Here we go.
That's the end, my friends.
The long story about how things went for real during the first night of love of our two beloved Trip and T'Pol, and during the morning after, and then again, during their (until this moment as yet unknown) second night of love (and by no means the last), is about to end.
This, below, is the last chapter.
But it certainly is not the end, because ...
That's the end, my friends.
The long story about how things went for real during the first night of love of our two beloved Trip and T'Pol, and during the morning after, and then again, during their (until this moment as yet unknown) second night of love (and by no means the last), is about to end.
This, below, is the last chapter.
But it certainly is not the end, because ...
...here it's the start of the future
Yes. The start of the future of our beloved sweethearts.
Of their future together.
Even if through the hardest war of love which could ever be fighted.
Chapter Fourteen
The last one
The Start of the Future
The last one
The Start of the Future
Around us, silence and soft light.
Close to me, him.
He sleeps.
I'm lying to his side, tight to him, nude, with my head in the hollow of his shoulder.
My legs are intertwined with his, and his arm embraces me, holds me tightly, says to me that I am his, even in his slumber.
All is quiet, there are no aliens tonight, to disturb us.
Who can interrupt our intimacy.
There was no need to speak. No shower, this time, no urgency to get cleaned and... deodorized. This time, intimate closeness. And intimate rest.
He enwrapped both of us with the blanket and pulled me down, on the bed. What more natural, than falling asleep, close to each other, on the bed which has seen our love games and which now would see our sweet togetherness? The soft joy to regain our strength in the arms of each other?
I fell asleep within his hug, in his warmth, easily, without any effort, like this were the most obvious, logical, thing; like I had been waiting for this, my whole life.
The sleep took hold of me, surrounded by the smell of our lovemaking, by his scent; cradled by the beat of his breath.
Then, a slight sound has wakened me. I hadn't ever heard a sound like this, because I hadn't ever slept with anyone... with a man.
With my man.
But I knew what it was; it was his snoring, low and deep. And enthralling.
A sound that is only for me, which only I know.
I watch him.
Careful not to move myself from the position I have in his unconscious hug, I lift my eyes to his face.
He is marvellously handsome!
And is mine!
I follow the curves of his face with my look, see the blond fuzz of his beard on his cheeks, observe the sunny glare of his hair in the reverberation of candlelight.
I imagine, I can see the blue glint of his laughing eyes behind his quietly closed eyelids.
He is mine!
And... and I am his!
He made me his.
I will be his... forever.
I adhere to him.
His. His His His!
I could never have thought that such a... such a joy - yes! joy! Humans are not mistaken. - may exist.
I will be at his side. Forever. Everywhere.
Forever. Forever! Forever! Everywhere!
He will hold my hand, will support me. Will love me!
Forever. Forever! Forever! Everywhere!
I will follow him, to his home, when this matter with the Xindi will have ended.
I close my eyes in pure bliss, at the thought of my life with my man.
Earth will become my homeland, yes. I will go proudly to it, following the destiny of my man.
Yes, yes. I will walk next to him, triumphant and happy, ignoring...
I open my eyes. I breathe harshly.
...ignoring the disapproval which will surround us.
I, a Vulcan woman... the mate of his life. No one of his countrymen will approve. No one will understand. A halo of distrust and of animadversion will encircle us, and he... he will no longer have friends, maybe... maybe not even a job. Starfleet won't allow us to be... to be...
Oh, but what does that matter? What does count? I... I know, yes, I know for sure that my man shall care nothing of all that! I...saw it in his eyes, in his face. In his expression, his posture. His deportment, his behaviour.
I heard it in his voice, in his words. In his tone.
He wants me, he... how would he say?... doesn't give a damn about Starfleet, and homeworld, and friends, and job... He - Oh, I know! I am sure! - he will give up everything for me!
And then... why should we live on Earth? There is Vulcan, too. My own homeworld. If my mate has to leave all that was his previous life to stay with me, why shouldn't we choose to live on Vulcan?
He is clever, smart, skillful, adaptable, resilient. His mind is open, he is highly capable of learning, of making himself well accepted to everyone. Oh yes, sure! Even...
I breathe hard, again.
... even to my countrymen. To my cold, disdainful, supercilious countrymen. To my countrymen, so scornful toward Humans. And... and who will very contemptuously behave toward me. With me, who has dared defy the High Command, and, not content, has dared become the mate of a Human man. And has dared to bring him to Vulcan, and to display him, in open air, as the man who has me, to whom I belong.
The mate I have chosen.
A Human. Not a Vulcan.
In despite of all our traditions, our beliefs, our convictions. In spite of my betrothal, made in accord with our customs. In spite of everything.
I will become a pariah, in my homeland, and I will condemn my man to the same fate.
I cling to him, even more, even if careful to not disturb him. I...need comfort.
I need him.
I need him even if he isn't able to notice it.
My mind works. It runs, speedily. Seeks.
There must be a solution, there must be.
And if he and I, both of us, give up both our homelands? Another world, foreign, distant, virgin, willing to welcome us, to... to accept such a strange couple.
There has to be such a world, it must exist. A world where we can live, together, without shame and without concerns, where we may be able to have a free life, to have... to have children, if it might be possible, uncaring of their... of their being different.
Oh yes yes yes! That's the remedy, the solution. We will live for ourselves, we have no need of anything else.
That's the logical answer to all of our problems.
Logical, yes. Logic wants this, as much as the same logic dictates that I can no longer stay without him!
It's logical, it's logical, it's...
Logical? LOGICAL?
Suddenly I become aware of what I am thinking, of the illogical course of my thoughts, and what's worse, of the fact that more or less unconsciously I am trying to justify what I am thinking and planning for me and for my man, hiding all the illogic of my cerebrations under the false mantle of logic, a logic that I am inventing only to find some ways to satisfy my needs, regardless of the fate I am planning to condemn my man to.
I attempt desperately to not move, while the dark illogic of my false reasoning reveals itself in all its extent.
Logic...
Logic... The lighthouse which enlightened my whole life, which guided me. And now, I would want to bend it, to twist it to justify my needs, my illogical desires. In the name of logic, under its shield, I would want to erase from my man's life his life itself,
I seduced him. I wounded him. I caught him again. I played with him, with his feelings and his body. With his soul. I didn't take care of his needs, I cared only for mine.
And now I am thinking of playing with his life, to constrain it into my needs, once more, without minimally caring for his own needs, once more.
Without minimally thinking to ask him what he would want.
But what woman am I?
My eyes are wide open to the reality, now.
And reality is dark, for me. Demeaning.
Mortifying.
What woman am I? I am a liar, that's what am I! And an obscure machinator. I am...I am.. I am a woman who wants all and gives nothing!
And... and an addict! An addict, unworthy to have him.
I can't... I mustn't...
Abruptly, the consequences of what I did, show themselves to me in all their extent.
I dared ignore the laws of my homeland, I went out from its order, voluntarily, and, because of that, never again I will be for my homeworld the respectful citizen I was.
But this has been my choice, and, if for once I want to be honest with myself, now it's perfectly clear why I made this choice. But I... I can't ask my T'hai'la to meet my same destiny, and... and even if I am sure that he would have no hesitations to stay with me in spite of everything, I can't... I mustn't ask him to do that.
And then, with which face could I say this to him? And what words could I tell him? "Commander... Trip... I know that this may sound weird to your ears, but... well... in short... yes, it's true that I was always tough towards you, that I treated you badly even... even after our... night, but... TRIP! I can't live without you! Leave everything! For me! Please! Stay with me and do not care for your life itself."
Absurd. ABSURD!
With effort, I manage to not fidget in the hug of my man. Of the man... of the man I will lose.
The weeping that I knew for the first time before this marvellous second night of love knocks again in my eyes.
How can Humans deal with emotions? HOW? How can they live in this storm, without getting destroyed? And how can it be possible that emotions follow one after the other in such a contrasting way? Few moments ago I was happy and now I am in a maelstrom of despair.
What will my life be, henceforth? And... how will I be capable, without him, of living with all this, with the emotions I searched for, only...only - the truth boils, scary, in the depths of my katra - ...in the end...not to be able to have him?
Now I know that!
But I know also that I can't... I mustn't ask him to make a sacrifice that he hadn't sought, that he should make only in the name of a tie that I, and not he, have built.
I don't want to be a woman who asks for everything and doesn't give back anything! He gave me so much, already! I can't ... I mustn't require him to make me happy, with his own sacrifice.
For once I must be honest!
Honest...
Honest! The truth goes on to boil, more and more scary, in my depths; then it goes up, grows. Until it reaches the surface.
The Pandora's vase of the Human myth is open by now. And from it, it went out... the fear!
I HAVE FEAR!
I have fear of what I did, I have fear of what I became, I have fear of what I was , I have fear of what I will be.
I have fear to have him and I have fear to lose him.
And I have fear to reveal myself to him.
And to be unable to give him what he deserves; to be incapable of making him... happy.
Because I am a Vulcan! I am not made for him!
I AM A VULCAN!
A Vulcan, a Vulcan, a Vulcan!
Logic is my way! Nothing else. And if logic failed me in these days and these nights, I must regain my true being.
The Expanse! Sure! The expanse. It's its fault, it brought me to all this.
My man! My Beloved. My T'hai'la. MY ASHAYAM! But how was I able to have this thought? I am mad, the Expanse switched on the fire of craziness in my mind. But this travel will end; the Expanse will end! And with it, my madness, too, will end.
I have only to hold on.
Sure.
And that day, all the incredible sensations I have had, those crazy ideas about a link, a liaison, a... a Bond between me and this Human man... all will end.
I...I have only to hold on.
A Bond. A BOND! Legends! Myths! Irrational guffs coming from an illogical past!
I will be capable of fighting against all that. I will have again my logic, and my logic will repel in my depths even the mere idea of this Bond.
I will be able to think about all this with cold, Vulcan-like, amusement, only regretting... only regretting the way I lost... my purity.
With a Human man.
With him.
I raise my eyes, looking at his quiet face, once more.
Inside me, they are living the sensations he gave me. That he is giving me. Even now.
What a tangle of contradictions I became!
I don't want him, and I want him. I regret what I did, and I relish it. I have shame, and I am proud. I want to live together with him forever, and I am afraid of this thought. I desire him, and I... I hate myself for this desire. I feel ashamed of all I did with him and I would want to do it again, and again, and again.
I would want to be the woman I was... and I want to be the woman I am, now.
I would want to turn back, and I wouldn't want to do it.
I rebuke myself for all the sensations I had thanks to him, and I am basking in his closeness even now.
Impossible. IMPOSSIBLE!
It's.. IT'S THIS EXPANSE!
IT'S NOT ME!
But the Expanse will end, and with it my illogic. Yes, YES, YES!
And when this end will arrive, I... I will be able to stay alone again, to... to give up the warmth of his body against mine. The warmth that I feel now.
Now. NOW.
Now... now, though, we are still in the Expanse; it's obvious that it is still exerting its influence over me. It would be... would be illogical denying that. So... so... I could be justified, if I were forced to still be illogical.
I cling to him even more, closing my eyes and basking in his scent.
I am only a Vulcan woman, unable to battle against the force of the Expanse with her poor strength. Who will be able to blame me of what I did here? Who? And surely, when we will be out from the Expanse, I will be again logical enough to understand that, now, I can't claim to fight against the Expanse's influence.
I sink my nose in his fragrant skin.
Nobody will have the right to blame me if, now, I feel unable to cease, abruptly, what I have started. It's... it's the Expanse.
I intertwine my legs more strongly with his.
After all, some days yet... and some nights... like these, won't... won't count anything, when I will be again myself. It will have been... the Expanse.
I rub myself against him.
Some days yet, yes. And some nights.
Some nights of love.
Some lost battles yet, in this war that desperately I would want to lose, and that desperately I became aware I must win.
Nobody will know. And I will be capable of forgetting all. My regained logic will be able to help me.
All will remain... forever... in my depths.
Close to me, him.
He sleeps.
I'm lying to his side, tight to him, nude, with my head in the hollow of his shoulder.
My legs are intertwined with his, and his arm embraces me, holds me tightly, says to me that I am his, even in his slumber.
All is quiet, there are no aliens tonight, to disturb us.
Who can interrupt our intimacy.
There was no need to speak. No shower, this time, no urgency to get cleaned and... deodorized. This time, intimate closeness. And intimate rest.
He enwrapped both of us with the blanket and pulled me down, on the bed. What more natural, than falling asleep, close to each other, on the bed which has seen our love games and which now would see our sweet togetherness? The soft joy to regain our strength in the arms of each other?
I fell asleep within his hug, in his warmth, easily, without any effort, like this were the most obvious, logical, thing; like I had been waiting for this, my whole life.
The sleep took hold of me, surrounded by the smell of our lovemaking, by his scent; cradled by the beat of his breath.
Then, a slight sound has wakened me. I hadn't ever heard a sound like this, because I hadn't ever slept with anyone... with a man.
With my man.
But I knew what it was; it was his snoring, low and deep. And enthralling.
A sound that is only for me, which only I know.
I watch him.
Careful not to move myself from the position I have in his unconscious hug, I lift my eyes to his face.
He is marvellously handsome!
And is mine!
I follow the curves of his face with my look, see the blond fuzz of his beard on his cheeks, observe the sunny glare of his hair in the reverberation of candlelight.
I imagine, I can see the blue glint of his laughing eyes behind his quietly closed eyelids.
He is mine!
And... and I am his!
He made me his.
I will be his... forever.
I adhere to him.
His. His His His!
I could never have thought that such a... such a joy - yes! joy! Humans are not mistaken. - may exist.
I will be at his side. Forever. Everywhere.
Forever. Forever! Forever! Everywhere!
He will hold my hand, will support me. Will love me!
Forever. Forever! Forever! Everywhere!
I will follow him, to his home, when this matter with the Xindi will have ended.
I close my eyes in pure bliss, at the thought of my life with my man.
Earth will become my homeland, yes. I will go proudly to it, following the destiny of my man.
Yes, yes. I will walk next to him, triumphant and happy, ignoring...
I open my eyes. I breathe harshly.
...ignoring the disapproval which will surround us.
I, a Vulcan woman... the mate of his life. No one of his countrymen will approve. No one will understand. A halo of distrust and of animadversion will encircle us, and he... he will no longer have friends, maybe... maybe not even a job. Starfleet won't allow us to be... to be...
Oh, but what does that matter? What does count? I... I know, yes, I know for sure that my man shall care nothing of all that! I...saw it in his eyes, in his face. In his expression, his posture. His deportment, his behaviour.
I heard it in his voice, in his words. In his tone.
He wants me, he... how would he say?... doesn't give a damn about Starfleet, and homeworld, and friends, and job... He - Oh, I know! I am sure! - he will give up everything for me!
And then... why should we live on Earth? There is Vulcan, too. My own homeworld. If my mate has to leave all that was his previous life to stay with me, why shouldn't we choose to live on Vulcan?
He is clever, smart, skillful, adaptable, resilient. His mind is open, he is highly capable of learning, of making himself well accepted to everyone. Oh yes, sure! Even...
I breathe hard, again.
... even to my countrymen. To my cold, disdainful, supercilious countrymen. To my countrymen, so scornful toward Humans. And... and who will very contemptuously behave toward me. With me, who has dared defy the High Command, and, not content, has dared become the mate of a Human man. And has dared to bring him to Vulcan, and to display him, in open air, as the man who has me, to whom I belong.
The mate I have chosen.
A Human. Not a Vulcan.
In despite of all our traditions, our beliefs, our convictions. In spite of my betrothal, made in accord with our customs. In spite of everything.
I will become a pariah, in my homeland, and I will condemn my man to the same fate.
I cling to him, even more, even if careful to not disturb him. I...need comfort.
I need him.
I need him even if he isn't able to notice it.
My mind works. It runs, speedily. Seeks.
There must be a solution, there must be.
And if he and I, both of us, give up both our homelands? Another world, foreign, distant, virgin, willing to welcome us, to... to accept such a strange couple.
There has to be such a world, it must exist. A world where we can live, together, without shame and without concerns, where we may be able to have a free life, to have... to have children, if it might be possible, uncaring of their... of their being different.
Oh yes yes yes! That's the remedy, the solution. We will live for ourselves, we have no need of anything else.
That's the logical answer to all of our problems.
Logical, yes. Logic wants this, as much as the same logic dictates that I can no longer stay without him!
It's logical, it's logical, it's...
Logical? LOGICAL?
Suddenly I become aware of what I am thinking, of the illogical course of my thoughts, and what's worse, of the fact that more or less unconsciously I am trying to justify what I am thinking and planning for me and for my man, hiding all the illogic of my cerebrations under the false mantle of logic, a logic that I am inventing only to find some ways to satisfy my needs, regardless of the fate I am planning to condemn my man to.
I attempt desperately to not move, while the dark illogic of my false reasoning reveals itself in all its extent.
Logic...
Logic... The lighthouse which enlightened my whole life, which guided me. And now, I would want to bend it, to twist it to justify my needs, my illogical desires. In the name of logic, under its shield, I would want to erase from my man's life his life itself,
I seduced him. I wounded him. I caught him again. I played with him, with his feelings and his body. With his soul. I didn't take care of his needs, I cared only for mine.
And now I am thinking of playing with his life, to constrain it into my needs, once more, without minimally caring for his own needs, once more.
Without minimally thinking to ask him what he would want.
But what woman am I?
My eyes are wide open to the reality, now.
And reality is dark, for me. Demeaning.
Mortifying.
What woman am I? I am a liar, that's what am I! And an obscure machinator. I am...I am.. I am a woman who wants all and gives nothing!
And... and an addict! An addict, unworthy to have him.
I can't... I mustn't...
Abruptly, the consequences of what I did, show themselves to me in all their extent.
I dared ignore the laws of my homeland, I went out from its order, voluntarily, and, because of that, never again I will be for my homeworld the respectful citizen I was.
But this has been my choice, and, if for once I want to be honest with myself, now it's perfectly clear why I made this choice. But I... I can't ask my T'hai'la to meet my same destiny, and... and even if I am sure that he would have no hesitations to stay with me in spite of everything, I can't... I mustn't ask him to do that.
And then, with which face could I say this to him? And what words could I tell him? "Commander... Trip... I know that this may sound weird to your ears, but... well... in short... yes, it's true that I was always tough towards you, that I treated you badly even... even after our... night, but... TRIP! I can't live without you! Leave everything! For me! Please! Stay with me and do not care for your life itself."
Absurd. ABSURD!
With effort, I manage to not fidget in the hug of my man. Of the man... of the man I will lose.
The weeping that I knew for the first time before this marvellous second night of love knocks again in my eyes.
How can Humans deal with emotions? HOW? How can they live in this storm, without getting destroyed? And how can it be possible that emotions follow one after the other in such a contrasting way? Few moments ago I was happy and now I am in a maelstrom of despair.
What will my life be, henceforth? And... how will I be capable, without him, of living with all this, with the emotions I searched for, only...only - the truth boils, scary, in the depths of my katra - ...in the end...not to be able to have him?
Now I know that!
But I know also that I can't... I mustn't ask him to make a sacrifice that he hadn't sought, that he should make only in the name of a tie that I, and not he, have built.
I don't want to be a woman who asks for everything and doesn't give back anything! He gave me so much, already! I can't ... I mustn't require him to make me happy, with his own sacrifice.
For once I must be honest!
Honest...
Honest! The truth goes on to boil, more and more scary, in my depths; then it goes up, grows. Until it reaches the surface.
The Pandora's vase of the Human myth is open by now. And from it, it went out... the fear!
I HAVE FEAR!
I have fear of what I did, I have fear of what I became, I have fear of what I was , I have fear of what I will be.
I have fear to have him and I have fear to lose him.
And I have fear to reveal myself to him.
And to be unable to give him what he deserves; to be incapable of making him... happy.
Because I am a Vulcan! I am not made for him!
I AM A VULCAN!
A Vulcan, a Vulcan, a Vulcan!
Logic is my way! Nothing else. And if logic failed me in these days and these nights, I must regain my true being.
The Expanse! Sure! The expanse. It's its fault, it brought me to all this.
My man! My Beloved. My T'hai'la. MY ASHAYAM! But how was I able to have this thought? I am mad, the Expanse switched on the fire of craziness in my mind. But this travel will end; the Expanse will end! And with it, my madness, too, will end.
I have only to hold on.
Sure.
And that day, all the incredible sensations I have had, those crazy ideas about a link, a liaison, a... a Bond between me and this Human man... all will end.
I...I have only to hold on.
A Bond. A BOND! Legends! Myths! Irrational guffs coming from an illogical past!
I will be capable of fighting against all that. I will have again my logic, and my logic will repel in my depths even the mere idea of this Bond.
I will be able to think about all this with cold, Vulcan-like, amusement, only regretting... only regretting the way I lost... my purity.
With a Human man.
With him.
I raise my eyes, looking at his quiet face, once more.
Inside me, they are living the sensations he gave me. That he is giving me. Even now.
What a tangle of contradictions I became!
I don't want him, and I want him. I regret what I did, and I relish it. I have shame, and I am proud. I want to live together with him forever, and I am afraid of this thought. I desire him, and I... I hate myself for this desire. I feel ashamed of all I did with him and I would want to do it again, and again, and again.
I would want to be the woman I was... and I want to be the woman I am, now.
I would want to turn back, and I wouldn't want to do it.
I rebuke myself for all the sensations I had thanks to him, and I am basking in his closeness even now.
Impossible. IMPOSSIBLE!
It's.. IT'S THIS EXPANSE!
IT'S NOT ME!
But the Expanse will end, and with it my illogic. Yes, YES, YES!
And when this end will arrive, I... I will be able to stay alone again, to... to give up the warmth of his body against mine. The warmth that I feel now.
Now. NOW.
Now... now, though, we are still in the Expanse; it's obvious that it is still exerting its influence over me. It would be... would be illogical denying that. So... so... I could be justified, if I were forced to still be illogical.
I cling to him even more, closing my eyes and basking in his scent.
I am only a Vulcan woman, unable to battle against the force of the Expanse with her poor strength. Who will be able to blame me of what I did here? Who? And surely, when we will be out from the Expanse, I will be again logical enough to understand that, now, I can't claim to fight against the Expanse's influence.
I sink my nose in his fragrant skin.
Nobody will have the right to blame me if, now, I feel unable to cease, abruptly, what I have started. It's... it's the Expanse.
I intertwine my legs more strongly with his.
After all, some days yet... and some nights... like these, won't... won't count anything, when I will be again myself. It will have been... the Expanse.
I rub myself against him.
Some days yet, yes. And some nights.
Some nights of love.
Some lost battles yet, in this war that desperately I would want to lose, and that desperately I became aware I must win.
Nobody will know. And I will be capable of forgetting all. My regained logic will be able to help me.
All will remain... forever... in my depths.
I perceived that her breath was getting less quiet. I felt she was stirring, even if slightly. I felt it, as far deep my sleep was.
I awakened at her awakening.
But I didn't open my eyes, I didn't let her become aware that I was awake. I kept lying, quiet, breathing slowly and deeply, like if I were sleeping, eyes closed, without moving, without letting her go away from my embrace. I wanted to savour her closeness without her noticing my awakening. I wanted to know what she would do, in the warmth of my hug, thinking I was asleep, that I wasn't able to hear and feel her. I wanted to know if she would disentangle her legs from mine, or if she would go on relish our intimacy, with that liberty that a lover can taste when is free to show his feelings without the unconscious constraint of his object of love.
An ancient love game that I want to play with my Vulcan love.
And then, I didn't be able to see her, to feel her, the first night, after our first lovemaking; it has been missing to me the sweet sensation to relish the awakening of your woman in your arms and I want to prolong this delight as long as I am able to do it. I want to savour fully and deeply all that, as I was able to savour our falling asleep in the arms of each other, and I want do that, observing covertly what it will do the woman who is lying in my arms, this woman so different from any Human woman and most likely from any else Vulcan woman. This woman whom I really discovered only now, if truly I was able to do it, if truly it's possible that I am able to do it.
This marvellous woman who discovered love... with me.
I feel her move, slowly, lightly, carefully, like caring of not disturbing me.
She doesn't extricate her legs, and neither she attempts to untie herself from my embrace. She goes on keeping her head resting in the hollow of my shoulder. She seems to me to position her head more closely, pressing her face against my flesh. I feel her breath on my skin.
I don't know how, but I am sure she has raised her eyes and is looking at my visage. I feel it perfectly. I use the greatest attention to not betray that I am awake.
I feel she adheres to me, on purpose and advisedly. It's hard not to reveal that I am awake, not to hold her tightly to me even more, but it's too beautiful this play I am doing, it's too sweet this naughty game, this clandestinely spying on her while she is unaware that I am aware of her deeds. And it's melting to feel that she is clearly and freely putting in show her affection for me, her delight to feel herself free to savour our closeness and our intimacy, without the Vulcan inhibitions of her being able to exert their constraints over her.
The night, the silence, the atmosphere, the belief she has that I can't be able to sense what she is doing, are able to make her feel free to act in this way.
Oh yes, all this is indeed melting; it's wondrous to bask in her show of lovingness. There's in the tenderness that a woman in love is capable of display to her love, which is even more enchanting, somehow, than her getting lost in the love passion, and I don't feel at all guilty if, to have such delightful endearments from my Vulcan love, I must deceive her. It's an innocent wile. I don't know how, or maybe I prefer not to go much deeply in this matter, but I have the clear cognition that it would be very difficult for her to manifest such sort of soft and tender effusivenesses openly and frankly to me. Love passion is one thing, but the love effusions are something else, and this new and strange knowledge I feel of my T'Pol tells me that she is happy to show her affection and her joy, but that she wouldn't do it if I weren't giving her the way, with the unconsciousness of my sleep. And somehow I feel that she is glad that I am - namely...I seem to be - yet asleep, so that she can do what she's doing.
Damn! Love has been always tough with me! I searched always for the most difficult roads, to such an extent that in the end I fell in love with a Vulcan female, and - men! - it is very hard to be in love with a Vulcan female, judging from these first experiences. But... well!... it's really worth! At least... ahem... at least with T'Pol. Oh bah! In any case, it's a matter of fact that I won't ever have any comparison. AND I DON'T WANT TO HAVE IT! What, more or less unconsciously, I sought, I have found. Now my care must be to keep and to maintain it.
Because... because this fruit, this ultimate fruit of my search, is so unripe yet and still so mild! I can't even imagine how good its taste will be, when it will reach its full ripening.
And this is my task, the assignment that will fill my lifetime henceforth. It's me, the one who must care that this fruit can ripen well. I know, I feel clearly that she loves me, but I know too, I feel it plainly, that she has not the right tools. As far as she is smart, and strong, and open-minded, she can't cross the bridge if I don't lead her, holding her by her hand.
How could she do that, ignoring and uncaring of all that her whole life has been? And the restraints, the customs, the beliefs of a race older, much more older than mine, and stern, severe, obdurate, unbending, rightly or wrongly. And then, who am I, to arrogate the right to judge?
These thoughts, these thoughts I have, are... strange. Bizarre. It's like if I became capable of knowing her and what she is, and the reasons because of which she is what she is, in a way... in a way...
My mind goes back to our first night. But what happened, really, in that night?
What happened? Man! It happened that you picked up the most beautiful flower of the universe! That's what happened! And you discovered in that night what you knew was hidden in your depths. That you were in love with this marvellous Vulcan all along, and that, merely, she - and her love - have brought to the light this simple truth. It's obvious, - I smile to myself - logical, my T'Pol would say, than I am changing, that I am able to better know and understand her. Is it not that, which happens between two people in love with each other? A deeper understanding? A greater knowledge? Obvious, logical. And now all that I must do it is using this new understanding, this knowledge, this... this intimacy of thoughts, to help MY woman to go along this difficult road. A road harder for her, I know, than for me, for the childlike and stubbornly defiant Human I am.
I feel and savour the warm closeness of her body against mine. Of her soul around mine. She is holding strictly herself to me; slowly, carefully; she doesn't want to waken me. I smile again to myself, while still playing the Sleeping Boy role. Well, who knows, maybe with the passing of the time, I will be able to make her feel at ease even if doing all this to me without me playing this comedy, but if that won't happen... Oh boys!... I think the true workaholic I am will become the biggest sleepyhead who can exist.
And then, why should she change? Why should I want she to change? To become a woman different from the woman she is?
The woman I want is she.
We will change, in time, it's inevitable. It's impossible that we can stay together without changing, without absorbing something from each other, at least a tiny bit. The moment will arrive that in our private my T'Pol won't have need that I am sleeping to treat me with the devotion she has in her heart, the moment that she will feel free to love me without restraints, and only God knows how she will be capable of changing me; she has already started to do it. But that doesn't mean anything. The woman I want, I'm in love with, is the woman who at this moment is behaving in the way which is own hers.
And - I smile to myself once more - this way is damn nice!
With effort and still blissfully, I manage to remain motionless, savouring in my fake sleep the effusions she gives me, her brushing herself against me, her... her cuddles, her fondles, all the affection and the tenderness for me that my pretended sleeping gives her the courage to exhibit.
Damn! I could stay so for days and days! Her warmth. Her skin. Her hands. Her arms. Her legs. The touch of her face, of her lips, the...
What's that?
What's wrong?
Why does she seem to stiffen? And why, this harsh breath from her?
Something happened, something...wrong. Not good.
I make as if I have to move, revealing that I am awake, but... I can't. It's like if there is something saying to me that it is better that I carry on remaining quiet.
There is... I don't know... an aura... something...
What's that?
I feel like she is trying not to fidget. She seems to me as if she is... fighting.
A battle of her mind.
But how is it possible? How can I... ?
She keeps on clinging to me. Even more, if possible. But... but it's different, there's... there's something...
FEAR!
Again!
I feel it. Did I change so much, already? Is it possible that I can feel her... her feelings? So plainly? So clearly? But... but what's strange? Since our first night something like this happened. It was indistinct, vague, but it there was. It was the real start of our love. Such things happen when there is love. And now this love has gained awareness, consciousness... It's obvious, logical, that I am able to feel her...
Her fear!
But why? She was quiet, she was... was happy! I know. I felt it! Why now, suddenly, she...? Why?
Why? I know why. Fear of the future. Fear of the past. My T'Pol did what she couldn't ever have thought she would do. She. A Vulcan female. With me! With the worst Human man of the worst Human men!
And... she fell in love with this man. She knows that. How... how couldn't she feel fear? What means does she have in order to face that? Indeed, because... because, apart her shame, her obvious, logical shame, for having donated herself to a man not of her race, and Human, in addition - I can understand that; apart all that, our future is uncertain. It's obscure. Let alone the Xindi, but when and if we will be out from this damn mission, what will she... will we do? If we want to stay together, where will we go? On Earth? And what sort of welcome could we have? Acceptation? Benevolence? In the best of hypothesis we will be ostracized, if not... if not hated.
A Vulcan woman, a member of such a bumptious race, all but liked by Humans, life-mate of a Human man. Vulcan... Vulcan whore could be an appellative to which she might be forced to become inured, if I know a little bit my civil countrymen.
And me? What kind of behaviour toward me should I have to expect from my sympathetic and open-minded fellow-citizens? Not to mention Starfleet.
["Commander Tucker!"
"Yes, Admiral?"
"Are you become crazy, by chance?"
"No, Admiral."
"You did."
"Admiral..."
"Starfleet cannot tolerate such a liaison."
"Admiral..."
"Let alone the broken rules, but you and a Vulcan female!"
"What have you against the Vulcan females?"
"Commander..."
"Against this Vulcan female, in particular?"
"Commander!"
"Admiral, are you ready to have a broken nose?"]
Eh, I know myself. This sort of conversation is not too distant from what could happen. Sooner or later I would become flesh for Court Martial. And so? But what the hell can matter to me of Starfleet? And of Earth? I have you, my treasure, you!
Vulcan. Yes. Vulcan. Your homeland. You know I will follow you on your world, to live with you, giving up my friends, my job, my family, my home for you! There are things against which any life project one can have done is fated to fade away, as moonlight when it comes sunlight. And my sunlight is you, T'Pol. You know that. I am sure.
Yes. Vulcan. Her own homeworld, my new homeworld. It won't be easy, but I am tough. And then, with her help...
Her help. Yeah. Sure. But... but will she be yet well accepted on her world, after the challenge she threw to the High Command? Couldn't she be regarded almost... almost as a rebel? And a rebel who dared tie herself to a Human man, and dared to bring him - me - on her homeland as her life mate.
No. Impossible. We couldn't live there. Oh well. Doesn't matter. Space is filled with lots of beautiful worlds; there must be one of them, where we can live our life and our love.
Another harsh breath from her. And a quiver. She... trembles, slightly. I... I don't know. It is like if she were reacting to my thoughts Or...or...oh damn!... or is it possible that she is having the same thoughts? Oh well, that could be not too much unreal. After all, this one is the first moment of quiet we can taste, and... and it obvious... logical... that we are thinking of our future at the same time. Now, after we satiated our passion, after we became... true lovers.
These one are not fantasies; after all I tried to talk with her of us, of our future, the morning after our first night, and I am sure - I know it, now - that she skipped my issue because of this damned fear of her. Sexual exploration eh? Sexual exploration my ass!
But my T'Pol has all the reasons to have fear. Never a Vulcan will show such a demeaning emotion as fear is, and even less she, but... Oh! Oh damn!
DAMN!
Damn, damn, damn! There something else. Yes. There is. If I learned something of her, she won't ever accept that I give up the life I chose before I met her only to stay with her. That would be illogical and this stubborn woman isn't yet ready to understand love's logic, most likely not even to understand that, if she were preventing me from making such a choice, she would do it exactly following this love's logic, which she has started to know only now. The logic of her love for me. Just so, because for love, only for that, she could think that I shouldn't abandon all what I have for her, for her love.
Oh damn! Now I am tired of playing this game. Enough now. Stop with this comedy. Now I clench her in my arms, and cover her face with kisses, and caress her, and hold her tightly to me and make her understand that she mustn't have fear, than there is no sacrifice that I couldn't do to stay with her... NO! Wrong! ...That the true sacrifice would be that I had to forgo her.
She must understand that my life is she, and only with her I can be alive, and happy. Blissful.
Fulfilled. Realized.
She must understand that there cannot be fear that she is not able to make me happy, as for me in regard to her, because love doesn't give a damn of diversities, it lives of and for itself; and that it's stupid, illogical that you seek certainties in the love, because love is uncertain by itself, and only if you accept to live it you can achieve its certainty.
I open my eyes. Now I will...
Wait!
She seems becoming calmer.
I feel that she clings to me even more. She sinks my nose in my skin, intertwines her legs more strongly with mine.
I close my eyes and remain still motionless. I keep breathing like if I were still sleeping.
What happened now?
She... she took a decision.
But... I don't know... There something, again. I don't... I don't want to know how I can be able to feel this, but... but there is a halo... an aura...
Contentment. And... sadness. Endless sadness. And still fear.
What did you decide to do, my incognizable mistress?
What have you in store for me?
A flash in my mind; I remember my clear sensation when she practically told me that I was a mere lab rat for her sexual explorations about Humans. This sensation... I feel it also now, and it's strong, powerful. There is a secret, inside her, a secret she feels terribly ashamed of, and this one, the fear to reveal it to me.... this, and all the remainder...
She rubs herself against me, in a way... in a way which is nearly heartbreaking. That's the word. Heartbreaking.
Why? Why this rubbing, which just a little while ago was full of joy, is it full of sadness, of melancholy, now? And why trough this blueness, this sense of... of... I don't know... of exhaustion, of unavoidability, shines this strange gladness?
And why can I feel clearly all that? Is there something in Vulcan love or in whichever way Vulcans call that, able to take the lovers to mix their emotions, their feelings? But in this case, shouldn't I have even more certainty that she really loves me? Sure, because, supposing that I am not seeing big lions when there are only small cats, it would be unconceivable that such a thing can happen without some strong, damned strong love's feeling from my T'Pol toward me. It would be... would be illogical. Such a logical race couldn't be so illogical in love's things. Or in whichever way Vulcans call love's things.
And she? Is she aware of that? Is she aware that I am feeling her inner turmoils? That, more or less plainly, she is transmitting to me her... her sad contentment?
I don't know, I don't know. Maybe I am mad, or maybe not, and, on the other hand, only a mad man can get enmired into such a love's situation. But these feelings, these emotions are clear, and persistent, and... and...
I manage to maintain my lying and sleeping-like attitude and to avoid to fidget in my turn. I want no longer to reveal to my T'Pol my comedy. She wouldn't understand now, and it's me the one who is in need to understand, now.
And I understand.
I frown, mentally, inside me. Yes, she made her decision. She will give me some love yet, and then will leave me.
I cannot not take a deep breath.
She can't do without me and she will love me again, but she will try to fight against that, in a stupid war of which she will - and she want to - lose many battles, and which she will attempt desperately to win. Against me. Against herself.
I incline my head as inadvertently, as if I were moving in my sleep, so as to feel on my chin the soft hair of her head resting on my shoulder. I inhale her unique fragrance.
How do I do? How can I make you understand, my love? How can I make you comprehend that you can totally rely on me? That I won't ever ask you anything but your love?
In my mind they appear, clearly, images of my future life. She will search for me, and she will withdraw herself right after. Then she will seek me again, and straight after she will shift into reverse once more. And so on, over and over again.
I make a bitter-sweet smile to myself. How many times, T'Pol, will you be capable of pushing me to feel the wish to strangle you, as I desired to do the morning after our first night, when you stupidly and illogically denied what was impossible to deny? And how many times will you be able to melt my soul, with the warmth of your disruptive and not abdicable love?
How many times, my destroying love? I breathe, harsh and hard, uncaring of the fact that I am pretending to be asleep. Something is rising inside me. A sort of rage, of incoercible and indefectible determination.
You won't win this war, my damn love! I will be always there, I will be the love thorn in your heart that you won't ever be able to extract. I will be adamant, tough, not defeasible. You will think to have defeated me, and I will be there. You will think to have chased me away, and I will be there. You will think to have managed to erase your thoughts about me, and I will be there. You will think to have managed to forget me, and I will be there.
The anger mounts, inside me. No! You won't win this war! You will be able to win some battles, or to lose them, if you prefer, but the final victory will be mine! I will win, and you will be happy of my triumph! The time will arrive.... the time will arrive that I will feel free to say to you that I am in love with you without you being afraid of my words and of your response.
And you will happily respond to me that you love me!
I turn slightly on my side, still like if I were doing this in my sleep. I reinforce the grip of my arm around her. I don't know if all these feelings, these emotions that I seem to receive from her, are true or are figments of my imagination, strained to the limit by the hardness of my own fear to lose her, but if they are true, if her Vulcaness has somehow something to do with this, maybe my Humaneness can be able to reassure her, to smooth her fear, her troubles, to transmit to her a little of certainty, of confidence.
I increase my grasp.
That's the Human way, the reassurance of the touch, the confidence coming from the physical nearness, and if you love me, my Darlin', even only the half of how I love you, you must understand and relish and love all that, my Humaneness, as I love and relish and understand your Vulcaness, and you should receive from it comfort and assurance. And strength.
And my T'Pol rubs her face against my skin, and seems to sigh, lightly, and snuggles up to me, and a sensation of contentment mixed with some kind of calm seem to irradiate from her.
Are you so because you perceived my determination, my assurance, my Hon, and you are relying on it? Or are you merely relishing my closeness and you are calmer because you have took your stupid decision and this has brought to you the quietness that whichever decision takes with itself, regardless of whichever decision it is? I don't know it, and probably both things are true, but if you took your decision I took mine, and if you are determined I am more than you. In the battle of your and my cussedness, mine will be more pig-headed than yours, and this futile war will have only one conqueror: our love.
My wrath decreases. A soft sweetness, a mild awareness, take its place.
One more time I smile to myself. Eh, sure, my balky, capricious and recalcitrant love. Do you remember what you said to me? That I am intransigent, unwilling to compromise? Well, Baby, you not even know how much you were right. I will demonstrate it to you at full measure and, furthermore, I will make you aware of something else about me, something the Doctor wasn't able to warn you about, something which has led my whole life, as your logic has done with yours: I never recede until I don't achieve my goal, and this doesn't pertain only engines.
I settle down myself more comfortably on the bed, as one does who tries to be more at ease in his sleep. I feel upon me the soft weight of my T'Pol. She breathes placidly again, she had to surrender again to the sleep and this one starts to seize again also me. My comedy is about to turn into reality.
My mind flits yet a little bit, strangely quiet even in the awareness of the fight which expects me. But there is another awareness now, inside me, a certainty, which takes solidity and consistence from the woman who has again fallen asleep in my arms, from her mere presence, from the irrefutable objectivity of her body near mine, of her mind, of her soul near mine; from the simple fact that she is sleeping - serenely - in my hug.
I am getting to fall asleep in my turn. One last thought accompanies my surrender.
Sleep well, my love. Don't be afraid, take reliance on me. One day, be sure, I will be able to make you untroubled of showing me your soul.
I will be able to make you aware of the splendour of your depths.
I awakened at her awakening.
But I didn't open my eyes, I didn't let her become aware that I was awake. I kept lying, quiet, breathing slowly and deeply, like if I were sleeping, eyes closed, without moving, without letting her go away from my embrace. I wanted to savour her closeness without her noticing my awakening. I wanted to know what she would do, in the warmth of my hug, thinking I was asleep, that I wasn't able to hear and feel her. I wanted to know if she would disentangle her legs from mine, or if she would go on relish our intimacy, with that liberty that a lover can taste when is free to show his feelings without the unconscious constraint of his object of love.
An ancient love game that I want to play with my Vulcan love.
And then, I didn't be able to see her, to feel her, the first night, after our first lovemaking; it has been missing to me the sweet sensation to relish the awakening of your woman in your arms and I want to prolong this delight as long as I am able to do it. I want to savour fully and deeply all that, as I was able to savour our falling asleep in the arms of each other, and I want do that, observing covertly what it will do the woman who is lying in my arms, this woman so different from any Human woman and most likely from any else Vulcan woman. This woman whom I really discovered only now, if truly I was able to do it, if truly it's possible that I am able to do it.
This marvellous woman who discovered love... with me.
I feel her move, slowly, lightly, carefully, like caring of not disturbing me.
She doesn't extricate her legs, and neither she attempts to untie herself from my embrace. She goes on keeping her head resting in the hollow of my shoulder. She seems to me to position her head more closely, pressing her face against my flesh. I feel her breath on my skin.
I don't know how, but I am sure she has raised her eyes and is looking at my visage. I feel it perfectly. I use the greatest attention to not betray that I am awake.
I feel she adheres to me, on purpose and advisedly. It's hard not to reveal that I am awake, not to hold her tightly to me even more, but it's too beautiful this play I am doing, it's too sweet this naughty game, this clandestinely spying on her while she is unaware that I am aware of her deeds. And it's melting to feel that she is clearly and freely putting in show her affection for me, her delight to feel herself free to savour our closeness and our intimacy, without the Vulcan inhibitions of her being able to exert their constraints over her.
The night, the silence, the atmosphere, the belief she has that I can't be able to sense what she is doing, are able to make her feel free to act in this way.
Oh yes, all this is indeed melting; it's wondrous to bask in her show of lovingness. There's in the tenderness that a woman in love is capable of display to her love, which is even more enchanting, somehow, than her getting lost in the love passion, and I don't feel at all guilty if, to have such delightful endearments from my Vulcan love, I must deceive her. It's an innocent wile. I don't know how, or maybe I prefer not to go much deeply in this matter, but I have the clear cognition that it would be very difficult for her to manifest such sort of soft and tender effusivenesses openly and frankly to me. Love passion is one thing, but the love effusions are something else, and this new and strange knowledge I feel of my T'Pol tells me that she is happy to show her affection and her joy, but that she wouldn't do it if I weren't giving her the way, with the unconsciousness of my sleep. And somehow I feel that she is glad that I am - namely...I seem to be - yet asleep, so that she can do what she's doing.
Damn! Love has been always tough with me! I searched always for the most difficult roads, to such an extent that in the end I fell in love with a Vulcan female, and - men! - it is very hard to be in love with a Vulcan female, judging from these first experiences. But... well!... it's really worth! At least... ahem... at least with T'Pol. Oh bah! In any case, it's a matter of fact that I won't ever have any comparison. AND I DON'T WANT TO HAVE IT! What, more or less unconsciously, I sought, I have found. Now my care must be to keep and to maintain it.
Because... because this fruit, this ultimate fruit of my search, is so unripe yet and still so mild! I can't even imagine how good its taste will be, when it will reach its full ripening.
And this is my task, the assignment that will fill my lifetime henceforth. It's me, the one who must care that this fruit can ripen well. I know, I feel clearly that she loves me, but I know too, I feel it plainly, that she has not the right tools. As far as she is smart, and strong, and open-minded, she can't cross the bridge if I don't lead her, holding her by her hand.
How could she do that, ignoring and uncaring of all that her whole life has been? And the restraints, the customs, the beliefs of a race older, much more older than mine, and stern, severe, obdurate, unbending, rightly or wrongly. And then, who am I, to arrogate the right to judge?
These thoughts, these thoughts I have, are... strange. Bizarre. It's like if I became capable of knowing her and what she is, and the reasons because of which she is what she is, in a way... in a way...
My mind goes back to our first night. But what happened, really, in that night?
What happened? Man! It happened that you picked up the most beautiful flower of the universe! That's what happened! And you discovered in that night what you knew was hidden in your depths. That you were in love with this marvellous Vulcan all along, and that, merely, she - and her love - have brought to the light this simple truth. It's obvious, - I smile to myself - logical, my T'Pol would say, than I am changing, that I am able to better know and understand her. Is it not that, which happens between two people in love with each other? A deeper understanding? A greater knowledge? Obvious, logical. And now all that I must do it is using this new understanding, this knowledge, this... this intimacy of thoughts, to help MY woman to go along this difficult road. A road harder for her, I know, than for me, for the childlike and stubbornly defiant Human I am.
I feel and savour the warm closeness of her body against mine. Of her soul around mine. She is holding strictly herself to me; slowly, carefully; she doesn't want to waken me. I smile again to myself, while still playing the Sleeping Boy role. Well, who knows, maybe with the passing of the time, I will be able to make her feel at ease even if doing all this to me without me playing this comedy, but if that won't happen... Oh boys!... I think the true workaholic I am will become the biggest sleepyhead who can exist.
And then, why should she change? Why should I want she to change? To become a woman different from the woman she is?
The woman I want is she.
We will change, in time, it's inevitable. It's impossible that we can stay together without changing, without absorbing something from each other, at least a tiny bit. The moment will arrive that in our private my T'Pol won't have need that I am sleeping to treat me with the devotion she has in her heart, the moment that she will feel free to love me without restraints, and only God knows how she will be capable of changing me; she has already started to do it. But that doesn't mean anything. The woman I want, I'm in love with, is the woman who at this moment is behaving in the way which is own hers.
And - I smile to myself once more - this way is damn nice!
With effort and still blissfully, I manage to remain motionless, savouring in my fake sleep the effusions she gives me, her brushing herself against me, her... her cuddles, her fondles, all the affection and the tenderness for me that my pretended sleeping gives her the courage to exhibit.
Damn! I could stay so for days and days! Her warmth. Her skin. Her hands. Her arms. Her legs. The touch of her face, of her lips, the...
What's that?
What's wrong?
Why does she seem to stiffen? And why, this harsh breath from her?
Something happened, something...wrong. Not good.
I make as if I have to move, revealing that I am awake, but... I can't. It's like if there is something saying to me that it is better that I carry on remaining quiet.
There is... I don't know... an aura... something...
What's that?
I feel like she is trying not to fidget. She seems to me as if she is... fighting.
A battle of her mind.
But how is it possible? How can I... ?
She keeps on clinging to me. Even more, if possible. But... but it's different, there's... there's something...
FEAR!
Again!
I feel it. Did I change so much, already? Is it possible that I can feel her... her feelings? So plainly? So clearly? But... but what's strange? Since our first night something like this happened. It was indistinct, vague, but it there was. It was the real start of our love. Such things happen when there is love. And now this love has gained awareness, consciousness... It's obvious, logical, that I am able to feel her...
Her fear!
But why? She was quiet, she was... was happy! I know. I felt it! Why now, suddenly, she...? Why?
Why? I know why. Fear of the future. Fear of the past. My T'Pol did what she couldn't ever have thought she would do. She. A Vulcan female. With me! With the worst Human man of the worst Human men!
And... she fell in love with this man. She knows that. How... how couldn't she feel fear? What means does she have in order to face that? Indeed, because... because, apart her shame, her obvious, logical shame, for having donated herself to a man not of her race, and Human, in addition - I can understand that; apart all that, our future is uncertain. It's obscure. Let alone the Xindi, but when and if we will be out from this damn mission, what will she... will we do? If we want to stay together, where will we go? On Earth? And what sort of welcome could we have? Acceptation? Benevolence? In the best of hypothesis we will be ostracized, if not... if not hated.
A Vulcan woman, a member of such a bumptious race, all but liked by Humans, life-mate of a Human man. Vulcan... Vulcan whore could be an appellative to which she might be forced to become inured, if I know a little bit my civil countrymen.
And me? What kind of behaviour toward me should I have to expect from my sympathetic and open-minded fellow-citizens? Not to mention Starfleet.
["Commander Tucker!"
"Yes, Admiral?"
"Are you become crazy, by chance?"
"No, Admiral."
"You did."
"Admiral..."
"Starfleet cannot tolerate such a liaison."
"Admiral..."
"Let alone the broken rules, but you and a Vulcan female!"
"What have you against the Vulcan females?"
"Commander..."
"Against this Vulcan female, in particular?"
"Commander!"
"Admiral, are you ready to have a broken nose?"]
Eh, I know myself. This sort of conversation is not too distant from what could happen. Sooner or later I would become flesh for Court Martial. And so? But what the hell can matter to me of Starfleet? And of Earth? I have you, my treasure, you!
Vulcan. Yes. Vulcan. Your homeland. You know I will follow you on your world, to live with you, giving up my friends, my job, my family, my home for you! There are things against which any life project one can have done is fated to fade away, as moonlight when it comes sunlight. And my sunlight is you, T'Pol. You know that. I am sure.
Yes. Vulcan. Her own homeworld, my new homeworld. It won't be easy, but I am tough. And then, with her help...
Her help. Yeah. Sure. But... but will she be yet well accepted on her world, after the challenge she threw to the High Command? Couldn't she be regarded almost... almost as a rebel? And a rebel who dared tie herself to a Human man, and dared to bring him - me - on her homeland as her life mate.
No. Impossible. We couldn't live there. Oh well. Doesn't matter. Space is filled with lots of beautiful worlds; there must be one of them, where we can live our life and our love.
Another harsh breath from her. And a quiver. She... trembles, slightly. I... I don't know. It is like if she were reacting to my thoughts Or...or...oh damn!... or is it possible that she is having the same thoughts? Oh well, that could be not too much unreal. After all, this one is the first moment of quiet we can taste, and... and it obvious... logical... that we are thinking of our future at the same time. Now, after we satiated our passion, after we became... true lovers.
These one are not fantasies; after all I tried to talk with her of us, of our future, the morning after our first night, and I am sure - I know it, now - that she skipped my issue because of this damned fear of her. Sexual exploration eh? Sexual exploration my ass!
But my T'Pol has all the reasons to have fear. Never a Vulcan will show such a demeaning emotion as fear is, and even less she, but... Oh! Oh damn!
DAMN!
Damn, damn, damn! There something else. Yes. There is. If I learned something of her, she won't ever accept that I give up the life I chose before I met her only to stay with her. That would be illogical and this stubborn woman isn't yet ready to understand love's logic, most likely not even to understand that, if she were preventing me from making such a choice, she would do it exactly following this love's logic, which she has started to know only now. The logic of her love for me. Just so, because for love, only for that, she could think that I shouldn't abandon all what I have for her, for her love.
Oh damn! Now I am tired of playing this game. Enough now. Stop with this comedy. Now I clench her in my arms, and cover her face with kisses, and caress her, and hold her tightly to me and make her understand that she mustn't have fear, than there is no sacrifice that I couldn't do to stay with her... NO! Wrong! ...That the true sacrifice would be that I had to forgo her.
She must understand that my life is she, and only with her I can be alive, and happy. Blissful.
Fulfilled. Realized.
She must understand that there cannot be fear that she is not able to make me happy, as for me in regard to her, because love doesn't give a damn of diversities, it lives of and for itself; and that it's stupid, illogical that you seek certainties in the love, because love is uncertain by itself, and only if you accept to live it you can achieve its certainty.
I open my eyes. Now I will...
Wait!
She seems becoming calmer.
I feel that she clings to me even more. She sinks my nose in my skin, intertwines her legs more strongly with mine.
I close my eyes and remain still motionless. I keep breathing like if I were still sleeping.
What happened now?
She... she took a decision.
But... I don't know... There something, again. I don't... I don't want to know how I can be able to feel this, but... but there is a halo... an aura...
Contentment. And... sadness. Endless sadness. And still fear.
What did you decide to do, my incognizable mistress?
What have you in store for me?
A flash in my mind; I remember my clear sensation when she practically told me that I was a mere lab rat for her sexual explorations about Humans. This sensation... I feel it also now, and it's strong, powerful. There is a secret, inside her, a secret she feels terribly ashamed of, and this one, the fear to reveal it to me.... this, and all the remainder...
She rubs herself against me, in a way... in a way which is nearly heartbreaking. That's the word. Heartbreaking.
Why? Why this rubbing, which just a little while ago was full of joy, is it full of sadness, of melancholy, now? And why trough this blueness, this sense of... of... I don't know... of exhaustion, of unavoidability, shines this strange gladness?
And why can I feel clearly all that? Is there something in Vulcan love or in whichever way Vulcans call that, able to take the lovers to mix their emotions, their feelings? But in this case, shouldn't I have even more certainty that she really loves me? Sure, because, supposing that I am not seeing big lions when there are only small cats, it would be unconceivable that such a thing can happen without some strong, damned strong love's feeling from my T'Pol toward me. It would be... would be illogical. Such a logical race couldn't be so illogical in love's things. Or in whichever way Vulcans call love's things.
And she? Is she aware of that? Is she aware that I am feeling her inner turmoils? That, more or less plainly, she is transmitting to me her... her sad contentment?
I don't know, I don't know. Maybe I am mad, or maybe not, and, on the other hand, only a mad man can get enmired into such a love's situation. But these feelings, these emotions are clear, and persistent, and... and...
I manage to maintain my lying and sleeping-like attitude and to avoid to fidget in my turn. I want no longer to reveal to my T'Pol my comedy. She wouldn't understand now, and it's me the one who is in need to understand, now.
And I understand.
I frown, mentally, inside me. Yes, she made her decision. She will give me some love yet, and then will leave me.
I cannot not take a deep breath.
She can't do without me and she will love me again, but she will try to fight against that, in a stupid war of which she will - and she want to - lose many battles, and which she will attempt desperately to win. Against me. Against herself.
I incline my head as inadvertently, as if I were moving in my sleep, so as to feel on my chin the soft hair of her head resting on my shoulder. I inhale her unique fragrance.
How do I do? How can I make you understand, my love? How can I make you comprehend that you can totally rely on me? That I won't ever ask you anything but your love?
In my mind they appear, clearly, images of my future life. She will search for me, and she will withdraw herself right after. Then she will seek me again, and straight after she will shift into reverse once more. And so on, over and over again.
I make a bitter-sweet smile to myself. How many times, T'Pol, will you be capable of pushing me to feel the wish to strangle you, as I desired to do the morning after our first night, when you stupidly and illogically denied what was impossible to deny? And how many times will you be able to melt my soul, with the warmth of your disruptive and not abdicable love?
How many times, my destroying love? I breathe, harsh and hard, uncaring of the fact that I am pretending to be asleep. Something is rising inside me. A sort of rage, of incoercible and indefectible determination.
You won't win this war, my damn love! I will be always there, I will be the love thorn in your heart that you won't ever be able to extract. I will be adamant, tough, not defeasible. You will think to have defeated me, and I will be there. You will think to have chased me away, and I will be there. You will think to have managed to erase your thoughts about me, and I will be there. You will think to have managed to forget me, and I will be there.
The anger mounts, inside me. No! You won't win this war! You will be able to win some battles, or to lose them, if you prefer, but the final victory will be mine! I will win, and you will be happy of my triumph! The time will arrive.... the time will arrive that I will feel free to say to you that I am in love with you without you being afraid of my words and of your response.
And you will happily respond to me that you love me!
I turn slightly on my side, still like if I were doing this in my sleep. I reinforce the grip of my arm around her. I don't know if all these feelings, these emotions that I seem to receive from her, are true or are figments of my imagination, strained to the limit by the hardness of my own fear to lose her, but if they are true, if her Vulcaness has somehow something to do with this, maybe my Humaneness can be able to reassure her, to smooth her fear, her troubles, to transmit to her a little of certainty, of confidence.
I increase my grasp.
That's the Human way, the reassurance of the touch, the confidence coming from the physical nearness, and if you love me, my Darlin', even only the half of how I love you, you must understand and relish and love all that, my Humaneness, as I love and relish and understand your Vulcaness, and you should receive from it comfort and assurance. And strength.
And my T'Pol rubs her face against my skin, and seems to sigh, lightly, and snuggles up to me, and a sensation of contentment mixed with some kind of calm seem to irradiate from her.
Are you so because you perceived my determination, my assurance, my Hon, and you are relying on it? Or are you merely relishing my closeness and you are calmer because you have took your stupid decision and this has brought to you the quietness that whichever decision takes with itself, regardless of whichever decision it is? I don't know it, and probably both things are true, but if you took your decision I took mine, and if you are determined I am more than you. In the battle of your and my cussedness, mine will be more pig-headed than yours, and this futile war will have only one conqueror: our love.
My wrath decreases. A soft sweetness, a mild awareness, take its place.
One more time I smile to myself. Eh, sure, my balky, capricious and recalcitrant love. Do you remember what you said to me? That I am intransigent, unwilling to compromise? Well, Baby, you not even know how much you were right. I will demonstrate it to you at full measure and, furthermore, I will make you aware of something else about me, something the Doctor wasn't able to warn you about, something which has led my whole life, as your logic has done with yours: I never recede until I don't achieve my goal, and this doesn't pertain only engines.
I settle down myself more comfortably on the bed, as one does who tries to be more at ease in his sleep. I feel upon me the soft weight of my T'Pol. She breathes placidly again, she had to surrender again to the sleep and this one starts to seize again also me. My comedy is about to turn into reality.
My mind flits yet a little bit, strangely quiet even in the awareness of the fight which expects me. But there is another awareness now, inside me, a certainty, which takes solidity and consistence from the woman who has again fallen asleep in my arms, from her mere presence, from the irrefutable objectivity of her body near mine, of her mind, of her soul near mine; from the simple fact that she is sleeping - serenely - in my hug.
I am getting to fall asleep in my turn. One last thought accompanies my surrender.
Sleep well, my love. Don't be afraid, take reliance on me. One day, be sure, I will be able to make you untroubled of showing me your soul.
I will be able to make you aware of the splendour of your depths.
********************************
Yes, that's the end, but, as I have repeatedly said, the end of this story is inevitably the start on another one, I mean of an ulterior memory of my ancestor that I have rewritten in order to show you, clearly and in truth, what the Canon is exactly, what was concealed to us, what was unsaid on the television show, what not even those writers who wanted to show the world the incorrectness of the death of Trip could know.
But, in this case, many things require a bit of explanations: for example, what happened after the second night, before the episode named "Home"? And... yes... and Trip? Was he, by chance, more "cognizant", T'Pol being unable even to suspect, about her little secret, just for saying one little thing?
Mh... Questions, questions.
Would you like to know their answers?
Yes? Well, in this case please follow me, follow what your Honest Liar has yet in store.
So you will able to know how Trip succeeded in making T'Pol aware of the splendour of her depths.
Because he managed to do it.
I assure you.
Watch below, my friends, look at this picture. It comes directly from the archives of my ancestor (He was not bad in this sort of things, after all, don't you believe?). Perhaps it is invented, maybe not. In any case, it reveals the truth.
The second night of our sweethearts is ending, at least as far - how to say? - the ardour.
And the war begins, their war of love.
And, if into the eyes of T'Pol it is possible to see, among many other things, the wonder and fear and uncertainty, as well as in her pose her relying on Trip, or, to say better, her desire to rely on him, into the eyes of Trip you can capture the determination.
But, in this case, many things require a bit of explanations: for example, what happened after the second night, before the episode named "Home"? And... yes... and Trip? Was he, by chance, more "cognizant", T'Pol being unable even to suspect, about her little secret, just for saying one little thing?
Mh... Questions, questions.
Would you like to know their answers?
Yes? Well, in this case please follow me, follow what your Honest Liar has yet in store.
So you will able to know how Trip succeeded in making T'Pol aware of the splendour of her depths.
Because he managed to do it.
I assure you.
Watch below, my friends, look at this picture. It comes directly from the archives of my ancestor (He was not bad in this sort of things, after all, don't you believe?). Perhaps it is invented, maybe not. In any case, it reveals the truth.
The second night of our sweethearts is ending, at least as far - how to say? - the ardour.
And the war begins, their war of love.
And, if into the eyes of T'Pol it is possible to see, among many other things, the wonder and fear and uncertainty, as well as in her pose her relying on Trip, or, to say better, her desire to rely on him, into the eyes of Trip you can capture the determination.
Yes, he will be able to make his T'Pol aware of the splendour of her depths.
And their future starts here!
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COPYRIGHT 2013 © Asso - [email protected]
COPYRIGHT 2013 © Asso - [email protected]