Mates TPol's POV

**My Mate: T'Pols POV**

**By Silverbullet**

**Rating:** PG-13

**Genres:** romance

**Keywords:**

This story is number 1 in the series "Mates"

**Thanks:** To **justTrip'n!**

T-Pol basked in the afterglow of lovemaking. Trip still lay on top of her. She knew he weighed over 90 kilograms, but at the moment she welcomed the weight. In a bit it would be uncomfortable. Trip, sensing this, rolled onto his side, pulling her with him. He held her closely in what she knew was called a "cuddle." _What an odd name for something so pleasurable._ He kissed her neck, jaw, and mouth, while whispering words of love in her ear. There were a few things that Humans do that she adored, and being cuddled was one of them. She edged in closer to him and slipped into a doze. A while later, she felt him get up from the bunk.

T-Pol looked at Trip as he stood near the bunk. He had blonde hair, blue eyes, a mischievous smile, and was handsome. He was tall, 172 centimeters. He had broad shoulders, a deep chest, flat belly, strong arms, flat hips, sturdy legs, a firm muscular butt, and was very well-endowed. He was, as Hoshi said, quite a man.

He had trained himself to sleep like a cat. He could come awake and alert in an instant. He explained by saying, "I don't have time to be waking up slowly. In an emergency, I have to get down to engineering. I must be wide awake and ready to take care of whatever the problem is."

T-Pol knew from experience. She had seen people come into the dining hall half asleep, trying to clear their heads. Trip had startled her one morning: He'd jumped out of bed, drew on his pajama bottoms, and raced out of the door. Hess had told her later that Engineering had had an emergency. Apparently Trip had heard something wrong with the engines in his sleep. He had come into Engineering immediately asking questions, hurried to the problem area, inspected it, found a solution, and took care of everything in a short time. Hess said that the problem could have caused them to lose a valuable piece of equipment. Trip had stayed to run some tests, and when satisfied, left Engineering, saying he was going back to bed.

T-Pol knew that the Engineering crew adored Trip and was intensely loyal to him. The other crew on board also liked Trip a great deal and were personally loyal to him. They knew he cared for them as people not just as subordinates. He visited each section once a week, not only to inspect but to talk with the crewmen, asking them how they felt about their families or if they had any problems. He also had lunch or dinner twice a month in the enlisted crew's mess. Once a month, he just went down to the enlisted area to visit, tell risqué jokes, or sing a few verses of limericks. Always there was a line that proved he still a full commander, but relaxed at the same time.*

Trip also had the reputation that if a person had a problem they wanted to talk about, he would listen. He would meet in the Dining Hall, the Arboretum or, in their quarters. He listened, helped them talk their way through the problem, or just let them get it off their chests.

"One hell of a good Officer," summed up the man to general agreement. His crew knew that Trip would stand between them and the captain if he knew they were right.

He was courageous. T'Pol remembered the time he had crawled on the line between _Columbia_ and _Enterprise _while they were at warp. One slip and he would have been gone forever. That took a great deal of bravery. Once on board, he'd gone to Engineering and in a few minutes had saved _Enterprise_. She knew he said he did it to save the crew and the ship, but she also liked to think he did it because she was on board and in danger.

He was open and friendly; he smiled and laughed much of the time. He made everyone feel at ease around him. It was said he could charm a bird out of a tree. Yet he was an intensely private man. He held things in, never letting his pain out until it became unbearable. She had found that out when he broke down over his sister's death. He was not ashamed of tears. He was very sensitive.

He was good around children: the little girl he saw that he thought was being abused; the boy on the world where the Klingons were terrorizing a mining colony; Elizabeth the binary clone who was their daughter. He felt her death deeply. He was stoic when Elizabeth was put in the crypt on Vulcan, but cried later at her mother's house. She thought that he would make a very good father.

She had asked Malcolm what he thought of Trip. "If I am ever in a jam or a fight, I want him beside me. I know I can count on him and that he is brave. I like to think that we are close friends. I consider him to be, or hope he is," Malcolm had said.

She asked Hoshi too. "A very deep man," Hoshi said. "There is much beneath that face he shows everyone. I think he is fascinating. He is a whole lot of man too. The woman who wins him will have won a great life."

"You are attracted to him then?" asked T'Pol

"Not in that way," said Hoshi. "No, I prefer a different man. Another who hides a lot under his façade. He too is handsome—and a little dangerous. But it doesn't show . . . you have to know him." Hoshi stole a quick glance at Malcolm as she said this.

T'Pol watched Trip walk out of the bathroom toweling off. There was no swagger in him, but no false modesty either. He knew his worth. She loved to watch him move. He was like a large cat. On the balls of his feet. Always in balance. If the ship lost gravity and suddenly turned upside down, he would land on his feet. To her he was magnificent. There were other larger men, but he seemed to be perfect in her mind. It was not only his body she admired but his mind too. He was very intelligent, sometimes brilliant. _That_ he also kept private as much as he could.

She knew that as a Vulcan she should not be so attracted to a Human, but there was no other Human like this man. He was unique. She had turned away from her society, traditions, beliefs, and customs for him—like many other females over the centuries who had chosen their man over everything else. She had no regrets. Her choice was superior to what she had walked away from. He was hers totally and she was his. That summed it up. They would never part. There would be no turning back.

After he had toweled off, she got up trotted in to the bathroom, showered, brushed her teeth, and rinsed. She returned to the bunk where he was waiting. This was the one day a month they took off. Usually there were no free weekends in space; there was no time for that. But they allowed themselves one day. It was spent making love, eating, napping, making love, maybe playing a game of chess, and being like a married couple at home. It pleased her very much. He often talked about a time when they would have a home of their own with children. That thrilled her because it promised a life with him that she wanted desperately: a life of her dreams.

Sometimes in the afterglow of making love, Trip would talk about having children. "A boy, girl— or preferably both," he'd said. "Doesn't matter. Just as long as you are the mother. I can't imagine any children of mine that are not half you."

T-Pol wondered how the children would be accepted. She worried that they would be outcasts as her mother had hinted. "I want my children to have a good life, being able to live among Humans or Vulcans without worry. It would not be fair to bring them into a hostile world."

"We'll just have to make a happy home for them. Raise them around beings that accept that aliens and Humans can mix. I am sure my family will accept and love them," said Trip

She had been surprised to find he was romantic. He had candlelight dinners for her. Sometimes they just talked, listened to music. Often after dinner, he read poetry to her from his favorite poets. There were times when they just ate and later made love. Occasionally he would sing to her. He had a nice voice. "Passable baritone," he said. No Vulcan male would do those things. They would be illogical.

_What fate has brought us together?_ She wondered. _Why should I, as a Vulcan woman, be so blessed to have this Man as my own. He is Human but it does not matter to him that we are from two worlds. He is content that we are one together.  
_  
Finis

*The limerick Trip recited to the enlisted men:

"There once was a lady from Madras  
who had a magnificent ass  
Not round and pink, like you might think  
But was gray, brayed, and ate grass"


End file.
