inertial dampers online.

T'Pol was thrown against the solid bulk of Captain Archer twice before he gave up and put both arms around her to keep her slight form from bouncing between him and the bulkhead. He felt her stiffen, and then relax against him. Her fingers were digging into his uniform to help keep her balance. When he looked down, her eyes were large and green, then she blinked to wipe away all emotion, but for an instant she'd looked young and very vulnerable, again.

The tiny peek at the woman who he had missed over the last three weeks made him more determined than ever to find out what that Vulcan had said to her to make her close herself off so completely. For the first time since he heard about the Neutronic Wave Front he thought that some good might come out of it after all. The catwalk was too small for T'Pol to get away from him, and he had seen to it that their sleeping quarters were arranged in such a way that it was proper and above board, but they would still be private enough for him to learn a few truths.


	5. A Catwalk Over Troubled Waters

51

_**Thanks **to my sister Gretchen for listening as I rattled on and on about a TV show she's never seen._

_**Spoilers **for Catwalk_

_Minor ones for Precious Cargo and Carbon Creek_

_**Rating: PG-13**_

_**Ch. 5 A Catwalk Over Troubled Waters**_

"Way to go, Jon." Archer muttered to himself as he turned his face to the wall, and pulled the blanket over his shoulder. Their first night in the starboard nacelle and what did he do? He practically jumped down T'Pol's throat, for not having more interaction with the crew, while they're confined to the catwalk. He knew she'd been fighting some kind of inner turmoil for the last three weeks and there was something about the Neutronic Wave Front that they were caught in that was bothering her. Most of the time she appeared her normal self, it was only when she thought no one was watching that she let her mask slip and he could tell she was fighting a battle to regain Vulcan control over her feelings. _So why the hell had he jumped all over her? _

As he lay in the dark, listening to deep even breathing coming from the woman two feet away, he hoped the crew was more comfortable than he was. They had rigged a temporary command center where the catwalk widened at the end of the nacelle. It was the only area that was large enough to house all the equipment that Trip and Mayweather had brought in.

The main catwalk belonged to the crew, with a combination hammock/bunk arrangement set up on either side of the walk, for sleeping. T'Pol and he were crammed into the small 'room' behind the temporary C&C. The catwalk had ended where it met the 'command center,' and was replaced with deck plating. Their space was the odd rectangle left over in the aft tip of the nacelle. It gave them some privacy, but was public enough to be proper. They each had their own sleep area, with a small walkway between them. The biggest disadvantage was that unlike the crew, they were forced to bed down on the deck. The surface was hard, and Archer was worried that T'Pol might not hold up well, even with the heavily insulated padding they were both using to keep out the cold that seeped up through the nacelle plates.

Sitting up, he looked over at her, but she appeared to be asleep. He hoped she was doing all right, though doubted she'd admit it if she weren't. Patting Porthos who was stretched out against his right thigh, he reached for a small bag that held the few personal belongings he'd been able to bring with him. Opening it, he grabbed a sweatshirt and pulled it on over his uniform, before laying back down. He was suddenly assailed by a scent of lemon and spice that hit him in the gut, and made him stare with longing at the sleeping woman an arm's reach away.

When he'd tossed the sweatshirt into his bag, he'd known it was the one he'd left in T'Pol's quarters so many weeks ago, but he hadn't realized that even after going through the laundry her scent still clung to it. He drifted off to sleep, with a smile on his face, surrounded by her fragrance and listening to her quiet breathing. His last waking thought was that _maybe the forced confinement wouldn't be so bad after all?_

……………..

Jonathon wasn't sure what woke him. He knew he'd only slept for a little while, even before he checked his wrist chronometer. As he turned on his right side, he realized there was a cold empty spot by his leg, that hadn't been there earlier. Before his sleep-fogged mind could register what was missing, he saw to his horror, a small black and tan beagle stretched out against a slim Vulcan back, two feet away! Both animal and woman were sound asleep.

"Porthos," Jonathan whispered as he tried to rouse the sleeping dog, but not T'Pol. "Come here boy." But the dog's only response was to bury his chin deeper in his paws, as he snuggled closer to the warm body he was leaning against, and ignored the man a few feet away.

"You get over here, I'm in enough trouble as it is." Jonathan gritted his teeth at his usually well-behaved pet, though he could hardly blame him. If he were in Porthos's spot it would have taken a lot to get him to move. He'd held T'Pol in his arms, while she slept once before, and it wasn't something he'd been able to forget.

"Porthos!" His whisper was louder this time, and both the dog, and the woman raised their head, and stared at him in bewilderment.

T'Pol looked over her shoulder at the little body pressed close to hers, then pointedly back at Jonathan. Her brow rose and her nose wrinkled, as she looked from one to the other, a second time.

"Sorry, it won't happen again." He slid out of his space and reached across for the animal. "You're supposed to stay on our side." He muttered to his dog, but couldn't keep a grin off his face.

T'Pol shook her head, in what appeared to be disgust, as she lay back down and pulled her blankets to the tips of her ears. She could hardly tell him that she had found the small quadruped's presence comforting? His scent and warmth had invaded her dreams, and reminded her of Jonathan. For the first time since she heard about the Neutronic Wave, the odd jumping in her stomach had relaxed, now it was back again. That thought, and the sudden loss of warmth at her back, made her shiver. She was glad her blanket hid her from probing green eyes, that often saw too much, and discovered too many truths she would have rather kept hidden.

"Here take this." Archer knelt between their sleeping areas, while he peeled off his sweatshirt. "And put it on, don't just cover up with it."

"That is yours, not mine." She whispered, obviously she had not hidden her discomfort as well as she thought she had. She was cold, but it would be improper to take _his_ clothes.

"So?" He challenged. "Look, I wasn't born on a hot dry planet. Besides, I've got Porthos to keep me warm." He smiled softly, and tried to look stern at the same time, but it was hard. "That's an order Sub-Commander. It's either that or you go to the main catwalk and share with Hoshi, a prospect that I don't think either of you would thank me for. It's cramped and noisy in there, but I can't have my second in command catching a cold." He didn't want her to leave, but if she lay there staring at him much longer, it would be the only safe thing for her to do.

"If you insist, Captain." She took the shirt and pulled it over her head.

"I do," he grinned as she quickly lay back down, and turned away from him, with her blanket pulled practically to the top of her head.

"But Vulcan's do not _catch cold_." Her sleepy voice drifted from her nest of blankets.

"Not if I can help it, you won't!" He slid back to his spot very pleased with himself.

_Maybe she would have been better off going to the main catwalk with Ensign Sato; wearing his sweatshirt was a mistake_. When she had first put it on, it was still warm from him. Though it had felt wonderful against her chilled body, the thought that the heat contained in the shirt, had recently been a part of the energy that made up Jonathan Archer, was somehow intimate, and did strange things to her stomach.

It was odd sharing a sleeping compartment. On Vulcan it was only done by very young siblings or bondmates. She and the Captain fell into neither category. T'Pol took deep calming breaths; while she mentally repeated her meditation mantra, in an attempt to clear her mind enough to sleep again. When that didn't work, she tried to focus on the sound of her breathing, to block out the man's a few feet away. _Finally giving up, she synchronized her breaths with his, and_ _accepted the warmth that he'd given her_. Soon all three occupants of the small makeshift quarters were sound asleep.

…………………

T'Pol moved carefully along the catwalk, her breakfast in hand. Everywhere there were people talking and moving about. They were crowded, but seemed to be making the best of a bad situation. She hadn't gone very far when she realized that she probably would have suffered from sensory overload if she had had to live with 80 plus humans, and their emotions, packed tightly into a small space. Without the outlet of meditation it would have been difficult to keep her mental shields intact in the confines of this section of the nacelle.

"Sub-Commander, do you want to join me for breakfast?" Hoshi Sato was sitting on the bed that she'd been assigned.

"It is good of you to offer." T'Pol made her way over to the railing and looked down at the young Ensign.

"There's plenty of room for the two of us, and it's a mess out there." Hoshi pointed toward the area where some tables had been erected. "Climb through the bars. I lucked out and drew one of Phlox's stretchers, so the bed's stable." She smiled at the Vulcan trying to make her feel welcome.

Unsure of how to make small talk, T'Pol watched as Hoshi grimaced, obviously uncomfortable in such a small area. "Is your claustrophobia bothering you again, Ensign?"

"No, every time I begin to feel pinned in, I've used the relaxation techniques you taught me. They work like a charm." She smiled at the serious woman sitting opposite her. "I'm surprised you left the calm of the command center, for the bedlam up here." Hoshi grinned, knowing that if she had a choice she'd stay in the peace and quiet of the aft end of the nacelle.

"Captain Archer suggested that this would be a good time for me to get to know the crew better." T'Pol filled her spoon with oatmeal, and a few of the Tinka berries they'd found on the last planet they'd visited.

"He ordered you, did he?" The younger woman laughed.

"I believe his exact words were, that I should learn to _fraternize_." Her shapely brow rose, making the other woman laugh. Both knew an order when they heard it, no matter how it was termed.

"I'm sure he would appreciate that." Hoshi's eyes danced at the double meaning behind the seemingly simple statement. She had seen the way Archer looked at T'Pol, when he thought no one was watching. It was obvious he wouldn't mind doing some fraternization of his own. What didn't make sense was why he would push her to mingle with the crew, instead of keeping her close by his side. _Unless, of course, the Vulcan still hadn't told him about her conversation with Kern._

"Mornin' ladies," Trip leaned over the rail, and gave Hoshi his most engaging smile. "How ya'all doin' this mornin'?"

"Good morning, Commander." T'Pol looked up at the young chief engineer.

"Commander." Hoshi's eyes had turned to ice and her gaze passed though him like a plasma bullet through butter. "Sir, unless you're here on ship's business, the Sub-Commander and I were having a private conversation."

"Dang it all, Hoshi, would you just gimme a chance to explain?" He whispered frantically.

"There is nothing to explain, Commander." Her brow shot up in imitation of T'Pol. "If you would please excuse us, Sir, we'd like to finish out breakfast."

"Well damnit, a man can't make one simple mistake without it gettin' blown all outta proportion." Trip mumbled as he stomped away.

T'Pol sat frozen, unsure of what to do or say. Even with her mental shields tightly in place, it had been easy to pick-up the feelings of hurt and anger coming from Ensign Sato.

"I'm sorry, Sub-Commander, that must have been very unpleasant for you to witness." Hoshi wiped at a lone tear that had run down her cheek, and tried hard to put a smile on her face. "Think you could teach me any meditation techniques to keep me from wanting to bash his one little brain cell against the nearest bulkhead?"

"It has been my observation that the Commander is a very intelligent man." T'Pol was confused that the Ensign would speak with such disrespect about a senior officer.

"I used to think that, too." Hoshi sniffed delicately. "It's unforturnate that he only uses that brain for engineering, when it comes to everything else, he thinks with his…." She clasped a hand over her mouth, when she realized what she had been about to say.

"You have feelings for the Commander." It suddenly dawned on T'Pol that there had been an undercurrent of male/female attraction radiating between the two shipmates for a while now, but ever since he had been kidnapped, Hoshi had been avoiding him.

Both women knew that officially, fraternization with subordinates, was against the rules, but they also knew that Archer was turning a blind eye to anything that developed between members of the crew, as long as it was kept discrete, and didn't get in the way of business. Everyone was being very careful, because they all knew that if there were ever an unpleasant incident, he would go back to playing strictly by the rulebook.

"It's not what you think, the Commander, _Trip_," she whispered, surprised at how good it felt to use that silly nickname, again. "He and I were friends, that's all."

"Ensign, I believe you were more than friends." T'Pol looked her straight in the eyes and could read the pain that was there. Humans were so emotional, and it could get so messy. She wondered how they survived it.

"Ma'am, we really were just friends. Trip has a reputation with women. I'd heard about it, so I refused to let him get any closer to me than friendship, though he gave every indication that he was interested in more. That I was someone special. There's an old Earth saying, _'if I can't be with the one I love, I'll love the one I'm with_.' That describes the Commander in a nutshell." It was hard to talk about what had happened, but Hoshi needed help from someone. She trusted T'Pol completely, and in view of what she had discovered about the woman recently, she thought that maybe the Vulcan was the one person on the ship that might understand. "I mean if you care about a person the way he said that he cared about me, you don't go getting involved with every stray princess that comes along, do you?"

"Ah, human sexuality?" T'Pol nodded. When she had debriefed the Commander, and the Princess, after their adventure, she had picked up the residual affects of passion, even with her mental shields tightly closed, but in true Vulcan fashion she had ignored it, believing it would be an intrusion on their personal lives to have acknowledged it.

"I'm sorry Sub-Commander, I know that you can't possibility be comfortable with this conversation." The younger woman tired to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

"A moment if you please, Ensign?" The Vulcan lowered her eyes, and took a deep breath as she searched for the most logical approach to the problem. She knew that on a typical Earth vessel, the first officer was often the one that the crew came to with problems, even ones of a personal nature, but this was not a typical vessel, nor was she a typical first officer.

"Vulcan's don't have these kinds of problems do they?" Hoshi looked sadly at the other woman.

"When we mate, it is for life," T'Pol whispered. She sat with her hands folded tightly in her lap, in the familiar lotus position. Hoshi was inches away, her posture a mirror image of her visitor's. "That is why the family chooses a bondmate far in advance. It is believed that adult logic will assure a harmonious union."

"But that's not always the case?" Hoshi remembered the conversation she had overheard. It was obvious that T'Pol had rejected her family's choice of a bondmate in favor of staying on Enterprise.

"The match was logical, but sometimes even Vulcans change, Ensign." T'Pol had already taken that conversation further than she would have liked. "Regarding the matter between you and Commander Tucker. I believe when there is a misunderstanding between two people, it is always best to confront that person directly. It is possible you don't know all the facts, and the Commander is the only one who will be able to enlighten you."

"May I ask you a personal question, Ma'am?" Dark worried eyes met steady green ones. "Have you talked to Captain Archer about what Sub-Commander Kern said to you?"

T'Pol was saved from having to think of a suitable comeback when Enterprise began to bounce and shake, sending the crew grabbing for handholds. "You will excuse me, Ensign, I must see if I can be of assistance on the bridge."

Hoshi watched the other woman as she gripped on to anything that would keep her steady, while she navigated the catwalk. If she didn't know better she would have sworn the Vulcan had been frightened by the sudden turbulence, though it was apparent, she had been glad for the interruption.

…………………….

The day had gone well. The crew was in good spirits despite the crowding and lack of, what many would consider, necessities of daily living. On one of his many trips through the catwalk to keep an eye on things, and remain accessible to everyone, Archer had noticed T'Pol in earnest conversation with Hoshi. It pleased him that she had taken his advice to heart. He entered the compact space he shared with her, with a small peace offering in hand. He was determined to get their second night in the confines of the catwalk, off to a better start than he had the first.

"Here you go Sub-Commander." He knelt in front of her with a cup of mint tea.

"Thank you, Captain." She reached for it, and just as her fingers met his on the cup, Enterprise chose that moment to shake and bounce again. Between them, they balanced the mug, as hot tea washed over their hands.

"Travis, everything okay?" Even as he called down the corridor to the young man sitting at the controls, Jonathan instinctively wrapped his free arm around T'Pol. He wasn't about to let go, and fought to keep his balance, as the deck bucked beneath them. All the while his eyes were glued to the little bit of Mayweather's head that he could see between the crates of supplies that walled off the command sleeping area from C&C.

"Sorry about that, Captain. Just a rough patch, we'll be out of it in about 10 seconds." Enterprise settled back into its smooth flight before Mayweather could finish his sentence.

"Try to avoid the 'rough patches' in the future, Ensign. I prefer Enterprise in one piece."

"Yes, Sir." Travis grinned over his shoulder at the Captain, and did a double take at the sight that met his eyes. "I prefer it that way myself," he muttered as he quickly turned back to his station._ 'I saw nothin,' he kept repeating, under his breath, until he could almost believe it._

When Archer looked down at T'Pol, something froze in his midsection. He realized that her free hand had a death grip on the back of his uniform, pulling her closer to him, and her eyes were huge.

"T'Pol?" He pried the cup from her unresponsive fingers, and put it aside. "Sub-Commander, how badly were you burned?" He saw darkening splotches on the skin of the hand that had been holding the cup.

"Pardon?" She blinked slowly, and wiped all emotion from her face. Though it was obvious it was taking severe control to keep it that way. "I am quite all right. The tea did only superficial damage."

"Oh no you don't! Do not shut me out!" He gripped her tighter and gave her a little shake. What he had seen in her eyes, made fear surged through him. _She was afraid!_

"Do not touch me, Captain." Her brow rose, and her words came out low and raspy.

Something erupted inside of him, but he held up his hands and pulled back a few inches. If he didn't put some distance between them, he was likely to throttle her. It'd been months since he'd been this mad at her. He realized that part of his anger was because she had pushed him away again! But first things first, something was very wrong here. He had a sinking feeling that she hadn't told him the whole truth about the T'Plana. Later when he wasn't so worried about his ship, he would feel the sting of another rejection, but now he had more immediate concerns. "Spill it T'Pol!"

"The turbulence caught me off guard, that is all." She had the good grace not to pretend she didn't understand his slang.

"God damnit! What do you know that you're not telling me? I've seen you fearlessly step into the path of a plasma bullet. When we piloted this ship between two stars, with meteors coming at us from all directions, and the rest of the crew was out cold, you didn't bat an eye. When you went after Menos, you were confused at times, but never scared! What the hell do you know about these Neutronic Waves that would frighten you? Sub-Commander, as Captain I have a right to know, and as Captain, I'm ordering you to tell me."

His anger buffeted her, no matter how tightly her mental shields were slammed. He was too close, and too much had happened in the last few months. He was a man, who she respected, even if he sometimes used less than honorable means to secure her allegiance, but he was _human,_ so what else could she expect.

"If you have examined the Vulcan database, then you know as much about what happened to the T'Plana as I do, Jonathan." She hadn't meant to call him by his first name, but it had slipped out. _Where was the control that she counted on each day to survive in the midst of so many humans?_

"Then what the hell is wrong?" He picked up her hand, which still had dark splotches from the hot tea, and held it lightly in his. "You gotta help me out here. Those people out there _can not_ see us afraid, and frankly you're scaring me do death."

His sincerity worked where his anger hadn't. She took a deep breath and met his gaze. "You are right, Captain, I have been afraid, but it is because of a personal matter, and it is totally illogical. I do not know anymore about the Wave Front than I have already told you."

"T'Pol," Jonathan rolled his eyes, he was tired of her putting thing under the heading of personal matters, then ignoring them. "I'd trust you with my life, but you have to give me more to go on, before I can ask them to trust you with theirs." He pointed in the general direction of the catwalk full of people.

With her chin in the air, she took a deep breath, and reached under her pillow for a small book. "It is all in here." She handed it to him and watched as he leafed through the century old pages covered in Vulcan writing. "That belonged to T'Mir, my second foremother. She left it behind when she went on her last mission. She was captain of the T'Plana."

"Why didn't you say something?" He sat in the aisle as close to her as he dared, fascinated by the book, though he couldn't read the language.

"It is a family matter, but my apprehension, is illogical, I should have been able to control it better. I apologize, Captain." She realized he still held her hand, and gently pulled out of his hold.

When he turned to the last page, a picture fell out. "Your second foremother?" As she nodded in reply, he felt something move deep inside him. Everything she had been saying was true. The whole cockamamie story that she'd entertained them with months ago over dinner was true! "This could be you in about a hundred years or so." _He was_ _gripped by sadness that he wouldn't live long enough to know at that age_. Even with silver mixed into mahogany hair, and small lines around her eyes from staring at too many distance stars, the woman looking back at him from the picture, was strikingly beautiful and familiar.

"I am told there is a likeness."

"Very much so." He took one last look at the photo before putting it away, and handing her the book. _He wished the pain that seeing that picture had awakened in him were given_ _away as easily_. He cleared his throat and concentrated on the problem at hand. "This could explain why you've had a problem with the turbulence. An ancestor who you look a great deal like, died in a class 5 Neutronic Wave Front, and we unexpectedly came across one, and get caught in it."

"That is illogical."

"Maybe so, but haven't you told me that Vulcan's have emotions, but you choose to control them? What if I gave you an hour or so, alone in here, to meditate? You think that might help?" He mentally kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner. She might not have the peace and quiet she was used to in her own quarters, but the least he could do was try and make it easier on her. One of the things he had come to understand in the last year was how important daily meditation was to her.

"I have not meditated since the night before we discovered the Wave. It would be the logical thing to do." _How did he know what she had needed, when she did not even realize it herself?_

"All right then, we'll clear out and give you some privacy." He stood, and picked up Porthos. "Come on boy, we're going to visit Trip." He made it almost to the entrance, when he turned, and looked at the small woman still sitting on the deck. "T'Pol, if there's ever anything you want to talk about, I'm always willing to listen, even if it's personal, I'll be there for you." He smiled; hoping that very soon she'd feel able to discuss what had happened the night Kern had visited.

As he walked onto the main area of the catwalk, he tried not to thing about T'Mir's journal and the truths it had made him face. He had always known that Vulcans out-lived humans by over a hundred years, but it was hard to see proof of it. Added to that, was the haunting familiarity of the ancient text. It took him a few minutes to jog his memory, but it finally came to him. A number of weeks earlier he had realized that T'Pol reminded him of Tolkien's Arwen. That belief was reinforced by the look of the old style Vulcan script, because it looked like Elvish, which had been written vertically instead of horizontally.

…………………….

Life took on a slow rhythm in the catwalk. There were a few arguments as the days past, but for the most part, the crew found little things to keep from getting bored. Once they played the old-fashioned game charades. Another time Travis Mayweather told ghost stories from the collection he had gathered growing up a boomer. One of the best finds was Crewman Cutler's singing voice. She loved to sing, and knew hundreds of songs from many different kinds of music.

Archer noticed that T'Pol was making an effort to mix more with the crew. She usually ate breakfast with Hoshi, and at times Elizabeth Cutler joined them. In the evenings, she could almost always be found sitting in the back listening to whatever forms of entertainment the crew had decided on for the night. He gave her time each day to meditate, and was relieved to discover that the areas of turbulence appeared not to bother her anymore. Though he didn't doubt that somewhere deep inside of her, were feelings that she kept an iron control over. Sometimes late at night when he lay listening to her breathing, he wondered what it would be like, if she ever set them free. Part of him wanted very much to see that, but the more practical part remembered the picture of her second foremother, and the long life T'Pol had in front of her. A short-lived human would be nothing more than a footnote in that expanse of years.

………………………

It had been a close thing, they had almost lost Enterprise, but not to the Wave. This time to an alien militia, that was little better than pirates, but Archer would have destroyed his ship rather than let her be taken, and her crew enslaved.

"Travis said you were magnificent." Jonathan lay on his back talking to the woman on the other side of the room. It was a habit they had formed over the last few nights. In a way it reminded him of the talks they used to have in the mess hall over tea. "He said you refused to let him change course until you got the all clear from me."

"You gave the order to fly into the large Plasma Eddy. It was my place as first officer to see that it got carried out, until you rescinded it." She turned on her side, propped herself up on her elbow, with her head resting in her hand, and watched the man across from her. She had been fascinated by his determination to not give into the pirate's demands. It raised many questions.

"Well for a woman who was frightened of turbulence a few days ago, you stood your ground beautifully!" He could picture her braced against Travis's chair, as they were buffeted by the approaching eddy, but refusing to give in, as she bent the younger man to her will.

"Thank you. The meditation has helped a great deal." She studied him as she remember what Hoshi had told her weeks ago. _Maybe the Ensign was wrong, maybe Enterprise and the mission weren't the most important things in Jonathan's life? And her own conclusion was incorrect, as well; maybe he had not chosen his science officer because she was Vulcan, and he could profit from her expertise?_ A man did not willingly destroy something that was that important to him, especially an erratic human.

"Captain, would you have really let us fly into the Plasma Eddy?"

He faced her across the walkway, and propped himself up with his elbow. Jonathan wished the lights had been on, because the shadowy outline he saw of her wasn't enough. He could see the light gray from his sweatshirt, and smiled because she was always careful to keep herself covered when she wore it. Tonight, as she focused on their conversation, the blanket had slipped around her waist. He could see the sleeves rolled at her wrists and the brown from her uniform where the collar was too large for her. He had a sneaking suspicion that she'd look cute, but he didn't dare say that. Somehow he thought it would be beneath a Vulcan's dignity to be considered cute.

"I've relived that moment a thousand times, since it happened. My father taught me never to bluff, unless I could live with the outcome: win, lose, or draw." He sighed as he remembered all that had gone through his mind as they had tried to retake the ship. "So I guess the answer to your question is, _yes I would have_, but I hoped to hell it didn't come to that."

"You are an honorable man, Jonathan Archer." She whispered into the silence that followed.

"Thank you T'Pol, but there is hardly honor, if you kill your crew when there is a chance at life."

For the first time T'Pol moved into the space that separated them and sat beside the man who was still second guessing a decision he had not had to make. "Your crew would follow you anywhere, Captain, including into that Plasma Eddy. And there are worst things than death. I believe we would have discovered that, if you had backed down."

"What about my first officer?" He looked up at her sitting inches away from him. _He'd_ _been right, she was cute in the overly large sweatshirt, too cute for his peace of mind_. "Would she follow me anywhere, as well?"

Green eyes met green eyes. Both people realized there were many layers to the question that had been asked, and both realized it was too soon to answer them all, so T'Pol took the easy way out and fell back on titles. "Yes Captain, your First Officer would." Her words fell into the pool of silence between them. She was tempted to loosen the hold on her mental shields and let all that he was feeling flow between them, but once she did that, there would be no turning back.

"You'd better go back over to your side, you don't want to get cold." His voice stuck in his throat and come out barely above a whisper. _What would she do if he pulled her against him, to keep her warm that way?_ It was a tempting thought, but he could read the uncertainty in her posture, as she sat caught in his gaze.

"No I would not want to catch cold, Jonathan." She whispered as she forced herself to moved away from him, and back to her own space. With the safety of distance between them, she wondered if she had answered appropriately, because she had been so focused on the responses she was getting from him that she had spoken without thinking. _Something had trembled between them, which both frightened and intrigued her, but most importantly, it caused her to be truly at peace for the first time in weeks. _ Even with her mental shields in place she had picked up on his desires to have her physically close. The only logical conclusion was that no matter what his motives had been when he asked her to join Enterprise, as a permanent member of the crew, the personal relationship that had developed between them was based in truth. He had not been pretending, none of his gestures of friendship or closeness had been an act to bind her to him, and therefore Enterprise.

She supposed she had been looking for a reason to keep from telling him about what happened with Sub-Commander Kern, and that was why she had misunderstood Ensign Sato's comment. _But that was so illogical, so un-Vulcan!_ T'Pol shivered at the implications_. It was almost is if her careful construct of logic had created a trap because she had not been able to accept that where emotions were concerned, the illogical could_ _be the truth, and the logical the lie_. The more she thought about it, the more confused she became. Another thing she would have to discuss with Jonathan when Enterprise had returned to normal.

……………………..

On their last night in the catwalk, T'Pol lay in the dark listening to his deep even breathing. She'd grown accustomed to it, and knew her quarters would be strangely quiet when they returned to the main part of the ship. It had been soothing to tell him about her second foremother, and he had seemed mesmerized by the picture of T'Mir. He would stare at the old photo and discretely watch her out of the corner of his eye as they talked. _Was there really that much of a resemblance, and what was causing his curious reaction?_ Over the last few nights he had asked many questions about the old Vulcan explorer, and she had been willing to answer them. He was an outworlder, a man she hardly knew, but she had talked to him about family, and found it pleasant to do so. She supposed that some night, over tea in the mess hall, she would tell him about Kern and Koss and what had really happened all those weeks ago. But it was not something she could speak of yet. It wasn't a subject for Captain and Sub-Commander, and as long as they shared quarters in the catwalk, it was a necessity they retain their titles. Once they were able to take out a few moments to be Jonathan and T'Pol again, then she would see, yes she would see.

_**Please read and review all comments, positive or negative welcome.**_


	6. Down The Valley Of The Shadow

Chapter Title is taken from Edgar Allan Poe's poem Eldorado.  I think the last stanza fits very well for the sentiment behind Stigma. "Over the Mountains Of the Moon, Down the Valley of the Shadow, Ride, boldly ride," the shade replied,--"If you seek for Eldorado!" Information on Vulcan funeral rites was taken from the Star Trek Movie, The Search For Spock

This chapter is in memory of Steve Miller, friend, co-worker, and AIDS victim.

Spoilers:  Huge ones for Stigma

MINOR ones for Vanishing Point, Fusion, Two Days To Nights, and The Seventh

Pairing: Archer/T'Pol and Sato/Tucker

Ch 6 Down The Valley Of The Shadow

****

Ensign Hoshi Sato had looked forward to some peace and quiet. She'd wanted to run an extra diagnostic on the communications board, and tweak it with a few improvements of her own, but it didn't seem as if she'd have time to do any of that.  They had come to Dekendee 3 so Dr. Phlox could attend a meeting of The Interspecies Medical Exchange, and to get the latest neutron microscope.  They'd gotten the scope, and to every ones delight, Feezal, one of the doctor's wives was helping Commander Tucker install it. Then things had begun to get dicey around the edges.   Phlox only made one trip to the conference, and that had been a quick one.  The rest of his time he'd spent in sickbay, or in odd meetings with the Captain.

 Hoshi worked quickly to keep up with all the tasks that needed her attention.  Though they were in a parking orbit, communications were unusually active.  Priority messages had come and gone all day, as well as emergency shuttles back and forth to the surface. She was convinced that if she looked at just the right angle, she would see a path that was being worn on the deck planting between the lift, and the Captain's Ready Room.  Though it wasn't her job to ask questions, she was getting an odd itch at the back of her neck, which told her _all hell was about to break lose_.

The slight whir that she had come to recognize as the lift doors opening, caught her by surprise. '_Oh no, here we go again,'_ she thought to herself.  A drawn looking T'Pol moved across the bridge as if it was unoccupied, and headed straight for Archer's door. Something big had happened. The communications officer could feel it.  Whatever it was, it involved T'Pol, Phlox, and the Captain; and she'd bet her last dime that the Vulcans were at the bottom of it. Ten minutes earlier, she'd routed a message through to the Sub-Commander in her quarters. It hadn't been the first unexpected contact they'd had with the Vulcan medical delegation. At breakfast, they'd been visited, unannounced, by three of them.  _She knew Vulcans weren't given to dropping by for a quick chat over scones and espresso._  Something was up!

……………………….

T'Pol sat across from Archer and listened to his voice crack as he told her of his failed efforts to get help from the Vulcan doctors for her Pa'nar Syndrome.  It seemed as if a sheet of ice surrounded her, and he was pounding on it to try and break through.  She had only herself to blame.  She had kept the secret of her illness from him for almost a year.  Pain was clearly written on his face, which added to the load she was carrying.  The time of relative calm, they had spent crammed into the catwalk, seemed months ago, instead of only weeks.   

She did not understand _why_ she had come to him in person, instead of using the COM system, to inform him of Dr. Yuris's request to meet her on the surface.  At the time she had not questioned it, because it had seemed the logical thing to do, _as logical as breathing._

"Wait."  Archer stood and blocked her from leaving.  "You can't go down there alone."

"It was his request that I do so."

"No!"  He punched the communicator on his desk and turned to glare at her.  "I'm going with you, and that's final."

"Pardon me, Sir?"  Hoshi Sato's voice came through loud and clear over the small speaker next to his hand.  It was evident she'd heard part, if not all, of his last remark to T'Pol.

"Have Lt. Reed prepare a shuttlepod.  The Sub-Commander and I'll be leaving as soon as it's ready. Archer out!"

"_Yes, Sir!"  The clink of communications breaking off with the bridge echoed in the silence that followed_. 

"Captain," T'Pol stepped closer to him.  "The fewer people who know about this the better. If he can help me, I do not want to compromise his standing in the medical community."

"Neither do I."  He couldn't stop himself from reaching for her shoulders, and holding on tightly.  All he'd wanted to do since he'd heard about her illness was put his arms around her, and keep her safe from the universe. He gritted his teeth as the words echoed in his mind: _'Pa'nar Syndrome, lethal and incurable_.'  "He can't object to a pilot for the shuttle.  I'll stay out of sight, I promise. But what if it's a trap, and there're waiting for you down there in force?"

"There would be nothing you could do." She added extra steal to her spine and reached deep inside for all the control she could muster. "Though I would not object to your company on the trip down."  She kept telling herself to move, to stand strong on her own, but the words just bounced off her exhausted mind. It would be too easy to accept the invitation that was in his eyes, and rest for a moment against his strength.

"T'Pol," the rush of air out of his lungs whispered her name.  He was unable to let go of her, but knew if he pulled her closer it might be the final burden that caused her to crumple. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"Forgive you?  I do not understand."  It would be so easy to reach for him, he was only inches away, but she knew she must not, especially now. 

"I was the one who pushed you to have contact with Tolaris."  He could still remember the haunted empty look in her eyes when he'd gone to see her in sickbay, after the attack, and the surge of joy when he had pointing a phase pistol at the man who had mentally raped her.  Since he'd discovered that the forced mind meld had passed alone a deadly virus, he wished he'd pulled the trigger, political consequences be damned!  "This never would have happened if I hadn't been so insistent that you mingle with them."

"No, you are not to blame.  I…" Her voice broke and she had to look away so he would not see what it was costing her to be so close to something she wanted, but knew to be illogical and irrational, and now, forever out of her reach. "I did not fully inform you of the risks involved."

"But I should've taken better care of you."  Pain sliced through him and fueled his temper, when he thought of the price she had paid for his arrogance.  He had wanted to show her that Vulcans could have emotions and logic at the same time.  Even back then, he'd known it was motivated by selfishness. 

"I am not yours to take care of, Jonathan Archer."  She carefully laid a hand on his chest, allowing herself to touch him freely just once.  He was an emotional, irrational human, who tested her vast store of logic on a daily basis, but she knew deep in her being that if they had been given the time, things would have been very different between them.

"One good thing did come out of all this. Because of my interaction with that group I learned that he….Tolaris…" She shivered as she stumbled over his name. "He is not representative of that sub-culture in Vulcan society."  She lost the battle with herself and leaned her forehead against the man standing so close to her, as she gripped the sides of his uniform in her fists.  Taking deep breaths, she gulped in his scent.  It had represented safety in a rocking world for a long time, now.  Over the last year they had come to an unspoken agreement:  they covered each other's back and gave support when needed. This was one of those times.

Jonathan wrapped his arms around her, and enjoyed the moment of warmth that they shared.  Why had it taken the prospect of losing her for good, to make him see how important she was to him?  He'd been dancing around the edge of it for months now, but always refused to look it squarely in the eye.  For the first time in a long while, he felt whole and at peace.  His restless spirit had found a home, but the Vulcans were threatening to take it away, in three days time.

_"Sato to Archer.  Your shuttle is ready, Sir." The young ensign's voice fell into the deep silence that had wrapped around the couple in the Ready Room_.

Jonathan stretched to reach the communicator, and quickly punched the button, while never taking his eyes off the woman in his arms.  "We're on our way.  Archer out!"  He wasn't ready to let her go, she didn't often let him get this close, but they'd run out of time.  He realized what it must have cost her to reach for him as she had, and that her inexperience with emotions left her unprepared to pull back while keeping her Vulcan dignity intact.  It was up to him to do it for her. "Feeling any better?" 

"Feeling?" Her brow arched in classic disapproval.  She was reasserting herself, and it gave him courage that they would get through this together.

As his arms dropped away from her, and she began to step back, she was oddly reticent to break off all contact.  It had given her something that she was unsure how to express, but it made her stop and reach for his arm, one more time. "Thank you, Jonathan."  She had been out of her depth, but he had known how to pull her back. 

"You're very welcome, T'Pol." He lightly covered her hand with his. She was being honest with him and he owed her the same.  "But did it ever occur to you that I needed that as much as you?"  His face softened as she carefully blinked, and tried to remove all traces of emotion from her hers.

"I'm sorry."  She wanted to say more, but lacked the words to express what she was sensing in herself.  Instead she pulled her hand free. What had happened could never happen again!  It shouldn't have happened now.

"Don't be! This isn't over yet."  He smiled down at her, as he looked her over carefully.  "You'll pass, but I'll stay between you and Hoshi. Body language is as easy for her to read as encryption codes.  I doubt you'd fool her."

"Captain?"  T'Pol turned and looked as insulted as a Vulcan was capable of looking.

"Now that just might get you past her!"  He grinned as he headed for the hatch.  

………………………..

Things were happening too fast.  When Hoshi had gone to dinner, the Captain and the Sub-Commander had still been off on their secretive mission. Then, moments ago, he'd had her snagged off the 1800-hour shuttle to the surface. He'd asked her to check the Vulcan Database for the standards of ethical behavior for the Consul of Physicians.  As much as Hoshi wanted to deny what she believed to be the truth, the evidence was mounting.  On her trip to meet the Captain in sickbay, she'd passed T'Pol in the corridor.  The woman moved as if on autopilot, stiff and withdrawn.  Before she'd even entered sickbay, Hoshi'd heard Archer arguing with Dr. Phlox, though the words were indistinct, the tone hadn't been. Most telling of all had been the look on the Captain's face as he made his request.  _Archer had looked frightened_.  She'd known him a long time and had never seen bone deep fear like that in his eyes, but it had been there then.  Too many things had happened today, and they all pointed in one direction: T'Pol.  Something was very wrong with T'Pol.

 ……………………..

"Captain, getting upset is not going to help her."  After Hoshi left, Phlox watched the other man pace sickbay.  "Thanks to the two of you, and Dr. Yuris, I've got all the information the Vulcans do on Pa'nar Syndrome.  I can't guarantee a cure, but what we have here is enough to slow the progression of the Sub-Commander's disease, and give me time to see what I can do."

"It won't do her a hell of a lot of good, if Oratt is successful in taking her back to Vulcan. It seems all our logical friends want is to see these people dead!"  Archer was grateful he'd been able to hold onto his temper until T'Pol and, moments later, Hoshi had left sickbay, but it had torn him apart to tell the woman he'd come to care about that she was being recalled.  "Why the hell won't she fight for herself?  If the High Command knew that she'd contracted the disease when she was attacked, and not during a mind meld by choice, they'd be more lenient."

"She's explained that Captain."  The doctor found human reactions interesting, but when a very stubborn Vulcan was thrown into the mix, they bordered on the bizarre.  "You must remember she's been fighting for a year already."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Every time I've wanted to access outside help, she's refused.  Always saying that if her illness were discovered, she'd be taken off Enterprise. Her paramount concern was to be able to remain here." He shrugged and wondered how much more he should let on.

"Since my encounter with Dr. Oratt, I understand some of the underlying prejudices involved, so I'm getting a clearer picture of what she was facing." Phlox tilted his head and watched the Captain carefully, as he tested a theory of his own.  "But there was more to it than that.  It didn't take me long to realize that she had a need to remain here, one that I believed would have been detrimental to her health, if it were removed."

"Go on."  Archer wasn't sure he liked where this was leading. He had an all too clear memory of another night in sickbay, when the doctor had discovered a truth that Jonathan had thought he'd kept well hidden.

"For some reason, the Sub-Commander wishes to remain here."  Phlox picked his words carefully, but met the Captain's eyes directly. "She _cares_ about being here.  It is more important to her than anything, _except her principles_."

"Principles be damned!"  Archer exploded and pounded his fist against a worktable. He didn't understand her reasoning. If the High Command turned a blind eye to her Pa'nar Syndrome because she'd gotten the virus, when she was attacked, but would have pulled her commission and her place on Enterprise, if it has been transmitted by a voluntary mind meld, why would it be condoning their prejudice or persecuting the section of Vulcan society that practiced such techniques, if it were used in her defense.

"Are you all right?" Phlox shook his head, things were worse than he expected.  His people were known for their passionate natures, but it looked like the humans could run a close second.

"No I'm not all right!"  Archer whispered as he bowed his head and stared at his fists on the table, his temper of moments ago spent. "I just don't want to lose her."

"I understand, Captain."  The Doctor patted him on the shoulder.  "None of us want to see the Sub-Commander removed from Enterprise. She is a great asset to the ship."  He watched the human assimilate all the levels of what had been said.  Each man knew, and understood, that if the Vulcans were successful in their attempt to return T'Pol to Vulcan, she would be taking a piece of Jonathan Archer with her.

The Captain nodded, as he moved toward the door.  His last hope hung with Hoshi's skills negotiating the twists and turns of the Vulcan Database.  She had worked miracles before; he prayed she'd have one more in her bag of linguistic tricks.  

"Captain."  The Denobien wasn't through, yet.  He was a doctor, and responsible for both the physical, and mental well being of the aliens under his care. "It's important to remember that if a person does not remain true to their principles, they lose their self-respect, their honor.  If that were to happen to Sub-Commander T'Pol, it would be devastating.  For her to be forced to make a choice between her principles and …ah…_Enterprise_, would be cruelly unfair. She deserves better than that."

"You're right, I know you're right, but that doesn't make it any easier." Pain flashed in Jonathan's eyes.

"She is a woman of great courage.  She would expect no less of us."  The doctor felt helpless to assist either of his 'patients.'  "I'm always here, if you need to talk."

"I'll remember that."

"Oh, Captain."  Phlox put on his most professional face, as a thought occurred to him.  "I believe as ship's physician it is important for me to reiterate that Pa'nar Syndrome is a disease that it unique to Vulcans.  No one else on the ship needs to worry about contracting it.  It won't pass by casual contact, or even something as intimate as, say, mental contact, with the Sub-Commander."

"What are you trying to say?"  Archer moved with slow strides toward the smaller man, not at all comfortable with the tone of the conversation.

"Only, that there is absolutely no way, NO WAY at all, that a non-Vulcan could be put at risk."  The Doctor nodded and met the Captain's relentless stare.

"I'll keep that in mind, Doctor."  Archer stomped out of sickbay, shaking his head in wonder. '_Had Phlox suggested what he thought he did?'_ _One of the two of them had to get their mind out of the gutter!_

  …………………………..

Hoshi Sato liked to believe she was a woman of reason, but from the moment she'd handed Captain Archer the Padd containing the Protocol Of The Consul Of Vulcan Physicians, all reason had flown out the window.  She had rushed to the nearest lift, praying that she didn't throw-up.  One look at the Captain had confirmed all her misgivings of earlier.  She headed for the one person she least wanted to see, but most needed to.

"Commander."  She called out as she knocked on Trip Tucker's hatch, and hoped she wasn't interrupting anything. 

"Hoshi?"  He looked down at the woman who had hardly spoken to him in weeks.  Though she had relented, and would sit with him, occasionally, in the mess hall, she always kept it formal and professional.  Any headway he had been making on a personal level had died, when he'd slept with an alien princess while kidnapped.

"Are you alone?"  She knew she was on the verge of tears, and kept her head down so he wouldn't see.

"Of course."  He rolled his eyes at her question.  It was obvious she still didn't trust him.

"May I come in, please?" Her voice trembled as she fought for control.

"Darlin' what's wrong?"  He pulled her inside, as the hatch slid closed, unable to take his eyes off her distraught face. 

"I shouldn't be here."  She whispered.  What had she been thinking, he was a superior officer and as such, was honor bound to report her for divulging information she had learned while on duty.

"So ya still don't trust me!"  His face hardened and his teeth clenched.

"No, it has nothing to do with that, I wasn't even thinking about that."  She paced his cabin needing badly to talk to someone.  In the past Captain Archer was a person who had given her sound advice, and over the last weeks T'Pol had been helping her with relaxation techniques, in exchange for lessons on the use of chopsticks.  At the end of those sessions, they'd begun talking of everyday things.  Hoshi would hardly call it girl-talk, but it was as close as she figured a Vulcan was ever going to get.  Unfortunately, if what she suspected was true, neither of those sources was open to her.

"Well that'd be a first. It's been how many weeks since you've thought of anything else where I'm concerned?"  He was fuming, but couldn't let the chance get past him.  She had come to him, and was talking.  Maybe he could get her to forgive him.  "Now you just calm down, and tell ol' Trip all about it."

"I can't."  She could read the frustration on his face.

"Then why'd ya come here?"

"Because I needed to."  Hoshi couldn't hold it back any longer.  Tears began to slowly run down her face.  She was worried and afraid for her friends, and felt helpless to do anything for them.  She never believed anything would be worse than when she had been caught in the transporter buffer for 8 seconds, but this was!  _This complete feeling of helplessness that was for someone else was so much worse than when it had only been about herself.   _

"Come here, Darlin'." He whispered as he held his arms open.  Much to his relief, she moved quickly into them.  "What ever it is we'll figure out what to do about it together."

"No, Trip, I can't talk about it." She wiped her damp face against the front of his shirt.  "It's something I learned…. something I suspect, from bits and pieces of information I heard while on duty."

"Just slow down there, Hosh."  He rubbed her stiff neck, enjoying the silky feel of her skin and wisps of hair that tickled the back of his hand.

"Ohh, that feels so good.  I hadn't realize how much my head hurt from all this."  She snuggled closer to him, and let his presence relax her for the first time since they had arrived in orbit.

"You can take the pins outta your hair if you like, I won't tell anyone that it was on your uniform collar."  He grinned, it had been on the tip of his tongue to offer to remove them for her, but Hoshi meant too much to him to play his usual games.  "That bun at the back of your neck always makes you look sophisticated and in-charge, but I like your hair best when it's hanin' free."

"You do?"

"I sure do, Darlin. Whenever I see it that way, I want to touch it."  That was the most relaxed he'd seen her in weeks, and he planned on keeping her that way. Maybe once he got to the bottom of what was bothering her, she'd give him a chance to explain about the Princess.  "Now, you sit over there."  He pointed to the end of his bed, and pulled up the hard backed chair for himself.

"I really can't tell you much, without violating protocol."  Hoshi carefully pulled the pins out of her hair, and sighed in relief when the pressure was removed from her scalp.

"Gimme those, you don't want to lose 'em."  Trip held out his hand for her hairpins, completely ignoring the many pockets of her uniform.  After she had dropped them in his waiting palm, he stood and put them on his dresser, before sitting back down. "Now, what's this all about, I've been kinda outta the loop gettin' the Doc's new microscope installed, and tryin' to stay out of Miz Phlox's way!"

"So I heard," Hoshi giggled.

"Okay, who's got the big mouth?"  He rolled his eyes.  It'd been bad enough tryin' to keep Feezal Phlox at arms length, without the whole ship knowin' about it.  A man didn't mess with a married woman, no matter what those Dinobians thought.

"Even if Malcolm hadn't said anything, I saw your panicked looked in the Mess when she joined us for dinner."  Hoshi's laughter filled the room at Trip's discomfort.

"Damnit all, she's a married woman, she shouldn't go actin' like that!"

"Different cultures," she added, and wished she hadn't.  Suddenly she remembered why she was here.

"How bout you tell me what's been going on, and don't you worry none, after all I'm third in command.  If somethin's wrong I should know bout it."  He tried to look serious, but he was glad to have her back sitting on his bed talkin' to him like she used to, and it was hard to believe that anything much could be wrong when in orbit of a medical convention.

Hoshi took her time and told him about all the recent activity that she'd been a part of.  Almost nothing happened on Enterprise that wasn't routed through her board.  She'd heard too many stories about COM officers who were nothing but nosy busybodies, using their position to snoop into their shipmate's lives.  She'd always sworn she'd never let herself fall into that category.

"So, if I got this right, you think T'Pol's sick and the Vulcans are givin' the Cap'n a bad time about it?"

"It's more than that."  Hoshi sat cross-legged on his bed and leaned forward, needing for him to understand.  "Trip, he's scared."

"Naw, no way.  Nothin' frightens him, especially not Vulcans!"  He'd known Archer for a long time, and he'd seen him face off with more than his share of Vulcans.

"No!"  She reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly. "Not of them, but afraid for one in particular."

"But that still doesn't mean…."

"You can deny it all you want."  She shook her head at how stubborn he could be when he didn't want to see what was going on around him.  "But they've grown close over the last year, especially since the time when the Suliban took over Enterprise, and he disappeared.  I'm on the bridge; I see it every day."

"That would explain why the Cap'n took off with her when she had to go on that secret mission for the Vulcans." It was a mystery he'd yet to solve. "Jon was mad as a wet hen at first, then all of the sudden, they were takin' off together. T'Pol looked like hell when they first got back.  And he seemed mighty protective of her."

Hoshi nodded and smiled.  She had had the same thoughts, but kept them to herself.  She knew Trip had been eaten up with curiosity, but had been professional enough to refrain from picking on Travis Mayweather, the only person besides Archer and T'Pol who knew what had happened.

"An' there wasn't much privacy in those quarters they shared on the catwalk."  He'd wondered about that, too.  Why would a man who was irritated by Vulcans choose to share sleeping accommodations with one, unless…? "Say, you don't suppose, they…?"

"Trip!" Hoshi rolled her eyes at him; he was taking the conversations places she didn't what to think about.  "No I don't suppose they did!"

"Yeah, you're right, there was no real door, and anybody could've walked in on 'em at anytime."  He fought to keep from laughing as Hoshi exploded.

"What!"  She grabbed his pillow and whacked him on the head with it.

"Stop it, stop it, I was only foolin'."  He laughed as he covered his head with his arms.  "I know those two are too straight laced to pull any funny business."

"Good!" She gave him one last hard thunk with the pillow, before he grabbed it out of her hands.

"Now, Lil' Lady you just be careful."  Blue eyes danced with joy, as he tossed the pillow aside and gripped her wrists.

"Lil' Lady?" She did a perfect imitation of his Florida drawl. "Little Lady? You can be a real chauvinist pig, Tucker!"  Hoshi tried to sound indignant but was having a hard time pulling it off.

"Considerin' I'm not the one hittin' a superior officer."  '_Or sittin' on his bed.' The thought struck him. _His face was inches from hers, and it was taking all his self-control to keep from kissing her. "I'm just glad you're not mad at me any longer." 

"I had no right to be."  She pulled her hands free and suddenly found her fingernails fascinating to look at.  "I mean it's not as if we were…as if we had…" She realized she'd gotten in very deep very fast, so she switched tactics.  "I mean, it was unfair of me to hold you to a standard I hadn't followed."

"What!"  Tucker surged to his feet as her words sunk in.  "What are you sayin' Hoshi?"

"You know very well what I'm saying, Trip Tucker!"  She jumped to her feet inches away from him.

"Okay who is he?"  Trip was boiling mad.  All this time he'd thought she was his and here there was someone else!  "You're awfully friendly with Travis, or is it Malcolm?  I know he was givin' you extra lessons on the shootin' range, was he givin' you lessons on other things too?"

"That's a terrible thing to say!"  She hadn't realized he'd be so upset; after all he'd been casually honest about his one night affair with _that woman_!  "And no it wasn't with anyone on Enterprise."

"Then who was it?"  His eyes shot fire as he thought about her with another man.

"You're jealous?"  The thought took away her anger and replaced it with amazement.

"Your dang right I am!"  He stopped his pacing as the implications of it sank in. "Yeah, you're dang right I am."

"Now you know how I felt."  She whispered.  "But that's not why I told you.  I just wanted to be as honest with you as you've been with me."

"I'm sorry."  Trip cupped her cheeks as he leaned forward and kissed her forehead.  "I'm sorry Darlin', I never realized."  But that didn't make the chunk of ice go away that had formed around his heart when he thought of her with another man.

"There's nothing for you to worry about." Hoshi smiled up at him. The emotions on his face were easy to read.  "It was a long time ago, before you and I…well, before we noticed each other.  It happened on Riza."

"Riza, huh."  He shook his head at his foolishness.  He'd been attracted to her from the first moment he laid eyes on her back on Earth, but he'd still had some foolish notions that Natalie was the woman for him.

They'd gotten off track, but she'd been right to come. "Thank you, Trip, for listening. I'm glad we can talk to each other again." She leaned her pounding head against his chest.  "I know there isn't anything you can do for the Captain or T'Pol, but you've been a big help to me."

"Maybe there is something I can do."  He reached for the wall COM unit and hailed the Captain.  He needed to have a talk with his friend.

Instead of Archer's deep voice on the other end, the young feminine voice of the Beta shift COM officer filled the room. "May I help you Commander Tucker?"

"I was tryin' to track down the Cap'n."

"He just returned from the planet, and has requested his messages be routed through the bridge."  Ensign Martinez was trying to be as helpful to the Commander as she could. "He didn't want to be disturbed unless it was an emergency.  If you really need to speak with him, he's carrying a hand communicator."

"Naw, that's all right, Ensign.  It'll wait 'til mornin'. Tucker out."  He looked down at Hoshi who still had her arms tight around his waist.

"That doesn't sound good." She sighed and shook her head.  "I think that makes his third trip to the surface today."

"Oh boy! You think T'Pol's really sick?"  He wished he'd spent more time paying attention the last few days instead of having to dodge Feezal.  "Like maybe dyin'?"

"I hope not, but whatever is going on, has him angry and afraid.  I've never seen him like that before."

"I'll walk you back to your cabin, and then I think I'll nose around a bit, and see if I can scare up anymore information.  Someone's gotta know somethin'."  Trip put his arm around her as they moved to the door. "'Sides, I need to have a chat with the Doc 'bout somethin' else."

"Wait, I need these."  Hoshi reached for the hairpins he'd left on his dresser. They were the long, wide, old-fashioned kind that was needed to hold thick hair into place.

"Darlin' you got any more of those?"  He kept eyeing her and the pins sitting beside his comb and a spanner he'd accidentally brought back from engineering.

"Sure, I've got a whole box full."

"Lemme keep' em."  He grinned at her.  "I like the way they look sittin' there."

"Men?" She chuckled as she rolled her eyes at his silliness.

………………… 

All the way up from the planet's surface, the words had echoed in Jonathan's head.  It had taken all his effort not to shout them at Dr. Oratt, when he had demanded the hearing that the Consul Of Physicians owed T'Pol.  Now, sitting quietly in her quarters, they had just slipped out.  '_I'm not giving you up without a fight.'  _He shook his head, had he really said them out loud, or was his mind playing tricks on him?

"But?" T'Pol froze in the process of packing, as she stared at the man sitting less than a foot away.  Her hand clenched around the small book she had been pushing around in her suitcase since he had come to tell her of the hearing scheduled for the next afternoon.

"No."  He crouched on the floor beside her, needing to bridge the space between them.  "That's the way it is. We'll fight this thing together."

"I haven't changed my mind." She leaned against her bed, afraid to move. The last time he'd been that close, he had been what she had leaned against.

"I realize that, and I'll honor my promise to you."  It galled him, but he had given his word.  If she refused to tell Oratt how she had contracted Pa'nar Syndrome, then he would abide by her wishes.

She knew she had to put some distance between them.  He was too close, and she was too tired to keep her mental shields intact.  The vibrations from his emotions were bouncing off her and it caused a cold pain to clutch at her stomach.  Turning she reach for an item that was folded on the shelf behind her.  When she turned back she was careful to have put some space between them.  "I believe this belongs to you, Captain."

"It does look familiar." A quirky smile crossed his face, which told her she had not fooled him by her evasive maneuver.

"When I packed to leave the catwalk I left this sweatshirt on your sleeping bag."  She could not meet his eyes.  The evenings they had spent together as Enterprise fought her way out of the Neutronic Wave, were ones she would always carry with her.  "But when I unpacked, I found it among my things."

"You don't say."  He leaned an elbow on her bed and fought the memory of her sleeping less than two feet away from him. "Why don't you keep it for the time being."  He couldn't explain it to himself, so he was certain he'd never be able to explain it to her. When he'd seen the neatly folded sweatshirt where she had left it for him to pack with his other things, his only thought had been to hide it in her bag.

"Thank you, Captain."  It was something that was beyond her understanding, but she was glad to have the shirt, it was a part of him, and she would take it with her. Another of the many illogical thoughts and actions that centered on this man.

"You're very welcome."  He couldn't think of a reason to stay, but there was nowhere else he wanted to be.  "I suppose I should be going? You need sleep."

"Yes, but it appears that it eludes me."  She had not slept in two days and for the first time in her life meditation had not helped.  Every time she tried, she ended up staring into the flames, her mind split into fragments of memories, instead of focused and clear.

"I don't think I'll get much sleep tonight, either."  All he wanted to do was hold her again like he had done in his Ready Room, but she looked fragile and skittish 

"Wait," she looked at him with huge eyes.  Somehow in the last minutes he had edged closer to her. "Jonathan, there is something I need you to do for me."  She had been thinking about this ever since Dr. Phlox had diagnosed her illness, but had been hesitant to ask.  It would have meant not only telling him the truth about her condition, but to speak of sacred rites only known to Vulcans.  

"Anything, and it's yours."  His arm slipped along the bed, so close that it almost brushed her shoulder. 

"When a Vulcan dies his family takes his body to Mount Seleya.  They climb the Hundred Steps to the Hall Of Ancient Thought." She spoke haltingly; in her mind was an orange world scorched by a blood orange sun, and a powerful mountain that rose out of a vast dessert.  "There it rests for one Vulcan day and night.  Those who were with him in his last hours remain by his side to watch over him.  Finally the Priests perform the ceremony, which free his Katra, what you Humans call a soul. Once set free, it is believed to reside with all those who have come before and all those who are to come after. That is way all Vulcans who die off world must have their bodies returned home."

"Why are you telling me this?" Archer had read the stipulation in T'Pol's record, when she had been transferred to Enterprise, but he hadn't known the reason.  From the serious expression on her face, he realized this wasn't information that was given lightly to outworlders. 

"Because those with Pa'nar Syndrome are banned from Mount Seleya."  She whispered.

"My God, they'd persecute you even in death?"  The irony of the total lack of logic wasn't lost on him, and it added fuel to the anger that he'd been fighting to control. "There is no need for this, you are not going to die!"  He gripped her shoulders and shook her, refusing to listen to reason. 

"Sooner or later we all die."  Her chin came up in a show of defiance she didn't feel.  "Some of us sooner than others."

"T'Pol…"

"Jonathan, this is important.  You are the only one I trust to do this for me."  She gripped the book that he recognized as the journal that had belonged to her second-foremother, T'Mir.

"Go on."  He had a terrible feeling he knew what she was going to ask, and he wasn't sure he had the courage to hear the words, but if she could say them, he would make himself listen.

"If we are unsuccessful tomorrow, and I am taken back to Vulcan, nothing will be done for my illness."

It verified what he had believed, but was fighting against.  "We haven't lost, yet."

Her fingers gently touched his lips to silence him, but she had to pull them back quickly as the tips began to tingle. "When I die, my family will be more than willing to give my body to whomever I have designated, as long as it is taken off Vulcan, freeing them of the dishonor I have brought upon my name."  She closed her eyes to block out the pain she recognized in the man who was inches away.

"I said I wasn't giving you up without a fight, and I meant it."  He growled.

She took a deep breath and handed him the small journal, which he had found so interesting during their evenings riding out the Neutronic storm on the catwalk in the nacelle. "I am giving you T'Mir's journal.  In the back I have written the last known position of her ship, the T'Plana. It is very close to a small binary star.  Ensign Sato will be able to translate the Vulcan writing and give you the exact co-ordinates. After death, I want my body to join with that star."

"You believe her Katra is waiting out there for you." His very logical Vulcan had a metaphysical side, which he never would have guessed existed.

She folded her hands on her knees, with her back very straight, and her eyes unable to meet his.  She had always known he was perceptive, but she had not expected him to understand this.  "I do not wish to spend eternity alone."

"That will never happen!"  

"You will promise."  She forced herself to look up, and was caught in the intensity of his gaze. "You will promise to do this thing for me?" 

"I promise," he whispered, as he gently touched her cheek. 

"Thank you." Then for the second time that day, she lay her head on his shoulder.

He reached over and deftly flipped close her travel-case, then placed it on the floor behind her.  Wrapping his arms around her, he picked her up and moved to the head of her bed, where he sat, leaning against the wall, her body curled against his, and their legs stretched out side by side.  "Now, you try and get some sleep," he whispered to the dark head so close to his, and flipped off the light, surrounding them in darkness.

She should tell him to leave, to move away from her.  He was human and she was Vulcan, this closeness should not be, especially since she was dishonored.  It was unfair to be with him, when no male of her own species would have her.  As the words formed in her head, they were blocked by the knowledge that it did not matter.  Because this was probably the only night they would ever have.  And though she could allow it to be no more than it was at the moment, it would have to suffice.  She had run out of time, there was no 'maybe,' in their future, because, if Oratt had his way, she would have no future!

………………………….

Jonathan bounced his water polo ball against the wall in an effort to rid himself of excess energy, but it didn't working.  By rights he should have been exhausted, but he wasn't. He kept seeing T'Pol the way she'd looked when he'd told her _he didn't want to lose her_.  She had nodded her head and told him she didn't want to be lost then left his ready room.  It had been after the meeting with Oratt had ended so surprisingly, and after he'd been notified that the Vulcans were not going to take her back to Vulcan or inform the High Command of her illness. 

He knew he wanted to talk to her, and it frustrated him that he felt he needed an excuse to do so.  "Damn, I'm the Captain, I can talk to whoever I want!"  He grouched at Porthos, as he sent the ball bouncing off the bulkhead, and headed for the door.  It wasn't until he was almost out of the room that he remember T'Mir's journal and that he still had it.  Grabbing the book, he slipped out the hatch, whistling.

"Come in."  T'Pol raised her head off her pillow and watched the man in sweatpants and a t-shirt move across the room.  Though they'd spent the night before, sleeping, sitting up on her bed, she couldn't let it happen again.  Too many things had changed, and too many of them had stayed the same.

"I just remembered I still have your book.  He knelt beside her.  '_We've done this before,' flashed through his mind._

"The problem is still the same, unless Dr. Phlox can find a cure for Pa'nar Syndrome, my Katra will not be welcome on Mount Seleya."  She watched Jonathan; he looked relaxed for the first time in three days.

"I'm putting my faith in the Doctor!"  He smiled as he pulled out the old photo of T'Mir and examined it closely.  "Yes, I believe you'll look very much like this someday."  But it pained him to know that he would never live to see her at that age.

"Unless Commander Tucker does something foolish with the engines, you may be correct." As much as she might want it, there could be no repeat of the night before.  Things had moved much faster than they would have, if they had not had to face the ramifications of her illness. 

"Then I'll have to have a good long talk with him." He smiled in the dark as he watched the shadows play across her face. "You get some sleep, Sub-Commander, Enterprise needs her science officer."  He stood wanting to say much more, but not sure if it was wise.  T'Pol had told him more than once that he didn't always choose his words wisely, why should this be any different.  "I meant what I said, I didn't want to lose you."

He was almost to the hatch, when a low sleepy voice caught him by surprise. "I did not want you to either." Her words hit him like plasma bullets through the heart, but he kept on walking. Later he'd figure it all out, later when they weren't so tired.  After all, together they'd beaten the Vulcans today. Given enough time, together they could do anything! 

**_Please read and review._**


	7. Into The Land Of What Was, What Is, And ...

Rating: PG-13, I hope.  If this deserves something higher, let me know and I'll change it. 

**Spoilers:  **Future Tense, Cease Fire, Shockwave, and a tiny one for Singularity

**Notes:  **This went much longer than I planned and I may have played with canon beyond what I should have, but the ideas were screaming at me, so I wrote them. **_Enjoy!_**

Ch 7 Into The Land Of What Was, What Is, And What Could Be 

****

"Come, join me in another glass of ale, Archer." Shran, the Captain in the Andorian Imperial Guard grinned at him, and headed back to the conference table, after T'Pol and Soval had left the room. "You know, I find it interesting that every time we meet, you have the Vulcan female in tow."   

"_In tow?_" Archer eyed the man from across the room.  "The Sub-Commander is my Science Officer, she has a job to do." __

"A job? Interestingly put." The Andorian nodded and poured them both another glass of the amber colored liquid. "You forget, Pinkskin, I saw you at P'Jem, then on Coridan, where the female was shot, as well as today on Waaton." 

"Shran," Archer warned. "What are you driving at?"

"That you are very lucky that Ambassador Soval does not know you as I do."  The Andorian sipped his drink and met Archer's steady gaze.  He had been right about this man, before_._  Now he would see how right he was about something else, as well. "Vulcan women can be extremely _intriguing_, for lack of a better word.  Your _Science Officer_ is a _prime_ example." 

"That is enough!"  Jonathan slammed his glass on the table, and gritted his teeth to keep from shouting.  "You are talking about a member of my crew and as such, you will speak about her with respect, or not at all."

"You don't speak much Vulcan, do you?"  Shran watched Archer over the top if his ale. _The Human had feelings for the Vulcan, and from what he had seen and heard, it appeared, they were returned_.  If the little he knew of the Pinkskin was anything to go by, the High Command was in for a rude awakening.

"What does that have to do with it?" Alarm bells went off in his head.

"You'll have to ask your…. _Science Officer_ about that."  The Andorian grinned as he headed toward the door.  He had overheard a conversation between the Ambassador and the woman. It had been most informative. "Though come to think of it, Vulcans are usually prisoners of that cold twisted thought process they call logic. Soval would probably have missed what was right before his eyes.  I've learned that if a Vulcan chooses to believe something, he will turn the facts inside out to support those beliefs.  So she may be safe after all."

"Shran---" The sick feeling in Archer's stomach had quickly turned to ice.

"Captain, please, you can't expect me to make it too easy?"  He turned and faced Archer across the conference room.  "You have been a help to me, both now and in the past.  This warning discharges me of any further debt.  I would advise you to talk to your Vulcan female."

Shran's words rang in Archer's ears long after the man had left.  What had Soval seen that might be a problem for T'Pol, and how was he involved in it?  He wanted to go to her and dig until she told him the truth, but he knew he couldn't.  Something had changed between them during the three days they had fought to keep her on Enterprise despite her Pa'nar Syndrome.  A wall had fallen and he knew they would never be able to pull back to the safe distance that had separated them before, _no matter how hard she tried_.  Now she needed time and space to feel comfortable with him again, not questions.

………………………………………

EIGHT DAYS LATER-- 

T'Pol grabbed her scanner and headed for the Launch Bay.  The Captain wanted her to make a detailed report on the metals that comprised the unusual ship they had found floating in space. She knew that Jonathan believed the ship and its dead pilot came from the future. Up until the exact moment she had heard Phlox talking of the Vulcan-Human DNA mix taken from the body, she had been ready to accept his beliefs as a possibility, but the Doctor's findings made it impossible. It was ridiculous, and very Human, this theory that the ship was from the future, but she needed to know for sure.

Because he was Jonathan Archer, she had believed him, up to a point, that he had traveled in time.  It was something that was difficult to reconcile in her mind.  She trusted the man, and knew that he truly believed that he had, but it went against all her teachings.  Now with the discovery of this ship and its strange occupant, she wanted to grip tightly to Vulcan philosophy.  It kept the ground from moving under feet, but if she did that, it would mean that there was no substance to the man she had come to believe in so completely.  The thought made her stomach clench.  She was a Vulcan caught in the grips of confusion, a condition that could not last! 

The Launch Bay was brightly lit, but the ship at its center seemed to suck the light from the room. After scanning the outside several times with little success, T'Pol opened the hatch and climbed careful in.  She was struck by the absolute silence that enveloped her.  There was no distant hum from the warp reactor, or odd everyday sounds that were present on a Human ship.  She felt cut off, and totally alone.

As she scanned the cockpit she tried not to think of the man who had piloted the craft. He was a being that could not exist, but it was obvious that he had, or if Archer was to be believed, he would.  The ramifications for her were tremendous and she tried to concentrate on her analysis instead, but her mind kept straying from her work. The strange two-level conversation she and Jonathan had carried on in Daniel's quarters as they searched for answers about this ship kept playing through her brain.

"No!" She whispered.  "No, I am in control of my thoughts."  She reached deep inside of her and pushed away the shadows of feelings that were encroaching on her logic.  "This cannot be.  It is an aberration.  Vulcans do not breed outside of their species!"  She ignored the ice that was building somewhere in the region of her heart, and push on with her work.  She needed answers.  

Moving quickly to the area that Commander Tucker and Lt. Reed had described, she used both hands to open the hidden door.  She found herself looking down a long way.  Turning she moved carefully down the ladder, all the while repeating to herself, _'the Vulcan Science Directorate says that time travel is illogical.'_

The area at the bottom seemed to go on forever, though there was a solid metal wall that rubbed against her shoulder.  Kneeling, she placed both hands, palms down against the wall and let her mind open.  Very slowly she dropped her mental shields as she took deep breaths in and out.  If the man had traveled though time, then it added validity to the mix of species that had been present in his DNA.  The second supposition was dependent on the first. The answers to all her questions and doubts were hidden in these walls and she was going to find them.  

++++++++++++++++++

The room swung around, and T'Pol's mind shivered as a deep fog surrounded her.  Then she was covered by warmth, delicious warmth and snuggled closer.  There was something familiar about it, which made her feel safe and relaxed.  She forced her eyes open and came slowly awake.

She was no longer in the craft she had been scanning, but in bed, lying on her left side.  Instead of the wall to her quarters that should have been there, she saw an expanse of red sheets, a view port, with stars warping past, and a small black and tan beagle asleep on a pillow under the port. '_I'm dreaming,' she thought, remembering waking numerous times on the catwalk, to find Porthos on her side of the corridor. _She closed her eyes, unable to process what she had seen.  If she believed it, that would mean that she had fallen asleep in Captain Archer's bed, because this was definitely not the catwalk, her quarters, or the alien ship in the Launch Bay!

Her eyes flew open seconds later, when she realized a large warm body pressed against her back, and arms she knew all too well, were holding her. A man's scent filled her senses.  Deep even breathing that had calmed her during turbulence on the catwalk, and ruffled through her hair the night before the Hearing with the Vulcan Medical Board, tickled the back of her neck.  _This could not be, it was impossible!_ _What trick were the Humans pulling on her?_

T'Pol carefully reached to remove the hand which cupped her abdomen possessively, and began to slide out of bed.

"We've hours before our shift."  Archer whispered as he caressed her side and pulled her against him, bring her head back to rest on his left arm while his right one wrapped tightly around her, pulling them even closer together.  "Go back to sleep, Love."

"Captain!"  She gasped as she realized they were both naked.  "What is the meaning of this?"

"If you want to play games in the middle of the night, I can think of something much more interesting."  He words were punctuated by kisses along her jaw and ear, as his hand moved higher across her torso.

"Stop that!"  She gasped as his touch sent little flames, she refused to acknowledge, rippling through her body.  "Have you lost your mind?"  No matter how stiff she held her herself, or how hard she tried to pull away he still surrounded her.

"T'Pol what is the matter? I know you've been a little skittish lately but…" He reached over and tuned the lights up to 50%, then rolled the struggling woman beneath him to get a better look at her face.  What he saw frightened him.

"Let me go."  Her brow arched as she shivered beneath him.  "Or shall I hurt you?"   

This was not the woman he'd made love to hours earlier, the one who shared his bed, and owned his heart. "So it's true, it's all true."  He shook his head at the expression on her face.  It had been a while since she'd looked at him in that guarded cool way. "Two years ago you told me this might happen, but were never sure if it was dream or reality. And there was very little you knew to pinpoint the date."

"You are talking nonsense.  We should notify Dr. Phlox immediately."  She had a clear memory of when he had been out of his head from radiation poisoning, but that had affected the whole crew. As she talked her left hand crept over his shoulder to the nerve points at the base of his neck.

"Oh no you don't."  He captured her wrists and pinned them to the bed, on either side of her head. "Thinking of pinching me unconscious, then throwing me in the shower, and pouring bad coffee down my throat, again?"  He grinned at her shocked expression. "I learned that little trick of yours a long time ago, the hard way!"  He still remembered the stiff  neck and headache she'd given him from her Vulcan Nerve Grip.  It had saved his life, but he'd been upset, when he'd discovered she could knock him cold with one hand.

"How can you know about that?"  She stared at him unable to make sense of what was happening.

"That's a story for another time." He read the emotions that she hid so easily from others, and knew she was badly upset. "You and I have serious things to discuss.  I'm going to need your help and your trust." 

"Let me go, then we will talk." She began to struggle when she realized she was trapped beneath him. Her martial arts training made up for the slight difference in strength, but positioned as they were, she was unable to take advantage of any of the moves.  "It is hard to trust when I am caught unclothed beneath you." 

"There is too much for you to see if I let you up, it's too dangerous.  The timeline must be kept intact." The anxious look that filled her eyes reminded him, that from her point of view, his touch was foreign, a thing that a Vulcan would never allow.   He suppressed his own emotions, using techniques she'd taught him, but he couldn't stop himself from rubbing his forefinger against her jaw as he whispered, "I'd never hurt you, Love."

"Do not call me that name!" She would not admit what it did to her insides to have him use a gentle endearment when he spoke of her. "Why should I trust a crazy man? One who babbles about things that are illogical?"

"Because you always have, and you always will.  What I need to tell you won't be easy for you to understand, but all our lives depend on it."  He looked into her eyes unable to believe that he had been able to win and keep the heart of this cool stubborn woman.  His younger self must have had the patience of Job. Then all thought went out of his mind, and he shuddered, as her hip bumped against his, unleashing primitive feelings she was able to easily arouse. "But for the love of God, stop struggling, or this could get embarrassing for both of us."

As the significance of his words sunk in, she froze.  "Why should I believe anything you have to say? You must have had a hand in this cruel joke."  Her voice cracked at the thought of him putting her in a position that would humiliate her so badly. "How else could I have gotten into your quarters, and your bed?"

"You want to know?"  He gritted his teeth at how stubborn she could be.  She was testing him to the limit.  She was his wife and he loved her. Having her body pressed intimately against his, made it hard to think rationally. "You walked through that door, and climbed into this bed, of your own freewill, as you've been doing for the last four years."

"I would never consort with a male not of my own species, no matter how much I wanted…Aahhh…" She quickly changed the direction of her argument.  "It is illogical.  I have not known you for four years!"

"Easy, Love," Jonathan tried to sooth her. "If I let go of your wrists, will you hold still?"

She stared into his eyes, looking for the man who had been so kind to her over the last weeks.  "I will hear what you have to say."

He loosened his hold on her wrists, but didn't free them completely.  Her fighting skills were too well trained, he needed a bit more reassurance that she would cooperate. "We only _consorted_ for the first two years.  The last two you have been my wife and I have been your bondmate." He found it interesting that her main worry had been that they were together, not the issue at the center of it all, which was time travel.  

"Bonded?" Her head swam with the possibilities.  She was hallucinating or he was, either way they had stepped off the edge of reality.  "I do not know what you are talking about, but if you do not let me up, I shall call security.  You talk as if I am a fool who would believe in time travel for my own means."

"It's nice to know this is a future you would have chosen, if given the chance."  He smiled as he held up her left hand with his. "Maybe this will give you some proof."

"No.  It cannot be."  She whispered when she saw the gold band on her third finger, and a matching one on his.  She knew the ring was a tradition among the people of Earth, but what made her stomach clench were the Vulcan words that were engraved into the metal. _'My mind to your mind, forever together, forever apart.'_  "I do not believe in time travel, the Vulcan Science Directorate says time travel is…."

"Not fair?"  He grinned at her as he finished her sentence in an unlikely way.

"No, yes…I never told you about that."  The detailed report she had written for him after the Suliban had captured Enterprise, and questioned her, using truth drugs, had been carefully edited, to cut out as much of her confused delirium as possible.

"Not in your time you didn't, but in mine you have."  He smiled down at her, trying to make this as easy on her as he could.  "If one can travel through time, it adds validity to the possibility that Vulcans and Humans will be swapping chromosomes. There was a time you believed that _the second supposition was dependent on the first."_

"That is the last thing I remember thinking."  She held very still, and watched the man whose face was inches from hers.  "I was in the craft that we had pulled aboard Enterprise, the one you believed was from the future."

"Your theory is that when you went to the ship to run the metallurgical study, you took the opportunity to try and find the answers to the two questions that were uppermost in your mind:  is time travel possible; and would aliens, specifically Vulcans mate outside of their species?"  Over the years he and his wife had discussed this many times, and it was the only possible conclusion T'Pol had been able to come up with.  "While you were in the craft, you got an intense dose of Temporal Radiation.  That combined with Vulcan physiology and your considerable mental powers, gave you the answers you were seeking, but not in the way you would have liked." 

"I will not accept that!" T'Pol shook her head and began to move again, until her leg brushed against his, causing him to gasp and catch his breath.

"You never have, until recently."  He shook his head and fought to keep from smiling.  This was his T'Pol, stubborn to the end.  No matter what year it was, there were some things about her that would never change.

"Why all of the sudden would I change a lifetime of thinking?"  She challenged. 

"We don't have much time and there are things we need to discuss."  He neatly sidestepped her question.  The less she knew about her future, the better off she would be. "It is imperative that when you go back to your own time, that you change nothing."  There was so much he wanted to tell her, but was afraid that anything he said might change her future and his past.  "The easy way to convince you would be for us to drop our mental shields and touch the bond we've formed, but I am afraid if we do that, you might carry some residual part of it back to 2152 and it is too soon."

"Us?  Captain you have no mental shields."

"I didn't in the past, but you taught me."  He saw the doubt on her face disappear as he felt a gentle probing he recognized as her mind reaching for his.  "That isn't a wise thing to do, T'Pol.  Your mind is much stronger than mine, and it is in your own best interest to pull back."

"This is some kind of trick, I would never bond outside my species."  Though she took his advice, and stopped trying to probe his public mind, she refused to believe what he was saying.  In a small span of minutes she was being asked to throw away a lifetime of teaching on two important issues, one cultural and the other scientific. It was too much!  

"Then believe this!"  He grabbed her left hand and placed it over her abdomen. "We are more than bonded."

"That is impossible."  She froze, when instead of her usually flat stomach her hand covered a rounded paunch, and she felt the mental stirrings of a three-month girl fetus that was half Human and half Vulcan. "The High Command would never sanction this, any of it."

"To hell with the High Command."  Jon gritted his teeth.  "We sanctioned it, and that's all that mattered. Phlox did too," he shrugged.  "We couldn't have done it without his help.  He says she'll have her mothers ears."  He ran his hand gently over one of the delicate points that he loved to kiss. Both the man and the woman remembered a conversation in a darkened crewman's cabin; T'Pol's memories were fresh, a few hours old.  Jonathan's were from almost five years ago.

"How can I be from the past and carry this child of the future?"  No matter how hard she applied the principles of logic, she was lost.

"It's because you're, you, in both times.  I didn't understand it when Daniels tried to explain it to me, and I still don't."  He felt sorry for her and wanted to make this as easy as he could.  The problem was, the more she knew, the more danger there was that she might accidentally contaminate the timeline.

"Please, Jonathan, let me up."  Their bodies were still pressed together and it was taking all her concentration to keep her emotions from running wild.  It was like being part of a very vivid dream, with no end in sight. Nothing she did helped, and since finding out about the child she carried, logic seemed to have deserted her.

"I can't.  This is where we live our private lives." Every time she'd moved, he'd shifted to block her view of their surroundings, and it had been playing hell with his self-control.  "There are clues everywhere to your future. Just know and believe that if everything is done as it was in the past, we will end up here together."

"Did she, did I, say how long I was in the…I was here?"  T'Pol couldn't make herself use the word future, again. It would validate something she had yet to reconcile with.

"Your memory was sketchy at best.  When you first got back, there was only an odd feeling that you'd lost some time.  Over the weeks and months that followed you'd remember things in bits and pieces."  He watched her eyes widen as he spoke of her future as if it was the past. "Later you began to dream about it, but in true Vulcan fashion denied it.  You didn't tell me anything until after we were bonded, and didn't mention the baby until after she was conceived.  That was what made you finally believed that you traveled through time."

"I'm sorry."  She reached for his cheek, but pulled back before her hand made contact. She could not tell her Jonathan many things, but this man from the future, who already knew so much about her, and them, made it easy to talk to.  "There is much I have kept from you and it has caused you pain, in the past." 

"You waited for a good reason.  You lived with the possibility that you really had seen what was to come, and with that came responsibility." The irony hit him that he was the one who was damning them both to times of silence, when reaching out would have helped relieve the pain, but everything must be played out as it was before!  He forced himself to lighten his thoughts, this may not be _his_ T'Pol yet, but even back then she had been adept at reading him. "There's a lot you did tell me." He ran his fingers over her hair where it feathered gently against her face, and smiled.  "I have wonderful memories from many of our talks.  Like when you finally told me that it was Hoshi that gave you the new haircut, which makes you look soft and feminine."

"It had been a boring afternoon on the catwalk and I needed it done. Ensign Sato got carried away." She tried to shrug it off.  "It is of no importance."

"It was to me." He smiled.  He had forgotten how serious she could be. "I noticed right away, but knew if I said anything, you'd probably go back to the much more severe cut you wore up until then."

"Hair should be functional, and easy to care for." Though the little trick the Ensign had preformed with her scissors met those requirements, T'Pol knew that if he had spoken about the change, she would have considered it an unnecessary indulgence. _She never_ _realized he knew her so well_.  It was an older Jonathan she was talking to now, but he was speaking of things he had felt and understood five years earlier.

"You've told me other things too.  That you like to indulge in a piece of pecan pie when you think no one is looking. That hidden away with T'Mir's journal is the purse she carried when on Earth, and you treasure it."  He watched her process the information he was telling her.  They both knew it was unimportant, so he could speak of it.  But there was one other thing he wanted badly to tell her, something she needed to know, but it could change everything. He threw caution to the wind.  She had always trusted him; maybe this knowledge would make her next decisions easier. "Most importantly, you told me that you love me, and have since before you understood the meaning of the word."

"I do?" She blinked to clear her eyes of all emotion, but from the expression on his face it had been useless.  _Was that what she had been fighting against all this time?  Was the one human emotion she had never studied, the one that would be her downfall?_ "I did?  I told you that?"

"Yes, and I told you how much I loved you, and had for a very long time. I still do."  He shifted slightly, to put some space between them.  He was missing his wife badly; they needed to get on with business.  "I'm sorry, but there're things I must tell you, in case you do have more memories this time."

"If I really did travel in time, why should things be any different than before?"  She still wasn't ready to believe any of this was real.  She could be suffering from a side affect of the new medication she was using for her Pa'nar Syndrome.

"The ship was leaking Temporal Radiation."  He knew that what he was going to tell her hadn't happened yet in her timeline, but he doubted she would remember anything so soon after returning to Enterprise. "Two different times, members of our crew had problems with the radiation.  For them, time kept repeating itself, but with a difference, they remember more and more with each repetition."

"You believe I might experience that?" 

"_We_," he smiled and thumped his chest, then lightly touched the tip of her chin. "_We believed it might happen._ We didn't want to take the chance, too much was at stake.  It is imperative that you do nothing to change the timeline. I understand that to the T'Pol of your time, the idea of bonding and mating with a Human is abhorrent, but this is much larger than the three of us."  He knew she wasn't his wife, but he couldn't keep his hand from moving protectively over the child she carried.  "You must do nothing that would prevent this from happening."

"Jonathan---" She wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that his touch made her want him badly, but years of training kept her silent.

"No.  We can debate this all night and nothing will change, but if you go back there and don't do everything as it was done before, _everything might change, and not just for us_!"  He didn't dare tell her too much, but she needed to know how important this was.  "While we were been busy forming a union on Enterprise, Earth and Vulcan were busy forming one of their own.  I can't tell you much about it, but nothing must be done to damage it."

"I do not understand how anything we could do would affect two world governments."  T'Pol felt suddenly cold.  She had been ready to believe him, but now she was uncertain.

"Indirectly we played a major role in the political activity of the time.  Our governments were forced to face reality when we joined, and later we became the blueprint for something bigger than the two of us, and more powerful than Earth or Vulcan."

"Vulcan would never approve of our bond, and they would accept the idea of time travel, before they would accept the idea of a child of mixed species."  Her brows rose into her finely feathered bangs in challenge.

 "Approved may be too strong a word. The bond is sanctioned, by Soval, no less, and the idea of our child is accepted, in theory." He grinned because she was quoting herself, or maybe it was that she was going to quote herself, sometime soon in his ready room of the past.  "But they will not budge on the idea of time travel."

"Vulcans do not change, the Ambassador, least of all."

"Yes they do, and so do Star Fleet Captains. I needed to do some changing myself. It started with Soval, but I admit the Andorian, Shran saw it coming long before anyone else.  Once I was able to win the Ambassador's approval, things began to change." Jonathan was treading on thin ice, but he needed to be sure she understood how important it was for her to suppress any urge to meddle in history, if memories should surface too soon.

"The Andorian cease fire that you helped bring about?"  She watched him carefully as she questioned him.  "You are saying that it began with that?"  To her memory, Soval had walked away from Enterprise with very little that was positive to say about the Captain and even less about her.

"That and other things, but I wasn't the only one that helped him change his ideas. He saw things in you that hadn't been there before.   And your ability to work well with Humans, made him understand that our two species, when working together, were an extremely efficient partnership.  He was impressed because you changed, but remained true to your Vulcan heritage. Like Ambassador V'Lar, you thrived while interacting with another culture."  He grinned at her, because he knew that she had yet to tell his counter part of five years ago, what Soval had said to her when on Pon M'Car. It would happen sometime soon, but it hadn't happened yet.  "You might speak Vulcan with a Human accent, but you were still a Vulcan."

"I told you about that, too?"  She wanted him to be more specific, it would be easier if she could remember it all, and do the right things at the right time.  

"Eventually you told me everything."  He smiled, wanting to relieve her of any doubts. "But there is more _I_ need to tell _you_. When, it became necessary for Earth and Vulcan to form a temporary alliance for their mutual safety, Soval became our biggest fan.  He saw what we had accomplished, and knew it was in Vulcan's best interest to join with Earth.  He has always trusted you, and your trust in me, turned his beliefs into convictions."  Jonathan remember the many times the Ambassador had pointed to them and challenged other Vulcans, that if T'Pol and the Earth Captain could do it, so could they.

"When the immediate danger passed, all those involved saw the advantage to a lasting partnership between our two worlds.  By that time our bond had become official, and others saw what we've known for a long time, that our two species work better together than alone.  While we've been busy creating a life for the future."  He caressed her abdomen and smiled.  "Vulcan and Earth have been _creating a way of life for the future_.  It will make, and keep the universe safe for over a thousand years.  I know because Daniels referred to it when he took me that far ahead in time. Past that I don't know, I can't be sure, but from what little he told me, it will become a power to be reckoned with, and the reason the Suliban were trying so hard to kill me."

"If you and I are at the heart of all this, the logical thing would have been for Silik to kill me when he had the chance."  T'Pol had been sure she would not survive, when Archer had disappeared and the Suliban had captured the ship.

"I think that it was in his plan to do so, but Enterprise escaped." He had already told her more than he should have, but she had been his sounding board for a long time.  It seemed natural to go on talking. "When I was trying to get back to the ship, Daniels told me, '_Silik wanted to stop events I would set in motion, that helped created this_ _a…alliance_.'  I think that he was referring to not only all the good Enterprise's first mission accomplished, but also, our interactions with Soval.  Without his belief in me, and finally Humans in general, the idea would have died before it started."      

"You are talking about the Federation that Crewman Daniels spoke to you about?"  She could not imagine her world entering into a partnership with Earth, in anything Vulcan did not control, much less something that would have consequences for the next thousand years. 

"It would appear I've already told you more than I should have."  Archer frowned. He had forgotten telling T'Pol what Daniels had said when he'd been pulled into the future. He wanted to tell her everything, but couldn't. He wanted her to know that four months ago, they broke ground for a monument in front of the downtown public library in San Francisco. It was to commemorate the new treaty, which at Soval's insistence was now called The United Federation Of Planets.  The Vulcan ambassador had high hopes for the alliance. To Archer's way of thinking it all fit with the little Daniels had told him, years earlier.

"There is more, but you cannot tell me, can you?"  For the first time she slid her hands over his sides and around his back, enjoying the feeling of Human skin under her palms.  It would be easy to doubt his words, but there was nothing about him that she could ever doubt.

"No I can't."  He shivered at her touch.  "But you left a message for yourself.  You said I should remind you that you promised to help me if I ever needed someone I could trust.  Well, I need that person now; I need you to trust me, and everything I've told you. It would be easy for you to go back to your time, and pull away from ideas that you can't make sense of."

"I will do as you ask, but from what you say, there is little worry that I will remember much, though you are right, it would be very hard for me if I knew for certain that I would go against everything I have been taught." His story was almost impossible to believe, if he were anyone but Jonathan Archer, she would call him a lier. But he was not, so she would keep her word because she believed in him, not because her Vulcan honor demanded it.  It was not logical, but many things about him were not.

"Thank you," he whispered. "I'll probably know if all goes well, within seconds of when you leave.  If it doesn't, I don't want to remember what I missed out on." 

"I will do my best to send your wife back to you."  She could not imagine what it would be like to have this strong brave man care about her in such a way.

"You are my wife, T'Pol." He caressed her ear and jaw.  "But from your end of time, we both have a lot of growing and changing to do.  Some of it will be very difficult, but it's worth the trip, the good times and the bad.  Remember that, and forget all the rest."

"Jonathan," T'Pol cried out and held him tighter, as she became dizzy and cold.  "I think it is starting. I will try, you have my word."

He rolled on his side, taking her with him, trying to give calming mental support as she had taught him.  In the blink of an eye he leaned close and whispered. "Just in case, T'Pol," and his lips covered hers in a searing kiss, then, for her, everything went blank.

+++++++++++++++++++++

T'Pol shivered as her eyes opened.  She was in a deep black pit and it took her a moment to remember where she was.  She had been gathering data for Captain Archer about the metals that made up the ship they had found floating in space. She had an odd memory of trying to find answers from the ship itself.  Shaking her head, she checked her scanner and realized that more time had elapsed than she realized.  That explained the empty feeling in her stomach.  She had missed dinner and it was getting quite late. Gathering her things she climbed out of the ship and headed for the mess hall.

…………………………..

TWO DAYS LATER-- 

T'Pol came rapidly awake and climbed out of bed. She knew she had been dreaming, but could not remember what it was about.  Someone had been calling her name.  It was a voice she knew, and she should have been able to recognize it, but every time she tried to focus on it, her mind shied away.

Sluicing cool water on her face, she looked up and started at herself in her bathroom mirror.  When she had first joined Enterprise's crew she had though the large expanse of glass over her dresser and sink a silly Human indulgence.  But she had discovered they were useful things, except on nights like tonight when they kept no secrets and told no lies. As she looked at her reflection, she knew there was something she had been putting off too long. Turning quickly, she grabbed her robe and headed out the door.

"Captain, are you awake?"  She called softly as she knocked on his hatch rather than ringing the bell.

"Come in."  Archer was weary. It had been a long day, on top of a long week.  He had just received a response from the message he'd sent to the High Command, and it wasn't what he'd hoped for.  A late night visit from his Science Officer was the last thing he'd expected, but he was very glad she had come.  One look was all it took to tell him that it wasn't Enterprise's Science Officer who was paying him a visit, but T'Pol.  "What can I do for you Sub-Commander?"

"May I speak with you?"  Her eyes traveled between his bed, with the covers thrown back, and the man, wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt, who was staring at the computer terminal on his desk.

"Well, come on in."  He motioned her over to the couch, and swiveled his chair around to watch her move gracefully past him.  "I'm not going to bite."  It had been too long since they had had a late night conversation, and he had missed them, but they had both needed time to adjust to the subtle change in their relationship since the Vulcan Medical Directorate had discovered she had Pa'nar Syndrome.

"I sent my report to the High Command.  Did you receive the copy I sent you?"  She was unused to this kind of conversation and not sure where to start.  It was illogical to talk of unimportant things, when she had come to speak of Koss, Kern and recent developments with Soval.  Ensign Sato had indicated that she owed Jonathan an explanation of the events that had happened after they plotted and marked the trinary black hole.  And a voice inside her that she didn't understand had prodded her to tell him about the conversations she had had with the Ambassador on Pon M'Car.

"Yes, I read it earlier this evening."  It had surprised him that she'd sent it to him, but it had gratified him, as well. "I heard from them a few minutes ago. That's why I'm still up."  He nodded in the general direction of his open bed.

"Oh." 

"Oh, is right."  He smiled as he thought of the politely worded response.  It had been better than he had expected, but not all that he'd hoped for.  "They accepted my apology for what happened to the Val Kerr, but seemed unperturbed by the damage to the ship.  They also, appeared somewhat surprised that I'd thank them for their help, and would apologize for what happened."  Their response had perplexed him.  _Did they think he was an uncivilized ruffian?_

"Did they have anything to say about your theory of where the ship we found came from?"  She had heard from the high Command as well.  They believed Captain Archer had shown unusual honor when he had contacted them about the Val Kerr.  It had not been expected of a Human, but they had remained silent on the subject of the derelict ship that had been found. 

"They told me, that according to the Vulcan Science Directorate, time travel was illogical, but they would be sure to inform them of what we found, the next time they had a reason to contact them."  He smiled as he stood and stretched.  "It will be difficult to prove anything, to anyone, without evidence.  All we have left are the slides from the tissue samples Phlox was studying, and they could have come from anywhere."

"Do you really believe that ship was from the future?" She watched him pace, then move back to the couch. He was a large man who moved very differently than a Vulcan male. 

"Don't you?"  Jonathan looked her over carefully as he sat beside her.  She had come to him for a reason, and he wanted to find out was it was.

"It goes against all I have been taught to believe."  Something stirred deep within her, almost a memory, but she quickly suppressed it. 

"That's not what I asked, T'Pol."  He moved closer, as shadows played across her face.

"I cannot," she whispered, then cleared her throat.  "I cannot believe it," she clarified.

"Which is it you can't believe: time travel, or the genetic mix of the pilot?"

"Time travel is illogical, and Vulcans do not mate outside their species."  One was deeply ingrained in her culturally, and the other was a scientific principle.

"I see. If you believe that ship is from another time, then it would leave the door wide open for the idea of mating across species."  He had wondered why all of the sudden she'd began to fight the idea of time travel.  When they had talked about it in the past she'd agreed to keep an open mind on the subject.  It wasn't until Phlox had discovered the genetic make-up of the pilot, that she had become rigid in her disbelief. "You realize the second supposition isn't dependent on the first."

"What?"  That sounded familiar, like a misquote of something she knew well, but she could not place it.

"T'Pol, it's all right."  He covered her hands with his, as she sat very still beside him.  "No one is asking you to throw your beliefs away.  I just want you to try, and keep an open mind, like you did before." 

"It is very hard, but I will try." She whispered as she turned toward him.  Full, firm lips were inches away, and suddenly she knew what it would be like to feel them covering hers.  It was illogical to have such thoughts.  He was her Captain, and a Human, but for a split second she had a memory of their warm pressure against hers.  Then it was gone and she was free of the odd sensation that had engulfed her. 

"Good, if you're willing to try, you've got all the time you need, to come to terms with the outcome. I won't pressure you."  He knew that their conversation had gone beyond theory and had become very personal.  For a moment he had seen comprehension in her eyes, then she had blinked and it had vanished.

She nodded, as she stood, and moved toward the door. She had come to talk of personal matters, but he had beaten her to it.  It was as if she was walking a path that had been predetermined, but Vulcans did not believe in destiny, so it was illogical. She stopped and froze with her hand inches away from the door release.  "Jonathan," she whispered, and as she turned back toward him, her voice grew in strength.  "I had grown accustomed to having tea in the mess hall at 2330 hours.  In the past, I found your company…pleasing.  It has come to my attention there are some personal things I need to discuss with you."

"Would you like to meet tonight?"  He doubted a Vulcan had ever asked a Human on a date before, so he decided to make it easy for her.

"Yes."  She looked at him carefully.  _What was she really doing?_ "Yes, that would be agreeable."

"Then it's a date?"  He couldn't keep from grinning at her surprised look_.  'When had she become so easy to read?'    _

Long after T'Pol had left, Jonathan sat and contemplated her visit. Over the last three days he had seen her get more and more adamant on her views against time travel. Whatever internal fight she was fighting, wasn't over, but he planned on making it as easy for her as he could. When she'd come knocking on his door, in the middle of the night, she'd looked as if she'd stepped out of a dream. If she had, he hoped he had been what she was dreaming about. As he climbed back into bed, he nodded to himself, '_yes that would be very fair, since he'd been dreaming about her for the last six months.'_

As the Captain and Science Officer of Enterprise slept, time moved along, one second after another.  With every beat of the chronometer, it brought them closer to a future they had both glimpsed, but neither was ready to embrace.  Somewhere in the vast many-layered structure of temporal physics, an older Jonathan Archer and an older T'Pol slept in each other's arms. Soon the future would become the present, and it would be filled with memories of the past and each other. 

All reviews and comments are welcome. 


	8. Compass Points

Spoilers:  Singularity, Canamar

Pairings:  Archer/T'Pol and Hoshi/Trip

Ch 8 Compass Points

Jonathan knew he was early, but then so was T'Pol.  He stood in the shadows and watched her slowly sip her tea in the darkened Mess Hall.  She appeared transfixed by something on the other side of the view port, and he couldn't help wonder what it was.  Last night he'd kidded her about meeting her for a _'date,'_ but from the way his stomach was jumping, he realized he hadn't been joking.  She looked different in the casual Vulcan attire she wore, instead of her uniform.  The lines of her soft quilted jacket and slim fitting silky pants made her look feminine, while the shades of muted blues and purples that shot through the material, gave her skin a warmth that was usually missing.  Smiling he was glad he had dressed casually, too.

Under the guise of collecting his thoughts, he took a few more minutes to admire her quiet elegance from a distance.  She was a beautiful woman; he'd always thought so, even when he'd found her cold and remote.  At first it had galled him that he'd think a Vulcan attractive, but as the months went by he began to forget she was Vulcan and to see her only as T'Pol. 

She could feel him watching her.  One moment she had been alone, the next she had felt his presence intrude on her thoughts.  When she had suggested this meeting, it had seemed easy, but now that he was standing a few feet away, it was not. _It was illogical that it should be so, but it was true nonetheless._ There had been many times in the last months that they had dropped their professional persona, left their heritages behind them, and met somewhere in the middle. Tonight should have been no different.

"T'Pol?"  Jonathan moved slowly into the room.  "Would you like some more tea?" 

"Yes, thank you."  The silence in the Mess Hall surrounded them, as he brought their orders from the protein resequencer, along with a warming pot, he'd filled with more for each of them. "Captain…"

As he took his seat, he cocked his head and grinned at her. "I thought we'd leave the Captain and the Sub-Commander in their quarters tonight."

"That would be ideal, but Ensign Sato, has told me that part of what I have to say should have been said to the Captain weeks ago. Though it is of a personal nature, it is something that brushed on the honor of Enterprise."  Vulcans kept their personal lives separated from their professional ones so it was a concept that she had not understood, and was glad that the Ensign had pointed it out to her.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?"  Archer watched her eyes over his cup.  She hid so much of herself behind a cool mask, but it was getting so he could read her more easily as time went by. 

"Do you recall when Enterprise discovered the black hole with a trinary cluster?"

"That's not something I'm likely to forget anytime soon."  Though he wished he could forget how he'd manhandled her when the radiation sickness from the anomaly had been at its worst.  He still woke up in a cold sweat, from nightmares of the incident.  In those nightmares, she had fought back, as he had gripped her shoulders and had shaken her.  That was where his dreams always veered from reality. Instead of shoving her out his door, in the wild surreal dreams, he pulled her to the deck and took her with all the passion he'd been feeling at the time, mixed with years of accumulated anger toward Vulcans.  __

"It was not a high point for any of us."  It had taken her many nights of meditation, but she had come to terms with her behavior while under the influence of the radiation.  She had gone to Jonathan's quarters that last time in hope of getting him to help her save the ship, but there had been many layers buried under the simple actions.  When she had crossed his threshold, carrying a thermos of coffee, she was very aware of the passions that had rolled off him, as he had thrown her out on her earlier visit.  She had known that if she tried hard enough, she would be able to wake the unconscious man sprawled across his desk, but what she would find when he awoke, was another matter.  She had been resolved that either they would get Enterprise through the meteor cluster, or they would die, but no matter the out come, it would be done together. 

"T'Pol, your actions were above reproach." He was caught by surprise when she shrugged her shoulders in an oddly Human gesture, and fiddled with her large black cup. _She appeared nervous, which only served to peak his curiosity. _ 

"Thank you Captain, but this has to do with the dinner almost a week later."  Green eyes met green eyes, as understanding flowed between them.

"Sub-Commander Kern?"  His question was gentle, he'd promised himself he wouldn't push her on the matter, and the look of naked emotion that flitted across her face at the mention of the man's name added resolve to the promise.

"Yes.  Before I was assigned to Enterprise, I was to finish out the year in San Francisco, then go home to Vulcan to bond with Koss, his younger sibling.  I believe in Human terms it is the approximate equivalent of marriage."  She was unprepared for his surprised expression. It was evident that Commander Tucker and Ensign Sato had kept her secret.

"You were engaged to that man's brother?"  He was suddenly hit by a shaft of jealousy.  Up until then, he'd never thought of her with another men in her life. 

"I am unsure of the nuances of Earth matrimonial rituals, but I believe that would be a correct description of the agreement between his family and mine." 

"This was between _your families_, you had no say in it?" Relief replaced the jealousy of moments earlier. _He should have known she wouldn't have an emotional entanglement on Vulcan; it was too out of character._

"We choose not to be impulsive about our unions. Since Vulcans mate for life, it is taken very seriously.  Tradition dictates that the knowledge of older generations should prevail, to keep families strong and give stability to our young.  I have observed a number of other cultures that could benefit from this." Her brow rose as she nodded toward the Human across from her.  "Koss and I had met twice.  The first time when the agreement was formed, and the second for the preliminary bonding ceremony, which takes place just prior to the male reaching puberty."

"Let me get this straight," Jonathan angled his head and tried not to grin.  "Kern was upset because you chose to disregard a lifetime commitment, that was made _for_ you?"

"That is correct.  But those events are unimportant."  T'Pol took a deep breath, _this was the hard part, the part she had not wanted to admit to anyone, least of all Jonathan._  Her honor and her ship's had been slandered by the other Vulcan. "It is what transpired that night at dinner that I must apologize for.  An important event for Enterprise and Earth was marred by insults due to my personal life."  

"T'Pol, the shame is Kern's, not yours.  You have nothing to apologize for."  Jonathan reached across the table and covered her hand with his.  "No matter what that man said or did, it doesn't take away from the fact that our two species finally did something together, for the betterment of all those who will travel in that region.  By placing those markers and warning beacons, our two planets have saved lives."

"He was neither complimentary toward me nor my position on Enterprise, and even less so to Humans in general." She pulled her hand free, not wanting to continue with the line of discussion, but knowing she must. "If Kern were to rise in the High Command, he could prove difficult."  

"That's just too damn bad, Humans are here to stay and I hope you are too."  Archer's laughter was cut short by a terrible feeling that his carelessness had cost T'Pol more than he realized. "Who broke off your arrangement, and more importantly, when?"

"I did."  She couldn't meet his eyes.  No matter how much she had mediated, she could not come up with an answer to why she had gone against her family and tradition to remain on Enterprise, at least not a reason she was willing to accept.  "It was early in the first year of our mission."

"Was that before or after Tolaris attacked you?"  Archer felt as if his throat was filled with ground glass.  The ramifications of his careless insistence that she spend time with a group of Vulcans who had chosen to embrace their emotions as well as logic, were mounting.  He found his jealousy was back in full force.  _Had she ended it with the Vulcan male only because of her Pa'nar Syndrome? Had his actions cost her an attachment she had wanted and planned on?_

"He had nothing to do with my decision."  T'Pol's head came up, her words cool and precise, a stereotypical Vulcan.  "I stayed on Enterprise by choice, not by necessity, and I still do."

"Why?"  He thought he had known her well, but suddenly she threw out an odd piece of information and before his eyes everything twisted like a kaleidoscope! "Why did you decide to stay here, rather than go home and marry?"

"I do not know," she whispered.  His question had caught her off guard.  Gripping her cup, she lowered her eyes, unable to meet his intense scrutiny.  She did not understand why she had chosen to turn her back on everything that she had been taught, to stay on the Earth vessel, but she had an intense memory of sitting in the Mess Hall, eating her first piece of pecan pie, the night the Vulcan cruiser departed without her. The sweet taste had been soothing and added validity to her illogical decision.  She knew that from this moment on, she would always associate it with the man sitting across from her:  sweet, strong, pleasing and highly illogical, but desirable. 

………………….

Four Days Later 

"Ma'am, the Captain and the Commander have missed their second check in." Hoshi looked up from her communications board.  She hoped her voice hadn't betrayed any of the worry that clutched at her insides.

The men had gone to the planet Kenoeeno, two days earlier. Since it was the major trading hub for the system, all parking orbits were reserved months in advance, so they had taken Shuttlepod One.  The plan had been for Enterprise to backtrack, and do some repairs to the last communication satellite they had dropped, while Captain Archer and Commander Tucker participated in first contact with the Enolians.  Hopefully, they would be able to negotiate enough orbit time to do some much needed trading, and for everyone to get some R&R. 

"Anything on sensors, Lt. Reed?"  The Sub-Commander sat on the edge of the Captain's chair, her relaxed composure of moments ago, forgotten.  Her eyes swept the area of space visible through the forward screen, as if by sheer will, she could make the pod appear.

"No Ma'am."  The Armory Officer quickly worked the controls at his station to intensify and broaden their range.

"Mr. Mayweather, head for the coordinates of the rendezvous." T'Pol gripped the arms of her chair in an attempt to squelch the lump that had formed in her stomach.  "Lt. Reed and Ensign Sato keep looking."  

After an eight-hour search, Enterprise finally found Pod One, floating free in space, hours off course.  All power had been shut down and the emergency beacon taken off line.  Malcolm wasn't sure what mix of sensitive hearing, voodoo, and female intuition had led Hoshi to the correct coordinates, but whatever it was, it had worked.

When the little vessel was brought up on the view screen, for the first time, T'Pol blinked to clear her mind and wipe any emotion from her face.  The odd angle at which the pod was canted, spoke volumes, even if Hoshi's repeated unanswered hails had not.

It was another hour before all the data was gathered and carefully analyzed. It didn't look good.  The Captain and the Commander appeared to have been abducted; both had been wounded in the struggle that had taken place in the Pod.   Before heading to Archer's Ready Room, T'Pol gave the order to make best speed to the men's last known destination, Kenoeeno.

"Lt. Benson, you have the bridge."  T'Pol temporarily turned over command to the beta shift officer who had taken over the science station while she had remained at the post he should have occupied.  Though an emergency could happen anytime during a 24-hour day, nights were usually quieter, with fewer stations fully manned since key personal could be in place in a matter of minutes.  But tonight, no one had left the bridge.  Both alpha and beta shift had taken part in the search for their Captain and Chief Engineer.

…………………..

The soft swoosh of the Ready Room door closing knocked the steel out of T'Pol's spine.  She hadn't realized she'd been holding every muscle in her body tightly clenched, to keep control of the unusual sensation in her stomach.  As she reached for the Captain's desk, to steady herself, she found she was still holding the Padd that had been retrieved from the shuttle.  With her thumb she reached across and played Jonathan's last log entry again.  The warm sound of his voice was an odd contrast to the cool brown-red smudged fingerprint across the miniature screen.  She hadn't needed Dr. Phlox's diagnosis to tell her it was dried Human blood. 

The bell on the door chirped, bringing her attention into focus and away from things she could do nothing about.  _'What has happened, has happened.  I can do nothing about the past.  I must concentrate on the future.'  _The words tumbled through her mind as she straightened and sat carefully at Jonathan's desk.

"Come," she called out, after she was sure she had removed any trace of what she was thinking from her face.

"Sub-Commander."  Even Dr. Phlox lacked his usual levity.  "I have taken the liberty of checking with Mr. Mayweather and it will be at least six hours before we are in hailing distance of Kenoeeno, I would suggest that the bridge crew be ordered to eat and rest.  Some of them have been on duty for fourteen hours."

"Your suggestion is a prudent one." Technically beta shift was on duty, but Sato, Reed, and Mayweather had remained at their stations long after their shifts were over.  The bridge had been crowded with each station doubly manned, but T'Pol had ignored the logical and let everyone remain.   

"That means you too, Sub-Commander."  Phlox could see she was tired, but determined.  He didn't plan on letting her argue with him.  "We will need your negotiating skills at peek performance.  Besides I've always thought that the best leader does so by example, don't you agree?"  He smiled his patented smile to take the slight sting out of his words.

………………………..

Twenty minutes later T'Pol entered the almost empty Mess Hall.  Chef had quickly made up a plate of vegetable stir-fry for her, and she knew she had to eat it, even if her stomach rolled at the thought.

"May I join you Ensign?"  She walked over to the table in the corner where Hoshi was pushing food around her plate and staring out the view port.  Though she'd eaten with Ensign Sato in a group, and on the Catwalk, she had never sought her out.  T'Pol could not explain the need to do so now. 

"Yes, Ma'am."  The young Ensign tried to smile but worry was clearly etched on her face.  "Space is so vast."  She muttered to herself, forgetting how acute T'Pol's hearing was.

"Vast, but not infinite."  The Vulcan had almost quoted the Science Directorate, but something about the other woman's expression had stopped her.

"Will we be able to find them?" All Hoshi could think about was the huge empty hole that had been torn out of her insides when she realized that Trip was missing.

"It will take patience and logic, but this crew is capable of both." T'Pol closed her mind to any other outcome. "With proper discipline anything is possible."

Hoshi looked up into the cool controlled face of the Vulcan, whose icy features might have fooled anyone else, but the Ensign was a reader of people.  It was part of what made her a leader in the field of linguistics.  She'd learned long ago that body language told as much as the spoken word.  Since that was true for Vulcans as well as Humans, she could see the message that T'Pol was shouting loud and clear. But it took her by surprise, nonetheless.  Instead of the clinical detached need to solve a complex problem, that would be the expected response from a member of her overly logical species, T'Pol was worried.  That in its self spoke volumes, but the worry had driven the older woman to seek out companionship.  Which told Hoshi it was personal in nature. _'Could both of them have a_ _man who they cared about lost, maybe dead? Hoshi had suspected it for a long time, but to come face to face with the stark reality of it took her by surprise. _  As the knowledge sunk in it gave her courage, and a kinship she had never thought she'd feel with the Vulcan woman.

"I hope you're right." Hoshi whispered and dropped any attempt to hide her feelings for Trip.  

"I…" T'Pol gave herself a moment of relief, and relaxed her features.  There was something about the young woman's quiet acceptance and deep longing that allowed her to just once she let her emotions show, even if it was only for the blink of an eye.  "My second foremother, I believe you would call her my great-grandmother was an early space traveler.  She lived most of her life among the stars.  She often referred to…" She searched for the correct Human word and when she could not come up with it, spoke in Vulcan. "She often referred to _va'car teran." _ T'Pol's mind spun, _what was she doing, speaking of family to an outworlder?   Why was she giving comfort to the young Human?  It would take strength and courage to do what must be done.  Platitudes would serve no purpose._

"Compass points?" Hoshi gave her the approximate English words.  In a detached part of her brain that was always looking for new and interesting words, she filed away the ancient Vulcan expression for an outmoded navigational device.

"Yes, compass points."  The Vulcan tried the words out on her tongue and nodded. _She had started this, now she would finish it.  Then it came to her, when Jonathan had handed over temporary command, he had also handed over the well being of his crew. Where Human's were concerned, that often went beyond the physical.  She would try and do as he would in this unfamiliar situation. _  "They are those things in our lives that give us direction when all else fails.  You told me once of your attraction for the Commander and I have observed his for you.  You will not let him down, just as…. _Enterprise_ will not let the Captain down.  We will find them, but I cannot promise what condition they will be in, when we do."

"Thank you, Sub-Commander."  Hoshi carefully schooled her face as she looked up into startlingly green eyes, that showed a depth of emotion and determination, that she remembered seeing only once before.  It had been months ago, they had been on the bridge, and she just had informed T'Pol that Malcolm and the Captain were to be executed in an hour, on an uncivilized pre-warp planet. 

As T'Pol excused herself to get some sleep, Hoshi's mind churned, 'c_ompass points, what a random comment.'  _Her eyes followed the ramrod straight back of her dining companion as the Vulcan left the Mess Hall. _'Oh dear, she was saying…she was talking about…the Captain. He means that much to her?'_

Standing slowly Hoshi moved to the view port and placed her hand against the plastiglass that protected them from the cold of space. She was seized by a deep sadness for them all. _'Please God, bring him home, bring them home.' _Her silent prayer caused tears to fill her eyes, until the stars that warped by blurred, and became indistinct sparkling trails in night_. 'And give me, give us, the strength we'll need to cope with whatever we find at the end of our journey.'_

……………………….

It was over!  It had ended as quickly as it had begun; only the time in-between had stretched on forever.  T'Pol stood beside the airlock with the bang and clank of pressure being restored to the docking collar, pounded in her ears.  The hatch slide open and there he was, tired, angry, bloody and bruised, but alive and less than a foot away.  

'_T'Pol,'_ her name whispered through his mind, as he watched emotions flash across her face, before she was able to control them.  _'She had been worried.' _He fought to remember his anger at the Enolian government, or he would have forgotten everything and embarrassed them both by reaching out and holding her close. He and Trip had almost died, but he had felt her presence when they had been in the most danger. '_I knew you'd find us, I never doubted.'  _He could see she was tired, and it had cost her, but she hadn't let him down.

'_Jonathan,' _she watched him turn away, but kept staring at the space he had occupied a moment ago.  _'Control, I must get control.'  _She reached deep inside of herself for the discipline that used to be as natural as breathing. She had to get through the crowd of people.  She needed to meditate; emotions were too near the surface, she would do something that she regretted if she was not very careful. Crossing her hands behind her back, she followed the men out of the Docking Bay, but was careful to stay far behind them. 

………………………..

Trip let hot water from the shower sluice over him.  He was beginning to think he just might feel clean again, sometime soon.  He and Jon had been kept in Sick Bay for hours.  Phlox had insisted on a complete physical for each man, as he had patched up their various cuts and bruises.  That had taken place only after the obligatory hour in decontam! Though the doctor had let them eat while they waited under the warm blue lights for a negative pathogen reading, the time had dragged.

He had used up a considerable amount of energy to keep from shouting at the Doc. They'd just been freed from one jail, and didn't need another. The look on Hoshi's worried tired face was the only thing that had made him keep his temper in check.  She'd been careful to stay on the periphery of the activity in Sick Bay, but never took her eyes off of him.  All he'd wanted to do was put his arms around her and hold her close until the reality of the last few days faded into the background.

Trip's features softened as he stepped out of the shower and quickly dressed.  Steam filled his quarters when he opened the bathroom door, adding an eerie quality to the silence that greeted him. His face fell when he didn't immediately see Hoshi, who he'd left sitting on his bed, her nose stuck in her latest paper, The Variant Of Written Symbols In The Denobian Culture.

"Oh Hosh," he murmured as he approached the woman who had fallen asleep while he'd been trying to wash the nightmare away.  They'd had no real plans, being together had been enough.  He'd waited a long time to watch her sleep, now he wasn't sure what he was going to do about it.  If she was any other woman it would have been easy, but she wasn't, and that was the problem.  "You're as exhausted as I am."  He knelt beside his bed and ran his hand through her long dark hair.  It brought a smile to his lips when he realized she'd worn it down the way he liked it best.

"Trip?"  She could hardly get her eyes open, but smiled as she felt his touch.  "Sorry I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"It's okay, Darlin', you look like you need it as badly as I do."  There were dark smudges under her eyes and the bounce had been missing from her step when they'd come from Sick Bay.

"I wasn't able to sleep while you were gone."  She whispered and put the Padd she'd been reading earlier, aside.  She'd promised herself that if she ever got him back, she'd tell him the truth, but it was harder than she had thought it would be.  "I was afraid that you were dead, and I…" She shrugged, unable to finish.

"I'm not dead, Darlin', I'm right here, an' not goin' anywhere."  He sat beside her on the bed and leaned over her until he could feel her soft breath on his face.  Her eyes were large and brown and he thought he'd die a happy man if he could just look into them forever.

"We've wasted so much time playing silly games." She cupped his cheeks, as she made a decision. "Let me stay here tonight?" 

"Darlin'." His voice was hoarse, as adrenaline short through him.  "You real sure 'bout that?  I've wanted you in here with me for a long time, but I know you've had some reservations."

"Charles Tucker III, I missed you."  Her breath feathered against his lips, while her small hands moving up and down his back, and worked their way under his shirt until she felt the tingle of his skin against her palms. "And I'm very sure.  When I thought you might be dead, all the distance I've kept between us seemed foolish."

"Hoshi," he loved to hear the sound of her name.  There had been times on the prison ship he'd repeated it over and over to himself.  As it had echoed through his head, her name, and the memory of her face, was what had kept him sane while being jabbered at by a talkative alien.  

He reached for the buttons on her blouse as he lay beside her, then rolled her beneath him, as their lips met. He wanted to touch her everywhere.  The feeling was so intense it made his hand shake, as he brushed her hair out of her eyes. "God, Hosh, you're so beautiful."  His words mixed with kisses as his lips worked their way down her neck.

……………………..

On another deck, a man slept fitfully.  His body ached from fistfights and his mind shuddered from the knowledge that he and his best friend had almost died.  Jonathan Archer shook himself awake to be rid of the nightmare of being back on the prison ship.  He stared at the ceiling and concentrated on Porthos's deep even breathing. 

_Porthos?  It couldn't be, he'd left the dog with Ensign Cutler_, who'd been taking care of him during the Captain's absence.  The little animal had been asleep when the men had been returned to Enterprise, and he hadn't wanted to disturb him.  Suddenly the hairs on the back of his neck rose! _THERE WAS SOMEONE IN HIS QUARTERS!_

Carefully raising his head he looked into the night and the shadows until he found a slim dark uniformed woman asleep on his couch.  '_T'Pol? What the hell are you doing here and why hadn't I heard you when you came in?'_   Part of him wanted to go to her and carry her to his bed, but sanity reasserted itself before he got any further than pushing back the covers. 

Jonathan lay back with his hands under his head.  She had been acting strange ever since his return.  _Had she missed him?_  He grinned when he considered the possibility.  He'd sure as hell missed her.  Who would have thought his life would come to this.  His eyes slowly closed and he let himself drift off to sleep to the quiet cadence of her breathing. _'I'll think about it later, but, oh yeah…I could get used to this'…_was the last thought that flitted through his mind before he fell into a relaxing sleep.

…………………………….

Archer turned over and slowly woke-up.  As he stretched and listened to the soothing sounds that were uniquely Enterprise, he realized something was missing.  Suddenly he remembered the night before.  _T'Pol, had she really been here?_  He looked over to where he thought he'd seen her, but she wasn't there.  He tossed back the sheet, and in two quick strides covered the distance between his bed and the couch.  Kneeling he ran his hand over the smooth cool surface.  A smile crossed his lips when he touched the place where he remember her curled up, with her head on the padded arm.  It was still warm!  '_Damn,'_ he grinned.  _'She must have just left, it hadn't been a dream.'_   A bubble filled his chest and it made it hard for him to breath.  Someday, somehow, she was going to have to tell him why she'd been there, but until then, he'd file it away as a happy memory.  It was enough that she'd felt the need, and been comfortable enough to do so.

As he stood his eyes fell on the corner of a Padd, which was wedged between the couch cushion, and the arm.  _'It hadn't been there last night.'  _He knew that for sure because he'd sat in that very spot when he'd undressed.  The second he pulled it free, he realized it was his portable log.  The one he'd been carrying on Shuttlepod One.  He hadn't seen it since the attack and had assumed it was stolen.  It had been because of that type of unfamiliar technology that the Enolian Rangers had thought they were smugglers. He had assumed they'd 'confiscated' everything.

In the light of day it didn't take him long to see his fingerprint in dried blood that smeared across the tiny monitor.  T'Pol must have had it with her the night before, when she'd fallen asleep watching over him.  No wonder she'd looked so drawn and tired when he stepped through the airlock hatch.  He remembered what it had been like to come face to face with the reality of her blood, as it spilled out onto her uniform after she'd been shot. He didn't even want to think what it would have been like if he'd been the one to find Vulcan blood on an object he knew to be hers, and nothing but silence as to her whereabouts. _'Aw Babe,' _he whispered to the spot where she'd slept the night before. '_I'm so sorry.'_

Slipping the Padd onto his desk, he turned and headed for the shower.  It was a new day and he suddenly felt very much alive.  What had once been easy, just a game to while away the moments between first contacts, an experiment to see what was really beneath the surface of a women whose species he didn't really understand; had changed, become complicated, and very serious.  They were coming to a point in the road when both or either of them could get badly hurt. A decision had to be made: game or for real?  

"Damn," he muttered as hot water beat against his sore muscles.  "Even if I can figure out what I want, how am I supposed to find out what's in the heart of a Vulcan?"

_Reviews are always appreciated!_


	9. Alone In Empty Places

**Quote: ** of _The Teachings Of Surak_ is taken from the book Spock's World by Diane Duane.

**Spoilers:  **Mainly for The Crossing and Judgment, though there is mention of things that occurred in a number of earlier episodes and T'Pol is beginning to have vague dreams of her time travel in ch. 7.

**Additional disclaimer:  **Any resemblance of Hoshi's old boyfriend to someone real or imaginary is on purpose, as to what really happened to him; let the reader decide.

**ENJOY!  **

_Ch. 9 Alone In Empty Places  _

The body of Lt. Malcolm Reed walked the corridors of Enterprise.  Moments earlier an alien Wisp had attacked his cerebellum. Once it was in control of his motor functions, it had migrated to surrounding brain tissue, sending the essence of the man, whose body it had taken over, to a different plane of existence.

The Wisp smiled as it walked, marveling at the wonders of corporeal life.  The deck beneath its feet was hard, and the sensation of movement was new.  In its natural state, the alien had more power and control than the fragile body it now occupied, but since it lived as pure thought, it could only measure accomplishments in theory.  Now, in this lesser form, it possessed tactile senses, and its yardstick had changed.  It understood the thrill of putting ideas into action, and it wanted more!

It reveled in the feel of air moving in and out of lungs. Though its world had shrunk to tangible space, the area was filled with new and unusual sights and sounds. Colors, and the dance of light and shadow throughout its host's ship, were strange, new experiences.  Suddenly its olfactory sense came online; an aroma that caused its body-covering to tingle and blood pound had caught its attention.   

The Armory Officer was gone, but the Wisp had retained some of his basic instincts.  Working the override on the female's door had been easy.  It stood and watched her from across the room.  This had been the source of the fragrance that had called to it from two decks away, _this female_!  Though the man whose body it occupied wouldn't have been able to sense the woman from that distance, the Wisp had!  That was when it knew for sure that these corporeal creatures would be an ideal host.  Their puny mental capacity had allowed them to be easily overpowered and their senses enhanced, with no damage to the cellular structure that acted as a new home to the Wisp.

The alien took a moment to enjoy the sensations of increased blood pressure, heart rate and respirations, which the sight of her caused. As she tried to use verbal force to gain control of the situation, and make him leave her quarters, it understood why these inferior beings had made no attempt to do away with the antiquated and cumbersome need for two genders.  _The pleasure they received from interacting with one another, balanced out the inefficiency of their reproductive cycle._

T'Pol was careful to keep a distance between herself and the being that was occupying Lt. Reed's body.  Usually when she dropped her mental shields, she picked up residual emotions that the undisciplined Human mind broadcast, but it was not the case now.  Since the alien had taken over, Mr. Reed was left with a blank emotional signature, which was in odd contrast to the heated expression in its eyes. Though her first inclination had been to render it unconscious with a Nerve Pinch, the mixed messages she had received from the being left her uncertain as to the success of that approach.  The most expedient and safest action had been to call for help.  Without thinking she patched herself through to the one man she knew she could count on, Jonathan Archer.

…………….

"Are you all right?"  Archer looked her over carefully when the hatch closed behind the last of the Security Detail that had taken 'Malcolm' away. They were alone in her quarters and he knew it wasn't a good idea, especially with what had just transpired.  It burned in his gut that another man, even one under the control of one of those Wisps, had dared make advances toward her, especially when she was dressed as she was. He had first hand knowledge of what her body felt like with only the thin silky material of her green sleepwear separating it from his.  If the alien had touched her, Malcolm or no Malcolm, he would have broken its jaw. 

 "Why would I be unwell?"  She turned, and coolly assessed the man beside her.  Five days earlier they had rescued him and Commander Tucker from a prison ship.  Nothing had been the same since.  She wondered what the incarceration had done to his Human psyche that would cause him to revert to the rude, often angry, person he had been in the first months of their mission.

"T'Pol," he gritted his teeth as his eyes met hers.  "Humor me on this one. _Are-you-all_-_right_?"  He knew she'd done nothing to deserve the way he'd been treating her, in fact, just the opposite.  But he'd woken in the night, when he'd first been rescued, and discovered she'd fallen asleep on the couch in his quarters, clutching a Padd that was still marked with his blood. It had made him realize that he had been playing a game with someone who didn't know the rules. _Hell he didn't know the rules, how could he expect a Vulcan to?_

"No harm was done."  She could see he was upset, but they had more important things to deal with at the moment.

"Good," he smiled and moved toward her door.  "I'll wait outside while you change, I'll need your help in assessing the damage." They both knew that if one crewmember had been taken over by the Wisps, it was likely that many others had been as well.

Archer paced in front of her hatch, he was worried about his crew, but at least the emergency helped keep his mind off the mess he'd been making of his personal life. He and T'Pol had moved from grudging enemies, to co-workers, to almost friends, and then suddenly it had exploded in his face.   For him the damage was done the first time he admitted to himself that he saw her as a woman as well as an officer.  But even then he could have extracted himself gracefully with no harm done, if she hadn't let down her guard and allowed him see the part of her most Vulcans kept hidden from the universe. _Damn Menos, damn the Vulcan High Command, and damn him for letting himself believe, for even a moment, that they could be more than the roles, in life, they'd been assigned to play._

……………….

Hours later they had moved the crew back to the catwalk.  Like the last time they'd set up temporary living spaces there, Enterprise was under attack from an outside force.  Before it had been a class 5 storm, this time it was aliens that had taken over a third of the crew.  Archer hated the forced inaction.  These were his people and their safety was his responsibility.  To make it worse, T'Pol had volunteered to act as bait for one of the Wisps, in hope that her much more disciplined Vulcan mind would be able to fight it off at the same time she found out what it really wanted.

"T'Pol, wait."  Archer stopped her as she headed for the hatch to the main part of the ship.  "Be careful."

"That is my plan."  She turned and gripped his arm one last time. "I will be fine Jonathan," she whispered and bent quickly to leave before he could change his mind and stop her.

He stood frozen as the hatch closed behind her.  She'd done it again; she'd initiated physical contact.  In the two years he'd known her, he didn't think she'd ever been the one to reach for him. Now in a space of less than five minutes, she'd done it twice!  '_Keep her safe'_ His fists tightened into balls at his sides.  _'Please, let me get a chance to tell her I'm sorry for the last few days.'_

……………………..

Enterprise seemed big and empty.  With the warp engines offline, T'Pol could almost hear her footsteps echo in the passageways.  Suddenly a bright aqua light darted past, and circled her head, and then she froze.  The corridor appeared to pulse and throb as she felt the Wisp attempting to burrow into her mind.

*She was alone.  The corridor had expanded and the walls shimmered as if she were looking at them through water.  She could feel swirls of emotions nipping at the edges of her mind and battled them back by silently reciting from some of Surak's earliest teachings. 'Cast out fear.  To cast it out, you must first accept it; you must admit it is there.  Just past it, is the great leap to true power:  the move through the fear and helplessness, accepted at last, to what lies beyond.' As the simple mantra kept repeating in her head, she felt her control return.  The Wisp was still with her, but they were meeting on an even playing field.

As it burrowed through the outer layer of the Vulcan's mind, it grabbed onto the first image it found.

"T'Pol," her name echoed through her thoughts, and it appeared as if Jonathan Archer stood ten feet away.  "Come with me, T'Pol."  The image smiled and held out its hand.

"You are not who you appear to be."  She knew the Wisp had conjured him up, but did not understand why it chose him.

"Of course I am."  A door slid open behind him, one that hadn't been there a moment earlier.  "Step through this door and you will understand.  You will see the future you're trying so hard to forget."

"You speak nonsense." She stood rigidly in place when he stepped through the open door and turned slightly, giving her a tantalizing peek at what was offered on the other side. Then she began her battle in earnest, and this time she was fighting on two fronts.  One to keep in control of the portion of her mind that was still hers and the other to keep a door locked on an old memory.  It was something she had sealed off weeks ago and knew she must keep buried.  It was of an event that should not have happened.  She could remember a Jonathan of the future telling her that she must not remember!

"T'Pol," it smiled and cupped her cheek with Jonathan's left hand. "You've trusted me for a long time.  Trust me one more time."

"Do not touch me!" She wanted to turn and run, but it took all her concentration to keep from stepping through the door.  The Being was hacking away at her mental discipline. All thoughts of Surak's teachings had become jumbled. "You are only an image of the man I trust."  Even as her mind said the words, her body ached to look further into the room.  

"I am much more than that.  Why do you keep denying it?"

T'Pol could not move, if she did, she was sure she would step forward and all would be lost.  The Wisp was delving deeper in her mind, finding places she had carefully hidden from herself.  Memories of exploring the timeship that had been on Enterprise, and then waking up in the future, in Jonathan's bed, were peeking out from their hiding places.       

_Almost as a background buzz she could hear Dr. Phlox's voice calling to her as he stepped beside her in the corridor, but she could not acknowledge him.  She had to stay focused, or the false Jonathan would win._

_"Come, Love, let me help you through the door."  The Wisp masquerading as Archer caressed her face as it leaned in and kissed her.  When their lips touched, their minds fused, but unlike the Humans, she was able to retain a sense of self. She was T'Pol, she was the alien, and she was a new entity that was both Wisp and Vulcan. This allowed her to read its deadly intent, while keeping her trapped in the intoxication of the moment._

_Logic screamed at her that the kiss was only a hallucination, but it felt so real that tears of longing and anger filled her eyes.  Then from somewhere very far away she head HIS voice, she heard the real Jonathan's voice, coming clear and strong over Phlox's communicator.  It whispered safety and she clung to it, as it gave her strength to mentally push against the thing that was 'standing in front of her.'  _In the blink of an eye, the odd mental sensations cracked and broke apart, until she was free, a lone Vulcan in control of her thoughts and body, again. *

T'Pol gasped as Enterprise came into sharp focus around her. The Wisp that had been fighting for control of her mind bounced against the bulkhead then dispersed through it.  She felt light-headed and dizzy as the Doctor caught and steadied her on her feet.  The dream of moments ago began to fade, leaving only the knowledge that they were in eminent danger, the rest of it had been a trick by the Wisp and she would deal with the meaning of it later.

……………………..

It had taken them another hour to regain control of the ship, but by morning all the crewmembers that had been invaded had been given a through exam by Phlox.

"You wanted to see me Doctor?"  T'Pol hurried into Sickbay.  She had submitted to the exam he had required before he would certify her for duty after her encounter, but that had been late the night before.

"I found something very interesting on your neural exam."  Phlox tapped the computer in front of him and pulled up the Vulcan's brainwave patterns from her last two physicals.  "I believe that your battle with our alien friend has had a positive affect on your Pa'nar Syndrome.  There is no other explanation for the results of these tests."

"In what way?"  She felt the muscles in her abdomen tighten as she examined the data Phlox had accessed. 

"It would appear that you are in remission, at least for the moment.  There is a marker in your delta wave, but beyond that, there is no sign of the disease."  He turned and looked at the woman beside him.  "I must worn you, I have no way of knowing how long this will last.  It would be prudent to increase your check-up schedule for the next few weeks." 

"That would be the logical thing to do." She took a deep breath to steady her flow of thought, as questions crowded her mind. _'I must focus on one issue at a time.' _  "Am I still contagious?"

Phlox rose and looked her in the eyes. This was the part of his job he hated, giving bad news, even if this time it had been accompanied by good.  "I'm afraid so.  I waited to talk to you until I had researched my findings.  Even if you're never symptomatic again, you will always be a carrier, unless I can find a cure."

"Oh."  She nodded and turned quickly away.  Surak's mantra pounded in her thoughts.  Disappointment was an emotion like fear, all she needed to do was admit it was there, then move on through and get to the other side, then she would be in control of it.

"Sub-Commander?"  It was evident from the expression on Phlox's face that it was not the first time he had spoken to her.

"Yes," her chin rose as she regrouped. 

"I should remind you that Pa'nar Syndrome is unique to Vulcans."  He felt sympathy for her; she was cut off from her species as long as she was contagious.  It had to be a lonely existence, even for a Vulcan.  If she could find companionship among the Humans, and he had reason to believe that there was one who would have gladly given her whatever emotional support she would take, Phlox felt it his duty to reassure her.  "You needn't worry about anyone on Enterprise catching it, even if you would, say, come in mental contact with him, or her."

"I am well aware of that, Doctor."  She stiffened her spine and refused to read anything other than medical courtesy into his words, but for a moment her eyes flared before she could get them back under control. 

"I was sure you were." The Denobian had played a hunch and gotten an emotional response, from a very unemotional woman. 

"If that will be all, I must get back to my duties."  Her brow rose as she turned to leave.

"Do I have your permission to tell the Captain?"

"Pardon?"

"Captain Archer went to great lengths to assure that you remained on Enterprise, when the Vulcan medical delegation discovered your illness, he deserves to be told of your progress."  His words were accompanied by a huge Denobian smile. 

"Very well." The mention of Archer brought back vivid memories of her fight with the Wisp.  "Dr. Phlox, when the alien tried to move into your mind, what did you experience?" 

"It was painful, like something was trying to bore into my skull."  He didn't want to share his experience, but the shock of finding T'Pol frozen in place in the corridor, as she had fought the alien, had been only slightly less intense than seeing a tear run down her face.

"Was there only the pain?"

"No, as it tried to take over my higher brain functions, it used images from my past."  He had known a great number of Vulcans and treated them for many ailments, but never in his life had heard of one crying.  He felt he owed her the truth, even if it was unpleasant for him.  "It tried to tick me into thinking I was with my son.  He was calling to me, asking me to walk along the river behind our home.  He…it, kept telling me it wanted to talk to me.  My son and I used to take those walks all the time, but haven't done so for years.  He and I aren't on good terms."

"How did you drive it out?"  The images in her memory were foggy, mixed with fragments of dreams and something she did not understand.  Almost as if it was an action she had forgotten but was trying hard to bring to the surface.

"I didn't, it just went away."  He shrugged his shoulders unable to give her the answers she wanted.  "I guess it gave up, and went off to find an easier, human mind, to join."

Over the years Phlox had become adept at working with Vulcans.  He had discovered it was often what they didn't say that was the most important, and at the moment, T'Pol was saying nothing, only nodding as if to agree with his experience.  He had had similar responses from most of the crew that had been 'invaded.' It was obvious that something disturbing had happened to her.

"T'Pol, whatever you experienced had to be difficult, if you need someone to talk to, I am always here for you."   

"Thank you Doctor, but there is nothing to discuss." She stiffened her spine, as her mind spun and flashed with images of the odd things she had seen while joined with the alien.  Reaching deep for the discipline that was usually second nature, she nodded to bring the discussion to an end. "You will excuse me, I have reports to finish."  

………………….

Hoshi Sato sat alone in her quarters.  She was wasting time and knew it, but she didn't know how she was going to face Trip at dinner.  When the Wisp had appeared above her duty station on the bridge, it had changed everything.  The memories it had built on, to take control of her mind, had been of one of the happiest times in her life, and it hadn't included Commander Trip Tucker!

According to Dr. Phlox, the alien had only used her body for a few hours, but in that amount of time, her mind had relived the summer she had met and fallen in love with Sam.  She'd been on leave from Star Fleet, working on her PhD in linguistics at the University of New Mexico, where he was teaching graduate courses in quantum physics.  Though he was a few years older than she, it hadn't mattered.  From the moment they met at a friend's party, she'd believed he was the man she wanted to spend her life with.

Sam and Hoshi had been extremely busy that summer, but they'd spent every spare minute together.  They were young, in love, and all was right with the world, until one night when Sam had been working late, there was an accident.  They'd told Hoshi that he had died instantly; no one could have survived the power surge that had been triggered by summer lightening hitting his lab. The explosion it caused had been so intense; there'd been no body, which had made his loss all the harder to accept.

It had taken her two years to put the pieces back together again.  Then another year of just surviving, living only for the projects Star Fleet sent her way and the promise from Captain Archer that the stars were her destiny. Smiling to herself, it dawned on Hoshi why she'd trusted the Captain so completely the first time they'd met.  He had reminded her of Sam.  The two men had similar expressions and gestures, and shared the same build and coloring. Though the Captain was probably ten years older and lacked the easygoing quality that had first attracted her to the young physicist, both men had vision and drive that caused others to gravitate toward them.  

How was she going to tell Trip what had happened?  How was she going to tell him that suddenly she was mourning the loss of a man who had died six years ago?  All the old ragged feelings were back!  It made her want to beat her fists against the bulkhead, because she knew that it had all been a hallucination, but longed to go back and hide in its comfort.  The hardest part had been to wake up on the floor of her quarters and live again those first seconds of knowing that Sam was gone.  In the place where the Wisp had sent her mind, they had both been alive and living the life they had planned to live, instead of one living a life alone, because the other died in a freak accident.  For the first time she realized that she'd never really gotten over Sam. 

"Hoshi, come on darlin' let me in."  Trip knocked softly on her door.

She ran her hand through her hair as she reached for the knob_; there was no time like the_ _present to get this over with_.  "Come on in.  We need to talk."

"Don't be mad at me, Hosh, it wasn't my fault."

"What are you talking about?"  She gave her head a quick shake.  She'd fully expected him to be angry because she was late, and here he wanted to be forgiven.

"When the Wisp was usin' my body, it sent my mind…well lets just say I wasn't with you."  Trip hated to admit to her, that in his mind, he'd been with another woman.  It had taken so long for her to finally trust him and let him close to her, he hated to think of the damage that had been caused by those aliens messin' with their minds.

"Join the club."  She grunted and waved him toward her desk chair as she slouched onto the end of her bed.

"You mean you weren't with me?"  Part of him was choked with jealousy, but as he took a good look at her he realized she was exhausted.  Whatever had happened to her and where ever she had been, it hadn't been to a picnic or barbeque.

"No I wasn't," she whispered as she covered his hand with hers.  "I'm sorry, Trip."

"Aw, Darlin' whoever he was, he meant a lot to you didn't he?" 

"When he died, I didn't think, I'd care about anyone again."  She laughed softly as she remembered the intense attraction she'd felt for Trip, when Archer had introduced them a year before Enterprise left Earth.  "Then you came along. But now I seem to be back to square one."

"I know what you mean." Trip sighed.  "When I look at you my heart tells me you're everything I want in my life, but my head is sayin' I hardly know ya.  Ya think we can get it back, what we had the last few months, or did that thing messin' with out heads change us too much?"

Hoshi sat for a moment, quietly thinking.  Trip had seen her do it many times before; it was as if she was running an internal scan of all systems.  Whatever her answer was, it would be an honest one.

"I don't feel changed, not really.  What I'm feeling now, I've felt before."  The woman who was known for her ability with words searched carefully for the right ones, to keep from losing the man who was watching her carefully with worried blue eyes.  "It's more as if I've been displaced."

"I got an idea."  A dimple played along his cheek as he tried not to smile.  "We'll start from the beginnin'.  Ensign Sato," he held out his hand as if they were meeting for the first time. "I'm Commander Charles Tucker III, my friends call me Trip.  I'd be mighty pleased, if when not on duty, you'd call me that too."

"Only if you'll call me Hoshi."  As she played along with his game, she felt her heart break free of the coating of ice that had surrounded it, and needed badly to get some answers.  "Trip, kiss me."

"You sure 'bout that?"  There was nothing he wanted more, but there were still shadows of hurt in her eyes.

"Uhhemm," she cupped his cheeks to pull his face to hers.

His kiss was tender and gentle.  She could feel passion straining through his body, but he kept it light and easy as he held her close to him.  Pulling back slightly, she sighed as she looked up into blue eyes. Sam would always be part of her, but she could feel him moving out of her heart to make room for another.  For the first time in over 6 years, Hoshi felt a lightness of spirit and the sure knowledge of Sam's blessings for the future.

……………………………… 

**_Two weeks later ~_**

Jonathan Archer shivered in a prison cell on Narenda III.  Two days earlier he'd surrendered himself to the Klingons to keep them from destroying Enterprise.  It had started the week before, when the Earth vessel had intercepted a transport ship filled with starving and dying colonists.  Archer had promised to take them to safety, but before he could do that, a War Bird had appeared demanding their release.  Weapons fire had ensued, but Enterprise had gotten away.

He'd kept his promise and taken the colonists to a small uninhabited planet outside of Klingon Territory, but a day later, 5 War Birds had surrounded his ship and demanded the colonists, but had had to settle for Archer instead.   

Every time he closed his eyes he could see T'Pol's face, as he'd looked over his shoulder and saw her standing alone in the docking bay, watching him being taken away by two huge Klingons.  She had appeared fragile and alone, and it'd torn at his heart. Her eyes had simmered with a mix of emotions that caught him by surprise.

He damned himself for all the things he'd wanted to say to her since the Wisps had attempted to take over their ship.  _'Hell he'd wanted to say them for a long time!' _All those things he'd promised himself he'd say, when he'd been safe on the catwalk and she'd been out wandering the corridors trying to trap one of the aliens.  Now it was too late.  Odds were good that he'd never see her again.

When the Doctor had told him that her Pa'nar Syndrome was in remission, he'd thought they had all the time in the world.  On one of her many official trips to his Ready Room, he'd told her how happy he was for her, that she was doing so much better, but he'd left it at that.  What he'd really wanted to do was throw his arms around her and kiss her, his relief had been so great, but he'd backed off for fear of pushing her away. 

In the dark, in the cold Klingon cell, he remembered a dream he'd had the night he'd spent in Sickbay when Porthos had almost died.  In that dream she'd kissed him.  _He lay there, facing almost certain death and a smile played across his lips at the thoughts of kissing a Vulcan._  The universe had a sense of humor, after all!

His last waking thought was that Enterprise and his crews were what was important; he'd passed that message on with Phlox, when the doctor had been allowed to visit. He knew he could count on her to take care of his people, but damn, _it hurt to think she'd_ _never know how much he cared about her_.  Then his eyes closed, sleep overtook him, and he found himself back under the warm blue light in decontam, with T'Pol in his arms.

…………………

T'Pol had escaped to Archer's Ready Room moments earlier.  The strain of waiting was beginning to tell on the crew.  She needed to collect her thoughts and rebuild her mental shields. The emotion that was emanating from all the Humans was overpowering, _or that was what she told herself. _She knew the trial had begun and it did not look good for the Captain.  She had notified Vulcan and Earth as soon as he had been taken into custody, but there was very little they could do from so far away, except exert diplomatic pressure.  At least Enterprise had been allowed to follow the War Birds back to Narenda III and wait out the results of the hearing.

As she watched the stars, she could not help wondering what they looked like from the planet below.  She knew they fascinated Jonathan, as Enterprise cut a warp trail through the universe. _Would he find the same fascination in stars that appeared stationary? More importantly, was he able to see_ _them from his cell_? Illogically it soothed her to think of him being able to look up and see the same lights in the sky that she was looking at now.

"Phlox to Sub-Commander T'Pol."  The communicator on Archer's desk jumped to life.

"Yes, Doctor, what can I do for you?"  T'Pol moved to the desk chair, but did not take her eyes off the view port.

"I told you two hours ago to eat and get some rest.  I'm making it an order this time."  He hated to do it to her, but the crew was looking to her for guidance and she was the only one who would be able to keep Com. Tucker and Lt. Reed under control if things went badly.  "We both know that no matter what the outcome, Klingon ceremony will demand at least two days worth of hearings."

"So noted, Doctor."  Her first instinct was to try to over-rule him, but the logic of his suggestion won out.  "Phlox," the voice that came over his communicator was so unlike T'Pol's he froze in his seat.  "Was there a window in the Captain's cell?"

"Aaahh," he searched his memory, but his focus had been on Archer, he hadn't noticed if there was a window or not.  Hoshi was standing beside him in Sickbay, she had come to him because she was worried about the Vulcan who had neither eaten nor rested since the Captain had been taken away.  He looked to her for help with the odd question he was being asked.  It didn't matter if Archer had a window or not, he wanted to know what T'Pol needed to hear, and give it to her.  

Suddenly the slim communication's officer pinched him and shook her head in the affirmative.  _'Women, would he ever understand them? At least they understood each other, even if their species were as different as night and day._

"Aaahh, yes Sub-Commander I believe there was a window."  

"Thank you, Doctor."  The hushed whispered that echoed through Sick Bay made him shake his head and Hoshi pray all the harder for a quick return of the Captain.

……………………..

T'Pol kept her eyes on the dancing flame of her meditation candle. Tonight it did not guide her to deep focused concentration. Tonight, it only served as a reminder of the man she was trying not to think about. _'How many times had he sat across from her in this very room?'_   The ringing of her door chime saved her from attempting to answer her illogical question.

"Come in," she called out.  Her mind was playing tricks on her again, because she had fully expected to see Jonathan leaning against the doorframe instead of Lt. Reed standing rigidly at attention.  "Yes Lieutenant?"  Her stomach began to churn, there could only be one reason why the man was there, they must have had a message from the surface.

"Um, Sub-Commander, we were told to expect a communication from Narenda III in ten minutes."  He kept his eyes straight ahead and refused to look at the Vulcan.  Though he remembered none of his actions while the Wisp had been in control of his body, he'd heard about them and was acutely embarrassed. 

"Thank you, Lieutenant." She leaned forward and blew out her candle then rose in a fluid movement that was second nature.  "Have Ensign Sato put it through to my quarters."

…………………….

T'Pol stared at her view screen.  It was over, they had sentenced Jonathan to life in the mines of Rura Penthe.  It was an underground world of ice and snow, where few prisoners lived longer than six months.  If the environment and hard work did not kill them, a greedy, stronger inmate did.  She quickly sent off the automated messages she had preprogrammed for Vulcan and Earth, and then went to the bridge.  Enterprise was expected to leave orbit within the hour.

The struggle with Reed and Tucker turned out to be less than she had anticipated, but it still took all of her discipline and training to give the order to break orbit.  She stood with one hand gripping the armrest on the Captain's chair; her eyes glued to the distant planet, until Enterprise swung around and engaged warp engines.

"Ensign Sato, may I see you in Captain Archer's Ready Room for a moment?" Even as she spoke, T'Pol did not take her eyes off the front view screen, until there was nothing but stars warping by.

"Yes Ma'am."

As the door closed behind the two women, T'Pol reached for a Padd on the desk.  She had hoped for the best, but had prepared for the worst.  Now it was time to put her plan into action.

"I need a channel opened to these coordinates, one that the Klingons will not be able to detect."  She handed the younger woman the Padd, and blocked from her mind the fact that it was the same one Archer had carried when he had been captured, and almost sent to Canamar.  "Can you do that?"

"Yes, Ma'am."  Hoshi studied the location for the transmission and devised a plan to confuse the Klingon tracking satellites. "If we use a very narrow beam laser carrier, and I can tap directly into the warp drive for power, I can send it on such a convoluted route, that anyone listening might think they were hearing an echo from the Big Bang.  Don't worry Sub-Commander, no one will be able to track it back to us."

"Thank you."  T'Pol cleared her throat, when her words came out a hoarse whisper.  "Let me know when it is ready."

Twenty minutes later T'Pol was facing the hawk-like features of Kardok, aide to the Klingon ambassador to Vulcan, and the real power behind any negotiations between his planet and hers.  They cut through the pleasantries, and she quickly outlined her plan to get Archer off of Rura Penthe.  They both knew the going rate for the kind of venture she suggested, so haggling was cut to a minimum.

"Who is this Earther that he is so important to you, Sub-Commander?"  Kardok would be taking a big risk if he helped her, but he had learned long ago that risks were what made life profitable, both in honor and riches. 

"Captain Archer is important to my government."  T'Pol refused to be drawn into his game.

"If that were so Little Vulcan, I would be talking to Savol, not you."  He stared her down, his interest aroused.  He had worked with her in the past, and she was honorable, but he found it fascinating that she would be the one making the request on behalf of the Human.

"I am the representative of my government on this ship, as such I speak for Savol and the High Command." 

"So you say," he grunted at her.  "What is in if for me?"

"We have discussed the price."  Her brow arched as they bargained.  "How much more do you require."

"If I were dealing with the High Command, that amount would have been sufficient, but since that is not the case…" He shrugged and grinned at her, showing rough sharp teeth. "You will pay the credits we have discussed, and a bit more.  This is a personal service, so I require something personal in return."

She stared at him, refusing to be the one to speak first.  Klingons respected strength in bargaining as well as fighting. He had called her bluff, now she had to silently wait him out, or it would weaken her position.

He sat back and watched her, but she gave nothing away, this was the experienced diplomat he had dealt with in the past. "I require from you a promise, nothing more.  Just a promise, that if someday I come to you in need of help, you will provide it, no matter what it is."  _'The Little Vulcan played the game well,' he thought as he watched something flicker in her eyes, _but as quickly as it appeared it was gone, to be replaced with stoic, expressionless, features that were the hallmark of her species.

"Done."  She nodded.  "The credits will be transferred to your account within the hour."

"When they arrive I'll send the codes needed for the contacts.  It was nice doing business with you Sub-Commander." He had asked for an open ended Blood Oath, and they both knew it.  _Now he knew just how important the Human male was to her. A pity such a fine specimen of a female would choose to align herself with the inferior Earthers._

…………………………

Two days later, at 2000 hours, a meeting took place in Captain Archer's quarters.  T'Pol looked around at Ensigns Sato and Mayweather, Commander Tucker and Lt. Reed, they were sitting on the couch and sprawled on the floor, leaving the desk chair for her.  They had the Padds she had just handed out, which contained information on the planned rescue, and details on the part each person would play.

"It is of the utmost importance that whatever is discussed in the room be kept between the five of us." Her fingers danced over the controls of Archer's computer, and brought up a rough photo of the snow-covered surface of Rura Penthe.  "This is where the Captain is being held.  Since our governments are officially not involved, I need to reiterate the importance of complete secrecy regarding this mission."

"Everyone is gonna know about it when we get him back."  Mayweather didn't understand why they had to sneak around.  It bothered him that they were having to meet in the only place large enough to accommodate them and guarantee secrecy.  It didn't seem right to be in Archer's quarters without his knowledge.

"Yes they will, but neither Earth nor Vulcan will make inquires as to how he returned, at least not publicly." From the moment she walked in the door, she could smell Jonathan's scent and knew that she missed his presence. She was also reminded of the vision the Wisp had created in her mind, so she erected a barricade to keep any reminders of him out.  Better to have nothing, than to have the bad overshadowing the good.

"Lets just get on to the plannin'," Trip cut in.  "We all know to keep our mouths shut.  None of us want this to gettin' back to the Klingons.  Hell, with some luck they won't know he's gone."

"I would not count on that Commander, but that would be ideal."  T'Pol nodded, then turned toward the helmsman, "Ensign Mayweather, you have the coordinates for the rendezvous.  If we are on schedule, we will make contact with the supply ship, for the mines, at 1400 tomorrow.  It is your job to have us their at the appointed time, and keep us hidden until Captain Archer is back aboard."

"Ensign Sato and Lt. Reed you will coordinate sensors and communications."  She stood and walked around the bed to look out at the stars, as they flew past the view port.  "Look for anything out of the ordinary, and report it to me.  We must be prepared to abort the mission, if there is any chance Enterprise is at risk.  The final decision lies with me, is that clear?"  She looked around at each of them to be sure they understood that she would brook no interference if things went badly tomorrow.

"With all due respect, Ma'am."  Reed stood to argue.  "The Captain has risked his life for each and every one of us, we would do the same."

"Lieutenant, Captain Archer's last order was to keep Enterprise safe."  It took all her effort to keep her voice from breaking.  "He was not just talking about the ship.  We will honor him by obeying that order."

"Yes Ma'am."  She was right and he knew it, but it went against his grain.

"Commander Tucker, I'll need you in engineering.  If we get into trouble, you will have to be the one to get us out of it, because there will be no weapons fire, tomorrow. If that were to happen, not only would Enterprise be lost, but it could precipitate a war between Earth and The Klingon Empire."  She leaned back against the view port and stared at them across the room.  "I've mapped out an escape route.  It is on your Padds.  Enterprise can do warp 4.5 until we reach the Koli Nebula, but it would be unwise to negotiate the Nebula at anything greater than warp 3.  What we lose in speed, we will make up for in stealth.  It will blind all sensors, and will be a good place to hide, or lose anyone who may have followed." 

…………………..

Two hours later T'Pol walked quietly through the corridors.  If anyone had seen her they probably thought she was going to the Mess Hall for tea, enough people knew she often did that at night.  What they did not know was that it was a habit she had stopped, the night the Captain was removed from the ship, though she had taken to wandering the halls, too restless to sleep.  Tonight she had a specific destination in mind.  She stopped on deck B and rang a door chime.

"I was expecting you, Sub-Commander."  Lt. Reed opened his door and let the Vulcan slip in.  She had left a gaping hole in her rescue plan.  "Someone needs to go in on that supply ship and get the Captain out." He and Trip had talked about it after the meeting.  Each man wanted to be the one to go, but both were afraid that T'Pol planned on doing it herself.

"That is correct, Lieutenant.  I will not order you to do so, and no one will know if you choose not to, that is why I asked you in private."  Given his background, he was the best possible candidate for the job, but part of her hoped he refused. _Then she could be the one to go._  It was not logical, the strong need she felt to be the one to sneak into the mines at Rura Penthe, but it was soothing.

"Like bloody hell!" He was horrified that she thought he might turn her down.  Archer had almost died saving his life when Enterprise had gotten caught in a minefield and one of the mines had attached itself to the hull. "Count me in!"

"You realize that if anything goes wrong Enterprise, Earth and Vulcan will deny any involvement in the rescue."  She needed to make it very clear to him what he was getting into.

"All the more reason why you should send me.  As far as the Klingons are concerned I'm a nobody, just a hotheaded Human who took it upon himself to try and rescue his Captain."  He'd always admired her as part of the Command Team, but never more than now when he saw how much the last few weeks were costing her.  She was a Vulcan in command of an Earth vessel, and trying very had to run it as if its Human Captain were still aboard.

She handed him an additional Padd, which contained detailed maps of the interior of the mines. "I would advise you to commit these to memory."  She turned to leave, then thought better of it.  "Lt. Reed, Captain Archer once told me he did not recruit his Tactical Officer to sit on his….ah…backside…when he was threatened.  I see that he was very correct in doing so."

"Thank you Sub-Commander," he couldn't help grinning at the serious expression on her face.  "But are you sure the Captain used the work 'backside'?"

"Are you questioning my memory?"  Her brow rose into her bangs.

"No, Ma'am."  His smile turned into a chuckle.  He'd never realized she had a sense of humor, before.

"Good."  As she reached for the door, she turned and looked over her shoulder.  "By the way, please try not to get caught by the Klingons, it would reflect very badly on my abilities as an acting captain, if they thought I could not keep my Human crew under control."

"I'll do my very best, Sub-Commander."  It took an effort to not laugh until she was out the door.  _He'd joked with a Vulcan, now he knew anything was possible!_

……………………

Enterprise breathed a collective sigh of relief.  Her Captain was back, though only a handful of people knew what really happened, few if any other than the alpha shift bridge crew knew that Reed had been absent from the ship for over three hours.  At the moment they were hiding in the Koli Nebula.  It appeared as if the escape had gone off without a hitch, but the plan had been to let the Nebula cover their trail for the next week and they were sticking to the plan.

Archer had been taken directly to Sickbay.  Phlox gave him Sleepez, a natural mix of herbs that kept the human body in a resting healing sleep until the reversal was administered.  The Captain was able to sleep through the long physical exam and repair to cuts, bruises and three broken ribs, as well as an extended time in decontam.

"Doctor, how is he doing?"  T'Pol slipped quietly through the curtain that separated Jonathan from the rest of Sickbay.

"Fine, just fine, but what are you doing up so late?"  It was three in the morning; Phlox had pulled medical rank, and ordered her out of Sickbay and to bed, hours ago.

"As First Officer, it is my duty to check on the Captain."  The quilted tunic and pants she wore, with her hands resting loosely behind her back, made her look young and unsure, very unlike the First Officer who had faced down the Klingon Empire to get her Captain back.

"If you'd like, you may remain."  He realized the futility of arguing.  Short of having her physically taken to her quarters and locked in, he doubted he'd get her out of Sickbay until she was ready to leave.  "In fact you can help, I'm going to wake up the Captain.  He needs some nourishment before he sleeps again."  As he spoke, he touched a hypospray to Archer's neck.

"Where am I?"  Green eyes opened and looked around, sure he was dreaming.  T'Pol was standing beside him, looking worried. _'He must still be on Rura Penthe, having another dream.  Kolos had said he called to her in his sleep more than once.  The old Klingon had chuckled at the thought of the Human murmuring a Vulcan female's name as he slept.'_

"Captain?"  Dr. Phlox spoke until he got his attention.  "Give yourself a few minutes, it takes that long for the reversal agent to clear all of the Sleepez from your system."

"I'm really back."  Archer sighed as his memory returned completely.

"How are you feeling?"  The Doctor watched his monitors as he spoke.  They were green across the board.

"Hungry, and relieved."  His eyes strayed to T'Pol, but she hadn't said a word since he woke up, all she did was watch him from behind the doctor's shoulder.

"Ah yes, I imagine you are." Phlox smiled at the Captain and then the Vulcan who hadn't moved since the sleeping man had woken.  "Sub-Commander, would you see that he drinks that broth."  He pointed to a mug that was on the table beside Archer's bed. "It contains all the nourishment he needs at the moment, and should make him feel much better. I would appreciate the help, I have a long day tomorrow."

"Of course, Doctor."  She turned and reached for the mug, as the covers rustled on the bed beside her.  When she turned back, Jonathan Archer was sitting with his back propped against the wall, wearing nothing but a week's growth of beard, and a blanket across his hips and legs.

Phlox watched silently from the door while the sick man drank deeply from the mug and T'Pol took a seat beside his bed, then the Doctor quietly slipped out of Sickbay.  The Captain and the Vulcan both needed sleep, but it was his medical opinion that neither of them would be able to do so, until they had assured themselves of the other's safety.

T'Pol could not take her eyes off the man beside her.  Vulcan's did not have facial hair or excessive body hair like Humans.  She had seen him in the gym, with torn and skimpy exercise clothes, but she had never thought what he must look like with no shirt on.  _'Then why did he look so familiar?'_ Why did her hand know the contour of his chest and how the springy hairs that grew there would tickly against her skin?  _It was like a dream or a memory._

"You took a risk getting me back."  He looked at her and never wanted to stop.  She had been staring at him openly, but he didn't care.

"It was a calculated one."  Her voice was breathy.  "I would not have let any harm come to Enterprise."

"I know."  He put his empty mug down, and reached for her wrists.  "Come here, sit beside me."  He tugged gently as she stood and sat on the bed facing him.

"Thank you."  He whispered as he breathed in her scent.  _'God he had missed her!'_

"For what?"  She could almost see the memory that was eluding her, but the harder she tried, the more she heard his voice telling her she must not remember.

"For my life."  He smiled and slipped his hands to her shoulders.  "For being there for me when I needed you most, and for keeping my ship and my crew safe."

"It was the only logical thing to do."  As she spoke her hand moved, and her finger dragged along his cheek.  His beard was rough and scratchy, but somehow she had known it would be. 

"T'Pol," he whispered her name as he put his arms around her and pulled her close.  She may call it logic, but her eyes told him it was much more than that, she just wasn't ready to see it yet.  He was reminded of a quote from Voltaire. '_Love is of all passions the strongest, for it attacks simultaneously the head, the heart, and the senses.'_   No wonder they were both so confused, if he was right, they were under attack on three fronts.

She gasped as she felt the warm contact of skin against her cheek; the soft hairs on his chest tickled her ear and face, while his scent surrounded her.  Her arms moved to awkwardly encircle him.  For just a moment, she would surrender herself to the memory, or dream, or Wisp induced trance, whatever the odd state of mind she found herself in was called.  She didn't know what it was, and it did not matter, all that was important, was that Jonathan was back.  She let her eyes flutter closed and her breathing match his.  Soon they were both fast asleep.  '_We've done this before,' a thought echoed through their minds._  Neither knew who originated it, since it was a shared thought, and for the moment that was all that was important. 

**_To Be Continued_**

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**_Reviews and comments greatly appreciated!_**__


	10. Setting Up Camp On The River Denial

Reference: The Voltaire quote that Jonathan refers to, can be found in the second to the last paragraph in ch. 9.  It is as follows: 'Love is of all passions the strongest, for it attacks simultaneously the head, the heart, and the senses.'

Ch 10 Setting Up Camp On The River Denial

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A contented smile spread across Jonathan Archer's face.  He was having a wonderful dream.  He was back on Enterprise and T'Pol filled his arms and his mind.  This was the best dream he'd had since the Klingons had taken him into custody.  It was unbelievable, but he could feel the gentle touch of her relaxed thoughts as she slept. They spoke to him of things he had only imagined in the past, and others that he had only hoped for. To further pull him from reality, it felt as if her hair brushed against his cheek, and the scent of lemon and spice that he always associated with her, filled his nostrils.

The sensible part of his sleep drugged mind knew that soon guards would wake him with rough shouts, and another day of work and cold in the mines of Rura Penthe would begin; but for the moment he lay surrounded by sensations, floating in that foggy time between sleep and awake.

_"Mornin' Doc."  Trip Tucker came whistling into Sickbay._  The engineer's voice floated through the room.

Archer's eyes flew open.  He really _was_ back on Enterprise.  It hadn't been a dream he realized, as he listened to his friend chatting with the Doctor.  Malcolm really had snuck into the mines, to help him escape out from under the watchful eye of the Klingon Empire.  It had been a risky plan that had been formulated by the woman who had fallen asleep with her head tucked under his chin. From the ruckus Trip was raising on the other side of the privacy drapes, Jonathan figured they had about three minutes before the Engineer came bounding in.

"T'Pol," her name formed on his lips and slipped through his mind. He hated to disturb her sleep, but he knew she wouldn't want them to be discovered curled together like a pretzel on his bed, even if they were _almost_ sitting against the bulkhead.  "Wake up." He whispered in her ear, and gave in to the urge to caress her cheek, when he remembered how she'd run her finger over his still unshaven beard, hours earlier.

As he looked down, clear green eyes opened.  In less than a second he saw them fill with pleasure, then confusion, and finally shock. T'Pol blinked and all emotion was shuttered behind a blank stare. Her body stiffened and pulled away from his, while _her silent protest echoed through his mind and then it was gone_. The warm sensation of her mental presence was replaced by cool emptiness.  He was alone, where a moment ago…. a moment ago, what?  He didn't understand what had happened, but he knew he had to battle back a wave of loneliness that swept across him, where before he had been filled with a feeling of completeness he'd never experienced.  But time was running out, he was going to have to save his questions for later.

"Shhhh…" He placed a finger over her lips before she could speak.  Then nodded his head in the direction of the argument between Trip and Phlox, which was taking place on the other side of the curtain that separated them from the rest of Sickbay.  It was evident the Doctor was trying to give them privacy, but was losing the battle with the engineer.  

T'Pol looked around and quickly assessed the situation.  She realized that she couldn't get past the men, and out of Sickbay.  Unless something was done quickly, she and Jonathan were going to get caught in a compromising situation.  For once her ironclad mind refused to move beyond the here and now to formulate a plan to play down the intimacy of their position. 

Archer tapped her on the shoulder then pointed toward the chair beside them.  She moved quickly and quietly off the bed.  As he slid deeper beneath the covers, his arm snaked out and pushed her head down beside him, and a conspiratorial grin flashed across his features, at her expression of doubt. With luck it would appear as if she had fallen asleep with her head leaning against his bed, while keeping him company.

Seconds later Commander Tucker and Dr. Phlox walked through the curtains and found what appeared to be the Captain and the First Officer sound asleep.  Archer flat on his back in bed, and T'Pol slumped in a chair with her head on her hands, using the edge of the bed for support.

"She been in here all night?"  Trip whispered as he and Phlox moved quietly out of the sleeping area, not wanting to wake the two _sleeping_ people.  He didn't understand how anyone could've slept in that position, but then T'Pol had been awake for days.  He supposed even Vulcans gave out sooner or later.

"She came in at about 0300, just as I was waking Captain Archer, but when I checked on him later, that chair was empty."  Phlox shrugged as he neatly skirted the truth.  _When he'd realized that an hour had passed, and she still hadn't left, he'd gone back into the Captain's bay to send T'Pol to her quarters. _ Her lack of rest had begun to show and he'd been worried about her. When he'd found them asleep, slumped in Archers bed, holding tightly to one another, he'd let the peace and contentment on their faces overrule his better judgment.

"She was mighty worried about the Cap'n."  Trip looked over his shoulder at the closed drapes then at Phlox, hoping for more information.  _Something didn't feel right_.

"We all were. Now if you'll excuse me, Commander I have a patient to see to."  The Doctor smiled and moved behind the curtain.  When he was sure Tucker had left Sickbay, he whispered, "Captain, Sub-Commander, the coast is clear."  As two pairs of green eyes opened, he smiled and shook his head.

"Phlox, we appreciate your discretion."  Archer sat up and reached for T'Pol's wrist, to stop her, as she inched away from the bed, and toward the curtain.  "Not so fast, Sub-Commander."  His eyes bore into hers.  "If you'll excuse us, Doctor?"

"Captain, you have five minutes."  The Denobulan warned, but from the look of determination on their faces, he doubted anything would get settled in that amount of time.

"Are you going to tell me what that was?"  Jonathan watched T'Pol carefully.  Her cheeks had darkened, in what he thought of as a green-blooded version of a blush, though she appeared cool, calm, and collected in every other way.

"I must have been more tired than I had anticipated."  She stood straight with her hands neatly behind her back; thankful he was not touching her anymore.  "I apologize for falling asleep in such an unusual and inappropriate position."  Her brow rose to underscore her disapproval.

"Damnit all, that's not what I'm talking about, and you know it."  His frustration mounted as she attempted to stare him down.  "I could _feel_ your thoughts."

"That is impossible, you must have been dreaming."  She gave him the same skeptical look she did when he talked about time travel.  "Now if you will excuse me, I have duties to perform."

"T'Pol, wait, come back here."  It wasn't until his feet hit the deck that Jonathan remembered he wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing.  "Come back here!"   But he found himself shouting at swaying curtains.  The only hint that she'd been there was the slight scent of lemon and spice that drifted through the air.  "Damnit, that's an order, Sub-Commander!" 

Phlox heard the Captain's shouts from his office, and came around the corner in time to see T'Pol's back, as she charged out of Sickbay.  It caught him by surprise when she stopped and almost stumbled at the sound of Archer's voice. Her right hand shot out to grip the wall for momentary support, before she righted herself and slipped silently out.

"Too late, Captain, she's gone."  Both men knew that she had heard him, but neither knew what to do about it, nor were they about to acknowledge it to the other.

"Where the hell did you put my pants?" Archer sat on the edge of the bed with a sheet across his lap, long muscular legs reached to the floor and his body coiled to spring.

"I sincerely hope someone burned them." The Doctor grimaced in disgust. "They smelled like you'd been bedded down with the targs."

"I've got to get out of here."  Jonathan stood and grabbed for the corner of the sheet.

"Not so fast. I haven't released you from Sickbay yet?"  Dr. Phlox glared at the expanse of exposed hairy flesh.  "Now get back in that bed."

"But…"

"Do not argue with me, Captain.  I am aware of Star Fleet's regulation that allows a doctor to outrank even an admiral, when the occasion arises."  The Doctor paced beside the bed, not sure how to broach the topic on his mind.

"I'm fine and you know it."  Archer glared, but sat down and leaned against the bulkhead, a sheet thrown hastily across his middle, his only concession to modesty.  "How soon are you going to release me?"

"All in good time."  Phlox rocked on the balls of his feet as he checked the monitors over his patient's bed, and decided the situation called for the direct approach.  "Captain, you do remember that T'Pol is Vulcan?"

"It's something that's rather hard to forget."  Jonathan gritted his teeth, as he glared at the man who watched him with unwavering eyes.

"Good, because no matter what happens, she's never going to react exactly as you expect.  She isn't a Human female and won't respond like one."  The Doctor's words hung heavily between them.

"I know," Archer sighed as he gave into the confused and doubt that had begun when T'Pol had marched out of Sickbay.  "I've been telling myself that for a long time now."

"It's something worth remembering. I'd hate to see either of you get hurt."  Phlox smiled as he handed Archer the bundle of clothes Commander Tucker had brought for him on his visit. "You're free to go, but I'm restricting you to light duty for the next twenty-four hours."  He turned to leave then thought better of it.  He hadn't been completely fair to the man.  "She was very worried when you were taken away.  She hid it well, but it was evident all the same."

"What did she?…Never mind." Archer shook his head. As much as he wanted to know how it had been for her, it was important that he hear it from her, or not at all.

"Just be careful, Captain, if you're successful in waking the sleeping emotions of a Vulcan, be very sure you understand the consequences."  The Denobian nodded as he watched the younger man absorb his words, then turned and left him alone with his thoughts.

………………… 

T'Pol took deep even breaths trying to find her center, and calm the raging sea of turmoil that kept splintering her thoughts.  Flashes of memory mixed with dreams wove in and out of her mind. _What had happened?  Had she really let down her guard, or had it been another dream?_  She was certain, that when she had slept, her mental shields had fallen, but had her mind rested against Jonathan's?  To have it happen at all was unthinkable; to have it happen with a Human was unbelievable.

As she stared into the leaping flames of her meditation candle, she carefully dissected what had happened.  She had fallen asleep leaning against Jonathan… Captain Archer, she amended. It was a fact she could not dispute, and it had happened twice before. Again, something that was indisputable.  Once had been after they had apprehended Menos, and then again the night before she faced the hearing of Vulcan physicians when her Pa'nar Syndrome had been discovered.

She looked carefully for any commonality in the occurrences, and could only come up with two. Each times, she had gone without meditation and sleep for a number of days. The logical answer was to maintain a normal Vulcan sleep regimen, and adhere strictly to her meditation schedule.  That should assure that she would never put herself in a vulnerable position again.

But that still left the matter of what had transpired between them upon waking that morning.  _'It was the dreams,' she nodded to herself, 'like the dreams that had begun when I had fought the Wisp for control of my mind.'_  What little she could remember of them centered on Jonathan…Captain Archer, she corrected. _'This was just another one of them.'_

Sitting back, she looked at the situation logically.  Archer was Human; therefore he lacked the mental powers to have touched her mind.  Therefore, it was an impossibility.  Even when they had meditated together, she had felt his presence in a physical way, because his hands had been resting on hers, and their knees had been touching, but that was all.  It had been the strength of her trust in him that had helped her break through what was left of the memory lock from P'Jem, and nothing more.  After all, the Vulcan Science Directorate stated that a Human's psyche was immature and hardly able to control his own emotions, let alone breach a disciplined mind such as hers.

Her mental shields had been down, due to exhaustion, so it _was_ possible she had picked up his presence as she slept.  That in turn gave rise to another of the odd dreams.  But it had simply been the physical closeness of another person on waking, which had made Jonathan think he had felt her thoughts. Nothing more than that had happened!  _Everything was clear and simple, when approached with Vulcan logic. It was unfortunate the Humans chose not to embrace it._

………………….

Enterprise stayed at tactical alert until they'd put a significant cushion between them and the Klingon Empire.  Though it was no joking matter, a number of the crew had begun calling it the Neutral Zone. Hoshi was kept busy monitoring all frequencies for anything out of the ordinary and Malcolm drove his team nearly crazy with upgrades to the tracking systems. He'd hoped to find a way to detect cloaked ships before they were within striking distance, but no matter how many simulations he ran, nothing proved successful.

The crew's quiet elation was a bit unnerving.  Everyone was happy to have the Captain back, but most weren't sure how it had happened.  They all seemed to be waiting for the other shoe to drop, but as time passed, with no sign of the Klingons, and even Lt. Reed went back to working his normal eight-hour shift, everyone breathed a sign of relief

From her station at communications, Hoshi shook her head in sorrow as she watched T'Pol withdraw more each day, until she was as stiff and unfriendly as she'd been when she'd first joined the crew.  The young Ensign's eyes strayed to the captain's chair where Archer sat in silent contemplation.  Since his rescue from Rura Penthe, he'd become terse and broody.  She wished she could chalk both their reactions up to stress caused by the Captain's capture. That was something that would fade over time, but she was afraid that it was something much more than that; something personal and private that had happened between the two officers.  If that were the case, Hoshi was afraid it was never going to go away. 

"Captain, you've got a message from Admiral Forrest."  Sato looked up from her board with a smile on her face.  It looked like some things were back to normal. Star Fleet had been keeping communications with them to a minimum, since T'Pol had put them under a blackout, after leaving Narenda III.

"I'll take it in my office."  He snapped.  "The bridge is yours Sub-Commander."

………………..

While Archer waited for the signal to be routed through, he tried to shake the feeling of loss that had been growing since the morning T'Pol has walked out on him in Sickbay.  As the days had passed, he realized his mind must've been playing tricks on him that morning.  He couldn't have felt T'Pol in his head and in his thoughts the way he'd believed he had on waking. He'd wanted to tell her that on more than one occasion, but she'd closed him out completely.  They'd become friends over the last eighteen months and she was carefully and concisely closing every door they'd worked so hard to open, and it made no sense. "Damnit," he whispered as he threw down the stylus to his hand computer.  "We'd become more than friends."

"Sorry, Captain, I had to reboot the signal." Ensign Sato chirped over the COM unit.  "I've got Admiral Forrest back for you."

"Thanks, Hoshi, put him through."  The Captain pulled his thoughts back to business where they belonged.

"Jonathan, you're looking much better than the last time we spoke."  Forrest smiled, he'd chosen the right person for the job, Archer seemed to have more lives than a cat.

"I'm feeling much better."  Jonathan forced a smile on his face.  "Is this a social call, or do you have news for me."

"A bit of both."  Forrest cut to the heart of the matter.  "We haven't heard anything from the Klingons, but according to Soval, we won't.  He believes it's a matter of honor for them, and they'll never publicly admit you escaped."

"So that leaves us where?"  Archer frowned.  He'd hoped that it would never be noticed that he was missing, but he doubted they were that careless.  The idea of having to spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder didn't appeal to him.

"Earth is playing a waiting game, as if you're still a prisoner."

"Will the Vulcans go along with it?" Archer knew that both Earth and Vulcan had been applying pressure through diplomatic channels.

"Soval had little choice."  Forrest laughed when he remembered his confrontation with the elderly Vulcan ambassador.  "It was obvious that Sub-Commander T'Pol had engineered the escape using contacts she'd made when she worked for him.  That's one hell of a women you've got there, Jonathan."

"Yeah…." He nodded; as a flash of possessiveness gripped him, only to be followed by the sure knowledge that one did not possess a Vulcan, one joined with them on life's journey, but there was no ownership involved.  _It wasn't until much later that he wondered how he'd come by that knowledge._

"On to the good news."  The older man's face lit up the monitor, oblivious to the younger's response.  "The telescopes on Mir V have picked up something very interesting.  One of the planets in the Omicron system has shifted its orbit."

"That's about 30 light years behind us."  Archer quickly did the calculations and estimated the amount of time it would take to get there.

"True," Forrest grinned.  "But it's 30 light years away from Klingon space."

"That in itself makes the trip worthwhile."  Jonathan had been worried that he'd have to give up Enterprise and return to Earth, if he were to stay safe, without endangering his ship.  It appeared that it wasn't a worry shared by Star Fleet. 

"I thought you'd appreciate that aspect of the assignment."  The Admiral's eyes lit with anticipation, and a bit of envy at what he could only experience as a spectator, from a desk in San Francisco.  "I'm having the full details sent to your science station.  It should be a real show.  If the planet follows the computer-projected path, it'll be pulled between two gas giants.  The scientists in the observatory on the space station are predicting a huge fire works display, as the core is superheated, causing volcanoes to erupt over most of the planet's surface."

"We'll do our best to see that you're entertained."  His mood lifted at the thought of the new assignment.  This is what he'd come out here to do, explore and make friends with other races, not constantly defend his right to be there and fight with almost everyone who came along.

"I'll be looking forward to your report."  Admiral Forrest turned serious when he thought about the tightrope Archer was walking.  "Jonathan, be careful."

Enterprise hummed with life.  The new assignment meant they were getting back to work! Everyone looked forward to the project, because it meant they weren't hiding and trying to look busy, anymore.  They were busy.

The ship made a quick stop along the way to allow Ensign Mayweather shore leave on his family's freighter the Horizon.  His father had recently died and this was the first time the two ships were close enough to allow any direct communication.  

…………………………

Trip had worked on and off all day, applying teasing pressure to T'Pol.  It was one of his favorite pastimes, but this time it had a purpose beyond his own amusement.  Tonight was the first Movie Night they'd had since before the Captain had handed himself over to the Klingons. He'd been trying to lighten her mood, and get her back into the swing of life on Enterprise. The Commander would be the first one to admit his motives weren't completely altruistic.  Dinner in the Captain's Mess had become stilted and uncomfortable, to the point that he was losing his appetite.  Loyalty to Jonathan kept him going back night after night, but it was beginning to wear on their friendship and his nerves. 

Each night T'Pol forced herself to eat only enough to be considered polite.  Then she'd leave, using work as an excuse. Trip figured she must have realigned and recalibrated every sensor at the science station at least three times. All the while Jon pushed food around his plate, and then muttered under his breath, after she left. The one time he'd asked his friend about it, Jonathan had bitten his head off, and then dismissed him. Something was very wrong between those two and it didn't bode well for the ship.

Dramatic reading of the book, instead of viewing the movie classic _Frankenstein_, Trip could picture that one, especially with a Vulcan evolved.  It would have all the appeal of watching paint dry! "Book club my ass."  He muttered as he left the bridge in exasperation. "That's the last time I try to help _her_.  What the hell does Jon see in her anyway?"  His rhetorical question was addressed to the closed lift doors, as he was whisked to the engineering level.  He'd done his best to try and make things easier on them, but was damned if he was going to get caught in the middle of whatever was going on.  The Vulcan was being as stubborn as any Vulcan he'd ever met, and Jonathan was approaching the coming Movie Night with a forced gusto that made him think of Joan Of Arc and large fires.    

Just before the turbo lift doors slammed shut, Hoshi blew Trip a kiss and shrugged.  Her big brown eyes shined with sympathy at his attempt to help, but it was obvious that he was getting nowhere. Then she heard the conversation across the bridge, and her mouth dropped open.

Had the Captain really said what she thought he had?  She looked up to see if anyone else had heard what Archer had asked T'Pol, but everyone was working studiously at their stations. _'No, her ears must've been playing tricks on her._' She shook her head again, to bring herself back to reality. '_He wouldn't ask a Vulcan out on a date, especially so publicly!'_ But the Captain's quiet deep voice kept ringing in her ears. '_Let's make a night of it. Dinner in the Captain's Mess at 1800, movie at 1930, you'll be my date.'_ Finally Hoshi looked cautiously at the two officers who were talking beside the star maps.  Captain Archer's back was to her, but she could see T'Pol clearly, and the expression of frozen shock on her face was unmistakable.  But it was her eyes that gave away her real thoughts.  For just a second the Communication's Officer saw something that looked very much like longing, followed by fear, in their deep green depth, then it was hidden behind a cool calm that could mean anything.

_'Yup, the Captain had pulled it off!' Hoshi grinned to herself_.  As she watched, T'Pol was nodding her head in agreement with a mesmerized look on her face_. _ Too bad Trip had missed the repercussions of what he'd started!  Or maybe it was just as well, knowing her boyfriend considered it his patriotic duty to needle their resident Vulcan, every chance he got. If he'd said something that had caused T'Pol to change her mind, Archer would've probably given him the special assignment of scrubbing down the outer hull, until they returned to Earth.

………………………….

Jonathan paced his quarters and damned his big mouth.  It'd been a long time since he'd joined Trip in the Chief Engineer's favorite game of 'lets bait the Vulcan.' He'd known that T'Pol had been avoiding him ever since his return from Rura Penthe, but that wasn't any excuse. _Maybe the Klingons were right?  Maybe he was impulsive, but Damnit, he wanted to spend time with her and the movie was a good excuse!_ When the chance had fallen in his lap, he'd taken it. The more he thought about it, the more he believed she hadn't been totally against the idea, or she'd have turned him down flat, even in front of the entire bridge crew.  Vulcans were known for their tactless honesty, and there were times he thought his First Officer majored in it! 

"Hmm" he whispered. "What's going on inside that head of yours, T'Pol?" Archer suddenly remembered the evening they'd spent at the monastery of P'Jem.  They'd shared a blanket to keep the cold out.  He couldn't remember what they'd talked about, but he did remember her response.  It had been very female and familiar.  She'd become upset by something he'd said and suddenly, she'd turned her back on him and whipped the blanket away, until it covered only her.  At first he hadn't believed what he'd seen:  _a_ _Vulcan in a huff_.  Now he realized it was a reaction he should have paid more attention to. Phlox had been right when he said she wasn't like Human females, but there were times she acted like one.

This time things were a lot worse than a _'huff.'_ He'd crossed a line with her, one he hadn't realized existed, and she'd shut him out.  When dealing with women of his own species, he was experienced enough to usually figure out what his supposed transgression was, but Vulcans were a different thing all together.  Even if he could figure out what he'd done to upset her, he doubted soft music and gentle words would get things back where they had been.

Suddenly Jonathan stopped pacing.  It wasn't only because T'Pol was Vulcan, that the situation was so difficult, it was because it had never mattered this much in the past. A little voice inside of him whispered:  _Rebecca?_  But he shook his head and smiled fondly as he thought one last time of the honey-haired chemist he'd dated for the last three years before Enterprise left Earth.  _No, not even Rebecca._

He knew in his soul that if it had been any other woman, he would have shrugged his shoulders and moved on.  He thought he'd been dreaming, that early morning in Sickbay when Voltaire's quote about love had floated through his mind, now he wasn't so sure.  It was both daunting and a relief to finally understand what had been eating away at him for the last two years.  '_Damn, no wonder Phlox was worried about us.' _He shook his head as the ramifications of the situation became clear. '_What did a Human do if he were in love with a Vulcan?' _ Then he remembered he might have some answers to that.

Jon reached under his bed for his footlocker. He didn't keep much in there, but there was something that just might help him.  He pulled out the small trunk and stared at the deep blue letters that read:  Enterprise NX-01.  Quickly flipping open the top, he reached in and found what he was looking for, a thick red book he hadn't bothered to read.  His hands curled around the leather binding and he ran his fingers over the title engraved in gold:  The Teachings Of Surak.  T'Pol had given it to him when he'd gone on shore leave to Risa.

As Jonathan opened the front cover, a note slipped out.  The paper smelled slightly of lemon and spices, and the handwriting on the inside sheet was hers:  'To help you relax, T'Pol.'  Sitting back on his heels he nodded in satisfaction. 

At the time he hadn't understood why she'd been so adamant about not going down to the planet Risa herself, but after learning what had happened to her, when she'd tracked two Vulcan criminals there, he was amazed at the depth of her generosity.  She had known the Earth crew would enjoy what it had to offer, and had planned a shore leave for them, even if it was a place that haunted her dreams. 

Picking up the book, he settled on his couch and began to read.  It was rough going, and often sentences had to be read more than once to make sense. Jon had an idea that it was a direct translation from ancient Vulcan to modern English.  He couldn't imagine the High Command sanctioning anything less.  Unfortunately the Vulcan language could be as complicated as the English one.  Both had a number of words with multiple meanings. But he was determined and kept going.  T'Pol's note, written so long ago, had told him the book was to help him relax.  Better understanding of the woman who had become so important to him would do just that, he smiled at the logic of the thought.  _Maybe Surak wasn't so hard to understand after all?_  

…………………….

While Jonathan was studying Vulcan philosophy, T'Pol was busy in her quarters looking up the definition of the word 'date' in her Vulcan-English Dictionary.  It calmed the churning in her stomach when she read what she had found.  Though there were many meanings to the word, the first one that had anything to do with interaction between two people was harmless.  It read, 'an engagement, or occasion arranged beforehand with another person.'  '_That must have been what the Captain meant.'_ She thought, as she remembered him using the term once before.

It had been after they had found an odd ship floating abandon in space.  Its only occupant an ancient corps, which Dr. Phlox had insisted contained DNA strands from multiple species.  For some reason her mind kept skipping over a large fragment of time during that incident.  She assumed it was a residual effect from Pa'nar Syndrome.  The Doctor had explained that the small amount of neural damage it had caused would be permanent, even though the disease appeared to have disappeared along with the Wisp that had tried to take over her thoughts.

Despite the small memory lapse, she remembered clearly, the Captain using the term 'date,' when they had planned to meet for tea in the Mess Hall.  That time and the many times they had met since, had been soothing and pleasant, much like the tea they ingested. His conversation often stimulated her interest in his species.  It seemed unnecessary to avoid his company because of a momentary lapse on her part, due to lack of sleep and neglect of her meditation. 

……………………..

Sitting in the darkened Mess Hall, with the old movie flashing on the large screen in front of him, Jonathan Archer found it hard to think about anything but the woman at his side.  He congratulated himself on how well dinner had gone.  He'd been wise enough to give her space and to take his lead from her.  For the first time since _'that morning,'_ she'd appeared comfortable in his presence.  It had been a formal comfort, but at least she'd finished her food and they'd talked.  Granted, it had been about the scientific phenomena they were about to witness, instead of what he would have really like to talk to her about, but it least it was a start.  

Once the movie began he'd only had to remind T'Pol once, that she'd promised to give the film a chance. Then she appeared to be engrossed in it. He wanted to try a small experiment, but dismissed the idea as implausible and went back to watching Dr. Frankenstein and his creation.  Surrounded by people in the dark, his mind began to wander to the woman beside him.  Her scent fill his head and mind.  The room seemed to drop away, the noises became a dull rush in his ears, and he was surrounded in fog.  Then he felt something sure and strong. It was like a rope reaching out to him, but as he mentally followed the rope, it led to a high wall, that he wasn't strong enough to climb and that had no door or opening.  There was something familiar about the structure that was blocking his mental path.  He'd come up against it before, but couldn't remember where or when, but he knew it was important that he make it to the other side. Very gently he began to lean against it.

T'Pol's focus was being jarred.  She had said she would watch this movie; with its unusual characters, monochromatic tones, and strange dialogue, but no matter how hard she tried to concentrate, something was breaking though.  Then she heard it, Phlox's voice, behind her, carrying on a medical analysis of the film.  She had to make him stop, for some reason it was affecting her mental shields.

Suddenly Jonathan blinked and he shivered, as if someone had startled him awake.  _What the hell had just happened?_  Had he drifted off during the movie? Somehow he didn't think so. Reading Vulcan mysticism was one thing, attempting to practice it was another all together!  Why had he thought he might be able to contact T'Pol's mind?  '_Get over it, Jon, it was only a dream,' _he reprimanded himself.  Even now, he could hear her soft voice over the dialogue of the movie, as she took the Doctor to task for something.  From Hoshi and Trip's soft snickers, behind him, it sounded like he'd missed out on something he would've enjoyed hearing.   His Vulcan was too perceptive to miss much. He was lucky her mind had been occupied by the movie and what ever Phlox had done, if she'd caught him at his attempt to recreate what had happened that morning in Sickbay, he'd have set Human-Vulcan relations back about a century.

The calm that T'Pol had felt all evening was broken by how easy it had been for her to become distracted.  She'd attended Movie Night before and had always been able to focus on what was happening, or if she chose, to appear as if she were, when really working on a complex math problem or logic puzzle.  At least this time it had nothing to do with _Jonathan_.  As she thought his name she could not stop herself from looking up at him.  Unfortunately he had chosen that moment to look over at her.  For one heart beat she let herself look, and for once did not question why.  Why she liked to watch him, or why his presence could calm her when she needed it most but shake her when she least expected it.

As they quickly broke eye contact, she tried not to think about the man beside her or his effect on her.  The whole night was taking on an odd quality that she chose to ignore, as she took popcorn from Jonathan's bowl and quietly munched on it.  It was an unusual food, the taste and texture surprisingly good, and seasoned with that unique Earth seasoning, salt.  She felt her calm return, as she reached for more kernels, and her fingers bumped against much larger ones.

"I'm glad you were willing to forego the utensils this once."  He leaned over and whispered in her ear, as he felt her fingers brush against his again.  "I've seen how determined you can be with a fork, and I 'd hate for my hand to get in the way."

"If Commander Tucker had provided one, along with his movie, I would have used it."  Her brow rose to her bangs, and her eyes flashed a challenge he didn't doubt for a moment.

Together they quietly finished the last of the popcorn and Archer leaned over and put the bowl on the deck.  Out of the corner of his eye he could see her trying to figure out what to do with her salt covered fingers.  He turned toward her and carefully licked off his own, as an example.  T'Pol's eyes popped open and both brows rose completely under her hair.

"That Captain, is why Vulcans do not eat with their fingers."  She leaned closer so others would not hear her words.

He froze, as a number of options flashed through is mind, but he'd promised her he'd be a gentleman and he was as good as his word, so he pulled a clean handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her.  He'd save the mental image of her daintily licking her fingertips, or better yet, him doing it for her, as his own private fantasy.

"Thank you," she nodded as she wiped her hands clean and handed it back.

"Anytime," he murmured, and they both turned their attention back to the images moving on the screen in front of them.  

With a small sigh, T'Pol realized things were back to normal again, or as normal as they had been since she had been assigned to live among the Humans.  She remembered in their first year, Ambassador V'Lar had predicted that she and Jonathan would form a bond of friendship, maybe the Ambassador had been right.  But how had she known?  And did she realize the pitfalls that being friends with a Human entailed?

………………………..

"Well, Darlin' what did ya think of the movie?"  Trip Tucker smiled down at Hoshi Sato as they slipped quietly into her quarters.

"Honestly?"  She arched a brow as he began pulling the pins from her hair.

"Sure, I want ya to always be honest with me."  He leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose, something he had wanted to do all evening, but common sense had told him that a public display of affection would be pushing it.

"Well then, honestly, I think we need to find someone else to pick the movies."  She grinned at him while her hands moved up the planes of his well-muscled chest.

"You're kiddin' me!"

"No I'm not." Hoshi sighed, she should have been more tactful, but she was getting sick and tired of watching movies that were geared toward the twelve-year-old male. "In case you haven't noticed, a good third of this crew is female.  How 'bout showing something we'd like to see for a change."

"We're supposed to sit there and watch girl movies?"  He couldn't believe his ears.  First T'Pol had suggested that a dramatic reading of the book Frankenstein would be more interesting, now Hoshi was pushing to make them sit through a bunch of chick-flicks!

"Occasionally it wouldn't hurt."  Hoshi grinned at the sick look on Trip's face.  "Would it really be that bad?"  She nuzzled his neck and nipped at the sensitive spot that was just below his right ear

"Well, when you put it that way."  His hands moved to the zipper of her jumpsuit and began to inch it down.

……………………

Two Star Fleet uniforms were pooled together beside the bed.  Boots had been tossed helter-skelter, and his standard issue under shorts covered the scrap of silk Hoshi had substituted for hers, but it was the sight of her bra with the torn strap that made him grin and sigh as his hand covered her bottom and pulled her closer to him as they snuggled together.

"How much damage did we do."  Hoshi shivered at the texture of Trip's skin against hers.

"Well, it looks like I might owe you another bra."  He tried to sound apologetic, but his grin ruined it.  "It's your own fault, ya know.  If your eyes didn't grow real wide and you didn't give that incredibly sexy yelp of surprise and passion when somethin' got torn, your clothes would remain in tact."

"You must be thinking of some other woman.  The Hoshi Sato I know would never do that."  She kissed her way over his shoulder and slid over him until her body covered his.  She was warm and sated from making love, and wanted nothing more than to be exactly where she was at that very moment.

"That shows what you know."  Trip ran his hands through her long silky hair and let it drape over both their shoulders.  "Ya see, under the very proper exterior of the linguist, there's one hot blooded woman." 

"I wonder if Vulcans are like that?"  She murmured, her mind suddenly on another couple.

"What?  Why're ya thinkin' about that?"  Trip slid Hoshi to his side and cupped her face so he could see her eyes.

"You were there tonight, you couldn't have missed the Captain and the Sub-Commander whispering to each other during the movie."  She didn't understand the blind spot Trip had when it came to his best friend and T'Pol.

"Yeah…so…That doesn't mean that they.." Trip sputtered.  He knew he was being unfair, but he couldn't make his mind go there.  "My God Hoshi, she's a Vulcan, and I don't trust the Vulcans!

"It's not you who is dating one."  Hoshi pointed out logically. "Besides I trust her, even if she is.   

"Jon is not dating her!" Trip insisted.  "And I don't care what you heard him say on the bridge this afternoon."

"Why are you so thick-headed about this whole thing?  They care about each other."

"He cares about _her_, don't ya mean?"  It made Trip's blood boil every time he thought about how the Vulcans had tried to sabotage the Warp 5 program from the beginning and when they couldn't stop it had placed a spy aboard.

"No, Trip I don't.  She cares about him as well.  She was in almost physical pain when Captain Archer was being held by the Klingons."

"Then why did she give him such a bad time when he got back?"  

"We don't know that she did."  Hoshi sighed, she really liked T'Pol and hated the fact that Trip was blind to her good qualities. 

"Well ya ever hear that old saying, _'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer'?_

"That's such a guy thing to say!"

"It is? Yeah you may be right about that."  Trip swung his legs out of bed and pulled his shorts on.  "What is it with you all of the sudden, guy-movies and guy-sayings.  I thought we were just people."

"But…" Hoshi watched in dismay as he quickly dressed. "Where are you going?" 

"Well this GUY is going to go and sleep in his guy-bed tonight."

"Be sure to turn the light out as you go."  She called after him.  "And you still owe me a bra…" Her voice trailed off as her hatched slammed on her darkened quarters.  She curled back down into her bed that was still warm from his body and for the first night in weeks they both slept alone.

To Be Continued 


	11. Between A Rock And A Heart Place

**_Spoilers:  _**_Cogenitor, small one for The Crossing.  Parts of this chapter refer back to things that happened in chapters 7 & 9 of this story._

Ch 11 Between A Rock And A Heart Place 

****

Hoshi Sato sighed, as she stretched and pulled herself out of bed. She'd thought she'd learned her lesson, when her one love affair in graduate school had ended leaving her broken hearted. Since then, she'd made it a rule to always sleep alone.  The intimacy of waking beside a man she'd made love to the night before, was too dangerous to a heart she wanted to protect at all costs.  She didn't count her visit to Risa. That liaison had been limited to a forty-eight hour shore leave, which she'd dismissed as quickly.  Unfortunately there had been nothing casual about the time she'd spent with Trip Tucker, so she knew there wasn't going to be anything easy about getting over him.   

She'd spent the long lonely night tossing and turning, while her head had argued with her heart. By morning she was so confused nothing made sense anymore.  When Sam had died, she'd told her heart to take a flying leap, so she wouldn't have to endure mornings like this. She's buried herself in her professional life and found joy in complex languages.  Then Trip had come along and her brain had fallen asleep on the job.  After fighting the inevitable for over a year, she'd jumped in with her eyes closed and her heart wide open. She had given him free reign of her emotions and her bed, and now feared it was time to pay the piper.

Their argument had come out of nowhere, but it had been intense enough to make him walk out.  Part of her wished she could take back what they had said to each other, but being a woman who knew the importance of words, she was wise enough to realize that they shouldn't be erased. This morning it felt as if her heart was bleeding from sharp angry cuts, and it was hard for her to catch her breath.  She thanked God her job was mentally demanding; it would help her make it through the day.  

Twenty minutes later, as Hoshi entered the Mess Hall, she came face to face with the man who was at the root of her troubles.  He was leaving the Captain's Mess and looked as tired as she felt.  

"Good morning, Sir," she whispered, as she ducked her head and quickly slipped past Trip.  To her mortification, her eyes had begun to glisten with tears.  The last thing she wanted was for him to see her cry.

"Hosh, you don't need to call me that, we're not on duty, yet."  He felt terrible.  There was an ache somewhere in the region of his chest, where his heart had been. It'd been there each time he awakened, reaching for her slim compact body, and found himself clutching only air.  "Please, Hoshi, talk to me.  I don't want to spend another night like I did last night."

She took a deep breath and turned to face him. What she had to say was going to hurt and she hated having to say it.  "I don't thing we have anything further to talk about.  I'm not going to change my mind, and somehow I don't think you're going to change yours."  She couldn't believe they were fighting over something as childish as another couple's attraction for one another, but this went deeper than that.  Trip was being prejudice and narrow minded.  Those were basic traits she wanted nothing to do with.

"I don't know, I just don't know anymore!"  He ran his hand through his hair in frustration.  Part of him knew she was right about T'Pol, but it went against his grain to trust anyone of her kind.   "I know she's your friend, darlin'.  She was there for you when Jon and I almost got sent to Canamar, and you're right she was upset when the Klingons had him, but when I think of how close the Vulcans came to closin' down the Warp 5 program, and the two-faced way they dealt with Henry Archer, it's hard for me to trust her."

"Trip you can't blame all Vulcans for that. Besides, she's changed a lot in the last two years. If the Captain trusts her and cares about her, can't you give her a chance?"  A stray tear slipped down her face, but she refused to look away from blue eyes that were still filled with confusion and anger.

"Oh Darlin'" He whispered as he ran his thumb over her damp cheek.  "You're too important to me to let anything come between us.  How bout if for the time bein' we agree to disagree, and I'll try to cut her some slack."

Even as Hoshi nodded _'yes_,' a little voice in her head whispered, _'be careful,'_ but she chose not to listen to it. She let Trip pull her into the deserted pantry off the galley.  Her mind was filled with the scent and feel of him as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him so tightly her feet left the deck. When his mouth covered hers, she forgot why she'd been angry with him in the first place and basked in sensual joy.

As he kissed her, all Trip could think about was how sweet she tasted and how much he'd missed having her beside him the night before.  Her small hands clinging to his back excited and calmed him, at the same time. Their tongues danced and played, in a frantic attempt to make up for the last few hours.  When they finally broke apart they were breathless and shaking.   

"Darlin' if we didn't have to be on duty in about five minutes I'd show you how much I really missed you."  His voice was husky with emotion and desire.  It had amazed him from the very beginning how the small woman in his arms could awaken things in him that he'd never felt for anyone before.  She wasn't the type he usually dated, but she owned a piece of his soul, and he was afraid all of his heart.

"I think you just did."  Hoshi gulped as she leaned against him. Still dizzy from the emotional onslaught, she was unable to support her own weight.

…………………………

**_Three Weeks Later:_**

Enterprise was in orbit of a huge gas giant, to gather data.  While there, they had made first contact with another species, the Vissians, who were also researching the phenomena.

T'Pol lengthened her strides to keep up with Captain Archer's much longer ones, as they moved down the corridor.  Both had places to be and things to do, but for the moment were enjoying the silence of each other's company. The Vissian captain had invited Archer to join him in a three-day study of the stratosphere of gasses, which left T'Pol in charge of the ship as well as her usual duties as Science Officer.

Jonathan stood back to let her precede him onto the lift.  He could tell something was bothering her by the way she studied the Padd in her hand.  She may have enjoyed the last few weeks of Frankenstein movies, but he doubted there was anything about the names of the films on the list he'd given her, which would catch the interest of a Vulcan. 

"Ensign Sato checked with the Vissian ship, and was told that communications will not always be possible with your craft."   Her stomach tightened as she thought of the small pod he would be boarding, to go deep into the inner workings of the turbulent gas.  Extreme temperatures and the corrosive nature of unidentified gaseous elements, on a ship whose stress factors were unknown to her, were variables, which made his venture an unreliable one, in her opinion. 

"Don't tell me you're worried about me." A smile crossed his face as he turned and looked at the slim woman beside him.

"Worry is an unproductive Human pastime….." She turned to meet his gaze and felt a lump rise in her throat.  "Enterprise has only recently gotten you back."  Her eyes were large and dark, as she remembered what it had been like when he was being held by the Klingons.  She had spent too many nights walking deserted corridors looking into every nook and cranny of the ship, until she realized that what she was looking for was not onboard, but in a cell on the planet below.

Archer quickly stopped the lift in mid-decent and let his valise drop to the floor.  "I'll be perfectly safe, I promise you. '_Enterprise,_' will not have to do without me_._" '_And neither will you, T'Pol.' _  He thought as he cupped her shoulders.  All the times he'd wanted to hold her close, and hadn't, he'd used that gesture. It had been calming to them both, though he couldn't help wondering what she'd do if he put his arms around her and held on very tightly, for just a moment. 

"You have always kept your promises to me, Jonathan.  I shall expect you to continue to do so. It would be unfitting for Earth's first warp 5 star ship to have a Vulcan captain." She felt him standing close to her, but it was not just the tactile sensation of his hands on her shoulders.  If she did not know it was impossible for a Human to do so, she would be sure his mind had whispered her name.

"Most unfitting."  He murmured------

_"Reed, to primary lift."  _Malcolm's accented voice filled the small space and made its two occupants jump apart. "Is there a problem down there?" 

"Everything's fine, Lieutenant.  I was giving the Sub-Commander last minute instructions, Archer out."

"Yes, Sir."  It was obvious to the Weapon's Officer that the COM link had been hastily terminated at the other end.  With a frown at the captain's odd behavior, he looked up and met Hoshi's soft expression.     

………………………

Hoshi's head pounded and she fought to keep from crying, as she knelt beside Trip and put her arms around him. "I'm so sorry it turned out this way, but it's a lesson we can all learn from." The engineer was sitting on his bed with his face in his hands, totally distraught.

"You're sidin' with her!"  He accused.  His eyes were damp, and his heart heavy.  While Archer had been exploring the gas giant, Trip had tried to do a good deed, but it had blown up in his face.

"I'm not siding with anyone."  She swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Well you should be, and it should be me!  What they were doin' to that poor Cogenitor was awful. I was doin' what Jon would have done if he'd been here, but that Vulcan called him back to Enterprise, then filled his head full of her non-interference ideas. I just know it!"  His emotions had been on a roller coaster for the last twenty-four hours, but had plummeted to the basement, when he'd learned the being he'd tried to help had committed suicide, rather than continue its life as it had been before he'd shown it all it was missing.

"Trip, you're wrong."  Hoshi moved in closer and held his face in her hands.  It was breaking her heart to see him this way, but he had to accept responsibility for his actions.  "No one makes-up Captain Archer's mind for him--"

"Oh yeah!"  He cut in.  "The Jonathan Archer I knew would have given the Cogenitor sanctuary, not sent her back.  That was T'Pol's doing."

"You're missing the point."  She stood up in exasperation, her temper beginning to edge out the sympathy she'd felt for Trip.  "A ranking officer made a decision and you disobeyed it.  If you'd listened to the Sub-Commander in the beginning, none of this would have happened."

"Are you telling me you think it's right the way that poor thing was treated?" 

"Not by Earth standards, but we can't judge other cultures by ours.  Understanding that is part of belonging to a community made of other species with other values."  She whispered.  "Your heart was in the right place, but you made the wrong decision."

"I can't believe you're sayin' that!  _She's _been manipulating him from the beginning and now it seems as if she's gotten to you."  Trip missed his friend and couldn't believe that the man he'd known for so many years wouldn't back him up in this situation. 

"Well you better believe it Trip Tucker, because we're out here with just ourselves to depend on, and she's one of us, whether you like it or not!   You're third in command.  That makes you extremely influential, but you don't like or trust the First Officer, and you let it show every chance you get."  She saw him open his mouth to interrupt her again, but her anger had boiled to the surface, and she refused to let him.  "I grant you, she and the Captain may have become closer than is normal, but we're over 100 light years from Earth and it's anybody's guess when we'll return.  He's your friend, I'd think you'd be happy for him." 

"You're twistin' this all around."  He frowned at her.

"No," she shook her head.  "I don't know what's going on inside your head, but you're refusing to see the truth.  Somehow your animosity toward the Sub-Commander got all wrapped up in your desire to help the Vissian Cogenitor.  If it had been Captain Archer, instead of T'Pol who had given the order to stop interfering, two days ago, before things went so far, would you have obeyed?"

"That's not the point."  He reached for Hoshi and tried to pull her close, but she squirmed out of his arms.

"Yes it is. It's very much the point." Despair filled her heart as she realized they'd been over this ground before.  "I can't do this anymore, Trip.  I love you, but I can't keep on fighting the same fight over and over again.  I think we need to go back to a strictly professional relationship."

"You're blowing this all out of proportion."  He felt his breath catch as Hoshi pulled further and further away from him. His mind couldn't grasp the thought of a future without her in it, but he couldn't see his way clear to change his mind about what had happened either  

"No, I'm not, and the sad thing is you don't see it."  Tears filled her eyes as she turned and headed for the door.  "You've got to get this straightened out, and do it soon, before you do more damage to your friendship with the Captain and to yourself."  She turned back to make one last effort to make him understand.  "You're calling into question the loyalty of our Second-In-Command, I believe that could be considered mutiny?  And by doing so, you are questioning the Captain's judgment in keeping her in that position, again a mutinous act."

"Are you quite finished?"  He glared at her.  _How dare she accuse him of mutiny, when he'd only been trying to help?_

"No, I am not."  Hoshi squinted up at him and hoped he had the sense to listen to what she was saying.  "What you're doing is a danger to moral, your own career, and a general pain in the ass, Sir!"

"That will be all Ensign."  He dismissed her through gritted teeth.

"Yes, Sir!"  She turned smartly and left him alone with his consciences.  She'd assess the damage to her heart when it began to beat again.  For the moment it was only a gapping hole in her chest.

………………….

Something kept tickling at T'Pol's mind, as she tried to read.  Three times in the last fifteen minutes she had put her book down and listened.  She nodded to herself as she assessed the sounds from the engines, but they were not the source of her distraction.  The last three days had been unsettling, but she had spent extra time in meditation, so her emotions were as smoothly controlled as the warp drive.  With an elegant shrug of her shoulders she went back to the book that Ensign Sato had lent her.

Five minutes later she closed her copy of Lord Of The Rings.  She could not keep her mind on the older style English.  It was highly illogical, because she found the book fascinating, but something was breaking her concentration nonetheless.  Her mind kept wandering back over the last three days.

The incident with the Vissians had been particularly disquieting and emotionally upsetting for the Humans involved.  But her mental shields were firmly in place, so why did she still pick up residual emotional vibrations from the exchange between Captain Archer and Commander Tucker?  The part of her that was still loyal to the High Command was able to look coolly and calmly at the situation as another reason why the volatile Earthers should remain in their own solar system.  But there was another part that could only see the tragedy of the loss of a life, and wonder how it could have been prevented.

She took a deep calming breath and touched the center of her being. In the past that had helped her regain focus when it had been askew, but tonight it did not.  All she found there was the image of Jonathan Archer's face filled with guilt and disappointment. 

Rising quickly, she pulled a quilted robe on over her green silky pajamas and headed out the hatch.  For once she did not analyze her motive. She just acted.  Over the years, when she would look back on that night, she was never sure what had been going through her mind at the time.  She would have a clear recollection of sitting in her quarters and the next thing she would be sure of, was that she was standing in Jonathan's open door.

"Did you need something, Sub-Commander?"  His voice cracked when she stepped into the space between his bed and desk. It was late, and T'Pol was the last person he'd expected to see, but the one he'd most wanted too. He'd been laying on his bed tossing his ball in the air, trying to get his racing thoughts to slow down enough to sleep. 

"I thought…I wanted to…" For the first time in her life she found that words failed her. _'Why had I come, what did I think I could accomplish by being here.'_  For a flash she saw herself lying in the bed that was beside her.  In her mind she was looking up at Jonathan, his face close to hers and she could feel every inch of his skin against her body.  It was dark and she was unsure of were she was, but his voice was soothing and quiet, as he spoke words that made no sense: '_it is imperative that you do nothing to change the timeline…." _

"No," she whispered as she shook her head and buried the images that were trying to break through to her conscious mind. "It was only a dream."

"T'Pol, are you all right."  Jonathan rolled off the bed, while tossing his ball aside and reaching for the woman who had turned suddenly pale.

His touch made her blink, as she used all her mental efforts to tuck away any residual from the Wisp induced dream that had surfaced.  "I am fine, Captain."

"Are you sure? Do you need Phlox to take a look at you?"  He didn't care if the doctor had assured him that the Pa'nar Syndrome would no longer kill her, he worried about her anyway.

"The Doctor would be no help."  She steadied her voice and told him the truth, as she understood it.  "I have discovered even Vulcans are not immune to the flashbacks that all of the crew who were inhabited by the Wisps, have experienced.  I am fine."  She nodded, as she felt her mental walls strong and erect, once again.

"Flashbacks?  I thought you'd successfully kept the Wisp out?"  He'd known some of the crew had had problems.  It hadn't been anything that affected their work, so he'd left it in Dr. Phlox's capable hands.  But this was the first he'd heard that T'Pol had been experiencing them.

"I did," she raised her brow and stood her ground.  This was not an area she wished to discuss or remember.  "The alien tried to use odd thoughts to make me drop my guard.  It was a matter of blocking them, as it is with the flashbacks."

"So you treat memory much like you'd treat emotion, you submerge it?"  Suddenly Archer was no longer thinking of the Wisps that had tried to take over Enterprise, but the events of the last few days.

"In my case it used false memories, so to deny their existence was only logical."  She nodded as her eyes strayed to his desk and the book of Surak's teachings that lay open.  '_He was reading it!'_ She felt a moment of…of…something odd and very foreign. It reminded her of the sweet gooey taste of pecan pie, or the warm salty crunch of popcorn, but it was a mental response, not a physical one.  

"What if they're real?"  His voice shook with pain as he remembered his best friend telling him that he had interfered with the Vissians because it was the example Jonathan had set.  

"When the memory is real, just as with emotions, one must first accept it then move through it in order to rise above it."

"How very Vulcan!"  Jonathan snorted, and turned his back on the cool calm woman who had the power to set his heart on fire, and wished that just once he had her control of emotions.

"True, and it has taken us centuries of discipline to do it."  She placed her hand on his shoulder.  "Jonathan, please."  Her palm tingled where it came in contact with his t-shirt, while a voice inside of her head yell at her to be careful.

"Please what?"  He turned suddenly very aware of her presence.  He'd heard too many stories over the years about Vulcan telepathy, and his experience the morning he woke in Sickbay was too fresh in his memory to make him comfortable.  _Had she read his thoughts?  Had she been inside his head and he hers that morning?_  He'd been able to convince himself it was all a dream, but when her hand had rested on his shoulder he felt her in ways that didn't make sense.

"Please let me help you."  Her words were breathy and for once her face wasn't a mask, but Jonathan doubted she realized it.

"There is nothing you can do," he sighed. "Edmond Burke, a 17th century English politician once said, _'the only thing necessary for evil to triumph, is for a good man to do nothing.'_  The part of me who is just a person, a citizen of the universe believes it, but as Captain of the Earth Star Ship Enterprise, I can't act on it, or condone it."

"It is not easy when your beliefs run contrary to what is right."  It had only been because she had read historical records of errors the Vulcans had made in early first contacts, and her experiences dealing with a multitude of different species that had allowed her to appear to remain indifferent to the plight of the Cogenitor. "There is another Earth saying, that I believe is more apropos.  _'God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.  The courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.'_  It was the wisdom, which Commander Tucker lacked.  This was only a first contact, which could have led to an exchange of diplomats. Then over time the plight of the Cogenitors in Vissian society could have been addressed, but because of what the Commander did, all that was lost.  He attempted to save one individual at the expense of thousands in the future."

"_'The needs of the many, outweigh the needs of the few, or the one?_'" He quoted from The Teachings Of Surak.  It went against all that he believed.  "I'm sorry T'Pol, but the individual is important too."

"You are correct, but one needs to choose when to act.  The Vissians would have fought to get the Cogenitor back and their technology is vastly superior to Enterprise's.  We would have lost."  She reached for him and laid her hand on his arm.  "Jonathan you did the only thing you could have done.  Let us hope that in a hundred years or so, another better contact will be achieved." 

"An optimistic Vulcan? I thought that had been breed out of your species."  His words snapped out.  He was in pain and resented the fact that T'Pol could speak logically and coolly about a decision he'd agonized over.

"I will say good night and leave you alone with your self-pity, Captain."  She turned quickly, his words had been as unexpected as the physical pain they caused.

"Wait, please."  He didn't want her to leave and frantically searched for the correct thing to say.  "You've been a help, but how did you know I needed to talk to someone."  It hadn't been just anyone he'd needed to talk to, it had been her, but he knew she wasn't ready to hear that yet.

"I do not know."  A slight frown marred her brow.  _'How had she known he needed her?'  _

"T'Pol, I know I'm not the captain the Vulcans would have liked for Enterprise, but have I really made that many mistakes when dealing with other races?  Have I really messed up so badly that Trip would think I'd advocate interfering the way he did.  My God, to hear him talk, I've been running around the quadrant playing sheriff. Trying to enforce Earth's beliefs on all the species we've met."

She put her hands on his shoulders.  It was a posture he had used with her, when she needed his support the most, and it had always been helpful. She hoped her touch would do the same for him.  "Humans are an emotional, opinionated people, and there have been times where we did not share the same priorities. Because of this you have not always made the choices I would have made, but you have always tried to take into consideration the consequences before you acted.  You are a good captain, Jonathan Archer, it is one of the reasons I have stayed on Enterprise."

"Thank you."  He covered her hands with his and let her touch calm him as it absorbed some of his pain.

"Ease your mind, Jonathan."  She whispered.  "Ease your mind."

For an instant they stood together as one being in two bodies, then T'Pol withdrew her hands.  With the loss of contact they fell back into themselves.  Both stepped back and blinked.  The Human wasn't sure what had happened and the Vulcan refused to acknowledge it.

That night Jonathan slept peacefully.  He dreamt that he was holding onto one end of a rope and T'Pol the other.  It was a rope that would stretch and bend but never break.  Somewhere deep in his sleeping mind he realized that they were attached forever.  The knowledge soothed and reassured him as he turned over and slept a dreamless sleep for the rest of the night.

T'Pol's sleep was a bit more restless.  Her dreams were of an old Vulcan myth.  It took place in ancient times, before Surak.  The myth was of a scholar turned warrior, who had been badly wounded in an attack by a warring tribe.  Their healer had been killed in the battle, and another one had been sent for, but it would take the medicine man many hours to make the journey.  In the mean time, the scholar-warrior's life force was slowly being drained out of him.  In a desperate attempt to save him, the dying man's mate bandaged his wounds, and held him through the long night.  She grasped the thin cord that was their mating bond with all of her mental energy, to add her life force to his dwindling one, and shared his pain much like she had shared his passion during Pon Farr, thus keeping him alive until the healer arrived many hours later.  

It was a fanciful myth that no Vulcan who believed in logic gave credit too.  But to the sleeping woman there was something familiar about the story, something that caused her to toss and turn late into the night.  Finally her disciplined mind took over and buried it, allowing her to sleep until morning. Upon waking she had no memory of the dream, only the odd sense that she had dreamt.

………………………

**_Late The Next Evening:_**

Trip Tucker sat in the Mess Hall with a bottle of scotch, a deck of cards and music playing from his Padd.  He'd lost five straight games of solitaire, listened to almost half the songs on the sound disk that Hoshi had made for him for his birthday, and hadn't bothered to count of the number of times he'd refilled his glass from the bottle of Jim Beam.

"Trip, do you think that's the wisest thing to do?"  Jonathan Archer walked into the music filled room. 

"Probably, not."  He glared at Archer, unsure if he was addressing his friend or his commanding officer.  Since the older man was in sweats and a t-shirt he took a gamble.  "If ya care to join me, grab a glass."

"Thanks, I don't mind if I do."  He reached into the cupboard next to the protein resequencer and pulled out a cup, too tired to go to the galley and find something more appropriate. "Are you doing all right?"

"As good as can be expected."  Trip held up his glass and watched the lights in the room dance through the liquor. He wanted to talk to his friend about what had transpired between them, but it wasn't the kind of conversation that usually took place between men. He searched his mind for a sports analogy, but couldn't come up with one.  "How bout you, how you doin'?"

"It's been a rough few days."  Jonathan settled into the chair across from Trip and poured himself a liberal amount of whiskey.  "It's made all the rougher, because the 83 of us on Enterprise, not only work here, but we live here, too."  After T'Pol had left the night before he'd spent a lot of time thinking about his friendship with Trip, and how to preserve it.  "If a program like this is going to succeed, we need to remember that we have professional lives as well as personal ones, and the dynamics can be different depending on whether we're wearing our uniform or our civvies."

Trip's glass hit the table in surprise and relief, scattering a half-finished game of Klondike to the floor.  "Ya mean I didn't ruin our friendship completely?"

"We're friends as well as co-workers.  The captain of a star ship is going to be a damn lonely person, if he can't keep his professional life, and personal one separate."  Archer grinned at the younger man.  "And I'd hate to think I was sitting here drinking with just anybody."

"It's a hard thing to get past, though."  Trip picked up the fallen cards and gathered them into a neat stack.  "At the time I thought I was doin' the right thing, but I wasn't, and it turned out to be real costly."  He thought of the dead being, a damaged first contact, and the end of his relationship with Hoshi.

"A lot of what we do out here is hard."  Jon took a long drink of scotch and looked deep within himself.  "We're the first Human's out this far.  There's no rulebook for us to follow.  Star Fleet can give us certain guidelines, but they have the luxury of sifting through reports and using hindsight to tell us what we should've done.  We're the ones who have to make moment-by-moment decisions and hope to God the answers we come up with are the correct ones.  I used to say 'we're making history with every light year.'"  He shook his head and smiled at his naivety, while he drank deeper from his cup.  "But we're doing more than that.  We're making the mistakes that'll allow our children and their children, after them, to go out into the universe with wisdom, and knowledge.  Maybe they'll even have directives of some sort, so they can move freely though space without having to worry about causing harm, or doing damage."

"Ya mean like the Vulcans?"  Trip frowned.  He'd had a gut full of their ideas and ideals.

"Not exactly," he smiled.  "Humans think differently, so I don't believe we'll ever be just like them.  After what I've seen out here, I like to think that some of their rules came from mistakes they made when they were in our position.  One day Star Fleet will have ships all over the quadrant, when those captains look back I want them to see a past that made a difference, one that made it easier for them than we have it now."

 "Jon, I gotta ask ya somethin' and if I'm outta line you tell me, but I gotta know somethin' for sure." Doubt still ate at Trip, and he needed reassurance from his friend.  "How much did T'Pol have to do with your decision to send the Cogenitor back to the Vissian ship?"

"Nothing," he shook his head as he poured himself more scotch.  "Right or wrong, the decision was mine to make.  I'm the captain, and therefore responsible for the actions of everyone on Enterprise."

"But she did tell you what she thought, didn't she?"  The younger man was grasping at straws as he realized the awkward position he'd put the Captain in.  When it came time for Star Fleet to read the reports on what happened in the Vissian first contact, the Monday Morning Quarterbacks in San Francisco would call Jonathan Archer to task, not Charles Tucker III.

"She didn't need to, I already knew."  Jonathan whispered as he thought about the woman who'd come to his quarters the night before.  He knew without a shadow of a doubt, that as acting captain, she could have forced her will on Trip.  If she had, her reasons for doing so would have been filled with logic, though in the end it would have boiled down to the fact that she would have done it, so he wouldn't have to.  But she had been wise enough, and knew him well enough, to have left it up to him.

"Well she doesn't exactly keep her mouth shut when it comes to speaking her Vulcan mind."  Trip poured them each one more drink, then screwed the top back on his bottle.

"No she doesn't."  Archer laughed.  "She'll advise, but she doesn't insist anymore."

"Not that it did her much good, even in the beginning!"  Tucker huffed.

"No, it didn't.  We're a stubborn lot. And somewhere along the line she's figured out that Humans have to make their own mistakes, if we're going to really learn from them.  And she respects us enough to let us do so." 

"You trust her don't ya?"  Trip squinted at his friend, wanting to ask much more, but not daring too.

"With my life."  Jonathan empted his cup and sigh.  He hadn't had that much to drink in a long time and was feeling fuzzy around the edges.  "Hell, after the last year I trust her with all our lives, and our futures."  As he settled back in his chair, he really listened to the music that was coming from Trip's Padd.  "That's not you're usual style."  He frowned at the romantic ballad that was filling the air.

"Hoshi downloaded a bunch of songs for me from the computer."  The younger man tried to shrug it off, but ended up grinning, warmed by the effort she'd made.

"It's getting late, were you supposed to meet her tonight?"  They'd been talking for over an hour, neither paying any attention to the time.

"Nope."  Tucker took the last swallow in his glass and gritted his teeth.

"You two have a disagreement?"  Archer probed.

"Ya might say that."  His glass hit the table, as he stood up and paced the length of the room.

"Have you tried talking to her about it?"  Jon watched his friend pace.  "Hoshi's always struck me as being kind-hearted and forgiving."

"Humph! That just shows what you know." Trip turned and frowned, fighting the urge to throw something.  With his hands balled into fists, he finally slouched back into his chair, all the energy drained out of him. "I tried apologizin', but she doesn't want to listen to anythin' I have to say.  Every time she sees me comin' she heads the other way, or worse yet, stands at attention and practically salutes me!""

"She means that much to you?" In the years he'd known the younger man, he'd seen women come and go.  If things didn't work out with the one he was dating, Trip would shrug his shoulders and move on.  But this time the engineer didn't appear to be going anywhere.

"Jon, I think I love her."  He whispered; blue eyes filled with concern.  He'd always thought love was an emotion that happened to other men.  "What am I goin' to do?"

"If you really care that much about her, give her time."  Archer whispered.  His blood pounded because he knew there was a woman out there who probably held his heart, too.

"Is that what you'd do?"  Trip looked up, suddenly realizing his friend wasn't just giving advice, but taking it as well.

"Yup, exactly."  Jonathan nodded, his thoughts filled with green eyes that fought to remain cool and calm, but that often looked into his filled with wonder and caring.

****

****

**_To be continued_**


	12. The Crossroad Between Yesterday And Tomo...

Spoiler:  Regeneration and First Flight

Notes:   The poem Roadways, which is mentioned, was written by John Masefield.  I've added the entire poem at the end of this chapter.  Masefield is the same man who wrote Sea Fever.  The lines 'And all I ask is a tall ship, And a star to steer her by, are from that poem.  They are on a plaque on Kirk's Enterprise.

Thanks to:  Monica for all the proofing and support and to Lisa for Japanese tea information and an afternoon of encouragement.   

Enjoy!

Ch 12 The Crossroad Of Yesterday And Tomorrow

It was late, when T'Pol headed to the Mess Hall for her usual cup of tea. If she were Human she would call it habit, but since she was not, she thought of it as her nightly routine, much like meditation.  But unlike meditation, this routine included another individual, Jonathan Archer. As she approached the entrance, deep rowdy voices caused her to stop and peek around the doorframe.  She heard Commander Tucker belch loudly, and watched as Jonathan slapped the table and laughed uproariously.  A frown marred her brow as she tried to understand what the Commander had said or done that would cause such an exaggerated reaction, but the odd humor was lost on her. Stepping closer, but still staying out of sight, she noticed they were slouched in their chairs, their hair was disheveled and there was a sharp fragrance in the air she could not place. 

She closed her eyes for a moment before she turned to head back toward the lift.  Just outside the safety of her mental shields she sensed the calm of harmony.  It appeared as if the men had mended their friendship, which had been badly shaken due to the problems with the Vissian first contact.  Their ability to put their professional differences aside and continue on with their personal lives was a mark in their favor. Though Human male bonding was good for them, it was something she wanted no part of.  It was usually loud, crude and often included much imbedding in alcohol.  'Ah, yes,' she thought as she remembered the smell that had made her nose twitch.  The bottle on the table between the men looked like the one Jonathan used when he would occasionally pour himself a drink. She believed it was a fermented beverage called scotch. 

As she rounded the last bend before the lift, she came face to face with Hoshi Sato.  "Good evening, Ensign."

"Sub-Commander," the younger woman nodded, but kept her head down and her eyes on the deck.

"Ensign, are you ill?"  T'Pol blocked her way with a gentle hand on her arm, but drew it back quickly when she realized she had intruded on the other woman's private space.  It was obvious the young Human was in distress, but the Vulcan was unsure what to do about it.

"No, Ma'am, I'm just…." Hoshi gasped and covered her mouth with her hand as she heard deep male voices echoing off the curved walls of the corridor as they came closer and closer to where the women were standing.  One of them had a southern lilt and belonged to the last person she wanted to run into.

T'Pol looked over her shoulder toward the noise of the approaching men behind them, then at the distressed look on the young woman's face.  It only took her a moment to size up the situation.  When the lift doors opened, she pulled Hoshi in with her and used her command codes to execute an emergency lockout. The doors slammed shut and would not have let anyone open them, without the correct override procedure. The last thing she saw was the look on the faces of two rather surprised men, as they were denied entrance to a lift that was feet away.

"Hoshi."  Trip whispered, as the closing door separated him from the woman he wanted to hold in his arms.  He'd only seen her for a second, but he hadn't missed the tears that ran down her face. 

Hoshi heard the anguish in Trip's voice and leaned against the wall of the lift, unable to move or think.

T'Pol had felt her stomach clench when her eyes had met Jonathan's.  For a moment she had felt a rush of warmth, followed by a pounding deep in her chest as her mind asked, 'is this what happens when Human emotions engulf a male and female?'  The pounding had turned to an icy thud when she thought she heard Jonathan whisper. 'Not us, never us.'   But his lips had not moved.  She could not have heard his voice!  It was a relief when the doors had closed and had hidden eyes that burned into hers with green fire.

The ride to C deck was a quiet one as both women tried not to think of the men that they had left behind. "Thank you, Sub-Commander."  Hoshi swallowed and stood straighter as the lift opened.

"I had been going to the Mess Hall for tea when I heard them."  T'Pol's voice cracked and she blinked as she refused to listen to the voices shouting in her head. A deep cleansing breath allowed her to find her center and she told herself 'I was only reacting to the emotions that had been flying between the Ensign and the Commander. I myself am completely unaffected!'  To prove it she tried her voice again. "It has been my experience that no female of any species should have to endure males when they express their regard for one another."

"I know exactly what you mean."  Hoshi tried to smile, but it was hard when she was still hurting.  "I have a little of my grandmother's roasted green tea left, if you'd care to join me?" It was a remedy the old lady had used whenever any of her grandchildren had needed cheering up.  To this day just the fragrance of the ground leaves in the canister was enough to fill Hoshi with calm happy memories.

"Another time perhaps."  T'Pol nodded and hoped her words were the correct ones to use with a young Human female whose feelings were out of control.  At the moment her need to meditate, and close out the emotions that bombarded her from all directions was more important than the illogical pleasure she received from warm tea sliding over her palate.

"I know Vulcans don't need people the way Humans do, but if you ever want some company, the offer for tea is always open."

"I will keep that in mind, Ensign." 

The use of her title made Hoshi very aware that there was more she needed to say. "Sub-Commander, I want to thank you for acting so quickly. I really didn't want to run into him." She whispered, knowing that T'Pol knew exactly whom she was talking about and most likely why, as well. It was embarrassing to know that most of the ship probably realized she and Trip had been having an affair, and that it was over. "I also want to assure you, that it will never happen again.  I shouldn't have let myself get involved with him, but I did…now…well…I have to deal with it."

"Ensign, you have been very careful to keep your work and personal life separate, and I know the Captain has chosen to ignore relationships that have grown up among crewmembers, as long as those involved maintained a professional interaction when on duty."  There was a good deal she would have liked to ask Hoshi, but to do so would be to show emotion.  As it was, she had already intervened inappropriately.

"Captain Archer knows?"  Hoshi gasped.

"We have never discussed it, but I do not think much goes on aboard Enterprise that he does not know about."  T'Pol shrugged, it was a gesture she had picked up from Jonathan, but was unaware of it.  "And he and the Commander have been friends for a long time. Certainly they would have discussed it."

"I hope not."  Tears filled Hoshi's eyes and she sniffed in an attempt to gain control over them.  "If you will excuse me, Sub-Commander, I'm sorry, I've been more of an imposition than usual."  The young woman turned and practically fled down the corridor to her quarters.

"It was not…an imposition…" T'Pol shook her head knowing her words had not been heard.  She was left alone with emotions resounding all around her.  "How had Humans survived as long as they had with feelings that tore them apart?' She wondered, as she too escaped to her quarters to spend a good part of the night meditating. The voices she had been hearing, all to often, needed to be calmed and brought under control.  At first they had only been whispers, but since her encounter with the Wisp they invaded her dreams and most recently they would intrude at odd times when her concentration was needed the most. 'I am here to influence the Humans, not the other way around!'  She reminded herself during the long night, while she fought inappropriate images of Jonathan.

……………………..

When the lift doors had closed on the men, both had been surprised.  Trip had pounded them with his fist in frustration, but the Captain has been unable to do anything but stand there.  'Damn, I must be drunk!'  Jonathan shook his head to clear it.  If he were sober he would have been sure he had heard T'Pol asking him about Human emotions. 'That's the last time I try to go one-on-one with Trip when he's armed with a bottle of scotch.'

"Come on, we're both too old for this kind of nonsense."  He understood his friend's anger, because part of him had wanted to force his way onto the lift, too. He would have pulled T'Pol into his arms, and kissed that Vulcan calm right off her face.  He thanked the powers that be that he'd realized it was the alcohol talking, because he'd been seconds away from using his override codes, that would have trapped the lift open and the women within their reach.  

"Why'd she have'ta close us out?"  The engineer growled.  "I wanted to talk to Hoshi."

"No you didn't my friend!"  Archer shook his head at the younger man.  He was glad when the lift arrived.  The temptation to follow the women was growing and he was just sober enough to realize it would be a huge mistake. "We've both had too much to drink and that is not the way to impress a woman." He guided Tucker aboard and pushed the button for B deck.

"I'm not that drunk." Trip leaned against the wall of the lift, so he wouldn't lose his balance.  He was darned if he'd let his friend see that he could hardly stand.  "Besides she'd been cryin'."  It had torn at his heart to see her that way.

"Remember what we talked about, you were going to give her some time."  Jon warned when the doors opened and they negotiated the corridor to Trip's quarters.

"Time!  There's no time like the present!  I just wanna hold her, it'll make her stop cryin'."  He doubted his words made much sense, but the feelings behind them made all the sense in the world.  "She's so tiny and gentle, if I keep on holdin' on to her it'll make all the bad go away."  Trip stumbled and would have fallen if Archer hadn't caught his arm and guided him to the bed.

"Thanks ol' buddy I owe you one, an I never forget a favor."  He whispered as he turned on his side and rubbed his nose into his pillow.  "Hhhhhmmmm it smells like her."  He smiled and rubbed his face against the scent of the woman he wished he was holding.

"Whoa…that's more information than I want."  Jonathan shook his head and reached for a blanket to cover the drowsy man.

"Jon?"

"Get some sleep, you're going to feel like hell in the morning." 

"You love her don'tcha?"  The engineer's tongue had trouble forming the words, but he was finally able to get his question out.

"Hoshi?"  Archer blinked in surprise.  He had a great regard for the linguist and had felt a brotherly protectiveness for her since he'd enticed her onto Enterprise three weeks early, but he didn't love her.

"Naw."  Trip muttered into his pillow.  "T'Pol, you lo, you lov…" Unable to coordinate his speech, he gave up.   The unfinished sentence was left hinging in the air between them, but it spoke volumes of its own, as he passed out.  The scotch had finally won.

Jonathan walked closer to his friend and gave his shoulder a good shake; to be sure he was really asleep.  "Fraid so, old friend, now if I could just figure out what to do about it."

He looked around Trip's quarters one last time before turning out the lights.  When he saw the top of the sleeping man's dresser he was gut punched by a shaft of envy that hit so hard it took his breath away.  There beside Trip's comb was a hairbrush with strands of long dark hair still clinging to the bristles. Hairpins and a pair of small silver earrings were sitting side by side with a memory chip and spanner that had yet to be returned to engineering.  It was tangible evidence that a man and a woman had shared a life together, even if it had only been for a short while.

For just a moment Jonathan closed his eyes and pictured what his quarters could look like.  There would be a statue of Surak above the desk, side-by-side with the one of Zephram Cochrane.  A small red and gold brocade pillow would be next to his larger, plainer one, on the bed.  In among his collection of books would be ones whose titles were written in Vulcan. On his dresser with his comb and razor, there would be a slim blue bottle that contained oil, which smelled like lemon and spices.

"Damn!"  He muttered as he turned out the light and left Trip sleeping.  "Damn I gotta stay away from the booze, it makes me imagine things."  But in his heart he knew he'd seen what his future could be like.  It was either that, or loneliness, because fate had dealt him a wicked hand.  The one woman he knew he would spend the rest of his life loving, was one who didn't understand the emotion. 

………………………..

Earth, 5 years before Enterprise left to take Klaang home:

****

Quinton Williams had been a brash, fast moving test pilot with Star Fleet, when he'd made the biggest mistake of his life. He'd gotten caught half naked with Admiral Periwinkle's completely naked daughter.  The error had been a costly one.  It had ended his marriage to his socially prominent wife, and his career had ground to a halt.  In the Admiral's wrath he'd had the young Lieutenant transferred to Section 31.  It was a dead end job, in a dead end department.  The Section had taken its name from sub-section 31 to the Earth-Vulcan Trade Agreement.  It stated that Earth would assign an Administrator Of Security over all computers used in correspondence with the Vulcans.  But since the Vulcans had supplied the encryption codes, it was a security department in name only.  

_From his closet sized office, tucked away in a corner of one of the few remaining buildings of old Fort Baker, Quinton was aware of the action going on across the grounds at Star Fleet Headquarters.  In his windowless room he couldn't see it, and had little hope of ever again taking part in it, as anything but an errand boy.  The irony made his punishment all the worse, to always be on the periphery of power, but never be allowed to participate_.

Over the years, as Williams' quiet anger grew, he discovered another kind of power. The kind that came with secrets and secrecy.  His security clearance had been upgraded due to the intended nature of his new post, but he found the only times he used it, were when he was called upon to act as a courier.  It hadn't taken him long to realize the value of the information contained in the documents he was carrying. Once that happened, anything that came his way was copied prior to delivery. Next he began to change his image. Gone was the dominant career driven man, and in his place was born a silent, almost non-existent persona. He became a master at fading into the woodwork, until men who should have known better, began to talk openly in front of him, forgetting he was there, and adding to his store of secrets.

…………………..

7 hours after the Artic research vessel blasted out of Earth's atmosphere:

Williams paced as he listened to the reports that were coming in about the expedition to the Artic that had been lead by Dr. Alexander Drake, and the words 'damage control,' whispered through his head. 

He'd given Drake the okay to search for the debris that was rumored to be hidden under feet of ice and snow.  He'd even set it up so it would appear to have been sanctioned by Star Fleet. When in reality he'd pulled a few strings at the Admiralty and dangled the bait in front of Forrest's nose, to get the funding for the project.  But the Doctor would have reported to him, and he would have passed on only what he wanted Star Fleet to know.

Now Admiral Forrest was in it up to his eyebrows.  He'd even been to visit the dig site.  But worst of all Forrest had contacted Enterprise to have them intercept the fleeing vessel. 

"Damnit!"  Williams ground his teeth as he read the report.  "Damn Enterprise and damn Archer!"  'That should have been my ship!'  He'd been a fast track Star Fleet officer and a hotshot pilot just starting out in the warp 2 program.  It didn't matter if Archer had been further along than he had been, he would have surpassed him.  He was sure of it, but one social blunder and he'd been reduced to a paper pusher! He remembered Commander Archer from those days; the man had been a stuffed-shirt, nose to the grindstone no-nothing.  If Granite-Jaw Jon's father hadn't invented the engine, Williams was sure the son would have amounted to nothing.

At the moment he didn't have time for the past, he had the present to take care of.  Pulling a cigar out of his pocket, he picked up his communicator and made a few discrete calls.  Over the years he'd amassed a power structure that spread to all branches of the government and even into the private sector.  Nothing happened on Earth or Mars Colony that he didn't know about and if he chose, have a hand in. 

It had been over two years since Quinton Williams had used his present rank of Commander, for anything except the occasional dealing with Star Fleet.  His real power lay in the organization he'd created, and hidden from the universe. This was its first real test; everything else had been child's play in comparison. Section 31 would stand or fall on the outcome of this fiasco.  He wanted any and all information that was to be had on the find in the Artic and he and his operatives were going to get it one way or another.

…………………………..    

"Ooohhh!"  Trip Tucker gasped as Enterprise was hit by weapon's fire, and he reached for the nearest handrail to keep from going headfirst off the scaffold beside the warp core.  His head pounded, and he swore that if he could only live long enough to keep his engines intact, he'd never touch alcohol again.  Hangovers were a bitch and he had the mother and father of all hangovers!  Now was not the time to have to get into a shootin' war.

He had a vague memory of Jon draggin' him out of the Mess Hall the night before, and he thought they'd run into Hoshi, not long after that, and she'd been real upset.  But two hours ago when the senior staff had met for a briefing, she'd looked right through him in a cool calm way that told him, he must'a dreamt that he'd seen her cryin'.

"Damn you Cap'n, is this revenge cause I drank you under the table last night?"  He shook his fist, at his COM unit, as the ship rocked again, almost tossing him to the deck.  They'd been on the trail of some aliens that'd been buried in the Artic for 100 years.  When Enterprise had received an automated distress call from a Tarklian freighter, Archer had gambled that the same aliens they were chasing were involved.  If the weapon's fire was any proof, it appeared as if the Captain had been correct. "Why the hell couldn't those scientists have left them sleepin' where they were?"  Trip had gotten a good look at the pictures that Forrest had sent them.  At the moment he figured he felt as bad as they looked.

……………………

Hoshi still trembled inside, while she quietly fed Dr. Phlox's animals.  Her mind kept playing over and over again, the moment on the bridge when Captain Archer had quietly asked T'Pol if there was an outer hatch near the junction where the cybernetically infected Tarkalians were in a firefight with Malcolm and his team.  What she'd seen had made her feel like a voyeur, as she'd sat at her station, unable to tear her eyes off the Captain and Sub-Commander, as they'd worked like two people with one mind. Words had been almost non-existent, but their actions had been clear and concise.

One moment Archer had been giving orders for Reed to pull his team back behind a locked bulkhead, and the next T'Pol's hands had flown over her console.  Hoshi remembered feeling faint at the ramifications of what was happening.  She had pictured in her mind, an outer hatch opening and bodies being sucked into the vacuum of space.  It had happened in less than a minute, but it had seemed like forever. Then when it was over and Archer's face was a mirror of his pain, a few whispered words from the woman at his left, and it appeared as if the pain became hers and his began to ease.  Hoshi was still feeling the waves of sadness that had swept through her then.  She had witnessed a private moment and envied them their connection.

"Hoshi?"  Phlox called to her from where he was working to find a cure for the nanoprobes he'd been infected with.  "Earlier you asked if there was anything you could do for me, there may be something."

"Anything, all you have to do is ask."  She wanted to help the Doctor anyway she could and was glad for the relief of someone to talk to.    

"When the time comes, I may not be around to ask it."  He fidgeted with the slide he'd been examining. 

"Don't say that!" 

"It must be said, Hoshi."  He took a deep breath and fought to drown out the alien voices that were whispering along his nerves and creeping toward his brain.  "In the very near future, T'Pol may need someone to be there for her.  If I am not here, you are the only other person she might turn to."

"What about Captain Archer?"  From what she'd seen that afternoon, it was obvious they looked to one another for support.

"No, if her need arises, he is not the one she would be able to go to."  The Doctor's quiet words shook her to her foundation. 

"But---."  In one sentence, Phlox had verified all that she'd believed about the Captain and the Sub-Commander, but it didn't sound as if he thought there was going to be a happy ending for them, either.

"Just promise me.  She is Vulcan and has no experience dealing with certain Human emotions, but I have seen evidence lately, that you are well versed in the matter. You could be a great help to her."  As Hoshi nodded her replay and fought a feeling of numb despair, he turned back to his work.

………………………..

Archer had no idea what time it was.  His body hurt and so did his soul. For the first time in his life he understood the meaning of the phrase, 'a captain under God.'  And he knew that he'd feel the weight of the responsibility for a long time to come. The fighting to keep Enterprise from being taken over by the cybernetic creatures had been vicious.  Many of the decisions he'd had to make would haunt him, but his crew had lived and that was what was important.  By some miracle even Phlox had survived the intense radiation that was necessary to kill the nanoprobes that had been injected into his body.  He knew that any Human would have died from the treatment the Denobulan had prescribed for himself.  

The whole business had been a messy one, but the final straw had been the message he'd just received from Admiral Forrest.  Someone very high up in Star Fleet had pulled some strings, and all the information Enterprise had collected on the Artic Incident, as it was being called, was to be sent back, heavily encrypted, marked top secret and compartmentalized.  Not even the Vulcans were to be told about it. Everyone on board was under orders to act as if it had never happened.

He stood up and stretched, as he reached for his uniform, but changed his mind.  He'd wandered the halls of the ship late at night in sweats and a t-shirt plenty of times, why should now be any different.  He needed to talk to T'Pol before she sent a report to the High Command, at least that was the reason he gave himself as he slipped out of his quarters and walked a few feet down the corridor to hers.

"Come in," her sleep muffled voice called out in answer to the ringing of her bell.

"I needed to talk to you."  He moved to the foot of her bed and sat down.  It may not have been his wisest choice, but he wanted to be near her and she didn't appear to object.

"How may I help you, Jonathan."  She curled her legs beneath her and sat up in bed, with the covers around her waist. 

'How could she help me?  If the situation weren't so serious I'd tell her how she could help me, all right!"  He ground his teeth as his desire for her mounted.  It may not have been such a good idea to come.  She sat, innocently covered in green silk that his hands itched to explore, and looked up at him with sleepy eyes. "I've just heard from Admiral Forrest.  It seems as if someone in Star Fleet doesn't want anyone to know what's happened out here."  He ran his hands through his hair in frustration, at both the situation and her.  'Doesn't she know what she's doing to me?'  "Don't they realize they're playing with future lives here!  This should go down in the history books in huge red letters three feet high!"

"If you truly believe that Dr. Cochrane spoke the truth about first contact, and the aliens from the future that tried to stop it, did you never wonder way he chose to remain silent on the matter?  Then when he did speak of it one time, he recanted his statement?"  After all that they had seen today, it added credit to the 89-year-old article that Jonathan had shown her, but she still was not ready to believe in time traveling aliens and Earthmen from the future, not yet anyway.

"You're talking about government suppression of facts."  He shook his head in denial.  "But this is 2153, I thought we were past all that by now.  Didn't Earth learn anything from the Third World War?"

"It is not only Earth."  She moved closer, her hand hovering over his.  "You will not need to ask me to refrain from sending a report to the High Command, because I had no plans to do so."  She read the surprise on his face and it made her stomach queasy.  "They would never believe me and it would be one more thing to tarnish the credibility of Enterprise and her captain." 

"If we keep quiet, we're setting a death trap for our children's children, and many generations after that."

"Or are we preventing a temporal paradox?"  Her brow rose as she tried to think like a Human.  "If what Cochrane said in that commencement address was true, then the timeline had been contaminated on the day of first contact.  In theory we're setting it right."

"I thought you said you don't believe in time travel?"  It always amazed him how Vulcans could turn a statement inside out to make an argument come out the way they wished, and still make it sound logical!  But when she knelt on her bed so close to him that he could almost feel the heat radiating off her body, he would have been willing to believe almost anything she had to say.  

"Jonathan, I---."  She reached for his hand and her mind was hit with a blast of heat so intense it blew down her shields and wiped away her thoughts.  Passion curled in her stomach and danced over her skin.  Her mind fought to clear, to find some remnant of a barrier to hide behind as the wildness shook her to her foundation.  

"T'Pol?" He pulled his hand free and reached for her shoulders in an attempt to reassure her.  He felt as if he was drowning in her nearness, but his worry for her outweighed his own needs.

"No, Jonathan."  She whispered as she licked her dry lips and shrank back, breaking all contract between them.  Slowly her mental shields began to reassert themselves, but they were wobbly, and she knew if he touched her again, they would never survive it. "Please Jonathan, I am tired," she whispered.  "We can finish this discussion in the morning?"

He watched her face as she fought to gain control and almost lost.  Emotions danced through her eyes and it felt as if they grazed his skin.  "Can we?"  His words caught in his throat as he tried to understand what she was really saying.

"Of course," her voice steadied. "We can discuss Dr. Cochrane anytime you wish."

"Dr. Cochrane?"  Jonathan nodded, as his suspicions were confirmed.  She was still hiding from him and herself.  But for one moment he'd looked her full in the face and his feelings had been mirrored there.  Then the moment was gone, hidden behind her Vulcan mask, a mask that was getting harder and harder for her to rebuild.  

Long after he left, T'Pol huddled in the corner, watching the stars as Enterprise moved through space.  She kept telling herself to get up and meditate, but her body was too tired to listen to her mind.  She could only guess at what had happened between them and none of the answers she came up with were logical or possible according to what she had been taught. She would have given a great deal to speak to an older Vulcan woman, but that was not a possibility, so she needed to find the answers herself, not even Phlox could help her with this. 

…………………….

It took them two days to repair the damages to Enterprise that the fight with the cybernetic beings had caused. Days that were spent traveling at low warp while anyone, with the knowledge to do so, helped overhaul the EPS manifold, and the surrounding circuits and boards.  Archer complied with Star Fleet and sent back all the information they had gathered on the beings and gave strict orders to his crew to forget the incident ever happened. 

Jonathan and T'Pol never did finish their conversation about Zephram Cochrane.  He hadn't expected they would, because the important things that had been said between them had had nothing to do with the legendary inventor.  Archer took the advice he'd given Trip about Hoshi. In his case it was to step back and give T'Pol all the time and space she needed.  He knew with a certainty that if he pushed her she would bolt and be gone from his life forever.  Whether what had happened had been wishful thinking, a trick of the light, or a moment of truth, he didn't know, but he planned on finding out and if she left, he'd never get the answers he needed.

…………………………

On Earth, Quinton Williams gathered together his purloined data and slipped away into the night. The only calling card he left was an explosion that rocked the Artic, causing avalanche after avalanche, which buried the dig site and the surrounding area under tons of ice and snow.  It wasn't until later that Star Fleet discovered its computers had been purged of any reference to the beings or the site. What happened to the information, no one knew. What happened to Williams, no one was ever sure.  Those who knew him well enough to care, were relieved he was gone. The others didn't miss the quiet faceless man he'd become.

Over the years, rumors would float back to Star Fleet about sightings, and strange occurrences, but no one believed it was anything of importance. Even when his legacy of silent power had grown to the point it was almost unstoppable, most refused to believe in a secret organization of that magnitude. Since power and secrecy tended to feed on itself, there was no warning left behind for future generations of the death and destruction that was growing with each new species it assimilated, until one day it would move quietly out of the Delta Quadrant and strike.

………………………….

The evening before repairs to Enterprise were completed, Ensign Mayweather and T'Pol discovered a comet with a meandering orbit.  They spent hours at the main computer running equations simulating its track through the universe for the next 100 years.  Late that night Archer went to the Mess for coffee and discovered them with their heads bent over a map that Travis had made when he was a child.

"If our calculations are correct, the comet will skim past Beta Magellan in about five years."  Travis grinned as he made light crosshatch marks on his map.

"They are correct, Ensign."  The Sub-Commander sipped her tea, as she examined the paper in front of her.  "The planets shown here are all the ones you plan to visit?"

"Yes Ma'am," he grinned.  Both were unaware of the Captain watching them from the door.  "I made this map when I was growing up.  When I was a teenager, I added more and more star systems.  My mom saved it for me, all these years, and gave it to me when I was visiting a few weeks ago."  He rolled his eyes at the odd things moms did, but he was glad she had.  "I just wished I could've found the poem my sister gave me when I started making this map."

"Is it about star charts?"  Thanks to Hoshi, T'Pol was learning more and more about Earth literature, but her knowledge of poetry was limited.  The High Command found such writing frivolous and therefore diplomats only read enough to speak with knowledge, when attending functions sponsored by a Human host.

"No Ma'am."  Travis smiled at her and tried to remember as much as he could of the poem.  "It's called Roadways, and is written by the English poet, John Masefield.  My favorite lines are the ones I remember the best.  'My road calls me, lures me, West east, south and north, Most roads lead men homeward, My road leads me forth.'  It was written about the sea, but it could've been written about space travel."

"'Most roads lead men homeward, My road leads me forth.'"  T'Pol let the words play across her tongue.  "You are correct, Ensign, it could have been."  It could have been written about her, too, but it was not something she could tell anyone.  The longer she spent on the Earth ship, the less she thought about Vulcan.

………………………..

Enterprise had tracked the comet for three days, when they discovered a large unmarked density.  It had nothing to do with the comet, but could be a find of much greater interest.  Archer was convinced it was a patch of dark matter, maybe even a nebula, though his Science Officer argued against it.

"Hoshi, would you have Trip come into my office."  Archer called over the COM.  He'd received a message from Admiral Forrest fifteen minutes earlier, which had brought the speculation of the existence of the nebula to a halt. 

T'Pol had returned to her station and watched as the Commander left the bridge.  Something had happened, and it had to do with Captain Archer.  She knew it, but she could not explain how she had come by the information.  She tried to remain busy, but her mind kept straying back to the closed office door.

"Malcolm," the odd inflection in Trip's voice when he reappeared on the bridge, made everyone look up.  "The Captain wants you to have a Shuttlepod ready in two hours. He's gonna explore the dark matter ahead. If ya need me, I'll be in the docking bay modifying some spatial charges with metreon particle warheads."

Trip took two involuntary steps toward Hoshi, whose eyes hadn't left his face since he came out of the office.  When she looked quickly down, he stopped and shook his head.  'Damn I need you Darlin,' he gripped his fists to keep from going any further.  It was clear she still didn't want anything to do with him.  He was upset over the death of a friend and this was no time to push her, or he'd lose her for sure. T'Pol had sat as a silent spectator of the interplay between the two younger people, but she was still caught off guard when Commander Tucker walked quietly over to her.

"Sub-Commander."  He spoke just above a whisper, and she could read emotions of loss and worry on his face.  "I need a favor.  It's for the Cap'n really.  He's had some bad news.  Could you go with him to explore the area of density ahead?"

"I do not understand."  She was unprepared for the request.  The last thing she wanted to do was spend hours alone in a small shuttle with Jonathan Archer.  It was too dangerous to her newly constructed mental shields.  

"A colleague of ours died, and Jon's takin' it pretty hard."  Trip cleared his throat

"I would think as his friend, you would be the more appropriate one to go along."

"I offered, but he turned me down flat."  Trip smiled sadly.  "He says he wants to do this alone."

"Then we should respect his wishes."  She could see the fault in her argument, though it was a statement of pure logic.  

"No, not this time.  He'd be better off with someone there.  Jon and Cap'n Robinson went back a long way, but I don't suppose that's somethin' a Vulcan can understand."  Trip shrugged as he fought his doubts about the woman, because he believed it would be the best thing for his friend.  "Someone should go along with him, and I think you're the one who will do him the most good."  

"I----."  She was not sure what to say.  Every logical voice inside of her told her it would be an unwise move.

"Please."  He looked over his shoulder to be sure Archer was still in his office.  "I know you're the one he talks to." There, he'd said the words out loud.  Somehow it made the changes in his relationship with his friend easier to accept.  All during the final year of Enterprise's construction and the first few months of the mission, it had been the two of them, and then things had begun to change. Trip had finally realized that they'd both gone past the point where the most important person in your life was your buddy.  Somewhere in the last 130 light years, they'd grown up and that meant into adult relationships with women.  Never before had either man had a woman in his life who couldn't be left behind at a moments notice, now it seemed like both of them were on the brink of changing all that.

"All right, Commander."  She gave in, against her better judgment.  "If you really think it is necessary.

"I really do, Sub-Commander, it's just that I'm not sure how you're gonna convince him of that."  Tucker frowned at the problem.  

"I believe I have a plan that will leave him no choice but to let me join him."  She looked at him with eyes as innocent as a babe's.  "You are familiar with Star Fleet's rule that a captain may not leave his ship unaccompanied?" 

"There's no such rule."  Trip challenged.

"Are you sure, Commander?"  T'Pol raised her brow in skepticism.  "I believe there is, or perhaps it is a Vulcan directive.  I would have to look it up, but that would take hours of digging through the database. Since Captain Archer is in a hurry to depart, I'll assume, for the sake of protocol, that it is Star Fleet's. Therefore it is necessary I should join him.  If he disagrees with me, when I board his craft, I'll offer him the option of checking."

"Aaahh…" He grinned.  "I've always known you were a devious woman, Sub-Commander, I just never appreciated how devious before."

"There is a difference between a logical plan that is executed with precision and being devious, Commander Tucker."  She nodded and turned back to her work.

"Well I guess I been told."  He muttered to himself, as he headed for the lift.  He didn't care what she called it; devious was devious, even if it was done with logic!  

………………………

Two hours later Jonathan Archer found his Shuttlepod invaded by a Vulcan, armed with sensor enhancements, and logical arguments.  When he gave up with nothing more than token resistance, he told himself it had been easier and wasted less time that way.  He ignored the calming affect her presence had on his troubled mind, and blocked out how pleased he was that she obviously knew he was upset and wanted to help him.  If he didn't know better, he'd swear she was there to give emotional support.

As she closed and locked the Shuttlepod door, T'Pol could feel Jonathan's sorrow echoing off the walls, but it had a strange quality to it, almost as if he was trying to keep it in.  She watched his face carefully, and because she knew him so well, she saw the unhappiness, but to others he would appear only serious and introspective.  She told herself it was not healthy for a Human to keep such a tight control over his emotions, and that was the reason she had offered to let him join her in meditation.  After all she was Vulcan and would never worry about an individual, it was not in her nature.

When Jonathan began to talk of his friend AG Robinson and the early days of the NX Test Program, T'Pol lowered her mental shields slightly.  She discovered, that unlike the last few times they had been alone together, there was no mind shaking resonance, just a gentle familiar presence.  It made her wonder if it had been there at all, or if it had been just another of the bad dreams and odd turns of imagination, which she kept telling herself were a result of some minor damage from the Pa'nar Syndrome and her battle to fend off the Wisp.

During the long flight, she was very careful not to touch him, even when she knew he would have benefited from it, as he had when he had been so upset over the Vissian Cogenitor's death.  She remained strong in her resolve until the moment when she stared out the view screen and the universe in front of them exploded in color that appeared to go on forever. It did not help that she was leaning close to him and could smell the warm male fragrance of him. For a moment she did not care about the vista in front of her, she turned and watched Jonathan as he watched the sight he had competed against Robinson for the right to see. She was glad he had called her back from her workstation to share this with him.  

"T'Pol," he whispered, as he slid over in the pilot's seat to make room for her.  "Come here?  You can see better."  His hand spread against the contour of her back as he guided her from the uncomfortable position of leaning over beside him, to the crowded one of sharing his seat. He turned toward her and found green eyes that matched the intensity of his own.

For a moment she stiffened and felt his arm loosen around her.  He had given her a choice; to stay or pull way, it was up to her.  Without thinking, she sighed and leaned back against him, her shoulder over-lapping his, and her arm rested on his thigh with her hand curled lightly against his knee.  Under her left ear, she felt the reassuring thud of his carotid artery.  It echoed through her body as she leaned back and let him support her weight.

Every time T'Pol peeked around her mental shields, her mind saw explosions of color that took her breath away.  She had no frame of reference for what was happening, but was sure there were unbridled emotions running wild and free beneath the color.  She was careful and knew it was in her best interest to keep her shields carefully in place. If it had not been for the foundation of trust that she had formed with the man who held her, she would have bolted to the other side of the shuttle and stayed there.

Time had no meaning as they watched the colors of excited dark matter that wrapped the little Shuttlepod in a cocoon of unimaginable beauty and bound the two who watched it one step closer to their destiny.  Neither knew who was the first to come to his senses or the first to pull away.  It was as if a decision was made and they both acted upon it. 

"A most interesting phenomena."  T'Pol whispered as she stood and moved to her seat.  She ignored the sudden chill she felt when her body was no longer pressed against his.  She would have felt the change in air temperature no differently if she had removed a jacket or blanket. And the echo of loss that sounded through her thoughts was no more than residual of the Captain's pain that had leaked through her mental shields due to close contact. 

"Yes, indeed, it was."  Jon smiled and silently thanked AG Robinson for one final parting gift. He knew his friend would have enjoyed the irony of Archer caring about a Vulcan and been even more amused to lend a helping hand in the unusual match. 

The trip back to Enterprise was accomplished in silence. Something had happened to shift the relationship between Jonathan and T'Pol. Neither was quite sure what it was, but both knew that as long as they were isolated in the small craft, it was a real tangible thing.  Both looked at it with a sense of accomplishment and neither was aware the other had felt it as well.

……………………

'Robinson Nebula, now why didn't I think of that myself. Probably because you kept me too distracted.'  Jonathan shook his head as he watched the straight slim back of his Science Officer move quickly away from him.  'Will you never stop amazing me?'  As he thought about the times they had shared together, he hoped to God not!

"Jon, you all right?"  Trip came up behind his friend, who was standing staring off down the corridor. 

"Sure, just thinking." He shrugged and hoped his face didn't give away too much.

"About Cap'n Robinson?"

"And other things. T'Pol helped me put it in perspective."  Jonathan nodded.  "AG once told me that Humans wouldn't be able to turn to the Vulcans every time they needed something unless we brought one along with us.  Looks like I did just that."  He laughed at the memory.  "I'm glad I did.  Both at the beginning of the mission, and this time."

"What da ya mean?  It's a Star Fleet regulation, ya had to take someone along, who better than you're Science Officer."  Trip figured the Cap'n might not be angry with T'Pol for pulling a fast one, but he might think differently about his Chief Engineer.

"Come on Trip, pull the other one!"  He shook his head.  Did people really think he was that naive?  "AG and I had a hand in writing those rules.  We figured one or the other of us was going to be commanding this ship, and we wanted to give ourselves some leeway."

Trip laughed.  The Sub-Commander was wrong, there was no difference between being devious and making a logical plan and executing it with precision.  It was nice to discover that it wasn't something that only the Vulcans were good at.

……………………….

T'Pol sat in calm silence in her quarters.  The time spent with Jonathan Archer had been fulfilling.  If she were Human, she would have smiled at the success of the venture.  His pain had been eased, with no mental cost to her.  Unlike many times in the past when she and the Captain had been alone together, there had been no jagged, disharmony that shattered her peace of mind.  

It was only as sleep overtook her that she had a nagging memory of the deep animal emotions that had lurked beneath the surface of the calm.  But she dismissed them as Human grief for a friend who had died.  That dealt with, she turned over and slept.  For the first time in a long while, no dreams invaded her mind.  Instead she had a strong image of curling up against something secure and warm, which knocked down her mental shields and wrapped itself around her, until it became a part of her being.  Sometime in the very early morning, the words of the poem that she had head recently invaded her sleep. Most roads lead men homewards, My road leads me forth.   As her unconscious mind shifted closer to the unknown security it had found, she muttered, "But we are home and you will always lead me forth."     

TO BE CONTINUED

PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW IF YOU ENJOYED THIS!

Roadways

One road leads to London,

One road runs to Wales,

My road leads me seawards,

To the white dipping sails.

One road leads to the river,

As it goes singing slow;

My road leads me to shipping,

Where the bronzed sailors go.

Leads me lures me, calls me,

To salt green tossing sea;

A road without earth's road-dust

Is the right road for me.

A wet road heaving, shining

And wild with seagulls' cries.

A mad salt sea-wind blowing

The salt spray in my eyes.

My road calls me, lures me

West, east, south and north;

Most roads lead men homewards,

My road leads me forth.

To add more miles to the tally

Of gray miles left behind,

In quest of that one beauty

God put me here to find.

By

John Masefield


	13. Pon Farr Reconnaissance

**_Spoilers:  _**Bounty and small ones for Fusion and Stigma

**_Notes:  _**I have tried to follow the events in Bounty as they happened, but I may have gotten them out of order in places.  This was not intentional, but I needed to fit it to some sort of story, so any bending of things was for continuity of ATTDARP, and not an attempt to change what TPTB had written.

**_Double asterisks _**_**  _Will be before and after a dream or imaginary sequence.  With luck, those passages will also be in italics.

**_Pon Farr:  _**The term and the actions belong to TPTB, the explanation for what a female Vulcan experiences is my own, gleaned from bits and pieces I've seen over the years of early Trek. I know it is a hotly debated subject, but what is written here is my belief, and others are free to believe what they wish.

**_Definition:  _**The definition of the **Limbic System** is from Tabor's Cyclopedia Medical Dictionary, 15th edition.

**_Many thanks:  _**to Monica for all the advice and beta work!!!  **HUGE APOLOGIES TO MONICA for posting early.  **The material in this copy is a true example of the wonderful beta work that she does.  Due to a misunderstanding on my part, I posted before she had sent me the final draft.  Thanks again Monica, and I'm sorry for the trouble I caused you.  PC 

Ch 13 Pon Farr Reconnaissance 

****

"Hold him still Sub-Commander."  Dr. Phlox tightened his fingers on either side of the small animal's jaws in an attempt to get them opened wide enough to gather a small amount of saliva.  "I've almost got it, but he keeps wiggling!" The Doctor was pleased with their morning's work. According to The Journal Of The Interplanetary Medical Exchange the saliva they hoped to collect was a natural anticoagulant and he wanted a sample to add it to his pharmacopoeia.    

"Are you sure it is wise to place your hand so close to its mouth?" T'Pol advised and doubted the logic that had sent her on this trip in the first place. Her arms were wrapped around the small brown and orange bundle they had found in one of their snares and the animal was proving harder to control, than its size would indicate.

"Nonsense, he is a great deal like the Traycotta Bear, of Traycotta Five's second moon. They're small marsupials that live in trees and get their nourishment from the leaves and branches around them.  Harmless really, in fact the Tracottians sell a cloth copy of them, much like Earth's Koala that was the model for what I believe Humans call _a teddy bear_… Ouch!"  Phlox's lecture came an abrupt halt when the 'harmless' animal nipped him hard with its gums.  "But the article I read failed to mentioned that its jaws were so strong."  After a quick examination of his hand, he transferred the animal's saliva from his thumb and first finger to a collecting jar.  "Thank you Sub-Commander, I've gotten what I came after."

The emergency call came ten minutes later, while they were cutting their way through waist high overgrowth to get out of the ravine where they had placed their traps.  "Say again Enterprise, you are breaking up."  T'Pol's hand shook as she changed the frequency of her communicator in hope she had misunderstood Ensign Sato's message.

"The Captain's been kidnapped by an alien claiming to be a Tellerite miner."  The Communications Officer put all her energy into sounding calm and in control, when in reality her heart pounded with doubts.  Trip had been shot at the same time the Captain had been taken and though his angry voice over the COM to Malcolm had sounded normal, she knew the shuddering deep inside of her wouldn't quiet down until she saw for herself that he hadn't been hurt.

"Can you isolate his biosigns and use the…the…transporter to get him back?"  It would not be the first time she had ordered its use to extract Jonathan from a tight spot, but for some reason, the thought made her words catch in her throat.

"Sorry Ma'am, they've already gone to warp."  Hoshi had heard the odd tremor over the communicator and knew it wasn't a fluke of the device, but worry in the woman's voice. As the lift doors swooshed open and Trip moved quickly to her station, she bit her lip to keep from gasping in relief.  Then her attention was brought swiftly back to the woman on the planet's surface, when a soft Vulcan curse echoed in her ear.

"Sub-Commander," Trip Tucker leaned over Hoshi's shoulder, with one hand on the communication board and the other on the back of her chair. "Ensign Marsh's headin' down to the rendezvous site in Shuttlepod Two. He'll be pickin' up the science teams that are still 'on planet.' As soon as you all're aboard, we're goin' after em!"  Trip needed to be near Hoshi and if her expression was anything to go by, she needed him close, too. 

"We are on our way, Commander."  She had a death grip on her communicator as she blocked out the little voice in her mind that kept repeating, '_Not again, I can not do this again.'_  "Prepare to leave orbit when we dock, and keep me posted of any new developments.  T'Pol out!"

Trip looked down into Hoshi's upturned face.  He'd heard the strain in the Sub-Commander's voice and had expected to see an _'I told you so'_ gleam in the brown eyes so close to him.  But instead all he saw was worry and sorrow, which she was unable to mask.

"We'll get him back," she shuddered, as she felt his breath feather through her hair, finally adding a belated… "Sir." Her mind had wandered and for a moment, she'd forgotten her relationship with Trip was only a professional one, now. When things had fallen apart between them she'd realized the dangerous situation they'd put themselves in.    It would be hard enough letting go of the feelings she had for him, but living and working in a self-contained area as they did, made it all the more difficult. Now that they'd ended it, she planned on keeping it that way.  Maybe over time they could be friends again, _but never lovers_, she repeated to herself staunchly.

Trip took a moment to grip Hoshi's shoulder.  Whether it was to comfort him or her he didn't know.  "We sure will…Ensign."  He forced himself to move away from her as her eyes filled with pain and a haunted look that took his breath away.  He could tell she was fighting hard to keep a wall between them, and he wasn't going to make it tougher on her.  He needed all her skills operating at peak performance to help get Jon back, but later when this was over, he planned on making her listen to reason.   

………………….

During the trip back to Enterprise, T'Pol ignored the way her stomach clenched and the odd pain that threatened to tighten around her temples, which only got worse when she got the news that the damage to the starboard nacelle, inflicted by the Tellerite's weapons fire, would take at least an hour to repair.  Until that was completed, Enterprise was going nowhere.  But she had no time for strange maladies, so she forced them out of her mind, and began constructing a plan to get the Captain back, even if she would have to delay its start until the warp drive was back online, until then it gave her mind something to do.

An hour later, when the ship went to warp, instead of sitting in Captain Archer's chair on the bridge, with her eyes pinned to the forward screen, T'Pol was still in Decon.  She and Phlox had picked up a microbe.  The usual dose of theta radiation, which was standard procedure when returning from a mission, did nothing to eradicate it, and until something was found that did, she and the doctor were stuck where they were.

She chaffed at the necessity of confinement to the small room, when all she wanted to do was take action. If she had not gripped her hands into fists and held them tightly at her sides, she would have pounded them on the door as her mind shouted out, _'Jonathan where are you?_' With a start she realized she had picked up the Human habit of _'worrying'_. Taking a deep breath she unclenched her fingers and applied Vulcan determination to wall off emotions and gain control of her thoughts. It was not until much later that she realized that it took her an inordinate amount of time to regain her focus.

……………………….

The first thing Jonathan Archer was aware of was that his head felt like it would explode.  The next was that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move.  _'Oh yeah, phase pistol blast.' _ His memory was coming slowly back, but until things made more sense, instinct told him to lie quietly.

'_T'Pol?'  _His mind screamed her name. She had called out to him, he was sure of it. But only silence greeted him.  Ever since the morning he'd awakened in Sickbay, after being held by the Klingons, he'd felt her as almost a constant presence. He'd figured that was because he'd finally admitted to himself that he was in love with her, but as his mind reached for the warmth that he'd come to associate with her, it felt cold and distant with an undercurrent of fear.  He tried again to move, but pain shot through his body and all he could do was moan as he turned over.

……………………….__

"Are you sure this is approved for use on Vulcans?"  T'Pol called through the drape that separated her from the doctor. As she had applied Decon Gel E, her skin had begun to feel strange. Watching mesmerized she could almost feel it moving through her dermis and into her bloodstream. Her arms, legs, and belly glistened with an unusual sheen and they were sensitive to touch. If she did not know better, she would be sure she could feel it shiver on a molecular level.  A part of her wondered if this was what Humans meant when they said something made their skin tingle. 

"Of course Sub-Commander."  He rolled his eyes at her odd question.  "I picked it up at the IME meeting on Dekendee III, from the Vulcan medical contingency.  It was one of the few exhibits I was able to visit before…well before…I was asked to leave the convention. Why do you ask?" He was sure she remembered the circumstances of his aborted medical conference. That had been where he'd approached the Vulcans about research on Pa'nar Syndrome, and it'd been discovered that she suffered from it.

When his question was greeted by silence on the other side of the privacy curtain, he became worried. "Why do you ask?"  Phlox repeated. "Is there a problem Sub-Commander?"  He was a bit shy, and peeked through the drapes that separated them.  To his surprise, he found her staring off into the distance, with one foot on the deck and the other resting on the bench, while her right hand gently rubbed the length of her thigh.

"T'Pol?"  He lightly touched her elbow.

"Yes, Doctor."  She blinked and turned, with both brows raised and an odd expression on her face.

"Are you all right?"  He frowned; her behavior was not what he would have expected, so he reached for his medical scanner.

"I am perfectly fine, Doctor."  She pushed his hand away. Something was wrong and whatever it was, she wanted to deal with it before the physician discovered it. So she told him the first thing that came to mind. "I was concentrating on how to get Jonathan back."

He looked her over carefully.  Her eyes were brighter than usual, but that could be a trick of the decon lights, and she seemed easily distracted, but he knew she and the Captain were close.  Her very unVulcan-like use of Jonathan Archer's first name told him that she was in trouble.  Whether it was due to illness or not was another matter.  He decided to let it go for the moment, but planned on keeping an eye on her.  Either way she was going to need his support.

"I could use your assistance."  He shoved aside the curtain and turned his back, indicating an area he couldn't reach with the gel.  

T'Pol blinked in an effort to refocus her mind. She did not understand what had happened to her.  One moment she had been carefully applying the Gel to her leg, the next her mind had begun to wander.  She had had an intense memory of Jonathan.  His face had been very close to hers and in her mind she had felt the length of his naked body pressing hers into the bed.  She shook her head to get rid of the memory and the ringing in her ears that had sounded like he was whispering a warning, _'you must not remember. The timeline must remain unchanged.'_

Her hand gripped the jar of decon gel as she realized the tricks her mind was playing on her.  _It_ _could not be a memory!_  She had never been with Jonathan or any male like that.  With renewed effort, she concentrated on applying gel to Phlox's back.  She needed to get out of the confines of Decon, and then she would deal with whatever was happening to her.

But the blue gel's odor made her feel lightheaded.  It had an unusual consistency and the feel of it on her palm was strange, as she carefully covered the doctor's back with it. _**Somewhere deep inside, her actions felt familiar.  The skin beneath her hand became Human instead of Denobulan.  Gone were the Doctor's unusual spinal ridges and T'Pol felt the warmth of lightly tanned, slightly freckled skin, which covered well defined muscles. As she ran her thumb up, over each vertebra, sensations vibrated from her fingertips to her soul.  She was sure that if she reached around to his chest, she would feel springy dark golden hairs that curled and tickled her palm.  She was intrigued by the man her mind had placed under her touch.   Leaning forward she breathed deeply searching for the scent she longed for. Her eyes fluttered closed and her mind whispered,  'Jonathan.'**_

The rumble that always accompanied Enterprise going to maximum warp shook through the deck plating.  It was as if someone had thrown a bucket of water on T'Pol. She pulled back suddenly, as the completely foreign feeling of fear shot through her. '_The scent was_ _wrong, the man was wrong.'_  What was happening to her?  It took every fiber of concentration she processed, not to bolt from the room and head for the bridge.  She needed to know what was happening!  She needed to help in the search. 

'_Jonathan!' _Her mind cried out as she fought for control. Why was she responding so strangely?  One moment she had been listening with detached professionalism to Phlox haltingly discuss Denobulan male-female cultural differences, while she covered his back with decon gel. The next her mind had taken her back months ago, to when she and Archer had been the ones going through decon together.  They had spent hours trying to rid themselves of an unknown microbe, but it had been nothing like the image her head had constructed. _Where were these odd pictures of him coming from? Was this a new form of flashback from the Wisp induced dreams she had been having? _ They had all centered on him, but this one was vivid and brought a flush of heat that none of the others had.

_'I am Vulcan.  My mind is in control of my emotions,'_ she thought as she handed over the decon gel and turned her back to allow Phlox access to the areas she could not reach.  "When you are finished, I should like to meditate while we wait."  She reinforced the request by concentrating on a mental image of a brightly lit candle.  '_Focus on the fire within the flame.'  _The age-old words that always accompanied the beginning of Vulcan meditation, chanted through her mind, and for the first time since she had heard that the Captain had been abducted, she began to relax. She was able to block out the odd sensations of heat and cold caused by the decon gel and concentrate on rebuilding her fallen mental shields.

Suddenly canon fire throbbed through Enterprise's superstructure, and what was left of T'Pol's shields came crashing down. Any small space of peace she had created for herself was shattered, along with the Doctor's prediction,_ 'that all was going well and that Commander Tucker had everything under control.'_

 "Stop that!"  She growled over her shoulder to Phlox and quickly moved to the wall communicator.  "I must find out what happened.  The Commander would not open fire unless he was provoked!"

"Sub-Commander, no."  He blocked her path.  "Your most important job, at the moment, is to get rid of the pathogen, so when the time comes you can be of help to Captain Archer."  The naked emotion that played across her face caught the Doctor by surprise.  There was more going on than T'Pol was leading him to believe.  "Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed will take care of things. Until then, your idea of meditation is a excellent one."

………………………

**_90 MINUTES LATER:_**

As hard as she had tried, T'Pol had been unable to reach a meditative state. After the canon had fired, the least little thing proved to be too much of a distraction.  She was running a fever and she knew it, but more importantly, so did Dr. Phlox.  _'Now he will never let me out of Sickbay, let alone Decon!'_ She grumbled to herself as he touched her neck with a hypospray filled with a calming agent.  She had matched wills with him in an effort to get to her quarters and had lost.  It had not helped that she had lost control of her temper in the process. Phlox had gotten a display of how much trouble she was having suppressing her emotions.  Now he was more determined than ever to keep her where she was.

Lying on the deck she felt the medication begin to take affect.  Her mind began to swim, as layer after layer of fog slithered through her thoughts, but instead of being soothing, it leeched her will and left her vulnerable to unaccustomed attacks of feelings.  She tossed slightly and turned as heat flashed from deep within, feeding a passion that fought to be free.  Phlox had tricked her. His calming agent was in reality a sedative, and it stripped her of defenses she had counted on since she was a child.  She was left with no weapon against her own worst nightmares.  With the last of her will gone, she fought a losing battle to remain conscious, but lost that as well, and with it went any small amount of mental control that had remained, until she found herself walking alone in a fog of emotions.

_**It was as if she was a spectator and a participant in the drama that was playing out in her mind. Coursing through it all were intense feelings, instead of the usual cool detachment that was so much a part of her. Tonight it was as if she were diving through fire. Her head fell back and she sniffed the air.  The hot dry scent of a Vulcan desert night filled her nostrils.  The sky above was crowded with stars and she was on an open area surrounded by small hills.  In the distance she heard the approach of ceremonial bells and could make out the blurry figures of a procession._

_Fog swirled in among the heat, blinding T'Pol momentarily.  When she could see again, the procession had become a circle, where two males were fighting in an ancient arena.  Deep in her Vulcan heart she knew it was a fight to the death and it made her blood boil and sing because she was the prize they fought over. When the bells began again she knew that only one lived.  She could hear his deep breathing and the sound if his footsteps, but the fog would not clear to let her see his face.  Shivering in heat and fear she backed away from the oncoming male, his outline was wrong!  Suddenly a breeze blew away the fog and she saw a body lying crumpled in a pool of red red blood.  Its neck was broken and lifeless green eyes pierced her soul.  Her stomach clenched and she felt her heart rip in two!_

_'Jonathan,' she gasped as she ran toward the fallen Human._

_'No, you are mine now!' A large hand grabbed her arm and pulled her up short, while another hand reached for pressure points on her face.  'I have fought the Earther for you and you are mine.  This time I am the victor!'  Tolaris grinned at her as he pulled her into his arms, and began a mind meld that had no end.** _

T'Pol fought her way up through a bank of medicated fog, to finally break the surface of consciousness.  She was panting in fear and desire, while longing burned deep in her body, but the horror of what she had dreamt made her shiver as if she were incased in ice.  She wrapped her arms around herself and felt tears fill her eyes as she whispered, "Jonathan what have I done to you?"

Blinking she realized she was in Decon, not on Vulcan and what had happened was only a dream.  She brushed the unaccustomed tears off her cheeks and shook her head in denial. _'I feel nothing for him, after all he is Human and I am_ _Vulcan!_ _This is_ _only a product of the fever.'_  But even as she tried to convince herself of it, her body betrayed her and she shivered at the memory of his touch, of what it had been like to waken in his arms, with his scent all around her.

"No, this can not be!" She whispered to the sleeping figure of the Doctor, as a frightening idea began to form.  All the signs and symptoms were there, only the cause was missing.  "Somehow the fever must have triggered it." She muttered as she tried to find logic in a world that had suddenly burst into flames. It was Pon Farr! She should have recognized the symptoms sooner.

Every Vulcan child was taught the facts of reproduction of the species, but it was an aspect of life that was never mentioned to Outworlders. Males experienced it for the first time, during their 20th year after final maturation. A female was luckier, and was only forced to endure a lighter, less intense version, which was a reflection of her bondmate's. Scent was the key for a Vulcan female, the intoxicating scent given off by the male whose mind hers was bound to at the time of his Pon Farr. In ancient times before Vulcans followed a path of logic, a female who did not wish to honor her family's bond agreement could choose another as her challenger. When that happened, the males in question were said to fight to the death for the right to be bound to the female. But even in those wild and chaotic times, there was no mention of the mating urge being caused by a pathogen!

T'Pol dug her nails into her palms, as she tried to focus enough to think clearly. She knew that in the weeks preceding a male's Pon Farr, which occurred once every seven years, his scent changed subtly.  These changes were picked up by specialized olfactory receptors lining the inner membranes of his bondmate's nose, activating hormonal changes in her body. By the time the male was in full heat, his mate was fertile and as obsessed with reproduction as he.

"This cannot be, but it is the only answer for what I am feeling.  I must mate or die."  T'Pol muttered as a new wave of desire and heat surged through her body. She raised her face and almost smiled as she watched Phlox sleeping on the bench beside her.  "Of course," she whispered as she looked down at him.  "Any male will do."  '_That would keep Jonathan safe and it would be a relationship that I could dismiss as easily as I enter into it_.'  Kneeling she moved closer to the sleeping Denobulan and began rubbing her hand over his neck to wake him. 

……………………….

Archer gripped his fists and paced his cell.  He wasn't going to give up without a fight, but the outcome didn't look good.  There was so much he had wanted to do, and now it looked like the only place he was going was to Qo'noS, to the Klingons and death.  He made a silent vow that he'd never reveal T'Pol's part in his escape, no matter what they did to him.  Let them think what they liked, without his testimony she and those who helped her were safe. 

The knot in his chest loosened and he began to breathe easily, when it struck him that his primary worry had been her.  He knew he loved her and had for a while.  But the day she went with him to explore the dark matter nebula, after he'd gotten the news that his friend A.G. Robinson had died, something had happened between them that was almost unexplainable.  For a while, as they had shared the pilot's seat and had watched the beauty of the metreon particles exciting the dark matter into a rainbow of colors, he'd felt her responding to him.  It made no sense from a Human standpoint, but he didn't care.  It had been as if her mind had reached out and touched his, and it hadn't been the first time it had happened either, but it was the most intense.

Sitting in his cell, he knew that she wasn't aware of what was happening between them.  He smiled to himself when he realized she'd probably run like crazy if she were, or come after him with a phase pistol.  Maybe he was safer with the Klingons? Phlox had already given him one lecture on the dangers of waking the sleeping emotions of a Vulcan. Just before his reverie was interrupted by weapons fire, he thought he heard the unmistakable laugh of AG Robinson whispering, _'who do you think you're kidding, Jonny? You know you want her, go for it.  What a prize my friend, what a prize!'_

…………………………………..

He had pushed her away! She could not believe it!  After all he was Denobulan, an inferior species, and she a Vulcan, had offered to mate with him!  Had the entire universe gone insane?  She had even gone so far as to tell him about her need to mate, making it his medical duty as ship's physician to help her! But it had done her no good.  _'What she had_ _told him about Pon Farr was not a lie, exactly,' _she assured herself. '_After all it was her_ _first time._ _She had told him that as well, but given her state, who could blame her if she had_ _neglected the whys behind it all. Everything else was the truth_,' she rationalized. _'If this pathogen induced Pon Farr followed the natural course she would die unless she mated.'_

"So you see it is necessary that you and I mate."  She moved closer to him and ran her hands up his chest in another attempt to seduce him.

"It is neither necessary nor advisable."  Phlox gripped her wrists and guided her to a corner to sit.  "You work on meditation, while I work on finding an antidote to our problem."

  
"Phlox, please!"  She cried out as if in physical pain.

"T'Pol you'd hate me, and yourself, in the morning.  This is not the answer, and if you think about it for a moment you'll realize it."

"Vulcans do not hate," she wheedled as she sauntered closer to him and brushed against his side.

"They don't do a lot of things I've seen you do in the last few hours, T'Pol."  He gripped her shoulders to keep her at arms length.  "But the answer is still no!  I'm not the man you want and we both know it.  You want-----." 

"I want food!"  She cried out as she pulled her hands over her ears to keep from hearing anything more he had to say.  "Can't you see I'm _hungry_?"  Her big green eyes swam and her body quivered, while an animal voice deep inside of her cried out for _'Jonathan!'_

"Dinner will be here very soon."  Phlox gently gripped her wrists and pulled them away from her ears.  "You're going to be all right T'Pol."  It was the only way he could apologize for almost saying the very sensitive truth he knew she didn't want to hear. "You sit down and relax, and I'll get back to work."  He smiled reassuringly. "I think the saliva we brought back is the key to a serum.  From the tests I've run so far, I know the marsupials were infected, but weren't sick. It should only take a few more hours."

"I can not wait that long."  T'Pol whispered in anxiety.  "When there is a much easier solution at hand."

"Has it ever occurred to you that the simple solution you suggest may be no help?"  Phlox looked her right in the eyes.  "From what you said, you are not ready to be going through this Pon Farr.  Since it is microbe induced, there is the chance it will only go away when the microbe does.  If your present state gets to be too much of a strain on you, I can always sedate you again."

"Nooooo!"  She cried out in fear.  "No, please, no more sedation."  She pulled back into a corner and fought the memories of the dream she had had.  Jonathan dead in a death match for her, beaten by Tolaris, the thought made her want to gag.  

She fought her demons for as long as she could.  There were emotions erupting all through her and she could not suppress them.  Phlox had gone to the next room because someone had brought their food. She could smell it as it was slipped through into Decon. It made her mouth water and her stomach growl with hunger.  Leaping to her feet, she followed the fragrances, until she saw Commander Tucker standing on the other side of the thick sterile pass-through, and Phlox holding two covered dishes.

She glared at the Commander and grabbed her dish from the Doctor.  As soon as she flipped the lid off, she began eating the green vegetables with her fingers.  Somewhere a memory surfaced.  She had done this before and it had been very pleasurable.  _'Popcorn,'_ it had been popcorn that she had eaten with her fingers. She and Jonathan did it every movie night. She smiled to herself as she thought how their fingers always met while digging in the shared bowl, for more of the crunchy Earth treat, while sitting in a dark room.  Her mind shivered in excitement, as she pictured his wonderful hands as they did so many things, picking up a padd, wrapped around a glass, holding he_r… 'Yes he had wonderful hands….'_

She looked over her shoulder and the smug look on Commander Tucker's face pulled her mind away from Jonathan.  It grated on her nerves and she wanted to yell at the silly Human.  Even as she stuffed her mouth, she glared at him, until Phlox pushed her back and closed the Decon door, blocking him from her view.  Another memory was eating at her, one that was not pleasant.  It was of coming face to face with Hoshi in the lift.  The younger woman's face had been covered with tears and it had been because of Tucker!  T'Pol gritted her teeth and swore in Vulcan.  As Phlox opened the doors she looked over his shoulder, but the young man was gone!  Her anger rose until it was unstoppable!

"That p'tagh made Hoshi cry!"  She shouted as she pulled back her arm and threw what was left of her dinner, plate and all, at the window where Trip had been standing.  The rush of power that followed made her glow.

"T'Pol!"  Phlox ducked and stared at her in shock.  Her plate whizzed past his head with only a few inches to spare.   It hit the bulkhead with a thud and clattered on the deck, leaving a trail of food running down the hatch and window, until goo dripped into a puddle on the floor.  "That was uncalled for!"  She had caught him completely by surprise; not just by her act of violence, but the use of back-ally Klingon was most out of character!

"Well he did!  I saw it." Her lip quivered at the memory. "He hurt her or she never would have cried."  She lifted her hands to run them through her hair in frustration, then realized they were full of bits and pieces of food.  "I should have thrown it at his head!"  

Her anger burned itself out as swiftly as it had begun, and she was left staring at her hands.  In her mind she could see Jonathan licking his fingers, after eating popcorn.  She closed her eyes and her body shuddered as she imagined his tongue methodically cleaning her skin.  "Why did he use his handkerchief?"  She whispered as she remembered what had happened that night, and slowly brought her fingers to her mouth.  One at a time she sucked them clean, experiencing a sensual high that blurred her vision and made her unsure of where she was.

Phlox watched fascinated for a moment, unsure of what was happening, but whatever it was, it was keeping his wild Vulcan occupied for a while.  He shook his head in wonder.  T'Pol was one of the most grounded, logical beings he'd ever had the pleasure of working with, but the last few hours had shown him a completely different side to her.  He knew she was fighting an obsession with Archer, even if she wouldn't let him verbalize it, he just hoped it wasn't something he had caused, because there had been a time when he'd done his best to push the two of them together.  After seeing this new side to Vulcans, he doubted his wisdom!

Food had helped, it had made her sleepy, and so she rested in a corner, under the blue lights of Decon, fighting to gain some control of her mind.  Every feeling that she had learned to submerge was jumping to life and shaking her to her foundation. And with them came memories, clear and enticing, too many of them about Jonathan Archer.

She refused to examine why he was the center of her fantasies. That he was, and that he was Human, was enough to push her to the panic level, whenever she gave it too much thought.  Suddenly she felt trapped! _She had to get out of Decon.  She had to get free_.  If Phlox would not help her, maybe someone out there would, anyone to put a band-aide on her feelings so she could be herself again. "Only Jonathan, only him." She began to mutter in ancient Vulcan what her heart was feeling, only to be answered by the memory of Tolaris killing him.  She gasped as she muttered again in that same language, "but never Jonathan, never him, it would mean his death!" 

"Nooooo, I have to get out of here!"  She did not know how she did it, but one minute she was burning up with heat and desire, the next she was fighting Phlox, to keep him from giving her another sedative.  She knew she had to break free.  If she let him sedate her again, Jonathan would die!  She had to get away and find someone who would help her. The crew was two-thirds male, one of them would help her. Then Jonathan would be safe from Tolaris and she would be safe from them both!

Working quickly she ripped and tore at metal and wiring until sparks flew, shorting out the locking device. Then she used all her fever-enhanced strength to force the door open. When she was free, she ran barefoot, through the halls of Enterprise, her heart pounding as she gasped for breath.  '_At last at last, now if I could only run fast enough and far enough to leave the heat behind.'_  She whimpered, as she looked frantically for help.

Malcolm and his two-man team searched the corridors looking for Sub-Commander T'Pol.  They were dressed in environmental suits and carried phase pistols.  He had ordered them set on stun because Dr. Phlox had explained that T'Pol was acting irrationally, but he knew it was going to be tough on the person who actually had to pull the trigger, if she couldn't be talked back to Decon.

Five minutes later he had cornered her in an intersection on D Deck.  The second she began babbling he turned off the intercom on his suit.  He hadn't wanted to take a chance on any of his men overhearing what the Sub-Commander was saying.  It was obvious the Doctor was correct and she was out of her head. Her actions would be hard for a human to live down, let alone a Vulcan.  He was a man who should know, given what the Wisp who had inhabited his body had done.  He guessed it was only fair it was him she ended up propositioning, but boy it was going to be tough looking her in the eyes on the bridge tomorrow, and keeping a straight face. _'Imagine a Vulcan was trying to seduce him.' _ Up until now he'd assumed they mated in test tubes. That thought was his undoing, because the next thing he knew, she got past his defense and bounced him off the bulkhead before she sprinted away. 

T'Pol was lost.  She ran and ran, but never seemed to get anywhere or see anyone except Malcolm or one of his men.  Then suddenly she turned a corner and there they were, all three of them coming at her from different directions.  They had her surrounded.  Her back was to the wall, and all she could hear was Malcolm's voice through the microphone in his suit.   His words did not make any sense!  She was Vulcan, how dare he try to stop her.  With a mighty war cry of old, she launched herself at him, and a blinding white light exploded in her chest! A moment later she crumpled to the deck.

Malcolm gasped as the phase bullets hit their target.  For a moment it felt as if they were tearing through him instead of just stunning her.  For the first time in his life he wished he'd been armed with a hypospray instead of a state-of-the-art weapon.

……………………

"Put her over here, Lieutenant."  Phlox held open the door to Decon and pointed to an area on the floor.

"Is she going to remember any of this in the morning, Doc?"  Reed stooped and placed the unconscious body of the slim, scantily clad Vulcan where the Doctor had indicated.

"With any luck, no."  Dr. Phlox gave her a quick examination. "Was it really necessary to shoot her?"  He tilted his head in wonder at the Tactical Officer.

"Shoot her, in the mood she was in, she's lucky I only used stun."  He rubbed his sore bum, where she'd thrown him against the wall.

"That bad?"

"And then some."  Malcolm shook his head.  '_What a mess, he'd be lucky to stay out of the brig when the Captain found out!'_  But a smile spread across his face as he thought of the sight she'd made.  He was learning more about Vulcans all the time.  It was one of those stories that he'd remember until he was a very old man.  Too bad it wasn't something he could tell anyone else.  If he could, he'd drink free in every Earth port on that tale, for a long time to come.

"Go bathe, and leave the environmental suit in Decon.  My readings show you and your team clear of the microbe."

"Yes, Sir."  Reed headed for the door, glad to leave the unconscious Vulcan in Phlox's care.

The Doctor administered a hypospray of the serum he'd been working on to the base of T'Pol's neck.  Once they were alone again, he pulled aside the neckline of her t-shirt to examine the depth of discoloration caused by Malcolm's shot to her sternum.  "Poor baby," he whispered as if she were indeed one of his daughters.  "Just what you needed to end a perfect day, phase burns, at lease we know those will pass."  Shaking his head in wonder, he slouched on the floor across from the sleeping Vulcan.  "Well, the next few hours should tell the tale."  He didn't even want to think what would happen if his cure didn't work, and they didn't get the Captain back soon! 

……………..

Two hours later Archer sauntered through the doors to Sickbay, his uniform was dirty and his hair messed, but he appeared none the worse for wear.

"Ah, Captain it is good to have you home."  Phlox greeted him with a relieved smile as he ran his medical scanner over the Human.  "Humph, nothing new for you.  I can tell from these readings you've been a guest of the Klingons again.  Maybe I should just start you on the standard vaccinations for a visit to the Empire and we could dispense with these visits after you've had a run in with them."

"Thanks, but no thanks."  He grinned and hoped he wasn't going to have to spend too much time in Decon; he needed to see T'Pol, and find out for himself how she was.  "Where's my First Officer?"  

"I just moved her into a bed in Sickbay.  She had a fever, but it's gone, and she's sleeping off its side-effects."  The Doctor didn't want to get into specifics with anyone, including the Captain, but there _were_ some things they needed to discuss.  "It doesn't look as if you've picked up any stowaways, so no Decon for you today."

"Is she all right?"

"She's going to be fine."  Phlox smiled gravely.  "We both were infected with a microbe. I remained asymptomatic, but she didn't.  It caused the fever I mentioned and stimulated her limbic system.  Not a very pleasant thing to happen, especially for a Vulcan."

"I see."  Archer walked over to the door that wouldn't close on the Decon Chamber and inspected the torn out power panel and hanging circuits.  "It looks like you've had quite a day."  He raised his eyebrows as he fought to remember something from his college biology class that was eluding him….  "Yes quite a day indeed."  He whistled as the facts came back.  '_Limbic System…a ring of interconnected structures in the midline of the brain around the hypothalamus, involved with EMOTIONS and MEMORY. The system is activated by motivated behavior and AROUSAL, and it influences the ENDOCRINE and autonomic motor system…'_  His face rippled with pain when he visualized what she must have been going through.

"Captain," the Doctor reached for the Human's shoulder and tried to reassure him, without breaking T'Pol's confidence.  It was enough that Archer knew she had been having problems handling her emotions, without knowing about her premature mating urges.  "There would have been nothing you could have done if you were here, nothing that might not have made the situation worse, at any rate. You know we would never let her come to any harm, in your absence."  He left it at that, afraid he might have already revealed too much.

"Thank you, for taking care of her."  He closed his eyes and gripped the wall.  His voice was like ground glass. He wished he could have been there for her when she needed someone she could trust, no matter what Phlox said. "May I see her?"

"Of course."  The Denobulan watched Archer lose, and then fight to regain his emotional equilibrium.  "But when you're done, Captain, would you stop by my office?" Jonathan nodded as he moved on autopilot, to the bed where he'd awakened after returning from Rura Penthe.

T'Pol lay so still that if her monitor hadn't been its usual deep blue, he wouldn't have been sure she was still alive.  Her normally dusky skin tone was almost waxy with olive veins standing out on her hands and eyelids.  For the first time in a long while he was aware of how slight she really was.  Her personality had such drive and force, that he tended to forget that she was small boned and slim.

"Ohhh!"  He gasped as he took her hand in both of his, and was hit by a feeling of warmth and contentment that had been missing for hours.  Off and on during his captivity, he'd thought he'd felt her in pain and fear.  After what Phlox had told him, he was sure that what he'd felt had been real.  But now as he held onto her, and knew she was safe, he began to think he had imagined the whole thing.

He sat with his hip hooked on the side of her bed and held her hand as he watched her sleep.  A cocoon of intimacy surrounded them and cut them off from the rest of the universe.  It took all his will power not to lift her fingers to his lips and kiss them, but it was a matter of pride.  The first time he kissed her, he wanted her awake and a willing participant, or it would not happen!

As he caressed her hand he carefully examined broken and torn skin across her knuckles, and cracked nails that Phlox had yet to repair.  It made his stomach turn when he compared the condition of her hands to the memory of the dangling and broken panel in Decon.  "What must you have been going through to have been that desperate?"  He whispered.

**For a moment he had a flash of her frantically ripping at wiring until it burst into flames in her face, then she forced the door open and ran, all the while muttering in a Vulcan tongue he did not recognize.**

"Jonathan?"  She whispered as her eyes opened and she looked into the face of the man she had been longing for and fighting at the same time.  "I did as you said, and did not remember."  Her eyes were clouded over and he could tell she still was not awake.  "The timeline is safe."

"T'Pol, what did you say?"  He leaned forward, forgetting everything except her talk of time.  "What about the timeline?" He held her close, willing her to respond.

"I'm so cold, Jonathan."  She murmured, unsure if she was seeing him, or still dreaming. "So cold, do not go away again…." And she began to tremble, as she clutched him to her.

"I'm right here and you're safe."  He nuzzled her ear and felt her press her nose into his neck.  '_Whatever she had started to say must have been a dream.'_

"It is really you," she inhaled deeply of the scent she had been seeking, but unable to find.  "You are safe."  She held him close and ran one hand through the side of his hair as she fell asleep stroking his back.   _'Here always here,' _her mind reached out.

'_Always here._' His echoed in return.

He sat up slowly and looked down at the sleeping woman. '_What had just happened?'  _Suddenly he felt every ache and pain that had been inflicted on his body over the last 24 hours.  Plus he hurt in places he didn't know existed. He was in desperate need of a shower, food and some sleep, not necessarily in that order, but first Phlox was waiting to talk to him. Jonathan took one last look at the sleeping Vulcan, then turned and headed for the Doctor's office. 

………………………….

"You wanted to see me?"  Archer looked around the corner of Phlox's office.  He'd caught the Denobulan in an unguarded moment and could tell that the last few hours hadn't been easy on him.

"Come in, Captain, this shouldn't take long…."

 Jonathan nodded, but got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.  From the expression on the Doctor's face it appeared as if something was very wrong.

"The last few months have been difficult for T'Pol. And I think I'm beginning to understand why."  The Doctor got up and began pacing.  He knew it wasn't any of his business, but as the only other alien member of the crew, he'd taken a fatherly interest in her.  "Vulcans are unique in the universe.  They've chosen to suppress their emotions and feelings in favor of an ordered life built around logic."

"Why are you telling me something I already know?"

"Because Humans are the most emotional, illogical species I've ever met.  Even Klingons run their lives in a more ordered fashion. The secret to dealing with them is understanding their version of logic, and then it all falls into place.  Not so with Humans." The Doctor shrugged as if that explained it all.  "One Human's emotional mess is another's cool logic… and so forth"

"That still doesn't answer my question." Archer interrupted. 

"To be blunt, Captain, I've watched you and the Sub-Commander tip-toe around each other for the last year."  He'd been surprised to find T'Pol sleeping in Archer's arms a few weeks ago, and her more recent behavior had been shocking.

"Are you asking my intentions?"  Archer grinned.

"Well someone has to look out for her."  Phlox burst out.  "I'm sorry, Captain, I know you wouldn't intentionally do anything that would hurt her." 

"Then what's this all about?"

"She's not just any Vulcan, she's one who is alone on a ship full of Humans.  Everywhere she goes she's surrounded by emotions, and it's bound to make her act out of character. I would hate to see either of you get hurt."  Phlox had a bad feeling about where all this was leading.

"Wait a minute, didn't we cover all this a few weeks ago?"

"No, but we should have.  I'm sorry Captain, but I only want what's best for both of you."

"I've never doubted that.  But for the better part of a year I've had the feeling you've been trying to get us together.  You're the one who kept talking about intimacy, and Humans being safe from Pa'nar Syndrome, every chance you got."  Archer thought back to the conversations he'd had with the Doctor when it looked as if they were going to lose T'Pol.  "Was it only wishful thinking on my part?"

"No, Captain, it wasn't." The Denobulan sighed; his shoulders slumped in defeat.  "She was dying at the time, and I could see you cared about her.  I thought…. I hoped, that if the two of you had become close, it would've made it easier for her in the end and given you a sense of closure when she was gone.

"It seems my meddling has made things difficult for both of you, because I've encouraged her as well.  Everything is different and has been since that Wisp tried to take over her mind.  As you already know, it cured her Pa'nars, so unless something unforeseen happens, T'Pol will live a full Vulcan life.  She'll always carry a marker on her brain scan, and might possibly be a carrier, but she isn't sick herself.  Unfortunately I didn't take that into consideration when I continued my matchmaking."  The little man frowned at the use of the Human word.  "Denobulan males are infamous for it, I'm sorry, Captain."

"I still don't see the problem." Archer was tired and in no mood to play guessing games.  Phlox was a man whose opinion he trusted and respected.  If he didn't think Humans and Vulcans could make a go of it, they were in big trouble.

"The problem, Captain, is that Vulcans don't have casual…liaisons, and the High Command would not allow anything else."

"The High Command be damned! There's nothing casual about what I feel for her."  Jonathan whispered, pain and longing evident on his face.  

"I realize that."  The Doctor sadly shook his head.  The look on Archer's face was so much like the one that had been on T'Pol's, it took his breath away.  If those two ever got together, it would be a union that shook the universe. "But even if you set aside the political ramifications, there is the very real issue of life spans.  It's very unusual for a Vulcan to bond more than once, and she will outlive you by decades."

"I've known that for a while."  Jonathan shrugged and remembered the photo of T'Pol's second foremother.  When they had been trapped on the catwalk, he'd wished he'd live long enough to see her look like that, now it was a tangible yearning inside of him.

"Good."  The Denobulan smiled and nodded.  "One small piece of advice, Captain.  When the time comes, do her the honor of letting her know how you really feel, so she can be in on the decision making process.  Don't just leave her behind because you think it's in her best interest."  The Doctor had a new hypothesis as to the real cause of T'Pol's Pon Farr and it was going to take some discrete checking to find an answer.  '_Maybe it was already too late for these two.'_   

"I'll do my best, but I can't make any promises." He didn't realize he was so transparent, that Phlox would be able to see what he was thinking.  "May I sit with her for a few more minutes?"

"Only if you clean up first.  She would be most distressed to waken and find you dirty and smelling of Klingons."  The Doctor smiled and stifled a yawn.  "But don't stay too long, you need some rest.  I'll be sleeping in my office if you need me."

An inner peace had grown in Jonathan as the Doctor had spoken.  For the first time in his life, his direction had meaning that didn't necessitate a solitary future. For the first time in his life it had nothing to do with warp engines or his father's dream.  He'd known since he was a small boy that he wanted to live his life among the stars. To reach that goal, he'd never let himself get attached to one person for too long.  Now it seemed that a woman had come his way and he knew that he'd gladly sacrifice everything he'd worked for to keep her by his side.  He just didn't know what to do about it.

Twenty minutes later he walked quietly into Sickbay and headed for the chair beside her bed, a coffee cup gripped in his left hand and a smile on his face.  "We'll figure it out, but we've got all the time in the world."  He whispered to the sleeping woman, as he laid his head on his arms, and propped them beside her.

Twenty-four hours later he found out just how wrong he had been.  Time had run out when a hostile unknown force attacked Earth!

TO BE CONTINUED

FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS VERY WELCOME!!


	14. Passages

Spoiler:  The Expanse, ch 7 from A Trip Through Dark and Rocky Places

Notes:  **Double asterisks will be on either side of dream sequences, or things that are remembered from the past.  With luck those sections will also be italicized. It doesn't always upload correctly, no matter how many times I try.

Thanks: To Monica, my ever patient beta reader

Pairings: Archer/T'Pol, Hoshi/Trip & Malcolm/Other

ENJOY!

Ch 14 Passages

****

Jonathan Archer propped his head on the biobed where T'Pol was sleeping.  Her deep even breathing told him she was resting quietly and the touch of his hand on hers assured him her fever was gone.  He was sorely tempted to crawl in beside her so he could hold her like he really wanted, or even stay where he was, so her hand could remain in his, but he was smart enough to realize that if Phlox caught them, he'd get sent back to his own quarters.  And if anyone else caught them!!! He didn't even want to think of the complications it could cause.  It was bad enough that Phlox knew he cared about her.  It was best no one else did for the time being.

"I'll be less than two feet away."  He smiled as he spoke softly to the sleeping woman and pulled the covers tighter around her shoulders.  "Right here for you if those dreams come again."  Between the little she had mumbled to him when she was somewhere between awake and asleep, added to the bits and pieces he'd gotten from Phlox, Trip, and Malcolm, he believed it would be best if there was someone here with her if she awoke in the night.  _Or so he told himself._

He grabbed a blanket and pillow from the drawers where he knew Phlox kept them, then extinguished the light and crawled onto the biobed beside hers.  Lying on his side he smiled to himself as he thought that they looked like the picture of propriety.  She on her side, covered to the neck and he on his, with a blanket over his sweats and t-shirt.  His last waking thought was that if he had Porthos beside him, it'd be just like back on the Catwalk.

……………………..

Hoshi Sato stretched and looked around the bridge.  As suddenly as things had gotten out of control the day before, they had righted themselves.  It was only the time in-between that had seemed to last forever.  The Captain was back, and from the look of him when he'd made a quick stop to the bridge, a few hours earlier, she'd bet he was asleep, by now.  If she had to hazard a guess, she figured it was in Sickbay, not too far from T'Pol, who according to Dr. Phlox was well on her way to recovery from the strange fever she'd picked up. 

"Boy, Graham, am I ever glad to see you!"  Hoshi rubbed her eyes as Ensign Graham Elizabeth Morgan, the acting beta shift communications officer, appeared at her station promptly on time. 

"You could've given me a call, and I'd have come in early."  The redhead grinned and looked around at the tired alpha-shift bridge crew.  None of them had been willing to leave their stations during the search for Captain Archer.  They all looked blurry-eyed and bushed, as they handed over their positions to their counterparts on beta-shift. "You've been manning the comm. board for the last nineteen hours.  It's part of my command rotation to learn from the best, but how can I do that if you're too tried to teach me." 

"I know, I'm sorry, but I couldn't leave him," Hoshi whispered and nodded toward Trip where he was leaning exhaustedly against the Captain's chair, deep in conversation with Malcolm.

"With a view like that I can see why you stayed."  Morgan sighed as her eyes strayed to the slim dark haired Tactical Officer.

"He needed me, and there isn't much he…." Hoshi's sentence trailed off as she realized that the men had stopped talking and she found herself staring into deep blue eyes.  "I gotta go Graham, the logs are current, they'll bring you up to date on all the repairs that're going on."  She practically threw down her earpiece and jumped out of her chair.  But standing caught her by surprise.  Her right leg cramped, and she almost fell.  

"You all right?"  Graham gripped her elbow to help her keep her balance.

"Sure, I was sitting in one position too long, that's all. I just need to loosen up a bit."  Hoshi pasted a smile on her face and tried to lie her way off the bridge before she caused too much of a spectacle. 

"I'll cover your retreat, but you'd better hurry."  Her friend whispered, as she watched over Hoshi's shoulder.  "Almost everyone else from your shift has left, and we're beginning to attract some attention."

"Damn," Hoshi muttered, as she estimated the distance to the lift and told herself she could do it. She'd been careful when coming and going from the bridge to be sure there was always a crowd around her.

Her forehead was damp with sweat and her lip throbbed from where she'd dug in her teeth to keep from gasping in pain, but she'd made it with only a minor limp.  In the background she heard Graham attempting to make conversation with Trip and Malcolm to keep them occupied, while she waited for the lift.  If her calf hadn't been threatening to give way and send her tumbling to the deck, she would have smiled in delight.  Hoshi's shy friend had had a crush on Malcolm since the mission began, but this was the first time she'd ever approached him.

Moments later it arrived and she breathed a sigh of relief that she was alone as the doors closed behind her.  It had been a close call.  She leaned over and tried to rub the knot out of her slowly tightening calf muscle with one hand, as her other awkwardly grasped for the control panel. But before she could reach it, the doors opened again, and spilled bridge noises into the silence of the little enclosure.  Without looking up she knew who was standing there by the way her stomach jumped and her skin tingled.

"Ya know Malcolm, if you don't have the command codes, ya gotta share the lift."  Trip never took his eyes off Hoshi who was trying to straighten and stand casually, as if nothing had happened.  "Isn't that right Ensign?"

"Ahhh…"  She had the good grace to flush.  It was obvious that he remembered when T'Pol had locked him out of the lift using her overrides.  Hoshi had hoped he'd been too drunk to realize the Vulcan had done it to protect her from having to come face to face with him when she'd been crying.

"I'll take that as an affirmative."  His eyes twinkled as he nodded at her.  He finally had her alone and he was going to keep it that way until he got some answers.

"Trip, I just remembered I needed to talk to Ensign Morgan about something."  Malcolm chimed in.  "Go on and eat without me, this may take awhile."

"Yeah, sure thing old buddy."  The tall blond nodded and walked with measured steps toward the woman who meant everything to him. 

………………………

Graham's jaw dropped as Trip looked over his shoulder and winked at Reed, then closed the lift door before letting anyone else got on_.  It'd been a set up_, and Hoshi had walked right into it! She was sure of it.

"You two planned that."  She knew if she looked up into Malcolm's deep brown eyes, her hands would begin to shake and she'd never get through the systems check that was required at the beginning of each shift.

"Not me, I took my cues from the Commander, and he was too tired to plan anything, but if he'd given it a bit of thought I'm sure he would have." Reed watched Graham's slim fingers dance over the communications board.  It was hard to believe this woman possessed the sure strong grip that made her the top marksman, he knew her to be. "In case you haven't noticed, we've been a bit busy, up here."  He blinked and cleared his throat when he realized he'd been staring.

"Well it's good to know that all those bangs and booms, that kept waking me, weren't just target practice."  She looked up at him through her lashes and much to her surprise he was looking back.

 "A little target practice never hurt anyone."  Reed couldn't take his eyes off the pert redhead.  When she'd rotated through the Armory, he'd noticed that she was efficient and capable, but he'd never looked twice at her as a woman.  Maybe he'd been in space too long, or on duty for too many hours. His eyes kept drifting to her throat and neck where short curls had escaped her tightly braided hair, and gently framed her face. "As you move up the ladder in the Command Rotation, you'll discover that a good officer makes the most of an opportunity when it comes his way."  He had to fight to keep his eyes from roaming over her slim compact body.

"Spoken like a true tactician!"  She couldn't believe it; they were talking and joking.  She loved his sense of humor, it was dry and witty, the kind she liked best.  Her grandmother had always said she could make conversation with a rock, but when it came to Malcolm Reed, her mouth went dry and she hemmed and hawed like a schoolgirl.  "It looks like you helped Commander Tucker make good use of his."

"If I hadn't thought it was in Hoshi's best interest, he wouldn't have gotten on that lift."  The growl in his voice left no doubts to his sincerity.

"That's sweet."

"Sweet," his brows rose in mock horror.  "Please Ensign, do not let that get around. I'm the Amory Officer and sweet is not in the job description."  He tried to scowl but when she chuckled at him, his face softened and he grinned.  She was such a pretty little thing he didn't understand how she had escaped his notice up until now.  "How much longer do you have on graveyard?"  He didn't envy her the shift she worked, but knew it was a necessity. He hoped if they talked about work it would take his mind off the sudden desire to play his hands through her soft curly hair.

"This is the last night," she sighed. "I move over to days for my six months in engineering, the day after tomorrow."  She glanced down at her board as a flashing red light caught her attention.  "Oh no…the lift has stopped between decks.  You don't think they've killed each other do you?"

"No, they have a few things to iron out, that's all."  He reached across her and flipped a switch that turned the red light back to green.  "Lets give them some privacy."  As his arm brushed her shoulder, he heard her slight gasp.  Deep brown eyes locked with large gray ones and Malcolm new that if he didn't act on his opportunity, it might never come again.  "If you don't have other plans, Ensign, would you like to meet me in the Mess Hall at 0800, sort of a breakfast/dinner."

"I..I'd like that very much."  Graham's mind froze and she was surprised she'd been able to get the words out.  '_But did he ask me on a date, or is it ship's business?'  _She added…"Sir," just incase.

…………………….

The doors closed and Trip hit the button for B Deck before he turned around and took a good look at the woman behind him. "Hosh, this has gotta stop.  Ya gotta give me a chance…."

"Ooohhh."  She cried out and would have fallen hard, if he hadn't grabbed her and lowered her to the ground. When he reached behind him to hit the emergency stop, he said a silent prayer that Malcolm was still covering for him on the bridge or there would be a team crashing through the ceiling in about three minutes.  He'd deliberately disabled the communicator at the same time he'd brought the lift to a halt. Nothing short of a Tactical Alert was going to get in the way of his time with Hoshi!

"Darlin' what's wrong?"  He watched as she frantically pulled at the straps on her right boot.

"Cramp," she gasped and cried out as the muscles contracted even tighter. 

"Easy Darlin if you fight it, it'll only get worse."  He propped her against the bulkhead and shoved her hands aside, while he made quick work of the fasteners and boot.

"Trip, help me!" Hoshi cried out and twisted her body to take some of the pull off her calf. 

"Easy does it, Darlin, ol' Trip'll take care of you."  One of his large hands engulfed her foot as the other supported her calf.

"EASY does it?"  She shouted and pounded her fists on the deck.  "It's not your leg that's being cut off without benefit of anesthesia!" The muscles had begun to knot so badly, that they pulled on adjoining ones and caused her toes to contract and curl.

"Whoa, it's nice to see that temper of yours aimed at something other than my head!"  He teased to keep his mind off the ripple of muscles as they tightened in his hand.  He knew it had to feel as if someone was stickin her with a red-hot poker, and it broke his heart to know she was in pain, and he was going to have to cause her more. "Okay, Darlin, you ready? I'm gonna flex your foot and push real hard on the ball.  It's gonna hurt like hell!"

"Just do it!"  She snarled at him as sweat broke out on her upper lip and her eyes filled with tears.

He propped her foot against his chest and covered it tightly with one hand to keep it in place, then leaned forward, causing her foot to flex against him.  All the time he muttered encouraging words and massaged her calf. Slowly he could feel the cramp begin to loosen and her taught posture slumped against the wall.

"Take some real deep breaths and try to stay relaxed. I'm gonna push harder," he warned as he felt her trying to pull free of his grip.  "Damnit Hoshi, I said relax! If you fight me, it won't stretch out your calf muscles and they'll cramp again."  He'd played enough sports and had enough cramps in his years in high school to know.

"I don't want to hurt you."  She whispered as he leaned closer and jammed her foot tighter against his chest.

It was a lame excuse and she knew it, but he was too close and his kindness was going to be her undoing.  All she wanted was to thrown her arms around him and forget the last few weeks had happened, but her emotions were too raw, and she wanted him too badly to think straight.  Her stomach did a flip-flop, as she battled the rush of longing brought on by the familiar scent of him inches away.  It brought back clear memories of the taste and texture of the hard muscular chest her foot was pressed against.  Her breathing hitched as she fought new tears brought on by a deeper stronger emotional pain.

"You think this little foot of yours is hurtin me?"  He grinned at her and kept massaging the back of her leg.  "I remember getting tackled by Hulk Anderson, biggest guy on the Tallahassee High team, and they played dirty too.   I was trying to get off a pass and he nailed me right in the number with his helmet.  Couldn't catch my breath for a week."

Hoshi leaned back against the lift wall and smiled for the first time in days.  He was probably telling her a huge story, to keep her mind off the pain.  It was one of his most endearing qualities, but unfortunately, it was also keeping her mind off his hand that had moved further up her leg and become more of a caress than a massage.  Suddenly she was the one who couldn't catch her breath.  He was practically on top of her.  Her left leg was held clamped between the taught muscles of his right thigh and left boot.   Her right one bent, with her foot pushing against his chest and her knee against her shoulder.  He was so close she could feel his breath on her face and his body heat surrounding her. For a moment everything stopped. 

 "Thank you, that's much better."  She took in deep gulps of air between words and could feel her heart beating in her ears, as she reached for his hand and pulled it away from her thigh.  "You can let me up now."  Her eyes begged him not to make a fuss.  She was too tired and they had been too close for her to think clearly.

"Hoshi---"

"Please Trip, not tonight, we've both been through too much."  With a shaking hand she reached up and cupped his left cheek.

As if it had a life of its own, his left hand covered hers and pressed it tightly against his face, while his head turned and he kissed the tender pad of her palm.  When he finally pulled back his eyes were damp, but he had himself under control.  "Alright, but you gotta let me help you to your quarters.  I promise I won't try to come in.  I just wanna be sure you're okay."

"Thank you."  Her whisper barely reached his ears as he gripped her around the waist and pulled her to her feet.

"You think you can stand?"

She nodded as he reached for her boot and released the emergency stop on the lift, but the trip to B deck went all too swiftly. It felt wonderful to have his arm around her again, and she was glad he kept it there while he helped her down the corridor to her quarters.  "I'll be fine, really I will." She smiled at him weakly.

"Well goodnight, then."  He wanted to kiss her so badly it hurt, but he didn't dare.  She was at least speaking to him again and he wasn't taking any chances of pushing her away a second time.

"Trip," she took a deep breath and gathered her courage.  She loved him and that wasn't going to change.  She was sick and tired of hiding because she was afraid of what _ifs_. But she was also smart enough to know that neither of them was in any shape to make a sane decision tonight.  "Would you have dinner with me tomorrow night, here in my quarters?"

"You sure that's what you want?"  He had a vivid memory of the last time they'd had dinner in her quarters.  Chocolate mousse had been on Chef's menu, but Hoshi had given it a unique flavor all her own. 

Before she could lose her nerve, she stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. "Very much so."   

………………………..     

In the early morning hours T'Pol turned over in bed and sighed in her sleep as she became aware of a familiar comforting scent, which had been hiding in the background all night. '_Jonathan,'_ her sleeping mind replied, but her internal clock told her they had plenty of time before their shift began, so she relaxed and let his presence surround her thoughts.

_**'But something must be wrong.'  She shifted again, trying to find the large warm body that always held her as they slept.  And what was that other odd smell that tried to mask the one she sought?_

_'Sickbay!'  Her mind shouted.  She was in Sickbay.  Fear shivered through her, as her hand slid to her flat stomach, searching, searching, searching…but for what?**_

"NO!" She shouted herself awake.  As suddenly as she knew something was very wrong, her mind locked a door on the memory and she fell tumbling back into herself.  Whatever thoughts had thrust her awake were hidden behind a wall of her own making, while she tried to shake free of Jonathan's voice repeating in her mind, _'you must not remember.'_

Archer was brought suddenly awake by T'Pol's shout, and rolled off the biobed beside hers. He gripped her with one arm around her shoulders and the other around her waist.  "Wake up T'Pol, you're having a nightmare."

"Vulcans do not have nightmares."  Her hoarse voice whispered as she fought to catch her breath and orient herself.  She had vague memories of spending hours with Phlox in decon and something else... "You are back!"  She turned and gripped his t-shirt collar.  "You are safe."

"Yes, I got back last night."  He moved around and held her hands in his as he looked at her bruised and banged knuckles.  "I wasn't hurt, but it looks as if you weren't as lucky."

"It is nothing."  She tried to pull free, as a vague memory of ripping apart the wall in decon, surfaced.  "It was the pathogen I picked up on the planet."  She shuddered as she realized what had happened, and hoped her behavior had not been too disruptive.

 "T'Pol, it's alright. The reports I've read said you were very ill, but Phlox took good care of you."  

"He did."  She remembered bits and pieces of the night before, and the doctor had assured her that nothing inappropriate had happened between them.  "It appears as if we are both safe now." 

"Safe?" Archer frowned at her unusual choice of words.  He would have thought she would have said they were both all right.  Her illness must have made her feel insecure, which was why she had been crying out in her sleep. "The microbe must have caused the nightmares."

 "I told you, Vulcans do not have nightmares. We do not let ourselves dream." It was a statement of fact, and she hoped it would keep Jonathan from asking more questions.

"Oh?" He shook his head as an old memory surfaced.  He could see her in her darkened quarters, with only the light of her meditation candle between them.  Her face was ravaged with pain as it was now, but that time a flesh and blood man had caused it. Tolaris had used force during a mind meld and she was attempting to meditate away the horrors of it.  The renegade Vulcan had used her dreams against her to try and turn her from the path of logic. "It seems to me you told me something very different once." Jonathan reached around and held her again, to add his body heat to hers. She shivered against him, as she absorbed the warmth he offered. 

"To dream would be to let emotion take control when I slept." As a species, Vulcans found it difficult to lie, but when necessary were perfectly capable of it.  But as she looked into his concerned eyes, she knew he was one person she would never be able to lie to, so she dodged the question with a statement of fact, while she fought another dream.  A more recent one, where Jonathan lay dead in a pool of blood. Tolaris had killed him!

"Captain, stop badgering my patient.  You appear well enough to be released from Sickbay."  Dr. Phlox arrived carrying a breakfast tray.  His eyes rested momentarily on the rumpled bed beside T'Pol's.  Both men knew Archer had been released from the doctor's care the night before. Phlox was covering for his captain, but the Doctor's first loyalty was to the one who had been ill. "Besides you have a message coming in from Earth.  If you like, you may take it in my office.  That nice young Ensign was quite insistent that I wake you." 

"Thanks Phlox," Jonathan could tell from the blue twinkle in the Denobulan's eyes that he realized he was being thanked for more than the use of his office.

"Anytime I can be of service, Captain."

Jonathan nodded and looked back over his shoulder at T'Pol, who had been sitting silently watching him.

………………………..  

"Have you been ill Jonathan?"  Forrest squinted at Archer on his view screen.  It was clear the man had been sleeping in Sickbay.  He needed the captain of Earth's only warp 5 starship healthy and he needed him that way now, too much was at stake.

"No, Sir."  Archer tried to focus.  The Admiral looked terrible.  "I had another little run in with the Klingons.  Phlox was keeping an eye on me my first night back, that's all.  What can I do for you?" 

………………………….

Graham Morgan's stomach heaved as she chose toast and tea over her usual hearty after-shift meal.  She'd spent the last few hours on an adrenalin roller coaster and was drained. Her heart ached when she realized that in the amount of time it had taken her to answer a hail from Earth, everything had changed.

**She'd been pinching herself to try and stay awake, in the dawn hours of her shift. A mixture of excitement and worry about her coming date with Malcolm Reed had made it hard to concentrate, so she'd used twice the usual energy to stay on task.  When the first 'flash' message had come in from Star Fleet, she'd told herself it was just another drill, but the expression on the face of the communications officer on Earth, had made her want to lock down her board and pretend that she'd never received it.  Even then a gnawing intuition had told her that things would never be the same again. 

_That had been two hours, and seven messages from Earth, ago.  When Hoshi had taken over the station, Malcolm had been right behind her.  Instead of meeting him in the Mess Hall for their combined breakfast-dinner, they'd had a few terse words on the bridge, which left her feeling empty and a bit lost._

_At shift change, no one but the Captain had known what was really going on, but from the look of the people who had been called for an early morning meeting, Graham knew it couldn't have been good.  Even Sub-Commander T'Pol, who had looked pale and drawn from her recent illness, was there, though Dr. Phlox had clucked his disapproval at her presence.**_

_Now they all knew._  An alien probe had attacked Earth, which left thousands, maybe even millions dead, and Enterprise was being recalled.  The idea of what had gone on at home was so incomprehensible that Graham had trouble accepting it.  From moment to moment she'd forget. Then realization would hit her all over again, and she'd catch her breath in horror of what had happened.

"Ensign," Malcolm Reed stood beside her table with a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Please, sit down." She nodded toward the empty seat across from her.  "I thought, with all that has happened…well I assumed you'd be too busy."  The man who stood beside her had never looked harder or tougher.  His eyes didn't sparkle with dry humor, nor did he attempt to smile.  He looked like the man she always suspected was there, once the layers of civilization were peeled away, a deadly warrior.

"I can't stay long, I just wanted to say I'm sorry."  He put down his empty coffee cup and would have left if she hadn't reached for his hand.

"Wait, answer one question for me first."  Graham licked her lips and gathered her courage.  During her long night of worry, she'd come to realize she had a lot more than a crush on this strange quiet man.  If she was going to care deeply about someone like him, it would take nerves of steel, and a strength of character that would match his.

"I can't give you anymore information than has already been released to the crew."  

"I know," she smiled at his stiff formal behavior.  "I'd never ask you to. My question is about last night.  You were asking me on a date, weren't you?"

"Ensign, last night no longer exists."  He had been trying to cut her from his mind ever since he'd heard about the probe.  They'd served on the same ship for two years and it was his bloody luck to finally see her as a woman, the night before Earth was attacked.

"I beg to differ with you, Sir.  When we start erasing parts of our pasts, we are destroying our future."

"_We_ have no future."  Malcolm fought to keep his emotions under control.  He was hurting Graham and he was doing it on purpose.  His primary goal was to stay focused on what lay ahead.  He was a soldier, first and last.  There was no room in his life for the softer things.

"Sir I was referring to _mankind's future_."  She was furious at him, and even angrier with herself for letting him make her mad in the first place.  "There's gotta be more than fear, confusion, and death waiting for us around each bend in the road, or what's the use in even getting up in the morning." Her words were coming fast and hard as all her doubts and fears spilled out. "So please, just answer my question." 

He'd lain awake last night trying to figure out why it had taken him so long to notice her.  The only thing he could come up with was that she was what he'd always called a 'girly-girl,' definitely not his usual type. He liked his female companions to be tall, tough, and athletic.   She was short, slim and small boned.  He'd bet a month's pay that she liked ruffles and all the female things he found so annoying. But there was something about her that made him want to reach and touch.  To find out what she thought and felt, to be close to her in more than the physical way he usually settled for.

"Malcolm, please tell me the truth." She whispered. "I won't bother you again, I promise, I just want to know."  She reached for his hand, but pulled back before she touched him.

His knees buckled when he saw her pull back. He hid it by taking the chair across from hers.  She was a gentle soul who had the unfortunate luck to care about him.  "I was, but now things are different."

"Thank you for being honest with me."  She touched his hand and was surprised when he held onto hers.

"You deserve more."

"We all do, but it looks like this attack on Earth is what we got instead."  Suddenly Graham was too tired to think straight, all she wanted to do was curl up in her bunk and sleep forever.

"I'm sorry but I need to get back to the bridge."  He gave her hand one last squeeze and stood.

"If you ever need someone to talk to, a friend or…whatever."  She shrugged and stumbled over her words. "I'll be here for you."   

 He nodded as he escaped from the Mess Hall.  _'What have I ever done to deserve someone like her?'_ The thought played over and over again in his mind, as he made a quick detour to Engineering to see how Trip was doing.

……………………………

T'Pol had spent most of the day waiting, first for news from Earth, then for an open channel to the Vulcan Embassy in San Francisco.  She knew that if anyone could get them more answers it would be Soval.  He had the power to call in help from the High Command, something Earth needed. By early afternoon, she had completed her task, but the news was unenlightening. The Vulcans had offered their help to Earth's government, but they had not been able to find out much more than anyone else.  The probe had been sent by an unknown species, for unknown reasons.  It would take time and investigation to find out who and what was behind it.

………………………………

The Suliban came out of nowhere.  One moment everyone's concentration was on getting back to Earth, as fast as the warp engines could take them, and the next they were surrounded by pod ships, the power fluctuated and Enterprise was crawling with enemy soldiers.

T'Pol felt her stomach clench as she and Jonathan rushed from his office and saw two Suliban slither across the ceiling of the bridge.  Then power failed completely and they saw nothing at all. She had to battle back her fear with every technique of concentration she had ever learned. The presence of the red clad beings brought back too many memories of the last time she had been face to face with them.  That had been over a year ago, but she remembered every detail as if it had happened yesterday, because they had broken her will.  It had taken hours, and the use of powerful mind drugs, but they had been successful in extracting information from her.  She thought she had put the incident behind her, but it was evident she had not.

While she tried to restore at least partial power to the science station and monitors, she rationalized that due to her recent illness, the Suliban had been able to _startle_ her.  It was the only explanation for the reason they had caught her off guard and tapped into fears she had spent hours meditating away.

Possibly she had been overly optimistic when she had over-ruled Phlox and reported for duty, rather than spending another day in Sickbay, as he had requested.  At the time she had told herself that she needed to get back to work to prove that the pathogen she had picked up, which had triggered an unnatural Pon Farr, was gone. After all she was Vulcan, and believed that any problem, when approached logically, could be solved.  _Her reason had had nothing to do with the stricken look on Jonathan's face when he had walked out of the Doctor's private office, after his initial conversation with Admiral Forrest._  _It had had nothing to do with the way he had walked over to her and had just looked at her as if he were drowning in sorrow. _

As suddenly as the power had failed, it hummed to life.  Lights blinked on, and stations came back online.  In the background T'Pol heard Malcolm calling out that the pod ships were gone, but it hardly registered.  Her eyes sought the secure bulk of Jonathan Archer, but he was missing! 

It took her a moment to catch her breath, and then she was barking orders, to cover the rising tide of fear that opened deep fissures in her foundation of logic. A search of the surrounding area proved futile.  The Suliban had evidently taken him, and with him a sizable chunk of T'Pol's calm.

"We gotta find him."  Trip called out from where he was looking over Malcolm's shoulder at the tactical display.  "We gotta turn around, if we keep goin' at warp 5, we'll never be able to track where they took him."

"Prepare to drop to impulse.  We will run search pattern Delta 3 for the next hour."  T'Pol's voice ground out as she moved slowly toward the center chair on the bridge.

"Whadda ya mean, _the next hour_?" Tucker scowled at her.  "We gotta look until we find him."  All his anger came to a head, as he gripped his fists, prepared to fight T'Pol for the bridge.  The attack on Earth had left him irrational and in the mood to take a swing at someone.  If he couldn't go after the perpetrators of the massacre, he'd take on anyone who got in his way.

"Our orders were very specific, Commander Tucker."  She sat on the edge of Jonathan's chair, her feet pressed into the floor.  "Star Fleet expects us home."

"But not without the Cap'n."  He couldn't comprehend having to deal with the possible loss of his sister and his best friend all in the same day.  "And since when was Earth home to you?" He sneered.

"Lt. Reed, Ensign Sato take thorough readings of the area and scan for any possible warp signatures, but unless we have something concrete to go on, we will only continue to search for 57 more minutes. Is that understood?"  She looked around the bridge gauging the reaction of each of the members of the senior staff.  Many looked dismayed, but only Tucker appeared as if he might continue arguing.

Malcolm stood, and walked slowly across the bridge to place himself between his angry friend and T'Pol. His hand rested lightly on his side arm.  "Commander, it might be advisable for you to return to engineering." 

"Lieutenant."  Trip Tucker bared his teeth.  He couldn't believe that Malcolm had chosen the Vulcan over him!

"Commander Tucker."  T'Pol nodded her thanks to Reed, but this was her problem and she planned on dealing with it. The last thing she wanted was to cause a rift in the bridge crew.  Her eyes were cool as she watched both men.  '_Did the Humans think the decision was an easy one for me to make, just because I am Vulcan?' _She wondered as she felt everyone's eyes on her."Commander, I want to see you in Captain Archer's office in five minutes."  She stumbled over the missing man's name, as she slipped out of Jonathan's chair and moved carefully to his office.

Part of her felt dead inside.  The argument had only made it worse. She stopped her train of thought and regrouped. _'Vulcans do not argue, we discuss.' _She nodded to herself, that sounded much better, but she knew if she did not get behind closed doors quickly she would make a spectacle of herself, and at the moment she needed all her strength to keep the crew together and get them home.

From her station, Hoshi had watched as anger had eaten away at the man she loved.  It had blinded him to what was right in front of his eyes. '_How could Trip have missed how painful it had been for T'Pol, to make the decision she'd needed to make_?'  She was sure Malcolm had seen it.  Her stomach clenched and her hands shook when she thought what the outcome might have been if the Tactical Officer hadn't stepped in.  When she looked up the situation hadn't gotten any better.  Trip's eyes shot bullets at Malcolm, who had stiffly returned to his console.

……………….

The swish of the door closing, behind T'Pol, cut off the noises from the bridge but the silence was like a shot to the heart.  She caught her breath as she felt a strange sensation bubbling up in her throat.  If she had not known better she would be sure it was tears. She breathed deeply and looked around the small room.  "Please help me to find the correct words to deal with this," she whispered as she walked over to the window, where Jonathan had often watched the stars.  She could picture him clearly and almost heard his voice from months ago, when he had found out that the she was not going to be sent back to Vulcan in disgrace due to her Pa'nar Syndrome.  He had looked her in the eyes and told her he did not want to lose her.  "Then why do I keep losing you?"  She gasped, but the empty room only echoed back the sound of her voice, since there was no illogical Human to cup her shoulders and tell her everything would be all right.

Too soon her time alone was up. Commander Tucker knocked on the hatch.  She reached deep for her slowly depleting supply of Vulcan calm as she turned slowly and called out, for him to enter. By the time the hatch opened, her spine was straight and she was prepared to settle things once and for all with the Chief Engineer.

"Sub-Commander, you wanted to see me."  Trip Tucker's gait was stiff with anger and he stood carefully at attention, his gaze locked somewhere over her left ear.

T'Pol blinked to clear her face of any residual emotion and reminded herself that this man was Jonathan's friend. It had only been a few hours since he had learned that a portion of his planet had been wiped out and it was likely his family was dead.  On Vulcan that would not have mattered, but she kept asking herself, '_how would Jonathan handle this?'_ "You realize that I could have you court-martialed after your actions on the bridge."

"Yes Ma'am."  Though he was tempted to step closer and crowd her private space, he knew it would do him more harm than good. 

She sensed his anger as it poured over her and she welcomed it.  It distracted her from the other strange things she felt.  _This she could handle_.  Tucker had made no secret of his distrust of Vulcans.  Though she and the Commander had gained a mutual respect of the others work over the last two years, and formed an uneasy friendship for Jonathan's sake, she chose to ignore all that. The overpowering emotions he had no practice shielding worked to her advantage.  They made it easy to straighten her spine, clasp her hands behind her back and face him down.  

"You have two choices, Commander Tucker."  Her chin rose and her eyes grew frostier.  "You will give me your word that this will never happen again, and then report to Dr. Phlox for a thorough check-up.  You have been under a great deal of strain since you learned of the attack on your home world.  I shall assume that was the cause of your outburst and nothing more will be said of it.  Or you can continue to give me trouble and I will have you confined to your quarters, where you will remain until we reach Earth.  The choice is yours!"

"Sub-Commander…" He looked at her closely for the first time, since he'd seen her with Phlox, the day before in decon. What he saw, threw a bucket of cold water on his anger. Her skin was pale, and her eyes were bright with a damp sheen.  If she weren't a Vulcan, he'd swear she was fighting to keep from crying.  "Ma'am, I'm sorry, I shouldn't of disagreed with you publicly.  But we just can't leave Jon behind!"  Over the years his commanding officer had become like a brother to him.  It was too much loss to comprehend, both Lizzie and Jonathan in the same day! 

"We have little choice in the matter." She turned away, uncomfortable that Tucker stared at her and unsure as to how much he could read on her face. "The longer we remain, the greater the danger that we will be discovered.  Not only do the Suliban know our present course, but I believe that the Klingons who had the Captain are not far behind us.  Jonathan's primary concern was always this ship and her crew."

"But he's alive, I just know it!"  He watched T'Pol fidget with small items that Archer had left on his desk.  Her hand kept going back to a palm computer that the Cap'n usually carried with him.  For a moment he was hypnotized by the way her finger played across the small monitor.  It was as if she were trying to wipe its surface clean of a stain only she could see. 

"I would like him returned as much as you would."  She cleared her throat as she felt it closing. _'I want him back so much more than you will ever know.' _She blocked the thought as it surfaced. It would do her no good to dwell on something that was out of her control.  "But I will not sacrifice this ship." Knowing she was doing what Archer would have wanted her to do was all that kept her going. "We are no match for the Suliban, and I have no wish to test our strength against a squadron of Bird's Of Prey. At the moment Earth needs Enterprise in one piece! That is my primary concern." Her voice ground to a whisper as her hand clasped the palm computer that had been found on Shuttlepod One when Archer and Tucker had been almost taken to Canamar.  She was never able to look at the small device without remembering Jonathan's bloody fingerprint on the screen.

Trip couldn't believe what he was seeing.  '_Was that honest to goodness emotion that_ _filled T'Pol's face_?' Suddenly it all made sense. He remembered other things that hadn't seemed to fit, but now fell into place.  Her present bright eyes and pinched expression, her almost obsessive actions when Jon had been captured by the Klingons, and the expression on her face when he and Archer had been returned from the prison ship. '_Damn, she cares 'bout Jon, she really does and it's tearin her to bits to have to leave him behind.'_  She was grieving for his loss, but doing her best to hide it behind her Vulcan calm.  Tucker had a sneaking suspicion that if she hadn't been ill recently, he never would have seen through the mask she usually kept tightly in place.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry."  He wasn't sure which he was apologizing for, his actions, or her pain.  Either way he wanted her to know he would stop fighting her.  "I never shoulda questioned your decision in front of others.  With Jon gone, it makes you actin Cap'n.  I'll back you up sames I'd do him, and if I disagree with ya, I'll tell you bout it in private, just like I'd do him.  Now I best get to Sickbay, so I can get back to my engines.  Goin at warp 5 for the next month and a half is gonna be hard on em."

"Dismissed, Commander, and thank you."  She lowered her mental shields for a moment, not completely trusting Tucker's actions, but all she felt was sorrow and loss, none of the anger and hostility that had accompanied his earlier exchange with her.

"I shoulda done it in the first place."  He had been in the wrong and felt lucky he wasn't being locked up somewhere.  As the words left his mouth, the lights dimmed again, and the ship stumbled in a momentary loss of power.  In the seconds it took for it to right itself, T'Pol and Trip had made it from the captain's office to the bridge, where they found Jonathan Archer materializing in the exact spot where he had been standing when he was taken. His face was marked with anger and his eyes hard.

"Cap'n!"  Trip called out and gripped his friend's arm. "What the hell happened!" 

"How long was I gone?" Jonathan couldn't take his eyes off T'Pol. She leaned against the wall, as if she needed support to stand. '_Why is she gripping my hand computer, as if her life depended on it?' _ The random thought shook him almost as much as his time with the Suliban.

"If the ship's chronometer is correct, 37 minutes and 12 seconds."  She licked her lips as she replied in a voice that only Hoshi, with her magic ear, could tell was strained. '_It had_ _seemed like a lifetime_,' but she could not admit it, even to herself.

"Why are we running at impulse?"  He turned to the helmsman and ordered, "warp 5, for Earth, Mr. Mayweather."  His eyes swept the bridge and he saw relief written on everyone's face, but there was no time for explanations.  He needed to talk about what had happened to him, with the one person who would be the hardest to convince.  Unfortunately it was essential to him, and possibly Earth, that he was able to make her believe him.  "T'Pol you're with me."  As Enterprise's engines throbbed to life, he turned on his heel and headed for his office.

…………………….

After the Captain and T'Pol left the bridge, Trip cleared his throat and walked quietly over to Malcolm Reed.  "I'm sorry, I acted like an ass. Thanks for bein' sure I didn't get my sorry butt kick outta Star Fleet."

"Anytime, Sir."  Reed grinned.  "I'm sure you'd do the same for me."  His eyes glinted with relief.  It had always gone against his grain to fraternize with superior officers, but on a ship the size of Enterprise, during a long mission, it was hard to draw on the more traditional lines of military life. Sometime in the last two years he and Trip had become friends.

"Malcolm, I gotta ask, would you really have pulled that thing on me?"  He nodded toward the phase pistol the tactical officer had started wearing after they had found out about the attack on Earth.

He shrugged and tilted his head.  "I can tell you this much, I wouldn't have killed you.  You still owe me money from last week's poker game."

"Remind me to always stay in your debt."  Trip muttered.  He had one more person he needed to speak with before heading to Sickbay.

Malcolm watched as Trip sauntered over to Hoshi's station.  All he could do was shake his head.  It had been a close call and one he hoped he'd never have to make again.  Military tradition was deeply imbedded in his family.  One obeyed a superior officer, even when the outcome was not always what one would like.  It made his insides quake to think how close Trip had come to attempted mutiny.  Reed hadn't liked the idea of leaving the Captain behind any better than anyone else, but he'd gained a huge amount of respect for the Sub-Commander in the last few months.  He realized it wasn't a decision she'd made lightly: Earth's first warp 5 vessel, versus her Captain.  He understood as he was sure T'Pol did, the important part Enterprise would play in Earth's future, if things were as bad as they appeared to be.    

Trip stood looking down at Hoshi and prayed he had the strength to go through with what he had planned. When Jon had disappeared his one thought had been, '_God, now all I got is Hoshi, how'm I ever goin to keep her safe?' _ He knew deep down that too many outside forces conspired against him to be able to ever do that.  She was in as much danger as the rest of them.  He was already feeling the pain of the possible loss of a sister.  The only thing he could do to protect himself from deeper darker hurts was to distance himself from those he cared most about.  There was nothing he could do about Lizzie, the pain he felt told him that the worst had happened.  But as long as Hoshi was alive he had a chance of pulling away before it was too late.

"Hosh," he leaned close to her station so no one overheard him.  "I gotta cancel out on tonight.  You were right in the first place.  Involvement doesn't belong on this ship.  It's too damn small!"

"But…" She could only look at him in surprise.  All the pain and confusion of the last 24 hours was written on his face. All she wanted to do was pull him close and support him anyway she could.

"No buts, Ensign.  I'll be in Sickbay if the Cap'n needs me."  He turned and made it to the lift without once looking back, when all he wanted was to seek comfort in Hoshi's arms.  He'd set a hard task for himself, but he could do it if he held tightly to his pain and reminded himself everyday, how much worse it could be.

……………………..

T'Pol listened to Jonathan's story about the Suliban and the man from the future for the third time.  Something inside of her refused to believe it.  It went back to the argument they had had months ago when they had found the unusual ship floating in space.  Phlox had done DNA scans of the long dead pilot.  If his information was to be believed, the dead man on that ship had been the descendent of a Human, a Vulcan and a number of other alien species.

Prior to that, she had been beginning to believe that Jonathan was correct, and the Vulcan Science Directorate's information was outdated: maybe time travel was not against the logical laws of physics.  But from the moment the Doctor had told them about the Human-Vulcan cross breeding she had refused to budge on the issue.  It had become a logical loop, if time travel could exist, then it was also possible that Humans and Vulcans would someday be mixing chromosomes. It was something that hit too close to home, especially after all the odd dreams she had been having lately.

"T'Pol…Sub-Commander?"  Archer looked up and saw her staring off into space.  It was the first time he'd taken a good look at her in hours.  She appeared tired and drawn.  He felt it pull at his heart, especially when he remembered how she'd looked the night before in Sickbay. '_I can't think about that now,'_ he blocked the soft warm feeling, by remembering instead stark pictures that had been taken of a trench of fire that still burned on Earth.

They were headed back home, armed with new information that might save his planet.  If he had his way, they would be turning around and going back out, as soon as he could arrange it.  Suddenly it had all come down to this moment and this mission.  Everything he had thought he could do had been wiped away by one call from Admiral Forrest.  If the man from the future was correct and the attack on Earth was not supposed to have happened, he was already feeling the change in history.  Where before he had known in his heart that T'Pol would someday be his, now he only knew that she would not be safe with him. They had run out of time.  With the shots fired from the Xindi weapon, it had forever separated his future from hers, and he'd better get used to it.

"Are you all right Sub-Commander?"  He moved closer to her and touched her shoulder.

"I am fine, _Captain_."  She whispered his title, very aware that he had called her by hers.  Up until now, whenever they were alone, they had been on a first name basis.  Things were slipping out of her grasp before she could figure out what they were.

"You don't look it."  His smile was tight and professional.  "You go to bed, we'll finish this discussion tomorrow, dismissed, Sub-Commander."

She blinked at his formality.  His order was clear and it took her breath away.  "Good night, Captain."  She murmured as she headed for the hatch.

……………………….

Enterprise was quiet.  Most of the crew, who didn't have the night shift, had gone to bed.  The news from Earth had gotten worse all day and everyone was exhausted.  Malcolm Reed walked though the empty corridors heading for the gym.  He usually worked out in the morning, but tonight he couldn't sleep. 

The small gym was empty, or so he thought, until he heard grunts followed by the clang of weights.  He walked around the machines until he could see the free weight area, and there on a bench-press, was a small slim redheaded woman who had been in the back of his mind all day long.  He couldn't help smiling as he watched Graham.  She lay on her back, with her feet on the floor.  He always admired women with long legs, and though hers were shorter than he usually liked, they were much longer than he'd realized. She was slim and attractive, even with her hair hanging free off the bench and her face damp with sweat. 

"Ensign, you're not supposed to do that without a spotter."  He had moved to her head and looked down at her as he grabbed the bar that held the weights to keep her from dropping it when he caught her off guard.  "See what I mean."

"You startled me!"  Her eyes looked way up, Malcolm Reed was the last person she had expected to see tonight.  She was well aware of his workout schedule and always tried to be in the gym when she knew she wouldn't run into him.

"Sorry about that."  He grinned at her and didn't look the least bit sorry.  "Come on, finish up with the reps before your muscles get cold.  I'll spot for you, then you can do the same for me."

"Thank you, Sir, I've only got one more set to go."  She gripped the bar on either side of his hand, and felt the warmth of strength move through her muscles as her pecs, shoulders, abs, and even her back worked to push the weighted bar in correct form. Her eyes were locked with his and she almost forgot to exhale.

"You know, Graham, when Commander Tucker and I spot for each other, he calls me Malcolm, and I call him Trip."  His voice was soft in the quiet gym and he reached for the bar that had begun to tilt as he had spoken. "Easy there.  You really shouldn't be doing this alone."

"I was doing just fine until you came along and broke my concentration, _Malcolm_!"  She gritted her teeth as she finished the set.

"Then I guess we're even, because you've been breaking mine all day long."  He tossed her the towel and sweatshirt that was folded in the corner by the bench press and began adding weights to the bar.  "My turn now."  He couldn't help the grin that passed over his face when he looked at her.  He'd been right, '_girly-girl all right_!'  Her sweatshirt was a faded pink, with the old slogan: Girls Pump Iron Too.

"Pardon me?"  She gaped at him, as he positioned the weight bar in its holders and lay on the bench.

"I said it's my turn, since you're here I don't have to settle for the stationary bike."

"No wait, I was asking about what you said before that?"  She automatically moved into place at the head of the press to look down at him and assist with the weights if need be.

"You heard me, and it's something we need to discuss."  He pushed the weighted bar up as he exhaled.  Stopping just short of completely straight arms he slowly inhaled while he fought gravity as the weights moved back toward his chest.  "When we're through here, why don't we see what Chef left in the galley?  We never did get to have that meal together."  Since he was a man who never started a new task until he'd finished the one he was on, that was exactly what they did.

Malcolm wasn't sure why he asked to see more of her.  It went against everything he believed to be correct standards of protocol.  But ever since he had heard about the destruction on Earth, there had been a battle going on inside of him.  The part of him who was the tactical officer knew it was folly to get involved with a woman when the odds were so high that Earth would be going to war.  But the other part of him that was a man, wanted nothing more than to build a relationship.  He had been thinking along those lines the night before, but with all that had happened, a new urgency was added to it.

Graham was lovely and she spelled disaster for his focus.  He'd known that the night before, as well, but much had changed in the last twenty-four hours.  He laughed at himself when he thought about it.  He had gone through life as a solitary man because he'd always believed he would die in a great battle fighting against huge odds.  Now that he was faced with the very real possibility of that coming true, he didn't want to do it, having never really loved or been loved. It was the realization of that selfish urge that had made him try to push her out of his life that morning.  Now finding her again in the gym at midnight, he figured it was fate telling him to take a chance.

………………………

T'Pol tossed and turned as dreams filled her sleep, **_she was asleep in Jonathan's arms, in his bed, in his quarters.  It felt natural, it felt right, he loved her and she loved him.  There was something more, but her mind shied away from it. Even in her sleep she knew she was seeing the future as it should have been_, _before the Xindi attacked and changed everything._**

"No," she gasped as she sat up in bed and remembered all she'd dreamt.  _Everything that_ _Jonathan had told her she must not remember_ came crashing down upon her.  She had traveled in time.  _'I could not have. It was only a dream!'_  "That was it, another one of the dreams that have been plaguing me," she whispered.  "I was only having a dream.  I should have meditated for much longer tonight."

Even as the words slipped from her mouth she slid out of bed and pulled on a robe over her sleeping clothes.  She hurried down the corridor to the lift and the one person she could talk to.

"Yes?"  A sleepy Hoshi answered her door.  Some small part of her had held out the hope that Trip had changed his mind, though she'd tried one more time to talk to him, but he'd closed her out then, as well. She wasn't sure which surprised her more, the idea of Trip seeing reason, or finding Sub-Commander T'Pol looking back at her from the other side of the threshold.

"Ensign, you once offered me tea if I ever needed to talk."  She held up a thermos of hot water she had gotten from the galley. "I'm sorry to have awakened you, I'll come back some other time when it is not an intrusion."

"No wait," Hoshi opened her door all the way and stepped back.  Something must be very wrong to have T'Pol show up on her doorstep at 0145.  "Please come in Ma'am."  She pulled a robe on over her thigh length nightgown, then got her Grandmother's tea box from her dresser and began brewing the aromatic roasted green tea leaves in a plain brown glazed pot that had been in her family for generations.  "Please sit down."  

The two women sat on the floor of Sato's cabin; Hoshi with her back against her bed and T'Pol cross-legged as if she were about to meditate.  Between them there was the delicate old teapot and two small handleless cups.  As the tea steeped, it filled the room with a light fragrance that calmed the Vulcan and filled the Human with memories of an old woman who had taught her the joys to be found in complex languages.

"I'll pour for you and you for me."  The young Japanese woman smiled at her guest.  "It's considered bad luck to pour your own tea, when others are present." 

"Luck?"  T'Pol raised her eyebrow, but let her tea be poured for her, then reached for the pot and did the same for Hoshi.

"It is a custom my grandmother taught me."

"Family customs are import to Vulcans as well."  When phrased that way, T'Pol understood completely.

"Now what is so important that it got you out of bed at this time of night?"  Hoshi knew it wasn't ship's business, or they wouldn't be sitting here drinking tea.

"Dreams," T'Pol whispered as she held the small cup to warm her suddenly cold hands.  "I am unaccustomed to dealing with them and lately my sleep is full of them."

"I know what you mean."  Suddenly Hoshi's eyes filled with tears and she reached for a tissue.  "I'm sorry, you didn't come here to see me cry.  Lately I've been doing a lot of that."  She tried to laugh it off, but it didn't work.

"You have been having dreams that make you hurt right here?"  The Vulcan placed her hand below her right breast and slightly to the side. Approximately where the middle of a Human's liver was located.

"If you mean your heart, then yes."  Sato giggled at the difference in Human-Vulcan anatomy.  "For me it's caused by love."  Hoshi decided it was safer to keep things on a personal level, she was pretty sure she knew who the man was who would cause a Vulcan to have such dreams, but it wasn't her place to name any names.  

"I do not understand this emotion, love."  She swallowed and tried to make her face appear cool and calm.  "Vulcans have a high regard for family.  It is especially strong between parents and children.  Overtime it usually develops between bondmates, though I have heard of instances where it does not.  This emotion is highly regarded by Humans.  Songs are written about it.  There are books and poems dedicated to it.  It appears to be an all consuming emotion, but it is totally illogical that it should be so, when it can cause such pain even while one sleeps."

"It's an emotion that just happens."  Hoshi shrugged.  "I didn't plan on falling in love with Trip or anyone else for that matter.  I came on this mission to do a job, but he and I became friends, then we were close friends and suddenly all I could think about was him."

"I see, then if it is an emotion like all the rest, it should be easy to submerge it with meditation."  The words were spoken so quietly that Hoshi wasn't sure the Vulcan realized she'd said them out loud.

"T'Pol, many Humans believe that a person's dreams are their subconscious trying to tell them something, which they refuse to see when they are awake."   Hoshi was on thin ice and she knew it, but something had happened to have upset her friend badly and she wanted to see if she could make it right for her. "Emily Bronte is one of my favorite authors.  She wrote a book called Wuthering Heights, in there she says:  'I've dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas.  They've gone through and through me, like wine through water and altered the color of my mind.'"

As Hoshi spoke, T'Pol could only stare.  It was as if the younger woman had seen her thoughts.  Had these dreams changed her or was she dreaming because she had changed?  It was a frightening thought to a woman who did not know the meaning of the word fear until she had joined the Earth ship Enterprise and let its captain become important to her.

"Thank you Hoshi," she whispered.  "I shall keep your words in mind."  T'Pol rose needing the privacy of her own quarters to think through all she had discovered.  "Commander Tucker loves you very much."

"No, he doesn't.  If I'd had doubts, tonight proved it to me once and for all."  A lone tear ran down Hoshi's face as she stood to follow her guest to the door.

"Vulcans are sensitive to emotions.  It is necessary for me to keep my mental shields tightly in place or I would be overpowered by the feelings Humans express as a part of their daily lives."  She held the door open but looked back over her shoulder at the young woman who had been so kind to her.  "The Commander has suffered a great loss.  Give him time.  I can feel his love for you whenever, you are in the same room."

All the way back to her quarters, T'Pol could not shake the memory of what Hoshi had said.  Dreams that had gone through and through her, like wine through water and altered the color of her mind.  As she was drifting off to sleep she could not help asking herself, 'but what if they were not dreams?'

……………………………..

Jonathan Archer had been wandering the halls of Enterprise for hours.  Restlessness and worry had kept him awake.  When he had first started walking, he'd ended up in front of T'Pol's hatch.  As he'd reached for the bell, he'd known instinctively that she was not there, and he'd gone on his way, never questioning how he'd obtained the certain knowledge.

He'd passed the open Mess Hall door and smiled to himself when he'd seen Malcolm and Ensign Morgan talking quietly over coffee and a shared slice of cake.  He was happy to see the usually stern Tactical Officer relaxed, but the sight of the couple pulled at feelings he had hoped to bury deep within him.   On any given night it was usually the Captain and First Officer of Enterprise who could be found quietly sipping tea in a partially darkened Mess. Another of the many habits he was going to have to break.

His restlessness took him to Sickbay. 'Maybe Phlox was in and would be open for a chat.'  But tonight the lights were off and the Doctor was relaxing in his quarters, instead of minding a patient as he had done the night before.  Jonathan slid up onto the biobed he'd slept on the previous night.  Sitting in the quiet and dark his head fell forward onto his chest and he wished with all his heart that he could turn back time.  He knew it was the coward's way out, but if only he'd told T'Pol that he loved her before the shit had hit the fan.  If only he'd held onto her the night before and never let her go.  He'd been a fool and made a fool's mistake to take her lightly.  Now he would pay for it for the rest of his life.

"I'm sorry," he whispered because suddenly he felt her presence as if she were sleeping in the room where she had last night.  "I'm so sorry it's come to this."  It was one of those odd moments he'd been feeling for months now, almost as if their minds met in a dream that went through and through him, and stayed with him forever.

TO BE CONTINUED Please review, the author loves to be fed.


	15. And The Stars Shall Light The Way

Notes: Thanks you to all who have been following my story.  I hope you will enjoy how I've ended it, as much as you have the chapters that have come before.  Phyllis Christie, the Lattelady

Rating:  very high PG-13 due to adult situations 

As always:  sections marked with ** and hopefully in italics** will be memories, dreams or something from the past and 'italics' are thoughts.

To Monica:  This chapter is dedicated to my wonderful beta reader.  I added the conversation and interaction you requested, thanks for the help. 

Ch 15 And The Stars Shall Light The Way

Dr. Phlox had been putting long hours of his personal time into a special research project and it was finally beginning to give him results.  The practice of Denobulan medicine was firmly based in prevention and the use of natural substances. Like all of his species, he believed it was much better to deal with the cause of an illness or disability, than to clean up the mess afterward. For that reason, genetic engineering was a corner stone of medical arts on his world.  

He had begun his project for two reasons, and liked to think the most important had been intellectual curiosity. It had started with a body Enterprise had found on a derelict ship floating in space.  It was speculated that both the craft and its pilot were from the future.  The genotype of the dead man appeared to be the product of many different alien species, some of which could not have produced a child without help from the scientific community. 

_'The second reason,'_ he smiled sadly to himself, _'well the second reason may no longer_ _exist_.'  He had seen a growing attachment between Captain Archer, clearly Human, and Sub-Commander T'Pol, very definitely Vulcan.  The part of him that wanted only good things to happen to good people had speculated that one day they might join and want to have a child.  If that were to happen, they would need considerable help from a branch of medicine, which given the political climate, would likely be against it.

The Doctor fed his latest findings into the computer.  Again and again his stumbling block had been how to engineer a healthy offspring when one parent had iron as the basis of his oxygen caring blood cells and the other had copper.

While he waited for the analysis of his latest attempt, he worked on another of his interests, his growing fascination with Humans and how they interacted under stress. "Computer, Medical Log continued."  He cleared his throat and put his feet up as he began to speak:

            "I've noticed an interesting phenomena over the last four weeks.  It began with the attack on Earth by an unknown probe.  Humans, the most emotional and erratic species I've had the pleasure of working with to date, seem to close themselves off emotionally when faced with a crisis of this magnitude and uncertainty. 

            A closer look at some of them, led to the enlightening discovery, that not all emotions were being shut down, just the ones that were beneficial to their happiness. Anger and aggression are present, but so far have been confined to socially acceptable areas.  I've treated countless injuries from over exertion in the gym.

            Many of the crew are exhibiting classic symptoms of depression, while others appear to have hardly been touched by the incident.  The one thing that is true of them all is that they are following a typical Human pattern of grieving, but everyone is at a different stage.  Strangest of all, the strong sense of community, which is typical of Humans everywhere they go, is missing. 

            Commander Tucker is a prime example.  He carries his pain close at all times. It helps him push away the two people who need him the most and could be a comfort to him, if his worst fears are confirmed, and his sister was indeed killed in the attack.   Since he is the man behind Movie Night, it's been an easy task to judge how he was faring mentally by the films he would inflict on the crew each Tuesday night.

            We've sat through two of them depicting Earth's Second World War.  He seemed particularity fond of showing ones that centered on the attack of Pearl Harbor.  I've seen an actor called John Wayne, of all the odd names for a hero; seek revenge for the damages done during that battle, twice now.

            I'm not sure how to judge last week's movie.  Someone, possibly the Captain, encouraged him to change his subject matter.  Instead of more traditional war movies we were treated to the first part of a three-part epic of good over evil.  This was a delightful and moving story called The Lord Of The Rings, The Fellowship Of the Ring.  I for one can't wait to see tonight's installment of the trilogy, though I believe some of the characters hit a bit close to home for two of the viewers.

            Captain Archer and Sub-Commander T'Pol had made it a habit to enjoy the movies together since the first time he was able to drag her to the viewing of _Frankenstein_, a number of months ago.  But after the probe's attack on Earth, and the recall of Enterprise, the Captain has put a distance between them. A week ago, the Sub-Commander had attended with Hoshi.  The ladies were sitting directly in front of me, so I couldn't help overhearing T'Pol's response when the elf Arwen told Aragorn the Human, that she would gladly trade her immortal life for a mortal one, to be spent with him.  It was evident that the Sub-Commander had read the book and the passage was not in it, by her anxious whisper to her companion.

            The Captain's response had been more interesting.  He got up and left! It was a most telling turn of events.  Though even more enlightening was the tilt of T'Pol's head as her eyes followed his back out of the Mess Hall, and the comforting pat on the hand she received from Hoshi.

            I have been observing Archer and T'Pol as their feelings for one another have built over the last two years, the same can be said for Ensign Sato and Commander Tucker, but in this time of stress instead of turning to the person who could be the most support to them, the men in particular, appear to be cutting themselves off from the women who they need the most.  I believe it is what Humans call '_licking their wounds'_.

            There is a notable exception to all this.  Lt. Reed, the last man who I would have expected to become involved with someone at this time of impending war, seems to have finally noticed that lovely Ensign Morgan.  The woman has had a crush on him for eons, and it has taken this disaster to bring them together.  Though they are both too reserved for a show of public affection, I did notice them holding hands in the darkened movie.  Besides I am a Denobulan male, and can pick up the scent of pheromones a mile away.  I wonder if I should take it upon myself to speak to them.  If they don't act on the urges they are suppressing, soon the entire crew will know about it. 

            Ahhh Humans, such an interesting species, and with a Vulcan thrown in the mix, it adds a variable that makes it all the more interesting to watch their behavior.  It's unfortunate that because of my regard for the people involved I find I am unable to write a paper for the IME, my colleagues would find it most enlightening.

We are due to arrive in Earth's orbit in sixteen days.  It should be interesting to see how getting 'home' and the verification of the damage will effect the crew."

Phlox reached for his cup of tea and realized that while he'd been adding to his log, the main computer had finished its analysis.  "Yes, yes, very good."  He mumbled to himself as he read the results,"99.5% viability, very good indeed."  The secret had been in finding the right combination of red and green blood cells and reengineering the bone marrow to create them in the correct proportion.  Once that was done it had been a simple matter to tag them so white blood cells didn't mistake them as a foreign body to be attacked and wiped out.

"Computer, place all files in Phlox research study number 10, under password Future Perfect, voice lock it with access allowed only to myself, Sub-Commander T'Pol and Captain Archer, verify using voice prints stored in Security."

"Dr. Phlox are you in?"

"Coming."  He quickly turned off his screen and left his office.  "Sub-Commander, what can I do for you this evening?"

"I would like an analgesic for a headache."  She stood straight and watched him as he picked up his medical scanner.

"Hmmm, this is the third one you've had since we've headed back toward Earth."  The Doctor scanned her carefully.  After her bout of fever brought on by a microbe she'd picked up on a planet they'd been exploring, he was keeping a watchful eye on her health.  "Your hormones are back to normal and have been for the last ten days."

"I am well aware of that Doctor."  T'Pol's brow arched in challenge.  For two weeks after her fever, her body had been in disharmony with her mind, and it had gone through some physical changes it would have been hard for her to miss. The experience gave her new respect for her Human counterparts that went through the unusual mind and body changes every 28 days.  "You need not worry, I am back to where I was before the incident."

"Physically perhaps, but what you went through would have been hard on anyone."  He scanned her one last time, but still the readings were the same.

"I am Vulcan, and perfectly capable of putting it all behind me."  Even as she spoke, she wondered if that were truly so.  Her premature Pon Farr, had triggered more than her hormones.  It had given life to odd dreams that were almost like memories.

"But I'm not."  Phlox picked up a hypospray and injected her with a muscle relaxant at the base of the neck. "If I hadn't been able to synthesize an antidote, you might have died.  What do I do when your body goes through that naturally?"  He could see her stiffen at the question.  Vulcans didn't discuss their sexuality with outsiders.  There was nothing in any database that he knew of that covered their mating rituals or body cycles.

"You need not worry about it."  She turned to go.  To talk of such private matters even to a physician was unheard of.

"T'Pol, please, I know this is difficult for you, but it can't be any worse than having to watch you go through it."  He had protected her as best he could at the time, though he suspected that Lt. Reed had seen more than either of the officers would have liked.

"I believe you were correct when you deduced that the fever caused by the microbe, could only be cured by destroying the pathogen that created it."  She licked her lips remembering bits and pieces of what had happened while locked in decon with the physician. "I am an unbonded female.  It was unnatural for me to be in the condition I was in."  She believed that the Pon Farr symptoms she had felt were a small dose of what Vulcan males experienced every seven years. But since they are usually bonded when it happens, there is another mind and body to support the process.  For the first time she realized why it could kill a male if he did not mate.  The loneliness, pain and wash of emotions in a singular Pon Farr would be a death sentence to even the strongest.  Though a fight to the death was said to alleviate the symptoms, it was not something her experience allowed to imagine.

"Something as simple as the bonding ceremony can cause that response?"  A number of years ago, Phlox has spent three years doing research on an isolated space station in the Vega system, with a bonded couple. There was never a hint in their relationship that they had experienced anything of the magnitude that he had observed in T'Pol.

"The actual ceremony is irrelevant, except for its political, and legal aspects. All the words spoken by priests will make no difference, unless the couple involved has already formed an attachment.  Now if you will excuse me, I am needed elsewhere." 

"Wait, one more question, if I may."  An idea was eating away at Phlox and it had been ever since T'Pol had told him about Pon Farr.  "If I understand this correctly, an unbonded Vulcan could in theory become attached to anyone, even if no formal bonding had taken place?"

She stopped as the words sunk in.  It took her a moment to gain tight control of something deep in her that wanted to roar to the surface.  "A male will go through Pon Farr every seven years of his adult life. Your hypothesis would be limited to females, but none-the-less it is theory only.  Vulcans do not dabble in casual contact of mind or body.  For a bond to be created, some physical, and a good deal of mental intimacy are necessary."

"Most interesting."  Phlox remembered seeing her sleeping in Archer's arms months ago.  He knew how the Captain felt about her, and couldn't help wondering about the deep abiding trust she displayed for the Human.  When she had been suffering in decon, it had been Archer she had called out to on more than one occasion.  That in itself had made the doctor wonder about their closeness.  This new information about Vulcan mating habits only confirmed what he believed, that somehow, T'Pol and Jonathan Archer had become bonded.  Since it was against everything Vulcans believed, T'Pol was in denial and until she saw the truth for what it was, Archer was left in the dark as to what had happened.

"Doctor, what I have told you was to relieve your worry.  It is not public knowledge and I wish it to remain that way."  She stood straight with her hands cupped behind her back, and had never looked more Vulcan.  It was hard for Phlox to picture the woman before him going through the anguish he had seen her display only a few weeks ago.

"I am a firm believer in doctor-patient confidentiality, Sub-Commander, your secret is safe with me."  He smiled as he moved to a more comfortable topic.  "Are you planning on attending tonight's movie?"

"No, I am not."  The story had been fascinating and visually it had been pleasant, but she had found it unsettling to watch a creature that looked so Vulcan express so much emotion.  "Now at least I understand the Human's fascination with my specie's ears.  Good evening, Doctor." 

………………………

The trip home had been stressful for the entire crew.  Despite angry Klingons and interference from the Suliban, Enterprise was finally in a parking orbit high above Earth.  Archer had been called to an emergency meeting at Star Fleet Headquarters in San Francisco almost as soon as they had arrived.  No one knew how long he'd be gone, but they all waited with quiet resolution, almost as if they were aware that whatever was decided could very well be a hinge point for humanity.

Star Fleet had sent photos of the area hit by the probe, hours after the attack, when it was still a burning trench, and then a week later when the fires were finally extinguished. But watching from orbit, while the damaged area slowly slid past, had taken many by surprise. T'Pol had heard Ensign Morgan say that seeing it like that, finally made it real to her.  The statement had no logic, but the Vulcan had read the same reaction in many of the crew.

……………………..

T'Pol turned over in bed, her mind seeking until it found a trace of the one she sought.  Her thoughts traveled over distances that could not be marked by any physical science in the known universe.  It was as if time and space had looped upon itself, then wrapped around her until she was carried to a place that could not exist according to the Vulcan Science Directorate. 

_**'Jonathan,' her thoughts whispered to the future, as the Human covered her body with his and held her close.  For a moment she began to panic as logic tried to reassert itself. 'You said I was not to remember.' _

_'Easy Love, the time is growing near for you to remember and believe.'  The sure grasp of their bond calmed her. 'Be strong and trust me.' He kissed her as she held him tightly to her. "Know I was and will always be with you.'_ **         

A sharp knock on her door woke her from a dream that could not be!  They were becoming harder and harder to block with meditation, and she was spending more time staring into a candle flame that brought her no peace. It took her a moment to realize the knock had been real and not part of a disjointed dream.

"Come in."  She shivered as she wrapped her blanket around her shoulders to give her warmth.  She knew without a doubt who was on the other side of her door and this was not the best time to be seeing him.

"T'Pol, I'm sorry to bother you so late, but I need to talk with you."  Jonathan Archer stood silhouetted in the open hatch.  He was still wearing his uniform and it was evident he had just returned from the surface.

"How did your meeting go with Admiral Forrest?"  She slid into the far corner of her bed, as he sat on the end of it.  She had a clear memory of them like that after they had defeated the cybernetic aliens that had escaped from Earth's artic circle.  Something had passed between them that night, which she chose to ignore. After her unusual dream tonight, she knew she needed to keep distance between them, or things would come to light that she was trying very hard to submerge.

"I think he believed me, but the final decision will be made by Command."  Jonathan leaned back against the bulkhead and turned his head toward the woman who was huddled as far away from him as she could get without moving across the room.  He wanted to ask her if _she _finally believed him, but every time they discussed what had happened on the Suliban ship, it created a conflict in her that was painful to watch.  There were times when he thought he could feel her butting her head against a mental wall. "I should know in the next few days if they'll let us go after the Xindi.  Soval was there, he said the coordinates I got from the Suliban were in the Delphic Expanse, ever hear of it?"

"No, there was no mention of it in Enterprise's Vulcan database. I checked for all information on those coordinates the day you gave them to me.  What did the Ambassador have to say about this Expanse?"  It was logical that the highest-ranking Vulcan on Earth was at the meeting, but since neither Earth, Vulcan nor the Captain, had required her presence, T'Pol had gone to bed early. She knew she would have to face the Ambassador sometime in the next few days, but it was important that he not be able to read the uncertainty that dogged her waking hours and the emotion that filled her sleep.   

Archer grunted and shook his head.  "Ya know I've noticed that there are a lot of things missing from that database."

"That has come to my attention as well."  She leaned forward and reached for his hand, but pulled back before hers made contact.  "I gather that Ambassador Soval tried to dissuade you from going."

"That's an understatement."  He smiled sadly at her.  "When the talking finally stops and Star Fleet Command realizes we're their best chance, I get the feeling Soval won't allow a Vulcan aboard."  

"But surely nothing has changed in two years.  He felt it was necessary for one of us to accompany you before, why not now?"  It took her breath away to think of all those that she had become close to, going on this dangerous mission and leaving her behind. 

"Maybe he thinks it'll stop me, but it can't.  There's too much at stake for anything to keep me from going."  He watched her, as her eyes grew huge and she fought to keep her face free of all emotion.  "T'Pol do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?" 

"Jonathan…"  For a moment she felt what he felt and her thoughts brushed against his in a way she had tried to deny for months.

"Shhhh it's okay."  His fingers touched her lips to keep her from saying the words he felt.  As long as they remained unspoken, nothing would change between them and now, more than ever, he needed it that way.  "We both should get some sleep, I'll see you in the morning."  He left her quickly before he could change _their_ minds.  As much as he wanted her, he knew that he couldn't be with her if it meant abandoning Earth.

…………………….

In a small cabin on B deck another man knocked at a door and was let in.  "Malcolm is everything all right?"  Graham Elizabeth Morgan hugged him as he entered.  She knew he'd been waiting up for the Captain's return and hadn't expected to see him that evening. It felt strange and a bit daring to find him on her doorstep and even more so to have let him in, since she was dressed for bed in a tank top and pajama bottoms. They had been playing it careful and smart up until now, and had avoided being alone in either's quarters since temptation was growing stronger everyday. 

"You know I can't talk about what's going on, until the Captain does."  As he put his arms around her, he rested his forehead against hers but not before grinning at her pink polished toenails. _'Oh yeah she was a girly-girl all right.'_  And for the life of him he couldn't understand why he'd always found them irritating.

"I'm asking about you, not the ship, silly."  She smiled at him.  Malcolm took himself too seriously at times and Graham was working hard to change that.

"Sorry, I should know better by now." He shrugged, unsure why he was unable to let his guard down.  He trusted her as much as he'd trusted any woman, but something in him just wouldn't allow him to let go.  "I promised Trip I'd go to Florida with him tomorrow, and frankly I'm dreading it."

"Hoshi is the one who should go with him."  Graham couldn't understand why the Commander was suddenly pushing her friend away, when just a few weeks ago he'd gone to great lengths to be alone with her. "She loves him and from what I've seen he loves her.  She would be able to give a lot more emotional support than even his closest male friend.  Somehow I don't see a sports metaphor being very helpful at a time like this." 

"I know, I tried to tell him, but he wouldn't listen to me."  Malcolm sighed, he had never really understood affairs of the heart, but from what he could see, Trip was mismanaging his.  "He mumbled something about keeping her safe, which didn't make the slightest bit of sense to me.  Though I can understand why he'd want to do that."

"Earth isn't any safer than Enterprise."  She felt him stiffen as she spoke about something she shouldn't have had any knowledge of.  "If we fail, or they don't send us, our planet is doomed.  And you can stop glaring at me like that Malcolm Reed."  Tears filled her eyes, when he looked at her with doubts, but she needed to clear some things up, and there was no time like the present!  "I may only be an Ensign but I'm not stupid.  None of us on this ship are.  Enterprise is the only ship capable of reaching warp 5, whoever hit Earth with that probe will be back for more, and it's up to us to stop them!"  She pulled out of his arms and moved to her small view port.  He'd hurt her badly with his doubts.

"Graham," he whispered as he cupped her shoulders and pressed his body against her back.  "I'm sorry."  He kissed the top of her head and leaned his nose into her hair.  She always smelled subtly of roses and he'd come to enjoy it more than he wanted to admit.

"Just don't ask me to stay behind."  She turned in his arms, blinking to hide tears she couldn't seem to control.  "Don't ask me to be less than I am, and I won't ask you either."

"I'd do almost anything to keep you safe."  His thumb ran gently under her left eye to catch the dampness that had escaped.

"I don't want to end up like Trip and Hoshi, both wanting to be together, but one of them always afraid of getting hurt."  Graham leaned into him and gently kissed his neck.  "Stay with me tonight, I don't know what we've been waiting for, and who knows how much longer we'll have."

"I've wanted to make love to you for weeks, but I'm a soldier and I can't give you any promises beyond right now."  He wasn't sure how the conversation had gone from the safe topic of ship's business to the very slippery one of _feelings_, so swiftly.  But he knew that what he said and did in the next few minutes would have a major impact on his life.

"Malcolm, you're more than a soldier, you're a warrior."  She smiled as she pulled him over to her bunk.  "But you're also the man I want.  One or both of us could die tomorrow, that's the way life is.  I don't want that to happen without making the most of the time we have now."  She sighed, suddenly shy, and unsure of herself.  "The only promise I want from you is that you'll always be honest with me.  If you want to move on or there is another woman, you'll tell me and not play games."

"That's one promise I can give you," it was hard for him to imagine letting her go for any reason. He pulled her close and slid his hands under the tank top she had worn to bed.  "What's this?"  His hand stopped when it come in contact with a warm metal ring in her navel.

"You've just discovered my wild side."  She chuckled in embarrassment and hid her face against his shoulder.  The navel ring had been a small act of defiance the night before Enterprise had left port.  She still wasn't sure why she'd done it, but never in the two years that she'd had it, did she regret it, not that anyone but her had seen it until now.

"Somehow I never pictured you as a wild woman."  He laughed at her shocked expression, "but I think I may have to reassess my position on that."  His fingers played with the small yellow gold hoop that she had in the upper rim of her navel, while she slowly unzipped his jumpsuit.  "You're a picture in contradictions and that is about the sexiest thing I've ever seen.  All good girl on the outside, but underneath there's passion and fire."

"Malcolm, I think you've been hanging out with the wrong type of women."  She whispered, but it caught in her throat as he pulled her tank top over her head and ran his hands over her body.

"You may be right about that."  He caught her as her knees gave out and followed her down to the bed.  

…………………

Much later he held her close, their bodies damp from exertion and sated from pleasure. "I'm glad you bothered to show me the error of my ways."  He whispered as he kissed her and marveled at the unexpected women he'd found under her feminine, rather conservative outer shell.  

Graham's very fair redhead skin was flushed and she could hardly keep her eyes open.  "Caught you by surprise did I?"  She grinned up at him.  "Hoshi says handcuffs are great, I'd like to try that."  She giggled obviously punch drunk with passion.

_'Hoshi, handcuffs?'_  Malcolm's mind froze. The words didn't fit in the same sentence, anymore than they did with Graham.  He must have misunderstood her.  "You're kidding, right?"

"Hhhmm, no," heavy lidded gray eyes fought to stay open.  "Is that too weird for you?"

"No, it's just that it's hard to picture, that's all."  Then suddenly he could picture her like that and desire pounded in his blood.  He rolled her beneath him and gripped her wrists as he pulled them high above her head. Her eyes flashed and he gently nibbled at her lips.  "In my experience it takes a woman who is very casual about sex to play games like that, and there is nothing casual about you."

"I think you have too much experience in some things and not enough in others."  She stretched her neck to kiss his chin inches above her. "What about a woman who trusts you completely because she loves you?  Because I do, I love you, Malcolm."

"Graham.." He pulled her closer as he felt warmth burst though him, to all the hollow empty places he'd carried with him for so long.  He wanted badly to tell her that he loved her too, because he was sure he did, but it seemed too much like a promise he wasn't sure he could keep, and he'd just given her his word he wouldn't do that to her.

 …………………………..

Three days later Archer received final word from Star Fleet: _the mission was on_.  At the same time a formal communiqué arrived from the Vulcan Embassy for Sub-Commander T'Pol.

"You wanted to see me, Captain."  T'Pol had been called to his Ready Room when she reported for her shift.

"Yes, sit down," he indicated absent-mindedly and began pacing.  "I just heard from Admiral Forrest. As soon as they finish Enterprise's armament refit and technical upgrades, we are ordered to head for the Delphic Expanse."  He'd been relieved when he'd returned from his initial meeting with the Admiral and Soval, three days earlier, and found techs and munitions specialists swarming his ship, as promised.  For once it looked like someone had cut the bureaucratic red tape.  "We're on a tight timetable, if all goes well we'll leave Earth's orbit by noon the day after tomorrow."

"What is it you are not telling me?"  Even if she had not been able to pick up the erratic emotions that he was unable to suppress, she would have known by the way he paced and swung his arms that there was a problem.

"This arrived for you, an hour ago."  He looked down at her and handed over his pocket computer, the one he always carried.  He'd downloaded her message from Enterprise's main communication board at the same time he'd gotten his from Forrest. 

"Thank you," T'Pol reached stiffly for the small device and stood to move to the view port as she read it.  She blinked as the words jumped off the screen and for just a moment let the silence in the room surround her. She realized that if she were a woman who let herself feel emotions, she would hate the device in her hands; it had brought her too much unwelcome news over the last year.  "Do you know what this says?"

"I can't read Vulcan, and even if I could, I don't read other people's mail."  He shrugged and wished she'd turn around so he could see her face.  "Though I've got a pretty good idea of its content."

"The High Command's official stand is that no Vulcan shall enter the Delphic Expanse.  I am being reassigned."  She stood very straight. When she was sure her expression was blank, and showed nothing of the inner turmoil that made her stomach clench, she turned to face him.  "It would appear you were correct.  The order is signed by Ambassador Soval." 

Even though he'd been expecting it, the news was like a punch in the gut, but Archer was determined not to let it show. He was not going to tarnish the good memories by a display of emotions here at the end.  Weeks ago when he'd first learned of the attack on Earth he'd known that everything had changed.  She was the only women he'd every wanted to spend his life with and now that could never be.  He doubted he'd ever see her again and was damned if he was going to make this difficult for her.  He forced a smile, and though he knew it was wrong, reached out for her in the only way she would find acceptable. 

"It's been a pleasure having you aboard Enterprise, Sub-Commander."  He cupped her shoulders and had to fight to keep from pulling her closer.

"Thank you, Captain." The formal sound of his words did not ring true to her ears.  "It has been an interesting experience."

"I bet it has."  His eyes twinkled as he thought of all the fun they'd had over the last two years. Then he grew sober and gripped her tighter for one last time.  "I wish you luck in your new position."

For just a moment, they stared at each other.  There was nothing in the universe but the two of them, as they brushed so close they could have almost been one, though neither of them moved an inch.  Jonathan nodded as if he'd heard a far off voice.  His arms dropped to his sides and he watched as T'Pol walked silently out of his office.  It wasn't until later that he realized she was still carrying his pocket computer.

……………………..

T'Pol had worked hard most of the day, trying to forget the new orders that were sitting on her desk.  She finally ended up in Sickbay.  It had seemed natural to seek out the only other alien aboard.  But their conversation had left her feeling hollow inside.  It was evident the Doctor was staying with Enterprise and had gone as far as to suggest she defy the High Command and do so herself.  The question he'd posed had been unsettling especially in light of the dreams that had been plaguing her lately.

_'Does your allegiance lie with the High Command or Captain Archer?'_  Phlox's words whispered through her mind and made her wonder what he knew that he was not talking about. '_What had she said or done when she was out of control during Pon Farr that might lead him to suspect ... suspect…suspect…What could he possibly know that she did not?'  _When her hands began to shake, she realized it was almost 1500 hours and she had eaten nothing all day.  '_That is the problem, I am hungry,' _she nodded accepting a physical reason for the physical response that she found disconcerting.

It was unsettling to discover the usually busy Mess Hall, deserted. Everyone had things to do, in preparation for the mission ahead.  Everyone except the Science Officer, she was being left behind!  For the first time in two years T'Pol felt alone and cut off from her shipmates.  Jonathan had hardly spoken to her since their meeting in his Ready Room that morning. Even now, he and Admiral Forrest were doing a flyby of the NX-02 at the orbital shipyard.  As she sipped her tea she could still feel his hands on her shoulders and see the look on his face as he had wished her well in her new endeavors.  _'Very soon she would be back on Earth, living at the Vulcan Compound.  Why did the thought cause her throat to close until she could hardly swallow, and a tightness to burn across her brow?' _

"May I join you Sub-Commander?"  Trip Tucker shuffled to the table by the window where she had been sitting gazing at the stars.  When he had first come in he thought she was ignoring him, but he soon realized her mind was occupied.

"If you like," she nodded toward the seat opposite her.  It was strange, '_that was where Jonathan usually sat during their late night talks.'_  But the talks had stopped with the Xindi attack.  Now, instead of meeting Archer at midnight, she settled for late afternoon, and the Chief Engineer who looked a bit the worse for wear.

"What ya doin' here so late in the day?"  

"I was consumed by my work and missed my usual meal time."  She sipped her tea and tried to think of a polite way to tell the man he offended her sensitive Vulcan sense of smell.  It was odd, she had spent long periods of time with Jonathan but instead of noticing the sharp Human odor that had been so distasteful to her in the beginning, she found his scent soothing.  Today the Commander made her nose twitch and she wondered why she had given up her nasal numbing agent.  She knew the fault did not lie with him, because despite the loss of his sister and the extra hours he had been working, he was his usual neat self.  But it was illogical that she would be sensitive to something she had overcome a year ago.  _'Evidently it was further proof that her day was not going well.  Extra meditation was needed!  That was the answer,'_ she nodded to herself.

"I know what ya mean.  I just keep working on my engines until I'm so tired I can't see straight. Cause if I don't, anger keeps eatin' me up inside. With all that anger, I just don't seem to have an appetite."  He sighed.  Ever since his sister's death there had been a huge gaping hole where his heart had been. It had made him do and say all the wrong things, to the few remaining people he cared most about.

"Have you discussed this with Ensign Sato?" 

"Actually that's what I came to talk to you about."  He looked her straight in the eyes and lied.  "I need a favor, for Hoshi."

"How may I be of service?" 

"I heard a rumor that you might not be goin' with us." When he'd first formed his plan, it had seemed reasonable, but now that it came to actually putting it into words, he wasn't so sure.

"That is correct, the High Command has made it clear I am not to enter the Expanse."  She took a mouthful of her salad and chewed, until the lump in her throat went away enough to allow her to swallow.  "But what does that have to do with Ensign Sato?"

"Hosh really loves the Vulcan language, especially the old stuff.  She was tellin' me that the only place you could see any of the ancient texts was on your planet.  She'd get real excited when she'd talk about it."  He stopped for a breath and to form his ideas into coherent words.  "I was wonderin' if you could fix it so she could study at your University?  Ya know, find her a job on Vulcan, before we head on out."

"What makes you think she would want that?"  Something was wrong here and T'Pol was not sure what it was.  "I doubt the Ensign would be willing to give up her position on Enterprise, especially with the importance of the mission ahead.  There is no one more qualified for her job.  When you return, I am sure I can secure her a spot in the linguistics department of the Vulcan Science Academy."

"No! You don't understand. It's gotta be now."  The anguish made his words almost a moan.  "She's gotta be somewhere where it's safe.  Please Sub-Commander, I know you and I have had our differences, but I gotta keep Hoshi safe.  It's gonna be too dangerous out there in the Expanse and if we fail, I don't want her on Earth."

T'Pol was hit by a wall of emotions.  Anger, fear, pain and something else she could not identify pounded her mental shields.  Her fork slid from her fingers and clattered on the table as she blinked at him while trying to filter out feelings to find the message in the psychological barrage, which had come her way. 

A flash of emotions leaked through her shields and she received a kaleidoscope of images all focused on Ensign Sato.  The young woman's face displayed all the different feelings T'Pol had picked up from Trip.   But the last was enough to disturb even a Vulcan.  It was of Hoshi. Her mouth frozen in a scream of anguish and her eyes glazed over, as Enterprise's saucer section imploded.  The bridge had cracked like an eggshell, and bodies, that weren't consumed by fire, had been dumped into the void of space.

"Sub-Commander?" Trip was shocked by the trance like expression on her face.  "Sub-Commander T'Pol, are you all right?"  His voice broke the hold his emotional tidal wave had caused.

"I believe it is necessary for you to tell me exactly what is going on."  She cleared her throat and focused on preventing Jonathan's face from replacing Hoshi's, in her mind.

"I…"  Trip fought to keep tears from filling his eyes as he was faced with the enormity of his feelings.  "I just gotta keep her safe."

"Why do you believe it is your job to do so?"  She kept digging.  It was unsettling that she had been caught off guard by the Human's rush of feelings, but Ensign Sato had shown her kindness when she had needed it, if it was what she really wanted, T'Pol would help her.

"Because…because…" He took a deep breath and let the words fly free.  "Because I love her.  I know it's somethin' you can't understand, but if anythin' happened to her, I don't think I could go on."

'_Love,'_ thought T'Pol.  '_That had been the Commander's emotion she had been unable to recognize.'  _ "I see," she whispered, her voice unsteady.  It was a battle to gain control of a monster that threatened to roar to life from deep within her, but she was Vulcan and persevered!

"Do ya, Sub-Commander, do ya really see?"  He doubted very much that she did, but she was his one chance to keep the person dearest to him out of harms way.

She nodded and carefully folded her hands in her lap.  She was not about to get into a discussion of emotions with him; it was illogical to think it was something she could speak about with authority.  "I will help you, but it must be what Ensign Sato wants."

"But?"  Trip had hoped if the job offer came from T'Pol, it would be too tempting for Hoshi to turn down, even then he knew it was a long shot.

"She must tell me she wants it, not you."  She watched him squirm in his seat on the other side of the table.  "You are correct that love is an emotion that is unknown to me personally, but I have observed humans for years.  I do not understand how asking Ensign Sato to go against her nature is proof of your feelings toward her."

"Wouldn't you protect Jon, if you could?"  He shot back, suddenly angry.  Her question had hit a nerve and he didn't like it.

"I believe that is part of the job description of a First Officer."  She blinked at his attack, but refused to be drawn in.

"Yeah right, and we all know what a good First Officer you are."  Trip pushed back his chair in disgust.  He'd seen her worry when the Suliban had taken Archer. Was she so immersed in logic that she hadn't realized what happened?

"Commander, wait."  She called him back to stand beside the table.  "Vulcans have not always lived a life free of emotions.  There was a time, long ego when my race was far more barbaric than you can imagine.  If I had any doubt as to the logic of the choice we made to suppress our feelings, watching you, would have clarified the matter."

"Whadda ya mean!"  He frowned, sure he'd been insulted, but fascinated by the information he was getting.

"You say you _love_ Ensign Sato, yet you would have me put her in a position where she would have to choose between doing something that stimulates her intellectual curiosity and doing something she believes to be right. You say you would do anything to protect her, yet I have seen her cry because of you."

"Now just hold your horses."  He held his hands up in self-defense; her words cut the floor out from under him. "_She cried_?" He gasped and held his breath. "I only want her to be happy. I didn't realize. What should I do?"

"I am hardly the person to answer that question, but I believe that Ensign Sato would be."  She tilted her head as she watched emotions play across his face. 

"It's hard.  When I realized what happened to my sister, all I wanted to do was punch somebody, I still do."  He dug deep within for the real reason he'd pushed Hoshi away.  "Life is so damn fragile, and there is nothing I can do about it."  His hands tightened into fists at his sides as he was swept with a feeling of total impotence. "I'm not sure I can take another loss like that."

"It has been my observation that Humans are stronger than they realize.  I believe it is this resilience that will make them a power to be reckoned with in the future."  She did not add that it was also her belief that it was the reason the High Command wanted to keep Earth under such tight control.  "But the Humans who are the strongest are the ones who have a balance between their emotions and their logic.  You need to regain that balance, but I do not think it is something you can do alone.  Talk to Ensign Sato."

Suddenly T'Pol's communicator beeped to life. "Archer to T'Pol."

"T'Pol here Captain."  She reached for the mobile device all of the command team had been carrying since the attack. 

"Meet me at Shuttlepod One in twenty minutes. Our presence is needed at Star Fleet Headquarters.  Archer out."

"Thank ya, Sub-Commander, I'll let you get to your meeting."  Trip turned and headed for the door. He wasn't sure what he was going to do.  Part of him realized that T'Pol was right while another part was consumed by anger and fear of loss.

……………………….

Ambassador Soval had initiated the meeting with Admiral Forrest, Captain Archer and Sub-Commander T'Pol, to view a communiqué from the Vulcan ship Vaankara, which had been lost in the Expanse nine months prior.  What T'Pol had seen was unsettling.  Vulcans out of control, in a manner reminiscent of ancient times before Surak, Vulcans fighting, screaming, and destroying one another.  Jonathan had been unmoved by it, _but she was more convinced than ever, that her presence was required on Enterprise.  _

When the meeting was concluded Soval and T'Pol left together. He had further orders for her. She was being reassigned to the Ministry of Information on Vulcan for at least the next year.  It was the High Command's opinion that she had spent too much time among the Humans and needed to be with her own people again. Though she tried to convince him otherwise, her logic fell on deaf ears.

After separating from the Ambassador, T'Pol stood and looked back at Star Fleet Headquarters. She could hear the pounding of waves far below and carefully picked her way down the path that led to the Bay directly under the southern tower of the Golden Gate Bridge.  The structure had always fascinated her, but tonight she wanted to walk, so she headed east along the wide bike path. She supposed she made an unusual picture, a solitary Vulcan walking toward the Marina Green so late at night, but she did not care what these unknown Humans thought. She had an hour before she was to meet Jonathan back at Shuttlepod One for the return trip to Enterprise. She chose to spend her last moments on Earth in a way that was soothing to her. 

The fog that swirled in caressed her cheek and though it was thick enough to muffle her footsteps, the lights of Sausalito were still visible across the Bay.  She supposed Soval was over there, sleeping soundly in the Vulcan Compound, after delivering her new orders.  Though he had said she could return to Earth in a year or so, T'Pol was wise in the politics of her people.  She knew that once she became immersed in the Ministry of Information, her career would take a different turn.  It was likely that she would never return to this green and blue planet, especially with the threat of the Xindi hanging over its head.

It had been so with her second foremother, T'Mir. When she had returned to Vulcan after crashing on Earth 200 years ago, she had never been allowed in the Sol sector of space again.  Instead of continuing with the Ministry of Survey and Research, she had been transferred to the Ministry of Science.  One hundred years later she had been captain of the ship T'Plana, which had been lost in a class 5 neutronic wave front.  If not for the reassignment, it was likely that she would have been the captain of the survey vessel T'Sur, which made official first contact with the Humans, she had come to admire, instead of dying in space.

……………………………..

"What do you make of that meeting?"  Archer's hands moved automatically through the take-off procedure. The trip back to the ship was short, but he wanted T'Pol's opinion on the situation and didn't want to wait until they returned to Enterprise.

"I am unsure of the Ambassador's motive for showing us the details on the loss of the Vaankara. It is very unlike him to divulge that kind of information."

"No it isn't. He wanted to prove a point. He believes that if _even Vulcans_ couldn't survive in the Expanse, how could _mere Humans_ possibly expect to. In good old fashion slang he was rubbing our noses in it!"  He snorted and shook his head.  "Any idea of what really happened to that ship?"

"It would be impossible to surmise without further data--"

"T'Pol," Archer cut her off, he'd wanted an opinion, not a lecture.

"I was going to say before you interrupted me, that even though I do not have sufficient data to give you an answer, I would remind you that Vulcans and Humans are different. Just because something would have that affect on us, does not necessarily mean it would on you."  She leaned forward in her seat, so she could see his face reflected in the view screen ahead.  "If you recall, during your first meeting, Ambassador Soval recounted a story about a Klingon ship.  They were damaged physically, not psychologically."

"Thanks for reminding me."  He turned slowly to face her. "I guess that means we can be anatomically inverted and splayed open, or driven mad.  Frankly, I was hoping for something a bit more positive."  They had Enterprise in sight, and he shifted to autopilot to allow the computer to take them in.

"Captain you are being difficult."

"Well then lets change the subject."  He looked over his shoulder but could read nothing from her face; she was in total control of every muscle of her body.  "What did Soval have to say to you, or can't you talk about it?"

"My new assignment came through."  Her voice was husky, a sure sign to Archer that all was not well. "I am to report to the Ministry Of Information on Vulcan."

"Vulcan?"  He shook his head unsure if he had heard correctly.  "You're being sent back to Vulcan?"  As he watched her nod, he found it hard to swallow.  Going off and leaving her hadn't seemed so hard when he was able to picture her continuing on in San Francisco. But if she were on Vulcan, a place he'd never visited, he was unable to form a clear picture of her surroundings.  Somehow it made her seem further away.  The thought kept nagging at him as he locked down the pod. 

"Captain," T'Pol remained seated in the privacy of the shuttle. "When we spoke, I asked the Ambassador if it would be permissible for Enterprise to take me to Vulcan.  He is agreeable to the request and I would _appreciate_ it, as long as it would not slow you down too much."

"If it's in my power to do so, I will."  He wanted to reach for her hand and hold it, but knew it would be inappropriate.  "I doubt Admiral Forrest will have a problem with it, but I need to ask him."

"Thank you."  She slid out of her seat and exited the pod for what could be the last time.

………………………..

After his conversation with T'Pol, Trip Tucker had gone back to his quarters to shower, shave and change into casual clothes.  For some reason it was important to him to be out of uniform when he talked to Hoshi.  Maybe it was because he'd been holding rank between them like a protective shield.  _'The why didn't matter, it's that I'm finally doin' it that's important,'_ he thought as he rang her door buzzer.

"Trip…ah I mean Commander."  Hoshi blinked in surprise when she opened her door and found he was the one on the other side.  She shook her head to clear her vision.  It was too much like the night T'Pol had caught her by surprise when she'd come calling for tea.

"No, _'Trip,'_ you were right the first time.  Can I come in?"

"Why are you here?'  She stood her ground, not ready to let him in her life or her quarters.

"Cause I've been wrong and I'm sorry."  He reached for her cheek and ran his hand over her soft skin.

"I don't want you in here, if you're going to change your mind again."  Hoshi's eyes filled with tears, but this time she didn't care if he saw them.

"Aww Darlin', I'm so sorry I made ya cry. I can't promise I won't ever do it again, but I can promise I'll never do it on purpose, cause I love ya. Please give me one more chance." He cupped her face as he leaned down and kissed her, while walking her backwards into her quarters. 

……………………….

 A day and half later, everything was completed.  There were shiny new missiles in the Armory. Extra biobeds had been added to Sickbay.  E deck now sported two brand new, though rather small containment cells to be used as a brig.  Major Hayes, his special unit of MACOs, and all their equipment were aboard.  T'Pol had personally seen to upgrades of the Vulcan database. It, along with any information that she was able to get on the Delphic Expanse, was housed in the new tactical Command Center, which had been designed with one goal in mind. Find the Xindi and do whatever was necessary to protect Earth. The crew that left Earth this time was stronger, wiser and more determined than the one that had left two years earlier. Hoshi Sato marveled at the woman she had become, and thanked whatever powers-that-be, that she'd listened to Jonathan Archer with his wild ideas, when he'd thrust himself into her life, demanding her skills for his ship.  The woman she had become was so much more than she had ever imagined she could be. 

…………………………

Three days past Saturn a Klingon attack took them by surprise.  The Bird Of Prey decloaked and began firing.  Archer ground his teeth all the way to the bridge from the Mess Hall where he and Commander Tucker had been having a drink. Duras had caught him napping but it wasn't going to happen again. The men made it to the bridge only seconds ahead of Sub-Commander T'Pol who had been meditating in her quarters.  The battle ended as quickly as it had begun, but no one believed they'd seen the last of them.

 "Increase speed to warp 4.5, if we can stay ahead of him until we reach Vulcan space, that should keep them off our backs."  The Captain knew that the large area controlled by the Vulcans was only a few days away, and it would be an act of war for the Bird Of Prey to cross into it uninvited.

"It's nice to see the improvements to the hull polarization, and the new torpedoes in action."  Malcolm Reed smiled with glee, at the way the armaments had performed.  Up until that point he had only worked with computer simulations of the new equipment.

"I'd rather you try them out on something that doesn't shoot back, Mr. Reed, but it's reassuring to know they're there."  Archer smiled at his Tactical Officer as they both remembered the problems there had been getting the original weapons aligned, almost two years earlier.  "Anything on sensors, Hoshi?"

"Not anymore, Sir, but according to these readings, something out there was venting plasma."

Archer slouched in his bridge chair, not quite ready to hand command back to the beta shift watch.  His mission was too important to let an old grudge get in the way.  Though it went against everything he believed, he knew the time for playing nice was over.  "Malcolm if they come back, we hit them with everything we've got, is that clear?"

"Yes Sir!"  He felt his blood surge as he entered the order into the tactical log. 

 "Trip?"  Jon called to his friend who he'd caught staring at Hoshi, as she did a final system tally at her board. "How about finishing that drink we started?"

"Captain," the Communications Officer looked up, obviously distressed. "Corpsman Miller reports an injury."

"Who, and how badly?"  He had a feeling that he was going to be asking that question a lot over the next year and he didn't like the sick way it made his stomach tighten.

"Dr. Phlox, Sir, he was in the crawl space behind the lift chasing his Pyrithian Bat, when the attack started.  He lost his hold on the ladder and fell. Security discovered him at the base of the shaft."

"How badly was he hurt?"

"He reports that it's mainly scrapes and bruises."  Hoshi listened into her earpiece again, and had to fight to keep from laughing at Phlox's response. "He wants me to tell you that he's fine, but his ego is on the critical list."

"You tell him to stay away from high places, we need him too badly."  Jonathan shook his head at the irony of someone being injured when no damage had been done to the ship.

As Hoshi relayed the message, she looked up, and her eyes met Trip's.  Seeing him watch her made her feel giddy inside. "Go with the Captain," she whispered and nodded her head toward Archer. "I've got a few things to finish up."

Jonathan shook his head at the look of contented joy that filled his friend's face. _'She's got him wrapped around her little finger, and it's about time too.'_  He stole a quick glance at his little Vulcan as she went through one more sensor sweep. Her face was in shadows so he missed the frown that marred her brow. _'Don't even think it, Jon, old man,' _he thought as he walked past, completely unaware that Trip had seen the longing expression that filled his eyes as he watched T'Pol.

…………………………………

"Ohheee!  This place smells like a bar!"  Trip shook his head as the men entered the Mess Hall and found a Crewman cleaning up the floor beside the table where they'd been sitting.

"Sorry about that," Archer grimaced. "We remembered to cap the bottle when the firing started, but forgot about the tumblers."  It was evident they had hit the deck and rolled around in a puddle of whiskey.

"No problem, Sir, you were a little busy at the time." he grinned.  "Besides this is nothing compared to the mess in the Galley.  Chef'd have a hissy fit if he saw it.  Are things going to be quiet long enough to make it worth cleaning up, or will there be more shooting tonight?"

"According to the sensors, they've gone."  Trip grinned at the man as he headed back to the galley.  "Cap'n, you never did answer my question a while back. You're almost as good as T'Pol when it comes to changin' the subject."

"What're you talking about?"  Archer reached for the bottle, but decided he'd had enough for one night.  Fighting Klingons had a way of sobering up a man and making him want to stay that way for a long time.

"I'm talkin' bout the Sub-Commander."  He nailed his friend with a steely look that he hoped would get him some answers.  "I asked ya if ya're gonna miss her and all you did was change the subject." He had a vague memory of asking Jon the same question months ago, but he'd been too drunk to remember the answer. "So, ya gonna miss her?"

Jonathan sat at the table and thumped the bottle down in front of him.  His mind searched for a witty reply, but he couldn't come up with one.  Slowly nodding his head he looked at his friend and gave up.  "Yeah, I am. Here take this," he handed over the bottle.  "You keep it, I've had more than enough.  I'll see you in the morning."

As Archer walked quietly out of the Mess, Trip felt something move under his heart.  "Poor bastard," he muttered.  Suddenly he needed to hold Hoshi in his arms, to remind himself that he wasn't alone anymore.  Only a day or so ago, he'd been like Jon, but thanks to T'Pol he wasn't.  She'd shown him how foolish he was acting.  He only wished he could do the same for the two of them, but doubted there was anything that would help.  What did a Human do when he was in love with a Vulcan?  _'Tell her how logical it was to spend the rest of her life with him? Yeah right and teach your grandma to suck eggs!  I don't think so.'  _He shook his head at the futility of the whole thing.

……………………..

While Trip and Jonathan were talking in the Mess Hall, T'Pol returned to the refuge of meditation, which the Klingon attack had interrupted, but she was unable to regain her focus. Something significant had happened while she had been on the bridge, but the incident eluded her. 

'_Dr Phlox,_' her mind circled around him and she felt a pang at the deep loss she would have felt if he had been badly hurt.  Even as she tried to make sense of her unusual feelings his voice echoed through her thoughts, _'does your loyalty lie with the High Command or the Captain?'_

"With the Captain." Her eyes opened and she felt a rush of inner strength that had been missing since the Xindi had attacked Earth.  She had her answer, now all she had to do was convince him of it.  She would see him first thing tomorrow, before they progressed any closer to Vulcan.

That night she tossed in her sleep, unable to get comfortable until she was curled tightly in a ball, with her arms wrapped protectively around her abdomen. In the morning she knew she had dreamt, but could not remember what they had been about, only that she felt a pang of longing that had no basis in logic. 

………………………

Jonathan Archer knew when he'd lost an argument and this was one of those times.  T'Pol was three feet away and it took all his effort not to reach for her again, as her words echoed off the walls and into his soul.  _'You need me, Captain.'_  She had come to his office in the early morning to convince him that instead of going back to Vulcan, she should resign her commission and continue on Enterprise.  Intellectually he knew that it was a mistake, but when she looked at him like that, he could deny her nothing. 

'_Or is it that I can't deny myself her presence?' _He wondered fleetingly. Yes he needed her, but not just as his science officer.  He needed her in ways he was sure would shock and horrify a Vulcan, but he couldn't tell her that, so he stood, lost in the depth of her eyes until he knew his voice would respond without breaking.  Then he did the only thing he could, headed to the bridge and gave the order to by-pass Vulcan! 

T'Pol was unsure what had happened. One moment Jonathan stood in her personal space, his emotions pounding her mental shields, the next he turned and walked away.  She could not take her eyes off of him as she slowly followed him to the bridge.  Something that she had buried months ago was coming to life. Whispers of dreams mixed with memory and clouded her thoughts. 

The deck bucked beneath her feet, but when she looked around she realized she was the only one who felt it.  Dreams became memory and memory, truth.  _'It was real?_'  She shook her head in confusion as her hand slipped over her abdomen in protection of a child that might never be_. _ She fought to remember the exact words the Jonathan of the future had used that night, months ago and years in the future, as he pressed his body into hers. **_'We only consorted for the first two years.  The last two you have been my wife and I have been your bondmate_….._To hell with the High Command.  We sanctioned this child and that's all that matters.  Phlox did too, we couldn't have done it without him_….._You didn't tell me anything until after we were bonded, and didn't mention the baby until after she was conceived.  That was what made you finally believe you'd traveled in time.'**_

……………………..

That night at 2100 hours T'Pol sat in the Mess Hall drinking tea.  She had tried to meditate, but every time she stared into the flame it reflected back her uncertainty.  She knew without a doubt that her primary reason for remaining on Enterprise had been her loyalty to Jonathan Archer, but the memories and accompanying feelings that were being dredged up due to that decision were unfamiliar.  She saw before her a future where she would be mentally and legally bonded to a Human. '_But how did one get from here to there_?' She wondered. 

"May I join you Sub-Commander?"  Dr. Phlox limped to her table with a dinner tray in his hands.

"Certainly," she nodded, unable to take her eyes off his jerky movements, it was obvious he had been hurt worse than she had realized.

"I hear that you have decided to remain aboard."  His grin made his eyes sparkle and he nodded happily at her.  "It would appear you have made up your mind where your loyalties lie."

"It would seem so." She put down her tea and looked him over carefully. "Exactly how far did you fall?" 

"Twenty feet or so, thank goodness the crawl space is so small. I was able to break my fall by grabbing the handrail before I hit the bottom."  He rubbed his shoulder in memory of the yank and tug on his joint.

"You could have been killed!"  The enormity of it hit home and her hand moved over her churning stomach.  Without Phlox there would be no child of the future, no final proof that her actions were dictated by the timeline.  Sitting there she realized she wanted that child and the life it represented, more than she had wanted anything in her life. It was totally illogical to long for something that had yet to happen, and might not even occur, but she did.

"Nonsense, it was just a little tumble."  He watched her carefully as her eyes filled with emotion.  "I've had worse happen."

"Doctor, if someone knew of something that were to happen in the future, and that another party was essential to it happening, how does one keep that party safe?"

"I think you had better tell me what this is all about."  Phlox put down his knife and fork, his interest totally focused on the woman across from him.

"I can not." Her mind worked quickly trying to find a way to speak of an issue she was sure the Jonathan of the future had meant to keep secret.  "Doctor, I have always been fascinated by Denobulan medicine and their advancements in genetic engineering."

"It is an interesting subject."  He nodded trying to follow her odd change of topic and understand where it led.

"Do you recall when we found that ship that was believed to be from the future?  The one whose pilot, hypothetically, had Human, Vulcan and a number of other DNA strands from aliens across the universe." She chose her words carefully and was rewarded with a spark of anticipation in the Doctor's eyes.  "Is your medical community far enough advanced to create such a being? Hypothetically speaking."

"He was an interesting specimen indeed.  A veritable jigsaw puzzle of genetic engineering."  Phlox smiled as he dug out his pocket computer and keyed in the code he needed. _'T'Pol knew something about the future. It explained her sudden change of attitude,_' he was sure of it. "It would be necessary to take it one step at a time.  Mix chromosomes from two species, and then work from there. In fact I began just such a research project not long after we found him. Here take a look at this, it might interest you."  He handed over his computer and watched as she scrolled through his data on a Human Vulcan offspring.

"You have done all this?" Her voice broke as she realized he had already found the answer to their daughter long before they had asked him to work on it.

"I had hoped it might come in handy someday."  Phlox tried not to look too pleased with himself.  

"So much work on a _hypothetical _study?"  She carefully placed his computer back on the table and reached for her tea.  It was hard for her to breathe and it felt as if there was a huge dark sphere about to explode behind her eyes.

"It would be a shame for it to remain so." Phlox covered her hand with his.

"I…"

"Don't you think the two of you have wasted enough time?"  His voice flowed around her and she clung to it to keep from drowning.  "Go to him, he needs you and you need him."

"No," she shook her head still trying to deny the truth. "We are too different," her voice cracked.  "His emotions spill everywhere and I have no understanding or defense against them, in time--"

"T'Pol," the Doctor cut her off.  He realized she was confused and couldn't speak freely about what was at the root of her confusion.  _'Maybe some fatherly guidance was in order.'_ "What made you decide to stay on board Enterprise?" 

"It was the only logical thing to do." The words sounded hollow to her ears, but she hoped they would convince him.

"As our esteemed Commander Tucker would say, '_bull hunky_!'   There isn't a shred of logic in the decision you made today." 

"Enterprise needs my expertise--" 

"Enterprise needs many things on this mission and a good science officer is only one of them."  Sharp blue eyes drilled worried green ones.  "Only Vulcan arrogance would make you say that you're the only one who could adequately fill that position and I believe you left that behind you long ago.  The Captain needs you.  Let me rephrase that, Jonathan Archer needs you on this mission, and not just as a science officer.  He needs you as his friend, confidant and the woman he's grown to love."

"But I know nothing of love," she protested.

"My dear, you're arguing semantics.  Logic or love, it doesn't matter what you call it, just so long as it brings you together."  He quickly tapped two words on his hand computer.  As '_future perfect'_ swam across the screen he handed it to her. "I've stored the results of my research project in the ship's computer under these pass words.  Only three people's voiceprints will access it, yours, the Captain's or mine.  If the time should come that you want to make use of this information, and I am not around, it is all here for you."

"How did you know?"

"I observe people."  He wasn't sure that answered her question, or even if she realized she'd asked it, but enough time had been wasted.  "There's someone else you need to talk to tonight, and I think you'll find he's still awake."

She moved quickly almost as if she were afraid she would change her mind, but stopped and turned back to him at the door. "Doctor, what would the ears of a half Vulcan, half Human child look like?"

"I've run the computer simulation a number of times and in first generation offspring, the child has Vulcan ears.  I believe pointed dorsal lobes are a dominant trait, and rounded ones recessive."

A shiver ran up her spine, and T'Pol sank back against the doorframe. Her eyes fluttered closed and she caught her breath when she remembered the Jonathan of the future pressing her into the bed as he ran his hand over one of her ears and whispering,_ 'Phlox says she'll have her mother's ears.' _ It was not the proof she was seeking, but it would do.

………………………..

Jonathan Archer couldn't sleep. '_It'd been a hell of a twenty-four hours_.' The Klingons had attacked the night before, and then T'Pol had resigned her commission with the High Command that morning to stay aboard Enterprise.  Things were happening too fast for his peace of mind.

He lay on his back on his bed, in sweatpants and a t-shirt and tossed his water polo ball in the air.  As it hit its arc, the ball spun, and then came back to land in first one hand and then the other, as he tossed it again and again. Its familiar weight and texture against his palm accented by a reassuring plop as it landed, were a constant in his life that helped keep him centered as everything else was changing.  He kept asking himself if he'd made the right decision about T'Pol, and more importantly if he'd done it for the correct reasons.  When his doorbell rang, and he opened it to find her standing on the other side, he couldn't help wondering fleetingly if his thoughts had brought her to him.

"May I come in?"  She looked up and wondered how she could have had doubts about him.  He was Human but she did not care.

"Sure," Jonathan nodded as he stepped aside and watched her flow past.  She was wearing one of her Vulcan robes that always made her look soft and feminine.  "What can I do for you Sub-Commander?"

She licked her lips and grabbed her courage.  "This morning, in your office, I spoke to you as Captain, tonight I would like to speak to you as Jonathan."  His name came out in a whisper.

"This sounds serious."  He couldn't take his eyes off of her.

"It is."  T'Pol nibbled lightly on her lip as she tried to find the words to tell him all that had happened.

"Have you changed your mind about staying on Enterprise?"  It would break his heart to take her back to Vulcan, but if that was what she wanted, that was what he would do.

"No, but you might about letting me stay, when you hear what I have to say."  She would leave if he wanted her to, though it would mean living her life with an unreciprocated bond.  It would necessitate retiring to the seclusion of a monastery, if she was to keep her sanity, but for him, she would do it. 

"Sit down," he led her to his couch and together they sat.  "Now, tell me what this is all about." The weighty material of her robe brushed his left thigh and he could smell the scent of lemon and spices under his nose.  Trying to look natural he turned toward her and laid his left arm along the back of the couch, inches from her shoulders.

"It is difficult to know where to begin."  She was a woman of few words so she picked the ones that she thought would get his attention the fastest.  "I believe I may have traveled in time."

"Pardon me?"  He shook his head sure he was hearing things.

"I said I believe I--"

"I heard you, or at least I think I did."  He watched her eyes grow large and dark green as if she were confused.  "You think you traveled in time.  You're joking right?"

"Vulcans do not joke."  She turned toward him and found him inches away.  For a moment it was unsettling, then she found it soothing.

"But they don't believe in time travel, either."

"I'm not sure I do believe in _it_, but there is no other explanation," she whispered.  This had been a bad idea; she should not have listened to Phlox.  "I am sorry I bothered you."  When she tried to rise she realized he was sitting on part of her robe and she was trapped.

"No wait, don't go, I'm sorry I gave you a hard time."  He reached for her arm and steadied her as she plopped back on the couch, still partially caught by his leg.

"This is not easy for me Jonathan."  She pulled the edge of her robe free, but did not try to get up again.  "I was taught that it was wrong, something never to be done or talked about, and here I am with these memories and dreams."  Her hands fluttered nervously and she spoke faster and faster, as the idea of time travel was forgotten and mating with a Human became the center of her thoughts.

"Easy," he frowned, _'something was wrong.'_ When he caught her hands in his, he knew time travel was not the cause of her agitation. "Take it easy and start from the beginning.  First of all, tell me why you believe you traveled in time."

"Because I ended up here."  Her shoulder shrugged toward the middle of the room.

"Here, on Enterprise?" Jonathan's heart pounded in his ears. _'What did she know about the future?'_

"No, here in your quarters, in your bed, with you."

The sound of air rushing out of his lungs broke the silence in the room as his eyes closed and he leaned his forehead against hers while his hands cupped her cheeks.  He didn't dare touch her anywhere else, as desire ripped through his body and he fought to catch his breath. "How far in the future was that?" His voice shook when he realized how much hinged on her answer.

"About four years."

"And Enterprise was still here, Earth was still here?"  He had to know that Earth survived before he dared look at the personal consequences of what she had told him.  "We succeeded in keeping the Xindi from attacking a second time?"  He wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer to that question, but he had to ask it.

"I do not know, but I believe so."  They sat very close, gripping hands.  Suddenly the emotional problems of two beings on a small ship speeding between the stars seemed very small.  "You would not tell me much.  You kept repeating over and over again that it was imperative that I not change the time line by remembering."

"What didn't I want you to remember?"

"You told me so much, yet you said very little of substance."  She closed her eyes trying to recall everything that had been said to her.  "The you of the future was afraid that if I remembered too soon, I would pull away before we could become…before we could become…_attached_."  She danced around the word she really meant, unsure if he was ready to hear it.

"Was I right?"  He knew she was hiding something from him, but wasn't sure if it was because it was knowledge he shouldn't have or something she had trouble speaking of.

"Possibly," she shrugged. "Up until Enterprise discovered the timeship, I was ready to believe in time travel, but once we did, I refused to do so.  If I did, then I would also be admitting that Vulcans and Humans would one day be _swapping_ chromosomes."

"Would that have been so bad?"

"At the time it unsettled me, because it was something…it was something that I was not ready to face. So there is a chance I might have left, if I had discovered then what I know now. But it would have done me no good."  Her eyes filled with tears as she realized that her bond had already begun to form with this Human, even before they had found the timeship.  "You have to understand what a Vulcan upbringing is like.  I was strictly taught and I believed that being with a male of another species was an abomination."

"What happened to change your mind?"  It was only now that he realized the enormity of what she had given up to stay on Enterprise with him. It was likely her own people would shun her.

"You," T'Pol held tightly to his left shoulder with one hand and ran the other through his hair while she searched for a more logical reply but was unable to come up with one.  "You came along and everything changed for me."  She remembered her deep longing for him during her Pon Farr two months ago and wondered how she had ever thought that anyone but he could have given her relief.

"Shhhh, it's all right."  He pulled her onto his lap.  Her display of emotion shook him to the core.  "For over a year now, all I've wanted was to have you in my arms and when you're finally here, I interrogate you.  Damn the Xindi for doing this to us!"

"For over a year, you've felt it too?"  She was more confused than ever, as a new idea formed.  "There is another possibility why your future self wanted me not to remember.  If we had acknowledged our attraction, would you still be captain of Enterprise?  Would your involvement with a Vulcan have disqualified you from going on this mission?"

"I'd hate to think Star Fleet would be so shortsighted, but it's possible."  He sighed as he held her.  "It certainly would have caused a debate that might have delayed our departure."

"It is something to think about, but for now there is much I must tell you, and much you must decide."  Her hand trailed down his cheek while he held her. He might send her away, once she was done telling him everything, in which case, this small amount of contact might have to last her a lifetime.

It took T'Pol over an hour to tell him about going to the timeship to run a metallurgical test and ending up in his bed four years in the future.  She only left out about the baby, since she knew that she did not tell him about that until after conception, and she glossed over the bits and pieces about the formation of a new universal order, which she believed was the Federation that Daniels had spoken to Jonathan about a year earlier.

"I gather I didn't tell you about the Xindi attack on Earth, or the Suliban's man from the future, who stated that the attack was a change in the timeline?"  Archer was unsure what to think.  So far the most important thing she'd told him was that they would be together.

"No, you did not. Only that Vulcan and Earth had formed a temporary alliance, or will form one, sometime in the next two years and our relationship is politically important to that alliance." She rubbed her eyes and fought a headache. "For months, I have had dreams about what happened, I was not sure what was going on, but none of it conformed to any rules of logic."

"This can't have been easy for you, but what I don't understand is why you thought earlier that I might regret my decision to let you stay on Enterprise."  Letting her go was the last thing he could imagine doing now that she had told him about the future.  

"When I told you we were together, there is more to it than that."  She was still on his lap, but gripped her arms and could not meet his gaze.  "When I said we were bonded, I was not referring to the ceremony, but the process.  For me that has already taken place."

"I don't understand."  He circled her shoulders with his left arm and leaned back until her upper body was held between his and the back of the couch. All he would have to do was shift his hips slightly and the entire length of their bodies would be touching.  "Look at me T'Pol," he whispered as he moved against her and felt her body shudder against his.

"I have not been honest with you in the last months."  Her complexion grew dusky in what Jonathan thought of as a green-blooded blush.  "There have been times when our minds touched, but I did not want to believe it, so I denied it."

"Show me." His hoarse whisper caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up.

T'Pol threw her head back against his arm, and held up her left hand.  "Place your hand against mine and close your eyes."  As he did so, she slowly dropped her mental shields.

Jonathan was bathed in a warm intimate touch. It radiated from where their bodies met to deep within him "Ohhh yesss I have felt this before." He gasped and pulled her more tightly against him, his lips touched hers in a gentle kiss.

"Wait, I did not tell you everything."

"Yes you have."  He smiled down at her.  "I remember this from months ago.  The first time was in Sickbay after I returned from Rura Penthe.  You were in my arms and I felt your mind in the night, but when I woke up, you closed me out." He shivered at the memory of how alone he'd felt, but then remembered other nights when her warm sweet presence had invaded his sleep. "But it didn't stop there. I think there have been a number of nights over the last months that your mind has come to me while we slept." He punctuated his words with kisses over her cheek and brow.

"You must stop," it was hard for her, because she knew it was true.  All the times she had thought she was dreaming, she had been reaching out to him as she slept, but it was important that he knew what he was getting into before this went any further.  "There is more that I must tell you."

"This _is _everything."  He held her face gently in his right hand.  "You are all I've wanted since the moment I saw you.  You and I together can do anything."

"But you do not understand," she pressed her palms against his chest to hold him off, even as she felt his desire and hers in answer to it.  "For me it is already too late, the bond has formed, but you are Human, if we do not consummate this, I believe you can still turn back if you wish."

"No, you don't understand, I'm not just talking about a casual fling."  He ran his thumb across her cheek as he held her face in his palm.  He could tell by her expression that she had no idea what he was talking about.  "I love you and have for a long time.  I want this to happen, I want you to belong to me and me to you, whether you call it, bonding, marriage, love or whatever."

"It may not be undoable, if you change your mind later," she whispered as sweat broke out on her upper lip and her body churned with wild feelings. "And forever is a very long time."

"Thank God for that!"  He picked her up and carried her across the room, as her hands reached under his shirt.

When they were beside the bed he let her feet slide to the deck and together they pulled his shirt over his head. While her hands traveled over the planes of his chest,  he reached for the belt of her robe, and undid the intricate knot that held it in place. For just a moment he felt her shiver in anticipation.  She looked up as his hands gripped the lapels of her quilted garment and he slowly separated the material.

"I love you T'Pol," he whispered, humbled that she had come to him naked beneath her robe.  With the greatest of care he slide it down her arms and let it fall, until it lay forgotten around their feet.  Desire hit him like a punch in the gut, but he made himself move slowly and carefully, knowing she would be unprepared for the emotions he was feeling, "I love you."

"Jonathan Archer I have caught your scent," she whispered throatily as her nose nuzzled the fur on his chest and her hands ran over his back.  Then she spoke the ancient words of a bonded couple mating for the first time, "your mind to my mind, forever together, forever apart."

The words hit them with the power of a warp engine.  Jonathan picked her up and together they fell to the bed.  As his mouth ravished hers she knew that what she was experiencing was unlike anything ever experienced by a Vulcan female, but she did not care.  With something akin to joy she stepped off into the unknown and felt the rhythm of his Human desire pounding in his veins.  It poured into her until she was on fire with need.  Need so right and pure that it gave her a roadmap into all the unknown places she was about to travel, guided by Jonathan's sure steady hands.

……………………….

Archer stood naked at his window, but instead of watching stars, he was leaning back against the view port, with his arms folded, unable to take his eyes off T'Pol asleep in his bed. How could he have ever thought her cold-blooded, detached, or emotionless?  He had felt her passion and emotions on so many different levels he hadn't been sure which were hers and which were his.  Making love to her had been the most profoundly intimate experience of his life.  She had said she was bound to him, now, he was certain that he was bound just as tightly to her. _'I love her so much!'_

"Jonathan," she murmured as her hand reached across the bed for him.

"Right here, Love," he slide in beside her and let his touch reassure her.

"I thought for a moment it had all been another dream."  She let him pull her close and it stilled her fears.  "Like when the bounty hunter had captured you, and I was sick with fever for you."

"Your fever was for me?"  He had felt her burning mental need grow as they made love.  It had fed the passion for both of them and carried them along on a wild ride that made body surfing on the North Shore of Oahu seem like a swim in a millpond. He couldn't imagine going through that alone, with no release. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

"No, Jonathan," she held his face in her hands and came as close to smiling as he had ever seen.  "I was not ready yet, if I had been, I would have realized what was happening weeks earlier, when your touch first initiated it."

"I caused that to happen to you?"  He rolled her beneath him so he could see her face clearly in the starlight.  "How, when, and why in God's name didn't you tell me?"

"The night you came to my cabin after Enterprise had destroyed the cybernetic beings that had been buried in Earth's Artic ice; you sat very close and I touched your hand."  As intimate as they had been and were even now, it was hard to talk of this to him.  "I picked up the scent of your desire and it triggered mine." She shivered as she remembered sitting up most of the night as desire pounded through her, too exhausted to even meditate.

"Why didn't you say anything at the time?"  He rubbed his nose against hers; they could have saved themselves so much time.

"I could not accept it yet, you are Human and to have a Human trigger my mating cycle, was not heard of."  She took the time to explain to him that Vulcan males went through Pon Farr every seven years, but a female only went through it when she caught the scent of her bondmate's.  "It would have meant that I had accepted that I had created a bond with you, and I was still in denial.  It took me a week of intensive meditation to submerge the feelings, but when I was infected with the microbe, everything fell apart.  The area of my brain that triggers emotions and needs was affected. Everything was brought to the surface again, if Phlox had not found a cure I would have died."

"Thank God for Phlox."  He remembered seeing the locking mechanism torn off the wall in decon, it made him groan to think what he might have saved her, if he'd been there.

"No, Jonathan," she picked up on his sorrow, and would not let him take the blame.  "It was the combination of the microbe so soon after what occurred between us that caused it.   From what the Doctor told me, I believe that even if we had consummated our bond at that time, it would have done no good.  There was a disease process at work as well. Since bondmates share desires, if we had been bonded, I believe we might have both been caught in an endless cycle that would have only ended when the pathogen was killed."

"It's all so complicated." He shook his head at all he still had to learn about Vulcans. "But I would have prevented it if I could have," he whispered as he felt desire begin to stir in them again.

"I know," she wrapped her arms around him and enjoyed the texture of his skin against hers.  Because she trusted him completely and he needed to know what it had been like for her, she opened her emotions to what she had experienced when she had been trapped in decon with the fury of a singular Pon Farr raging though her body.  Together they felt the loneliness, yearning and lust that had had no end in sight.  Together their minds and bodies moved to drive it all out, companionship for the loneliness, another's passion to support the yearning and a bondmate's lust that matched hers and carried them through to completion.  Wrapped around all that was the Human emotion love, which T'Pol was beginning to recognize.  It provided emotional warmth and depth to a purely physical action and because of it, when they finally drifted off to sleep; their minds and lives were bound as no Vulcan had ever been bound before.        

……………………….

T'Pol tried to open her eyes, but could only see clearly out of the right one. Her left cheek was pressed into the hollow of Jonathan's chest and her lashes tangled with the coarse curly hairs that grew there.  After they had made love the last time, she had not moved except to slump down in exhaustion. She had been vaguely aware of him reaching for the blanket to cover them, but except for that, neither of them had moved.  She was still sprawled on top of him, legs straddling his hips and he still had his arms wrapped securely around her.

Their minds were as closely tangled as their bodies, and she could feel him waking.  He was dreaming about her, and it was triggering his desire. Mating with a Human was going to present some problems she had never anticipated. She concentrated on a complex math problem to keep from being drawn in, or they would never make it out of bed. If things had been different, she would have slammed her mental shields closed, but to do so when bonded could cause mental pain, especially when the bond was so new.

"Good morning," Jonathan mumbled as he kissed the top of her head and ran his hands down her back. "I know you're all right, I can feel it."  It was strange knowing that he was so in tune with another person. "But you're so much smaller than I am, I need to ask it anyway."  He picked up her hand and compared the difference in bone structure. Something he'd totally forgotten when passion had taken control the night before.  "Are you all right?"  

"You would never hurt me, Jonathan. Trust in our bond, it will always tell you the truth."  For a moment she let her math problem go by the wayside, but carefully slid off of him. "Thank you for asking."

"We've got a ship to run, haven't we?"  He knew she was holding back on the passion that could easily come boiling back to the surface. He could feel it in his mind and read the message in her eyes.

"Unfortunately," she whispered.  The loss of his physical touch left her shivering.

"Are you going to be able to handle this? Humans aren't like Vulcans; my desire for you isn't something I can control, and loving you only makes it more intense." He pulled the blanket around her and swung his legs over the edge of the bed to put some distance between them.

His concern for her was her undoing. It unlocked all the feelings she thought she had under control.  With a deep growl she tossed aside the covers and knelt behind him on the bed. She wrapped her arms loosely around his neck, while she gently nipped his earlobe and to her intense pleasure, rubbed her body against his back.

Jonathan was slammed with desire that he had no wish to fight.  He reached over his left shoulder and grabbed her under the arms.  In one tug he pulled her up, until he had her balanced on his shoulder, then he stood with his hand possessively on her bottom.

"Where are we going?" Her words were slurred, and heavy with passion. With each step he took, it grew more intense until she was blinded with it, and nipped and scratched at him, wherever she could reach.

"To kill two birds with one stone," he groaned as he stepped into the shower and turned on the water.  He was rewarded with her gasp as she slid down his back until she was standing under the warm spray.  "Here we can at least pretend we're getting ready for work."

"But why…"

"This is why."  He turned toward her and in one quick motion pulled her water-slicked body against his as he lifted her off her feet.  His lips covered hers and he turned them until water pounded down on their heads and rushed over their shoulders, unable to find a clear path between them.  Then slowly he backed her against the wall and let her body slip down his.

"Please don't stop," she whimpered, her eyes heavy lidded and deep green with desire as her hands slipped and slid over his body.

"I don't plan on it."  His voice was husky as he towered over her, blocking the spray with his back.

………………………….

Commander Tucker had almost finished his breakfast when Archer double-timed it into the Captain's dining room. 

"You oversleep?"  Trip frowned at his friend's hair that was still damp.  Jonathan usually appeared at the morning table fresh and ready to go.

"You could say that."  He concentrated on pouring his coffee and tried not to look up when he felt T'Pol enter the room, but saw Trip giving her the once over as she sat and poured the pot of tea Chef had left for her.

"Hhhmm, there seems to be an epidemic of oversleepin' goin' round these days."  Trip's comment was made to no one in particular, but his eyes kept darting back and forth between Archer and T'Pol, both with damp hair.

"I didn't realize that fell under the Department Of Engineering," Archer ground out.

"Ya may be right about that," the Chief Engineer shoved back his chair and left the private dining room whistling.

"I do not believe we fooled him."  T'Pol put down her cup and looked up at Jonathan.

"I doubt it, especially since you've got a bad case of whisker burn on your neck."  He ran his hand over the left side of her throat.  "Sorry about that, I guess I should have shaved."

"I did not want to wait this morning for the time it would have taken." 

"So I noticed.  For a woman who was raised on a planet with virtually no water you seemed to enjoy yourself in the shower."  His eyes sparkled at the memory.  Last night he had been the aggressor, but this morning it had been like being attacked by a small wet, very sensuous kitten and he'd enjoyed every moment of it.

"This will get us into trouble again.  I believe I must teach you some methods to suppress your emotions, Jonathan Archer." She touched her skin where it still tingled, from where his face had so recently been. "Dr. Phlox may be able to help conceal this _burn_ on my neck." She wanted to trail her finger down his cleanly shaven cheek, but restrained herself.  "I have always found your whiskers fascinating, Vulcan males do not have them. I think if they did, their bondmates would enjoy them a great deal."  

………………………….

T'Pol kept her shields tightly in place while on the bridge, but still Jonathan's feelings leaked through at odd times.  She decided early in her shift that they would need to begin his lessons on mental discipline that night.

"Sub-Commander," Hoshi looked up, clearly worried. "I've got an incoming message for you from the Vulcan Embassy on Earth."

"Thank you Ensign."  T'Pol looked around her station, a bit lost.  She had not anticipated the Ambassador would respond personally especially since they were still well within reach of Vulcan.  It was more likely that if her resignation had been acknowledged at all, it would have been by a minor member of the High Command

"Hoshi, wait a minute, then put it though to my Ready Room." Archer called out, as he walked carefully over to the science station. "Take this one in private."  His eyes met hers in an attempt to give support, "do you want me there?"

"I must do this alone," she mouthed.

T'Pol sat in Jonathan's large desk chair and for a moment wondered why there was no icy hand squeezing at her mid section like it usually did when she sat in that spot.  Then she understood that it was because for the first time, he was a few feet away on the other side of the bulkhead, instead of missing somewhere as usual when she was in that room without him.  The knowledge made it easy for her to turn on the monitor and face her mentor, though she carefully schooled her emotions so he would see nothing of the events of the last twelve hours.

When Ambassador Soval's image filled her screen, his voice filled the room. "The High Command wants you to instruct the Humans to return you to Vulcan.  It's not too late." 

"I am no longer under your authority." The words came easily as T'Pol looked him in the eyes.

"This is not my order, it comes directly from the High Command, and is for your own safety."  He watched her closely for some sign that would guide him. "Didn't you learn anything from what happened to the Vaankara?  The Humans will end up like that and you right along with them."  He hated to see her die for a useless cause, but was it really useless?

"We are prepared for the consequences of our actions, but the Xindi must be stopped."

"The High Command believes you are being impulsive.  You can still change your mind and salvage your career."

"I will not leave _them_!"  

"Them or him_?_ You owe the Humans nothing, Archer least of all." Soval saw his mark hit home, as she blinked to hide her reaction. "It's his fault you contracted Pa'nar Syndrome.  You owe him nothing."

She had been unprepared for his attack on Jonathan, but she would have none of it. "If you choose to believe that way, then you could also say that it is because of Capt. Archer that I am cured, since it happened on Enterprise. I trust him, and I believe the High Command should as well."  She took a deep breath; her temper was close to the surface, since her emotions were still in turmoil from mating a few hours earlier.  She did not bother to ask how he had come by his knowledge of her illness, since logic told her Dr. Oratt was behind it.

"There is no cure for Pa'nar Syndrome!"  Soval challenged.  It had been an area that had divided conservative and liberal Vulcans for years, if a cure were found, it would be a help to the newly emerging liberal party of which the Ambassador was a quiet supporter.

T'Pol sat back in Jonathan's chair and stared him down.  He could think what he liked, but she was done with foolish arguing.  "If you question my honesty, I suggest you contact Dr. Phlox and he will give you the information you seek.  I shall see that he has my _permission_ to release it to you."

The Ambassador didn't miss her jab at the lack of doctor patient confidentially in her case.  "I shall do just that, Sub-Commander--" 

"I tendered my resignation at 1300 hours, ship's time yesterday.  I believe that title is no longer appropriate."

"And if the High Command refuses to accept it?"

"It would be illogical to do so, I am remaining on Enterprise."

"The political waters are deep and murky, T'Pol," he gave in to her on the subject of rank for the moment.  "Walk carefully or you may regret it in the future."

"Has Vulcan issued sanctions against Earth because of my resignation?" That had been her primary worry.  She knew there was nothing they could do to her. 

"It would be illogical to find fault with a planet because of the misguided actions of a few."  He watched her carefully, unsure if she understood the political ramifications of what she had done.  "We were beginning to gain respect for Capt. Archer after the way he helped with the Andorian cease fire, be very careful of your motives for staying."    

"My reasons for staying are my own, but how can the High Command sit back and do nothing?"  She wondered how much Soval knew and why he had let her leave on Enterprise, unless he had wanted her to remain there, but that made no sense.  "If the Xindi would destroy one planet, why not another?"

"Something must be clouding your logic."  He fished for the answer he wished for, but T'Pol didn't move a muscle at his words. "We have already begun talks to help the Humans by placing ships along side theirs, to guard against further attacks. We have no wish to be a primary target, but we realize that since we have been closely tied to them over the years, if you fail in your mission, we are as vulnerable as Earth.  The High Command may place sanctions against you, but you are still Vulcan and deserve our protection as well."

"What are you trying to tell me, Ambassador?"  She whispered, unable to make sense of his last remark. As she watched Soval carefully, she remembered something else the Jonathan of the future had told her. **"_When it became necessary for Earth and Vulcan to form a temporary alliance for their mutual safety, Soval became our biggest fan.  He saw what we had accomplished, and knew it was in Vulcan's best interest to join with Earth.  He had always trusted you, and your trust in me turned his beliefs into convictions._"** But the timing was off by over two years._  'This could not be the beginning of the alliance Daniels had spoken to Jonathan about.'_

"I am told that Enterprise will be within range of Vulcan for another 30 hours, until that time your resignation will not be made public."  He chose to ignore her question and went on as if it had not been asked.

"I will not be changing my mind."  Her chin rose in final defiance of the man she had worked with for years. "But what is there that you are not telling me?"

"You're an astute politician, I believe you know the answer to that. The High Command wishes me to inform you that the night Enterprise passes out of Vulcan space with you on board, your family will be burning funeral candles for you, since to them, you will be considered dead."  He cut the transmission and left her staring at a blank monitor.__

……………………….

T'Pol had trouble focusing, _'would my family really be as narrow minded as that_?' Then she remembered T'Mir's journal and that if she had not taken it when she left for her assignment on Earth, her mother's sister would have had it destroyed when she became head of the family. Though the crash of T'Mir's ship was well documented in Vulcan history, the day-to-day lives of the crew was not.  The journal was the only proof that an old honorable family had an ancestor who had deceived the High Command.  '_Yes, they would be just that narrow minded,'_ she nodded to herself.

"T'Pol?"  The door to the Ready Room slid open.  Jonathan had waited as long as he could after the channel between Earth and Enterprise had been cut. He was worried and needed to see how she was fairing. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I am fine."  She moved from his chair and was unsure where to stand or what to do next until she caught sight of herself in the view port.  "It would appear that I am on duty, out of uniform."  Her hand brushed across the collar of her High Command dress browns.  "May I have Lt. Reed cover my station while I go to my quarters and change?"

"That's all? You want to change your clothes?"  He was surprised, at the very least he had expected her to tell him what Soval had said.

"I think it would be appropriate." She had missed something in her discussion with Soval, but her mind would not focus.  Too much had happened in the last day and she needed badly to meditate.

That morning she had told him to trust in their bond. Jonathan took a moment and did just that.  She had cut all formal ties with her planet to help prevent the destruction of his. What must she be going through? _He reminded himself he was dealing with a Vulcan. Had he expected her to lay her head on his shoulder and cry because of all that was between them?_ He supposed he had, but that was unimportant, now. She needed him and he was failing her by waiting for her to take a step she didn't know how to take.

"T'Pol," he whispered her name as he reached for her shoulders and held her gently.  For a moment she fought it, then leaned into his embrace. "First tell me one thing. Do we need to be on the lookout for Vulcan as well as Klingon warships?"

"The High Command will be sending no one." Her words echoed in the silence and made him understand how cut off she was. 

"Come here," he pulled her close to support her mentally and physically.  One by one her shields crumpled, and he felt what he'd expected, _'if it weren't for their bond, she would have been totally alone'_ "It's me Jonathan, remember, and I love you."

"Thank you for being here," she whispered into his neck.  "I can not help it, sometimes, I will always try to hold things back, I am Vulcan."

"It took me about a minute to figure that out."  He smiled as he ran his hand through her hair.  "It changes nothing."

Something warm and full was bubbling up inside of her.  It had nothing to do with desire, but everything to do with Jonathan.  She clung to him all the harder as she felt herself engulfed in the emotion she had been refusing to recognize for almost two years.  "I think I love you," the words she could not hold back any longer spilled forth.

"T'Pol?"  He held her tightly, unable to believe what he'd just heard.  "What did you say?"

"I think…I love you."  Her head dropped back against his arm and her eyes swept open.  "I know I love you. This emotion has been with me for a long time, but I had no name for it."  For the first time she stood on her tiptoes and initiated a kiss, it was strange and delicious.  She wondered why, last night, she had always waited for him to be the one to start the kissing.  This Human meeting of the lips was a wild ride somewhere between a touch of the fingers and the completion of mating.  It made her feel complete!

…………………

It took Enterprise over seven weeks at warp 5 to reach the outer rim of the Delphic Expanse. Not long after entering it, Jonathan had his first lesson in what T'Pol already knew, that they were much stronger together than either of them could ever be alone.  Soon after, they both learned how strong they really were. It was their bond that kept them together when logic would have pulled them apart.  It kept them safe when time and space twisted and turned in an attempt to erase all that was important to them.

Because he could still feel the presence of their bond, Jonathan kept T'Pol by his side when he had mutated into another species on a strange planet deep in the Expanse.  Though everything in his new alien body screamed to make her his, something that he did not understand pulled at his mind so he kept her close, but protected.

Their bond was the thread, which T'Pol held onto when her emotions were being stripped bare and she was on the edge of madness with Trellium D poisoning on the derelict Vulcan ship Seleya.  Archer had to drag her physically and at pistol point off the ship, but not even his determined strength could have salvaged her mental capacity if that thread had not existed.

When Enterprise was hit by a spatial anomaly, both of them were knocked against a bulkhead and T'Pol pinned beneath another. Physically they were torn apart. Jonathan flew down the corridor and cracked his head on the deck.  She could only look on in horror when she realized that for a split second she was unable to feel his side of their bond.  It was almost as if he had lost all memory of it.

"What do you think really happened?"  They snuggled close in their bed; secure that the bond they had come to rely on had survived whatever the spatial anomaly had thrown their way.

"I do not know."  T'Pol trailed her finger down his chest.  "But it is of no consequence."

"How can you say that?  Phlox found traces of a temporal disturbance in the corridor where I had been."  He really hated the idea that the timeline might have been interfered with again.

"Because whatever it was, it has passed.  We survived it and so did our bond."

"I guess you're right, but I'd love to know what I was doing when I should have been getting you out from under that bulkhead."  He rolled her beneath him and slowly kissed her ear.

"You need not worry, no matter what it was, I was with you."  She ran her hands up his back getting joy from touching and being touched.  "I am now, and I always will be at your side. It is where I belong. No matter what time does to us, our bond will remain intact."

"You're pretty sure of yourself," he smiled down at her.

"If my Vulcan logic did not tell me so, then the Human love you have taught me does." She squirmed beneath him like a sensuous cat.  "I have caught your scent, Jonathan Archer," she growled as passion swept through her.

_Together their minds finished the lines from the Vulcan Bonding ceremony, 'my mind to your mind, forever together, forever apart, until that time when our Katras are joined, and together we follow the many who have come before us.'_

…………………………

Six months after Enterprise entered the Delphic Expanse, Ambassador Soval walked along the bike path on the Marina Green.  He knew it was one of T'Pol's favorite places to walk.  Because he had just completed a late night meeting with Admiral Forrest, his thoughts were with his protégée lost in that strange sector where space, time, and physics twisted in upon themselves until no known rules applied.

Had he done the right thing in letting her leave on Enterprise, especially when he'd felt the vibrations she didn't know she was broadcasting?  It had been obvious she was attached to Archer. He didn't know if it would lead to a bond; after all, Archer was Human, but logic had told him it would help the Earth ship survive, but for how long, he did not know. He supposed, like T'Pol he had spent too much time on Earth, because he believed the Humans deserved a chance to prosper as Vulcan had in its early days of space travel.

He hadn't been able to go against the High Command's orders and send her openly, as he would have liked.  To do so would have brought Earth's government into it.  Once that happened, Vulcan honor would have required sanctions against the planet.  It could have become as serious as the breaking off of all ties with the Humans, which would have left them alone in their fight to survive against the Xindi.

Now there was a new threat, to both Vulcan and Earth.  It came in the form of pirates that preyed on both species' cargo and merchant vessels.  The only clue to the raider's planet of origin had been found in information downloaded from Enterprise's computer prior to leaving for the Delphic Expanse.  The configuration of the ships belonging to the attackers resembled those of the Romulan Empire. It wasn't much to go on, but it was all they had.  Soval had been instrumental in putting together the treaty between Earth and Vulcan for their joint protection against not only the Xindi, and this new danger on the horizon.

He had done the best he could for his planet and the Humans, if only he could do something to restore T'Pol's honor, sometime in the future, it would make his elder years more comfortable to live with. He took a moment to gaze at the stars, knowing she was out there somewhere, moving further and further away with each breath he took. His lips moved in an ancient Vulcan prayer for one who was lost.  "And the stars shall light the way, on your dark and rocky path into the future."  Then he added a more modern one, "live long and prosper, T'Pol of Enterprise." 

**_THE END_**


End file.
