Oh then. Let's see a little. I promised in the previous chapter that in the present chapter I would finally brought to light this blessed Shore Leave.
Okay, my friends, do you think this introductory picture (another amazing photography, I can assure you, found in the archives of my unspeakable ancestor) is sufficient to reassure you?
Okay, my friends, do you think this introductory picture (another amazing photography, I can assure you, found in the archives of my unspeakable ancestor) is sufficient to reassure you?
Well, I think so.
So, if you agree, let's go to dive (Eh, eh... to dive) in...
However, before we proceed, allow me some small notations.
This chapter is very dense, believe me, because the wealth of detail lavished by my ineffable ancestor in the document he left me is really crazy.
But, on the other hand, it is understandable. You see, things happen really special here.
Here (as the title says) we see what happens when Vulcans decide to come out into the open; what happened when a certain Vulcan female decided that the time had come for her to come out into the open.
Believe me, Vulcans manage to be really shocking, when they want.
Maybe they do not say things with the clarity that Humans would like to ... But, by golly! How much they can be equally clear, if they want it!
And how much they can make damn complicated life for their friends!
There's enough to make you curious, is not it, my friends?
But things don't end there. No. Not at all.
Look carefully at those eyes: her eyes.
Well, they're really beautiful, no doubt about it. Trip had every reason to say that his T'Pol was the most beautiful woman who can exist.
But to think of it, don't they seem even a little... threatening?
You know, guys, when a Vulcan, when a certain Vulcan female, decides, as you shall see, to come out into the open, she does so without restrictions, she puts all of herself.
So, beware of her, just in case ... I mean, have you any idea how dangerously possessive the Vulcan women can be as for their men? No?
Well, then go reading below, my friends, go reading.
This chapter is very dense, believe me, because the wealth of detail lavished by my ineffable ancestor in the document he left me is really crazy.
But, on the other hand, it is understandable. You see, things happen really special here.
Here (as the title says) we see what happens when Vulcans decide to come out into the open; what happened when a certain Vulcan female decided that the time had come for her to come out into the open.
Believe me, Vulcans manage to be really shocking, when they want.
Maybe they do not say things with the clarity that Humans would like to ... But, by golly! How much they can be equally clear, if they want it!
And how much they can make damn complicated life for their friends!
There's enough to make you curious, is not it, my friends?
But things don't end there. No. Not at all.
Look carefully at those eyes: her eyes.
Well, they're really beautiful, no doubt about it. Trip had every reason to say that his T'Pol was the most beautiful woman who can exist.
But to think of it, don't they seem even a little... threatening?
You know, guys, when a Vulcan, when a certain Vulcan female, decides, as you shall see, to come out into the open, she does so without restrictions, she puts all of herself.
So, beware of her, just in case ... I mean, have you any idea how dangerously possessive the Vulcan women can be as for their men? No?
Well, then go reading below, my friends, go reading.
Shore Leave
The Whys and Wherefores
Chapter Two
When Vulcans Come Out Into The Open
The Whys and Wherefores
Chapter Two
When Vulcans Come Out Into The Open
****
Time has passed since the early narrated events. Now we are in 2154. Shortly Samuels will do his important speech and shortly Destiny will show what Terra Primers have in store. But for now, all is quiet and the Enterprise crew can have a brief shore leave. And what the hell do you think a certain Vulcan female - a certain Vulcan female who finally understands that she has to follow her heart - wants to do during shore leave? It's January, and after the climatic changes which occurred during the last two centuries, it is full summertime in Florida. Panama Beach should be very attractive now, especially if you are in "pleasant" company.
*************************************************************
Starfleet Headquarters, just before the exit, in front of the short tree-lined avenue which leads to the shuttle for the airport.
****
"Bloody hell, I hoped I would never see this atrocious shirt on you again."
"Hey! This is my official vacation outfit, Mal. Maybe it's a bit worn out by now and the colours are slightly washed out, but it is still my preferred shore leave attire." Trip said
"Thank goodness it got a little discoloured. Are you attempting to chase everyone away at the simple sight of your shirt?"
"Ha, ha, ha. Very fun. But I'm not touched, and, in any case, there's someone who will keep company with me... No! What I wanted to say is that there's someone who will keep me company."
"Ah, I see. So, you won't be going to your parents' new house in Mississippi."
"No, I think it's better if I... we don't do that. I want to show my companion the joys and pleasures of Florida."
"Can there really be someone so brave as to show himself together with you while you are wearing that horrible shirt?" Hoshi's voice rose up from behind the two men.
Trip turned around, an annoyed expression on his face. "Ha, ha, ha. Again very funny. But I'm not going to rise to the bait. You two are free to believe or to not believe it, but this someone does exist."
"Impossible." The Captain's voice sprang up, teasing and loud. "I can't believe there's a man or a woman who would dare accompany you as you're dressed with this infamous shirt."
Trip rolled his eyes, trying to keep himself calm. He turned toward the Captain. "Jon..."
"Captain, undeniably that shirt is really... peculiar, as all of you are saying, but in my opinion it fits in perfectly with Commander Tucker's colourful personality." The unmistakable voice of T'Pol, quiet and sure, claimed the attention of the three men and Hoshi.
While turning to the source of that voice, the Captain was once more surprised by the fact that it sounded like his Vulcan First Officer had made a witticism, something that seemed to be happening more and more often lately.
He began. "Well, T'Pol...". Then he stopped abruptly.
His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Then, while trying to shut his mouth, he turned to look at the faces of Malcolm and Hoshi and saw the same astonished expression he had on his visage.
In the meantime, Trip was displaying a quick sequence of more complex expressions.
Marvel, as first, like the others. And surprise. Right after something... well, maybe it could be called... enjoyment? Pleasure? Astounded happiness? And understanding? And pride? And finally an enormous, almost foolish smile - one which would arouse Phlox's envy.
And if Archer, Malcolm and Hoshi were capable of looking at T'Pol just at that moment, instead of watching each other with dazed faces, they could have seen that the corners of T'Pol's lips were bending up with an unequivocal even if almost imperceptibly tiny smile. Clearly she recognized that Trip had understood and that she had achieved her purpose.
The Captain tried to speak, his eyes wide open and locked with T'Pol's immovable face. "T... T... T'P... T'P..."
The Vulcan woman took off her sunglasses, holding them with her right hand. She blinked in a way which seemed to show some sort of mocking concern. "Captain, is everything all right? You are pale and I have never heard you stammer. Do you need the Doctor, by chance?"
"Yes!... Uh no...! Y...yes... No!"
"Captain?"
"T'Pol..."
"Captain?"
"You are... you are..."
The Captain's look went practically of its own volition to the brightly coloured travel bag T'Pol was holding with her left hand, the exact duplicate of that which was in Trip's right hand.
The Vulcan woman's eyelids blinked again. "Oh, I understand. Yes, Captain. I'm Commander Tucker's companion during his... our shore leave. I thought it would be agreeable to accept his invitation to discover Florida's beauties by means of his direct knowledge of the country."
"R... right. So you... so you... a... are wearing..."
T'Pol lowered her dark eyes to look at the clothes she was wearing. Her expression appeared to be very feminine.
"Well, Captain. I thought it would definitely be appropriate to be dressed in Florida summer fashion, considering the occasion. After all, when Tr... Commander Tucker came to Vulcan, he didn't hesitate to wear Vulcan clothes so as to honour me and my world. I think I should return this honour. Not to mention that it would probably be better if I did not shamelessly show my ancestry while I'm sharing the company of a Human. You know, there are people among your race who don't like Vulcans and maybe my attire could be of some help in order to let me go unnoticed."
"Un... noticed?"
In a daze, the Captain's look went spontaneously to the curvaceous hips and shapely legs that the low-rise, flame-red-coloured shorts T'Pol had put on were showing in all their beauty. He lingered on her bare feet with their... their fire-red, wedge-heeled and ankle-strapped sandals, and finally to her toenails which were... were covered with a ruby-red nail polish. Just so!
A pink elephant! Without doubt! A little too much whiskey, yes! Earlier in the evening, after all of them had taken their assigned accommodations as Starfleet members. Alone, in his room, while relaxing, finally. Savouring a water polo match, with a good bottle of excellent liqueur. Too much, evidently. Yes, too much whiskey and now he was seeing a pink elephant. Sure, no other explanation was able to be found for his... for his vision.
But the expression he recognized on Malcolm and Hoshi's faces, while the blissful and silly smile of Trip was beaming more and more, was a plain demonstration that he wasn't hallucinating, even if logic, as T'Pol would say, was suggesting the exact opposite.
His look, like the look of the others, dwelt on the blue marine coloured and close-fitting tank top the Vulcan was wearing, so short that her belly button was well-exposed above the shorts' waistline and which allowed T'Pol's polished and nude arms to display themselves in all their grace. His eyes loitered on the tank top's deep neckline, under which her very impressive bosom was inflating the light garment, exactly where a yellow coloured word, Bellavista, was printed, drawing inevitably all the looks.
Then his eyes focused on the cute wide-brimmed hat which she wore on her head. Her dark hair stuck out beneath it, hiding her pointed ears. The brim shaded her lovely visage, giving her a sort of saucy and enthralling appearance.
The Captain finally stared at T'Pol's face, where an uncharacteristic expression was peeping out, a sort of mix between her usual deadpan appearance and what seemed some kind of pert amusement.
"Unnoticed, T'Pol?" the Captain repeated with an uncertain voice.
The Vulcan put the sunglasses on again. "Do you think, Captain, these glasses and this hat will allow me to go unnoticed?"
"Uh... uh... of course, they are useful to veil your Vulcan nature, but about your going... unnoticed..."
"I suppose you want to say that my attire doesn't work. Actually, Captain, I have to admit that probably you are right. In fact, even if I don't understand the precise reason, many people looked at me with evident attention while I was coming here to meet Commander Tucker. I don't know, probably there is something strange or wrong with my attire. Maybe I misinterpreted Ensign Sato's suggestions and the clothes I bought on-line following her teachings are not those which a Human woman would put on, according to the latest Terran fashion for a summer holiday at the sea."
"Ahem..." The Ensign, so brusquely and patently called to the matter, cleared her throat. "Not at all, Commander, not at all. But I didn't imagine what you wanted to do when you asked me for that information. I merely supposed it was some sort of curiosity on your part, considering that you wished to be informed about a lot of other things. In... incidentally, maybe it would have been a good thing if you'd asked me what Bellavista means in the Italian language. In any case, believe me, you look absolutely Florida-holiday-girl-like. Only... well! Frankly, it's difficult to think you can go unnoticed, dressed in this way. E... especially for men."
At the precise moment Hoshi was saying these words, a strong noise, followed by the sound of cursing Human voices, attracted the attention of the four Enterprise officers. When they turned their heads toward the noise's source to see what was happening, they were saw two young men, dressed in Starfleet uniforms fall on the ground. After that they unequivocally crashed into each other, and while they were trying to stand up and exchanging many embarrassed excuses, their eyes were still fixed on what most likely had been the cause of their inattention.
T'Pol.
"I think..." Malcolm began to say, without averting his eyes from the scene.
"... Hoshi..." the Captain went on, his look still fixed on the two young men.
"... is right." Trip concluded, observing the two with a patent expression of amusement on his face and a pleasant feeling of pride inside.
"Why?" The Vulcan's question seemed sincere, but there was a hint of amusement in her voice.
Malcolm decided the time had come to intervene, and so he did, sternly and precisely, looking purposely at the Vulcan woman. "Your attire is perfect, Commander, but as for you going unnoticed, no doubt that is impossible."
"But why?" T'Pol repeated. The amused teasing in her voice was a little more evident.
Finally, Trip thought it would be better to cut it short. He watched the beautiful and unrecognizable Vulcan woman with a funny and odd look. "I will explain it to you in private, and maybe, still in private..." An impish smirk crossed his face while he was saying that. "... you will want to explain to me why you put on that nail varnish and why you didn't tell Hoshi anything about your intentions. Anyway, don't worry. Unnoticed or not, nobody will suspect your Vulcan nature. So, are you ready, Dar...T'Pol?"
The Vulcan neither replied to Trip's remarks nor insisted on an answer to her question. But something, a hint of a small roguish smile, an air of smugness and complicity did spread across her visage, while she simply limited herself to saying "I am."
"All right. So, we can go." Trip pointed at T'Pol's travel bag. "Give me that."
"Why?"
"Oh damn! Again? Aren't you capable of satisfying any request without bringing up some problems? I only want to carry your travel bag. Southern chivalry, Milady, only that."
"I don't think it's appropriate for Enterprise's First Officer to be waited on by you and your southern chivalry, Commander Tucker."
"Hey, Miss Vulcan-I-know-everything, are we on shore leave or we are not? No First Officer and no Chief Engineer at present, okay? No Commander, okay? And, if you want to honour me and my world's customs, as you said, give me that damned travel bag."
Probably no Human and not even one Vulcan would believe that Trip was calling T'Pol with that appellative in public. And less and less that T'Pol wasn't batting an eyelash in hearing Trip's disrespectful expression. But it was just so, as Archer, Reed and Sato could attest.
"Very well, Comm... Tr... But I don't understand why you say you want to relieve me of supporting its weight. Definitely it hasn't been made particularly heavy because of the diving mask, or the flippers, or the diving suit or the swimsuits, or..."
"Diving mask?" Malcolm began, interrupting T'Pol, his eyes suddenly wide open.
"Flippers?" the Captain went on, incredulously.
"Diving suit?" Hoshi added, almost unable to close her mouth.
"Swimsuits?" The three exclaimed in unison, their faces astonished.
With a very blackguardly grin, Trip turned towards Hoshi and the two men and, while holding his own bag on his right shoulder, he took T'Pol's travel bag with his right hand. At the same time, the Vulcan placed herself on his left side.
"Well, comrades, do you think it's possible to show T'Pol Florida's beauties without introducing her to the sweet touch of the Florida's waters?"
"I always believed that ..." a disbelieving Malcolm began.
"...V...V...Vulcans don't..." a babbling Hoshi carried on.
"... appreciate swimming." a befuddled Archer finished.
"That's true, Captain." said the Vulcan with a stern expression. "But I thought it was discourteous for me to accept Commander Tucker's invitation to discover Florida's beauties with him, without allowing him to show me Florida's waters, as he said. And then, I'm persuaded that it's totally illogical for an adult Vulcan woman to be incapable of swimming simply because Vulcans never felt the necessity to learn this type of activity since it is impracticable on my world. But this knowledge would be very useful, during some away missions. This is for me a rare opportunity."
"But T'Pol," the Captain said, almost with unwillingness "ocean waters can be very dangerous and... Well! They can be very scary for anyone who is not used to swimming. And you have never swum."
He was sure that, behind those sunglasses, T'Pol's eyes were flashing with fierce disapproval because of his words. He was telling her that she would feel fear.
And then something unexpected happened, if something else unexpected was able to happen, after all that had already occurred.
The Vulcan spoke with a quiet voice. "Captain, all of you know me well enough by now to know that Vulcans can experience fear... that they cannot always succeed in controlling it. So it is possible... probably inevitable... that I could experience fear when I will dive into the sea, attempting to overcome my ancestral diffidence for open waters. But..."
The Vulcan abruptly stopped speaking, as if searching for the right words.
Finally, she shook her head and said, "Oh well! After all, we are on shore leave!"
And after having exclaimed this sentence, she turned her face toward Trip and finished what she had been about to say. And the captain, like the others, was sure that there was in T'Pol's tone something they never would have thought they would hear in her voice.
Just a little more than a simple hint, but it was perfectly discernible.
Sweetness.
And together with it... yes... together with it... faith.
"I have no doubt that Trip will manage to help me enjoy the sea without any fear."
With that she said, and just to demonstrate that wonders never end, she took Trip's left hand with her right and squeezed it. Then, still holding Trip's hand in hers, she turned her tranquil face to the Captain, Hoshi and Malcolm, who were standing speechless, in front of the scene.
There was a long bated moment, until Trip finally cleared his throat and spoke, attempting to break the odd atmosphere with one of his usual wisecracks. "There's nothing better than a relaxing shore leave for taking some kind of agreeable liberties, right?"
T'Pol squeezed his hand again. "Right."
"Oh... oh... ahem... well! It's late. We better go. Greetings, Jon... Hoshi... Malcolm. T'Pol and I will see you on the day of Mister Samuels' speech. Take care and try to have a great time during your shore leave." He smirked. "T'Pol and I surely won't have any problem with that."
If someone believed that Trip's growing smirk was attributable to the quick, sidelong glance T'Pol cast at him because of his words, this someone wouldn't be judged wrong. In fact, that was what the Captain, Hoshi and Malcolm thought in unison, while hearing the last flippant and plainly allusive sentence of Trip. But, in reality, that wasn't the true reason. The fact was that Trip sensed the intensifying of T'Pol's grip on his hand, right after she heard his saucy allusion.
Without acknowledging the minimal sign of what had passed between her and her Bond-Mate, T'Pol followed Trip's example and politely said her good-byes to the three, lowering her head slightly. "Captain, Ensign, Lieutenant, I, too, hope your shore leave will be very pleasant. Please let Doctor Phlox and Mister Mayweather, as well as Engineer Hess, know that Trip and I also wish them a very agreeable shore leave."
Trip! Again! Still hand in hand!
Then she turned to him. "Let's go."
Trip smiled at her blissfully. "Let's go," he repeated and turned around slowly and carefully, allowing T'Pol to turn together with him and to remain to his left side without their hands breaking their hold on each other.
The Captain, Hoshi and Malcolm watched in silence as the couple, still holding hands with each other, walked along the tree-lined avenue to the shuttle, which was waiting at the avenue's end for the passengers who had to be transported to the airport.
The three observed from a distance the way Trip helped T'Pol enter the shuttle, making her go first and gently supporting her by her arm, and the way T'Pol leaned trustingly on Trip's hand, allowing him to lead her.
They watched the shuttle go away.
Finally, Malcolm broke off the silence. "I think..." he began.
"... I always..." Hoshi went on.
"... will remember that." the Captain finished. The marvel he was feeling inside was great enough to overcome his jealousy, which he had first experienced when he realized what was between his Vulcan First Officer and his Chief Engineer that time T'Pol had almost gone(1).
"What do you think?" Hoshi asked, without speaking to anyone in particular, almost like she was trying to make things a little more normal. "Will she be cold, dressed in that way? After all, she is Vulcan, and her world is hotter than our. Even if the weather is very warm for the present season and if they are going to reach the sunny beaches of Florida, maybe she will feel slightly uncomfortable."
A pensive Lieutenant Reed replied, almost as if talking to himself. "I don't think so."
And the Captain, looking purposely at his two colleagues, nodded with firm belief. "Neither do I."
He began to unravel the thread of his thoughts.
After that night (1), during which he had become fully aware of the love story between the Vulcan woman and Trip, their relationship had seemed to go wrong. Nothing had happened, nothing had leaked out, and, using hindsight, Trip, the most sociable and gregarious of men, had become more and more reserved and even sulkier. Yes, just so. And T'Pol had again become distant, like she had been in the beginning of her service on Enterprise.
Evidently, to admit and to accept being in love with a Human man had to be very hard for a Vulcan woman.
But, evidently, their love story was still there, even if difficult. Probably - surely - they were struggling with an ocean of misunderstanding and miscommunications. So, at a certain moment, Trip was unable to live with his sorrow and he wanted to leave Enterprise. The Captain had wanted to pretend that he did not understand what had pushed Trip to make this choice, but, in the deep of his soul, he, and not only he, knew.
But Trip had come back to save Enterprise and all its crew. Sure, Trip himself had suggested the dangerous way he should follow to reach Enterprise because he was a caring, generous, brave, and bold man. Sure.
And because on Enterprise there was T'Pol...T'Pol and her love for him.
The Captain became more and more pensive, while all the puzzle pieces were gaining their right place, including T'Pol's strange conduct when she had made that wisecrack after she and Trip had defeated the Orion females.
Yeah, evidently, something had happened between the two.
The Captain mused again about the true Trip that everyone on Enterprise was able to see again after his return. And... about the changes everyone was able to perceive in T'Pol's behaviour. He hadn't wanted to deepen the whys and wherefores, but T'Pol had begun to display a deportment which could be defined as friendly. Still Vulcan, obviously, but in some way, human and friendly.
She had returned to share the Humans' company, and - yes - she now was fully liking this company. She was taking part in the Human conversations and... and the way she was raising her eyebrow when Trip was joking - Yes! He was joking again! - was different. Nothing could be clearly noticed, and nevertheless... and nevertheless there was something new, an understanding, a... a sort of warm complicity on their faces. Some sort of unexpressed and yet evident and sure gladness and pride, on Trip's face. Some sort of unexpressed and yet manifest and quiet gladness and... sweetness on hers.
And what the hell better reason can exist but love to make a woman so? Vulcan or not?
Now the Captain was capable of understanding. Fully.
Evidently, T'Pol had finally accepted her love. The love she and Trip felt for each other
And, evidently, now she was relishing this love to such an extent that the two had decided that time had arrived to bring it to light. At last. Taking advantage of the shore leave.
And, evidently, T'Pol wanted to make everyone aware - and markedly Trip - that it had reached the point of no return, that she and Trip had to be seen and perceived by those who were their friends as a veritable couple. In love.
For that, she had behaved the way she had. So humanely. So unvulcan-like. For that, she wanted to appear so beautiful and desirable. So human and desirable. She had told Trip that she is in love with him and that, for this and for him, she accepted - NO - she wanted to be different from the other Vulcans. Still a Vulcan woman, but his Vulcan woman.
The Captain knew, as the others of Enterprise, that T'Pol was a very maverick Vulcan, open-minded and unconventional, a Vulcan who cared for Humans, who had learned to live among them, who had become an indispensable and trustworthy member of the crew. And he knew that, someway, a lot of human-like sensations and behavioural patterns had penetrated her Vulcan being, because it would have been impossible for her to share the destiny of her comrades, their sufferings, their hopes, without becoming similar to them, at least a tiny bit.
(*A tiny bit? *) the Captain thought. (*All things, except 'a tiny bit!' Today she demonstrated without a doubt that she wants to be Trip's woman, finally and completely, even if she has to cover everything with logic's mantle and even if Trip - if I know my friend - wants her regardless of her Vulcaness or maybe even because of it. She is willing to do all to please him, to be enjoyed by him, for... for surprising him.*)
And now? What the hell should he do? Two of his officers are in love with each other, breaking the rules. Of course, nothing has been told aloud, with unequivocal words, but the facts spoke for themselves. But, honestly... was he really unable to help them? If he didn't act, he would never be capable of looking at himself in the mirror, and the guilt he would feel would be greater, much greater, than the pangs of jealousy he would inevitably sense, seeing them around and in love. The woman he had desired now belongs to Trip.
Perhaps the better road to take would be for him and his comrades to behave as if nothing had happened.
Sure. The eye doesn't see; the heart doesn't hurt. In... in all respects.
And Trip and T'Pol might be together, without clamour.
In fact, only he and Hoshi and Malcolm and most likely Phlox were aware. Maybe Hess, as the Trip's closest co-worker, might suspect something. As for the remaining crew, apart from the fact that they couldn't have a say in the matter, any potential suspicion from them, even real knowledge, would certainly be without consequences because of Trip's popularity and the romanticism of a love born on Enterprise between its Chief Engineer and the - long ago - slightly frightening and cold Vulcan woman, who had become his lover. Their relationship would definitely obtain the tacit and glad consent of everyone. So if anyone who knew for sure would not speak and if Trip and T'Pol would act discreetly...
"Hoshi! Malcolm! Ca... Captain!"
The excited voice of Travis, panting and breathless and dressed in a tracksuit, woke up the Captain from his ruminations and claimed the attention of him and the other two, who were engrossed in their own thoughts.
"Captain! Hoshi! Malcolm! Captain! Cap..."
"Bloody hell, Mister Mayweather! Calm down! You are prattling like a little boy!" said Malcolm.
"Lieutenant Reed is right, Mister Mayweather. Shore leave or no shore leave, you're still an officer in Starfleet. Why the hell are you jabbering like this? Have you seen a ghost, by chance?"
"Excuse me, Captain... a ghost? No... I... excuse me... no, not a ghost! Sorry, Captain. A ghost? Oh, but a ghost would be less stupefying! Excuse me... I..."
"Travis! Enough now! Try to say some intelligible words!"
"Oh yes! Sure! But... I... Excuse me, Captain..."
"TRAVIS!"
The young man took a deep breath then finally found the little bit of calm he needed to let him explain the cause of his excitement.
"Captain, this morning I got up very early because I wanted to take advantage of the shore leave and go jogging in the coolness of the first hours of the day. I was coming back and was resting for some moments in the shade of a tree, where the airport shuttle was waiting for its passengers. When I turned my head, I saw Commander Tucker, dressed in a pair of jeans and with that tremendous shirt he persists in wearing when he goes on liberty. He was reaching the shuttle, holding two travel bags, the one on his right shoulder and the second with his right hand. And he wasn't alone."
"No?" the Captain said.
"No?" Malcolm repeated.
"No? Hoshi added.
"No. He was holding with his left hand the hand of a woman who was walking by his side and who looked... looked... like a pin-up! A cover girl!"
"No!" the Captain exclaimed.
"No!" Malcolm burst out.
"No!" Hoshi amplified.
"Really! And, Captain... Malcolm... Hoshi, you should have seen the pair of legs she was showing under her low rise shorts, the way those legs were made attractively appealing by the wedge-heeled sandals she was wearing, and how her short and light tank top was allowing... Oh! Sorry, sorry, Hoshi! Excuse me!"
"Well, Travis, no need to apologize. Don't you think I'm old enough to know what men think when they are lucky enough to meet a beautiful woman? And sexy, too, if I understood well."
"Sexy? That doesn't begin to describe it!"
"No?" Malcolm said.
"No, Mister Reed. She was... wondrous. Spectacular!"
"Eh..." the Captain sighed. "I always wondered how the hell Trip is capable of attracting so many beautiful women."
"Exactly, Captain, that was my thought when I saw the couple, and..."
"Nevertheless, Travis, just because of this undeniable fact, I don't understand your stupefaction." the Captain interrupted.
"Captain, please, let me finish what I wanted to say."
The Captain, like the others, observed the young man with both worry and amusement. "Ok, Mister Mayweather, excuse me. Please, go on."
"Captain, as I said, I, too, was wondering how the Commander is able to attract so many beautiful women, and I was uncertain if I had to greet him, revealing my presence. Maybe this would have been inopportune. Maybe he didn't want to be seen by someone who - he could have thought - would report that he was in pretty company, especially if the rumours are true about... well!... about a... a story between him and Commander..."
"Ensign!" the Captain exclaimed.
"Mister Mayweather!" Malcolm intensified.
"Travis!" Hoshi added, with a tone of sweet scolding.
"Oh... oh... Sorry! Sorry! I didn't want to appear disrespectful, but, you know the rumours are..."
"In short, Travis, what the hell have you seen? Why are you so astounded?" the Captain asked, with impatience.
"Well, Captain, I was asking myself what I should do, and, in meantime, the Commander and the woman who was with him had reached the shuttle and were boarding it. And while the Commander was kindly helping her to get on the shuttle, I was able to observe her very well, and..."
"And?"
"And?"
"And?"
"Damn! You, all of you, are free to not believe me, but that woman, dressed in that way, that woman, who was enjoying the Commander's help, leaning on his arm, was so sexy and attractive..."
"Yes?"
"Yes?"
"Yes?"
"The wide-brimmed hat - yes, the wide-brimmed and indeed womanly hat! - and the sunglasses - sunglasses, I said! - she was wearing weren't able to hide who she was. She was..."
"She was?"
"She was?"
"She was?"
"Captain, Lieutenant, Ensign... she was..."
"Who?"
"Who?"
"Who?"
"She was Commander T'Pol!"
The words burst out in a single breath from Enterprise's pilot, as if he wanted to get out from under the heaviest of burdens.
There has been a moment of silence. Then...
"What?" the Captain inquired.
"Eh?" Malcolm exclaimed.
"I beg your pardon?" Hoshi sighed.
"I swear! I didn't deceive myself. She was Commander T'Pol!"
"Mister Mayweather..."
"Ensign..."
"Travis..."
"It's so! IT'S SO!"
"Are you really saying..."
"Are you really affirming..."
"Are you really maintaining..."
"SHE W-A-S Commander T'Pol! Right after I got over my amazement and I realized that the shuttle had left with the couple, I began to run toward here, to find someone to whom I would be able to communicate what I had seen, someone with whom I would be able to share it, because things like these can't be kept quiet. And so I met you and...
The Captain interrupted Travis with force, speaking harshly to him, his eyes staring at him and flashing almost dangerously.
"I'm stunned, Mister Mayweather. Yes, I'm stunned!"
"Oh yes, Captain. What else could you be if not stunned at the idea that Commander T'Pol... "
"Mister Mayweather, I'm stunned because you have just said that you, an officer of Enterprise, intend to feed that opprobrious Human habit which is called gossip."
"W... what? Captain..."
"But, above all, I'm stunned - abysmally and sadly stunned - that you intend to feed this gossip with a figment of your imagination."
"Ca... captain, I didn't imagine anything, I..."
"So," Malcolm said, having understood the joke the Captain's was playing, "we have to determine if you really saw all that or if you imagined it."
"Exactly, Mister Reed, and.."
"In other words," Malcolm went on "you need the Doctor."
"What? I... I feel perfectly well! I..."
"Really?" the even more malicious Malcolm kept on. "In this case, what you have seen has been nothing but..." The lieutenant looked at the sweaty helmsman intentionally and poignantly. "... a pink elephant!"
An incredulous Travis tried to speak. "A... a pink..."
"A RED Elephant!" The most sweet and most careful, Hoshi intervened. "Since when, Travis? I can't think a strong and self-disciplined man such as you has been able to indulge in this bad vice. Why did you begin to drink? Because of what? What bothers you? Can I, can we help you in some way?"
"Dr... dr... drink? But I..."
"Enough!" The Captain stopped everyone, raising his arms aloft. "I don't want to know anything!"
He looked at the speechless pilot, and continued.
"I, all of us, won't say a single word, Mister Mayweather. Not one. And nobody will know of your bad habit. I hope giving you this chance will enable you to come to your senses, and believe me, considering the responsibility you have, you must take this as a very great demonstration of friendship and faith. "
"But... but... Sir!"
"But if you, Mister Mayweather, dare tell someone about your pink elephant, bringing to light your aberration, I will be forced to take appropriate measures. Try to remember that."
"SIR!"
"TRY TO REMEMBER THAT!"
With that said and before the bewildered young man was able to reply, the Captain pivoted on his heels and headed for the Headquarters. He was immediately followed by Hoshi and Malcolm, who were displaying strange expressions on their faces, expressions which the helmsman perceived as of... amusement!
Just as the Captain was about to enter the mansion office, he stopped and turned around, addressing Travis, while the other two disappeared inside.
He looked at him with something... sneaky... on his visage and spoke one last time. "Try to remember that."
The young man wasn't capable of doing anything else than replying feebly "I... I'll try to remember that."
The Captain nodded, inscrutable and still... almost like teasing. Unequivocally teasing. Then he turned around and went into the building.
Travis remained alone, speechless and motionless. He was unable to think clearly, to understand what had happened.
The absurdity of the Captain's statements, of Malcolm's, even of Hoshi's...
Their stubborn insistence in not wanting to believe him, in not even wanting to consider what he had seen...
And at last those strange expressions on Malcolm and Hoshi's faces, when they had entered the Headquarters. Their hidden smiles. Yes, smiles.
The sneaky appearance of the Captain's visage...
And finally, a light bulb lighted up suddenly in Travis' mind.
But how the hell had he been so idiotic? So blind? He had deserved that his leg had been pulled, but he would be capable of remedying the situation.
Yes. He would.
He smiled gladly and largely and murmured in a low voice, as if talking to himself.
"Okay, Captain. I'll try... I'll remember that."
"Hey! This is my official vacation outfit, Mal. Maybe it's a bit worn out by now and the colours are slightly washed out, but it is still my preferred shore leave attire." Trip said
"Thank goodness it got a little discoloured. Are you attempting to chase everyone away at the simple sight of your shirt?"
"Ha, ha, ha. Very fun. But I'm not touched, and, in any case, there's someone who will keep company with me... No! What I wanted to say is that there's someone who will keep me company."
"Ah, I see. So, you won't be going to your parents' new house in Mississippi."
"No, I think it's better if I... we don't do that. I want to show my companion the joys and pleasures of Florida."
"Can there really be someone so brave as to show himself together with you while you are wearing that horrible shirt?" Hoshi's voice rose up from behind the two men.
Trip turned around, an annoyed expression on his face. "Ha, ha, ha. Again very funny. But I'm not going to rise to the bait. You two are free to believe or to not believe it, but this someone does exist."
"Impossible." The Captain's voice sprang up, teasing and loud. "I can't believe there's a man or a woman who would dare accompany you as you're dressed with this infamous shirt."
Trip rolled his eyes, trying to keep himself calm. He turned toward the Captain. "Jon..."
"Captain, undeniably that shirt is really... peculiar, as all of you are saying, but in my opinion it fits in perfectly with Commander Tucker's colourful personality." The unmistakable voice of T'Pol, quiet and sure, claimed the attention of the three men and Hoshi.
While turning to the source of that voice, the Captain was once more surprised by the fact that it sounded like his Vulcan First Officer had made a witticism, something that seemed to be happening more and more often lately.
He began. "Well, T'Pol...". Then he stopped abruptly.
His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Then, while trying to shut his mouth, he turned to look at the faces of Malcolm and Hoshi and saw the same astonished expression he had on his visage.
In the meantime, Trip was displaying a quick sequence of more complex expressions.
Marvel, as first, like the others. And surprise. Right after something... well, maybe it could be called... enjoyment? Pleasure? Astounded happiness? And understanding? And pride? And finally an enormous, almost foolish smile - one which would arouse Phlox's envy.
And if Archer, Malcolm and Hoshi were capable of looking at T'Pol just at that moment, instead of watching each other with dazed faces, they could have seen that the corners of T'Pol's lips were bending up with an unequivocal even if almost imperceptibly tiny smile. Clearly she recognized that Trip had understood and that she had achieved her purpose.
The Captain tried to speak, his eyes wide open and locked with T'Pol's immovable face. "T... T... T'P... T'P..."
The Vulcan woman took off her sunglasses, holding them with her right hand. She blinked in a way which seemed to show some sort of mocking concern. "Captain, is everything all right? You are pale and I have never heard you stammer. Do you need the Doctor, by chance?"
"Yes!... Uh no...! Y...yes... No!"
"Captain?"
"T'Pol..."
"Captain?"
"You are... you are..."
The Captain's look went practically of its own volition to the brightly coloured travel bag T'Pol was holding with her left hand, the exact duplicate of that which was in Trip's right hand.
The Vulcan woman's eyelids blinked again. "Oh, I understand. Yes, Captain. I'm Commander Tucker's companion during his... our shore leave. I thought it would be agreeable to accept his invitation to discover Florida's beauties by means of his direct knowledge of the country."
"R... right. So you... so you... a... are wearing..."
T'Pol lowered her dark eyes to look at the clothes she was wearing. Her expression appeared to be very feminine.
"Well, Captain. I thought it would definitely be appropriate to be dressed in Florida summer fashion, considering the occasion. After all, when Tr... Commander Tucker came to Vulcan, he didn't hesitate to wear Vulcan clothes so as to honour me and my world. I think I should return this honour. Not to mention that it would probably be better if I did not shamelessly show my ancestry while I'm sharing the company of a Human. You know, there are people among your race who don't like Vulcans and maybe my attire could be of some help in order to let me go unnoticed."
"Un... noticed?"
In a daze, the Captain's look went spontaneously to the curvaceous hips and shapely legs that the low-rise, flame-red-coloured shorts T'Pol had put on were showing in all their beauty. He lingered on her bare feet with their... their fire-red, wedge-heeled and ankle-strapped sandals, and finally to her toenails which were... were covered with a ruby-red nail polish. Just so!
A pink elephant! Without doubt! A little too much whiskey, yes! Earlier in the evening, after all of them had taken their assigned accommodations as Starfleet members. Alone, in his room, while relaxing, finally. Savouring a water polo match, with a good bottle of excellent liqueur. Too much, evidently. Yes, too much whiskey and now he was seeing a pink elephant. Sure, no other explanation was able to be found for his... for his vision.
But the expression he recognized on Malcolm and Hoshi's faces, while the blissful and silly smile of Trip was beaming more and more, was a plain demonstration that he wasn't hallucinating, even if logic, as T'Pol would say, was suggesting the exact opposite.
His look, like the look of the others, dwelt on the blue marine coloured and close-fitting tank top the Vulcan was wearing, so short that her belly button was well-exposed above the shorts' waistline and which allowed T'Pol's polished and nude arms to display themselves in all their grace. His eyes loitered on the tank top's deep neckline, under which her very impressive bosom was inflating the light garment, exactly where a yellow coloured word, Bellavista, was printed, drawing inevitably all the looks.
Then his eyes focused on the cute wide-brimmed hat which she wore on her head. Her dark hair stuck out beneath it, hiding her pointed ears. The brim shaded her lovely visage, giving her a sort of saucy and enthralling appearance.
The Captain finally stared at T'Pol's face, where an uncharacteristic expression was peeping out, a sort of mix between her usual deadpan appearance and what seemed some kind of pert amusement.
"Unnoticed, T'Pol?" the Captain repeated with an uncertain voice.
The Vulcan put the sunglasses on again. "Do you think, Captain, these glasses and this hat will allow me to go unnoticed?"
"Uh... uh... of course, they are useful to veil your Vulcan nature, but about your going... unnoticed..."
"I suppose you want to say that my attire doesn't work. Actually, Captain, I have to admit that probably you are right. In fact, even if I don't understand the precise reason, many people looked at me with evident attention while I was coming here to meet Commander Tucker. I don't know, probably there is something strange or wrong with my attire. Maybe I misinterpreted Ensign Sato's suggestions and the clothes I bought on-line following her teachings are not those which a Human woman would put on, according to the latest Terran fashion for a summer holiday at the sea."
"Ahem..." The Ensign, so brusquely and patently called to the matter, cleared her throat. "Not at all, Commander, not at all. But I didn't imagine what you wanted to do when you asked me for that information. I merely supposed it was some sort of curiosity on your part, considering that you wished to be informed about a lot of other things. In... incidentally, maybe it would have been a good thing if you'd asked me what Bellavista means in the Italian language. In any case, believe me, you look absolutely Florida-holiday-girl-like. Only... well! Frankly, it's difficult to think you can go unnoticed, dressed in this way. E... especially for men."
At the precise moment Hoshi was saying these words, a strong noise, followed by the sound of cursing Human voices, attracted the attention of the four Enterprise officers. When they turned their heads toward the noise's source to see what was happening, they were saw two young men, dressed in Starfleet uniforms fall on the ground. After that they unequivocally crashed into each other, and while they were trying to stand up and exchanging many embarrassed excuses, their eyes were still fixed on what most likely had been the cause of their inattention.
T'Pol.
"I think..." Malcolm began to say, without averting his eyes from the scene.
"... Hoshi..." the Captain went on, his look still fixed on the two young men.
"... is right." Trip concluded, observing the two with a patent expression of amusement on his face and a pleasant feeling of pride inside.
"Why?" The Vulcan's question seemed sincere, but there was a hint of amusement in her voice.
Malcolm decided the time had come to intervene, and so he did, sternly and precisely, looking purposely at the Vulcan woman. "Your attire is perfect, Commander, but as for you going unnoticed, no doubt that is impossible."
"But why?" T'Pol repeated. The amused teasing in her voice was a little more evident.
Finally, Trip thought it would be better to cut it short. He watched the beautiful and unrecognizable Vulcan woman with a funny and odd look. "I will explain it to you in private, and maybe, still in private..." An impish smirk crossed his face while he was saying that. "... you will want to explain to me why you put on that nail varnish and why you didn't tell Hoshi anything about your intentions. Anyway, don't worry. Unnoticed or not, nobody will suspect your Vulcan nature. So, are you ready, Dar...T'Pol?"
The Vulcan neither replied to Trip's remarks nor insisted on an answer to her question. But something, a hint of a small roguish smile, an air of smugness and complicity did spread across her visage, while she simply limited herself to saying "I am."
"All right. So, we can go." Trip pointed at T'Pol's travel bag. "Give me that."
"Why?"
"Oh damn! Again? Aren't you capable of satisfying any request without bringing up some problems? I only want to carry your travel bag. Southern chivalry, Milady, only that."
"I don't think it's appropriate for Enterprise's First Officer to be waited on by you and your southern chivalry, Commander Tucker."
"Hey, Miss Vulcan-I-know-everything, are we on shore leave or we are not? No First Officer and no Chief Engineer at present, okay? No Commander, okay? And, if you want to honour me and my world's customs, as you said, give me that damned travel bag."
Probably no Human and not even one Vulcan would believe that Trip was calling T'Pol with that appellative in public. And less and less that T'Pol wasn't batting an eyelash in hearing Trip's disrespectful expression. But it was just so, as Archer, Reed and Sato could attest.
"Very well, Comm... Tr... But I don't understand why you say you want to relieve me of supporting its weight. Definitely it hasn't been made particularly heavy because of the diving mask, or the flippers, or the diving suit or the swimsuits, or..."
"Diving mask?" Malcolm began, interrupting T'Pol, his eyes suddenly wide open.
"Flippers?" the Captain went on, incredulously.
"Diving suit?" Hoshi added, almost unable to close her mouth.
"Swimsuits?" The three exclaimed in unison, their faces astonished.
With a very blackguardly grin, Trip turned towards Hoshi and the two men and, while holding his own bag on his right shoulder, he took T'Pol's travel bag with his right hand. At the same time, the Vulcan placed herself on his left side.
"Well, comrades, do you think it's possible to show T'Pol Florida's beauties without introducing her to the sweet touch of the Florida's waters?"
"I always believed that ..." a disbelieving Malcolm began.
"...V...V...Vulcans don't..." a babbling Hoshi carried on.
"... appreciate swimming." a befuddled Archer finished.
"That's true, Captain." said the Vulcan with a stern expression. "But I thought it was discourteous for me to accept Commander Tucker's invitation to discover Florida's beauties with him, without allowing him to show me Florida's waters, as he said. And then, I'm persuaded that it's totally illogical for an adult Vulcan woman to be incapable of swimming simply because Vulcans never felt the necessity to learn this type of activity since it is impracticable on my world. But this knowledge would be very useful, during some away missions. This is for me a rare opportunity."
"But T'Pol," the Captain said, almost with unwillingness "ocean waters can be very dangerous and... Well! They can be very scary for anyone who is not used to swimming. And you have never swum."
He was sure that, behind those sunglasses, T'Pol's eyes were flashing with fierce disapproval because of his words. He was telling her that she would feel fear.
And then something unexpected happened, if something else unexpected was able to happen, after all that had already occurred.
The Vulcan spoke with a quiet voice. "Captain, all of you know me well enough by now to know that Vulcans can experience fear... that they cannot always succeed in controlling it. So it is possible... probably inevitable... that I could experience fear when I will dive into the sea, attempting to overcome my ancestral diffidence for open waters. But..."
The Vulcan abruptly stopped speaking, as if searching for the right words.
Finally, she shook her head and said, "Oh well! After all, we are on shore leave!"
And after having exclaimed this sentence, she turned her face toward Trip and finished what she had been about to say. And the captain, like the others, was sure that there was in T'Pol's tone something they never would have thought they would hear in her voice.
Just a little more than a simple hint, but it was perfectly discernible.
Sweetness.
And together with it... yes... together with it... faith.
"I have no doubt that Trip will manage to help me enjoy the sea without any fear."
With that she said, and just to demonstrate that wonders never end, she took Trip's left hand with her right and squeezed it. Then, still holding Trip's hand in hers, she turned her tranquil face to the Captain, Hoshi and Malcolm, who were standing speechless, in front of the scene.
There was a long bated moment, until Trip finally cleared his throat and spoke, attempting to break the odd atmosphere with one of his usual wisecracks. "There's nothing better than a relaxing shore leave for taking some kind of agreeable liberties, right?"
T'Pol squeezed his hand again. "Right."
"Oh... oh... ahem... well! It's late. We better go. Greetings, Jon... Hoshi... Malcolm. T'Pol and I will see you on the day of Mister Samuels' speech. Take care and try to have a great time during your shore leave." He smirked. "T'Pol and I surely won't have any problem with that."
If someone believed that Trip's growing smirk was attributable to the quick, sidelong glance T'Pol cast at him because of his words, this someone wouldn't be judged wrong. In fact, that was what the Captain, Hoshi and Malcolm thought in unison, while hearing the last flippant and plainly allusive sentence of Trip. But, in reality, that wasn't the true reason. The fact was that Trip sensed the intensifying of T'Pol's grip on his hand, right after she heard his saucy allusion.
Without acknowledging the minimal sign of what had passed between her and her Bond-Mate, T'Pol followed Trip's example and politely said her good-byes to the three, lowering her head slightly. "Captain, Ensign, Lieutenant, I, too, hope your shore leave will be very pleasant. Please let Doctor Phlox and Mister Mayweather, as well as Engineer Hess, know that Trip and I also wish them a very agreeable shore leave."
Trip! Again! Still hand in hand!
Then she turned to him. "Let's go."
Trip smiled at her blissfully. "Let's go," he repeated and turned around slowly and carefully, allowing T'Pol to turn together with him and to remain to his left side without their hands breaking their hold on each other.
The Captain, Hoshi and Malcolm watched in silence as the couple, still holding hands with each other, walked along the tree-lined avenue to the shuttle, which was waiting at the avenue's end for the passengers who had to be transported to the airport.
The three observed from a distance the way Trip helped T'Pol enter the shuttle, making her go first and gently supporting her by her arm, and the way T'Pol leaned trustingly on Trip's hand, allowing him to lead her.
They watched the shuttle go away.
Finally, Malcolm broke off the silence. "I think..." he began.
"... I always..." Hoshi went on.
"... will remember that." the Captain finished. The marvel he was feeling inside was great enough to overcome his jealousy, which he had first experienced when he realized what was between his Vulcan First Officer and his Chief Engineer that time T'Pol had almost gone(1).
"What do you think?" Hoshi asked, without speaking to anyone in particular, almost like she was trying to make things a little more normal. "Will she be cold, dressed in that way? After all, she is Vulcan, and her world is hotter than our. Even if the weather is very warm for the present season and if they are going to reach the sunny beaches of Florida, maybe she will feel slightly uncomfortable."
A pensive Lieutenant Reed replied, almost as if talking to himself. "I don't think so."
And the Captain, looking purposely at his two colleagues, nodded with firm belief. "Neither do I."
He began to unravel the thread of his thoughts.
After that night (1), during which he had become fully aware of the love story between the Vulcan woman and Trip, their relationship had seemed to go wrong. Nothing had happened, nothing had leaked out, and, using hindsight, Trip, the most sociable and gregarious of men, had become more and more reserved and even sulkier. Yes, just so. And T'Pol had again become distant, like she had been in the beginning of her service on Enterprise.
Evidently, to admit and to accept being in love with a Human man had to be very hard for a Vulcan woman.
But, evidently, their love story was still there, even if difficult. Probably - surely - they were struggling with an ocean of misunderstanding and miscommunications. So, at a certain moment, Trip was unable to live with his sorrow and he wanted to leave Enterprise. The Captain had wanted to pretend that he did not understand what had pushed Trip to make this choice, but, in the deep of his soul, he, and not only he, knew.
But Trip had come back to save Enterprise and all its crew. Sure, Trip himself had suggested the dangerous way he should follow to reach Enterprise because he was a caring, generous, brave, and bold man. Sure.
And because on Enterprise there was T'Pol...T'Pol and her love for him.
The Captain became more and more pensive, while all the puzzle pieces were gaining their right place, including T'Pol's strange conduct when she had made that wisecrack after she and Trip had defeated the Orion females.
Yeah, evidently, something had happened between the two.
The Captain mused again about the true Trip that everyone on Enterprise was able to see again after his return. And... about the changes everyone was able to perceive in T'Pol's behaviour. He hadn't wanted to deepen the whys and wherefores, but T'Pol had begun to display a deportment which could be defined as friendly. Still Vulcan, obviously, but in some way, human and friendly.
She had returned to share the Humans' company, and - yes - she now was fully liking this company. She was taking part in the Human conversations and... and the way she was raising her eyebrow when Trip was joking - Yes! He was joking again! - was different. Nothing could be clearly noticed, and nevertheless... and nevertheless there was something new, an understanding, a... a sort of warm complicity on their faces. Some sort of unexpressed and yet evident and sure gladness and pride, on Trip's face. Some sort of unexpressed and yet manifest and quiet gladness and... sweetness on hers.
And what the hell better reason can exist but love to make a woman so? Vulcan or not?
Now the Captain was capable of understanding. Fully.
Evidently, T'Pol had finally accepted her love. The love she and Trip felt for each other
And, evidently, now she was relishing this love to such an extent that the two had decided that time had arrived to bring it to light. At last. Taking advantage of the shore leave.
And, evidently, T'Pol wanted to make everyone aware - and markedly Trip - that it had reached the point of no return, that she and Trip had to be seen and perceived by those who were their friends as a veritable couple. In love.
For that, she had behaved the way she had. So humanely. So unvulcan-like. For that, she wanted to appear so beautiful and desirable. So human and desirable. She had told Trip that she is in love with him and that, for this and for him, she accepted - NO - she wanted to be different from the other Vulcans. Still a Vulcan woman, but his Vulcan woman.
The Captain knew, as the others of Enterprise, that T'Pol was a very maverick Vulcan, open-minded and unconventional, a Vulcan who cared for Humans, who had learned to live among them, who had become an indispensable and trustworthy member of the crew. And he knew that, someway, a lot of human-like sensations and behavioural patterns had penetrated her Vulcan being, because it would have been impossible for her to share the destiny of her comrades, their sufferings, their hopes, without becoming similar to them, at least a tiny bit.
(*A tiny bit? *) the Captain thought. (*All things, except 'a tiny bit!' Today she demonstrated without a doubt that she wants to be Trip's woman, finally and completely, even if she has to cover everything with logic's mantle and even if Trip - if I know my friend - wants her regardless of her Vulcaness or maybe even because of it. She is willing to do all to please him, to be enjoyed by him, for... for surprising him.*)
And now? What the hell should he do? Two of his officers are in love with each other, breaking the rules. Of course, nothing has been told aloud, with unequivocal words, but the facts spoke for themselves. But, honestly... was he really unable to help them? If he didn't act, he would never be capable of looking at himself in the mirror, and the guilt he would feel would be greater, much greater, than the pangs of jealousy he would inevitably sense, seeing them around and in love. The woman he had desired now belongs to Trip.
Perhaps the better road to take would be for him and his comrades to behave as if nothing had happened.
Sure. The eye doesn't see; the heart doesn't hurt. In... in all respects.
And Trip and T'Pol might be together, without clamour.
In fact, only he and Hoshi and Malcolm and most likely Phlox were aware. Maybe Hess, as the Trip's closest co-worker, might suspect something. As for the remaining crew, apart from the fact that they couldn't have a say in the matter, any potential suspicion from them, even real knowledge, would certainly be without consequences because of Trip's popularity and the romanticism of a love born on Enterprise between its Chief Engineer and the - long ago - slightly frightening and cold Vulcan woman, who had become his lover. Their relationship would definitely obtain the tacit and glad consent of everyone. So if anyone who knew for sure would not speak and if Trip and T'Pol would act discreetly...
"Hoshi! Malcolm! Ca... Captain!"
The excited voice of Travis, panting and breathless and dressed in a tracksuit, woke up the Captain from his ruminations and claimed the attention of him and the other two, who were engrossed in their own thoughts.
"Captain! Hoshi! Malcolm! Captain! Cap..."
"Bloody hell, Mister Mayweather! Calm down! You are prattling like a little boy!" said Malcolm.
"Lieutenant Reed is right, Mister Mayweather. Shore leave or no shore leave, you're still an officer in Starfleet. Why the hell are you jabbering like this? Have you seen a ghost, by chance?"
"Excuse me, Captain... a ghost? No... I... excuse me... no, not a ghost! Sorry, Captain. A ghost? Oh, but a ghost would be less stupefying! Excuse me... I..."
"Travis! Enough now! Try to say some intelligible words!"
"Oh yes! Sure! But... I... Excuse me, Captain..."
"TRAVIS!"
The young man took a deep breath then finally found the little bit of calm he needed to let him explain the cause of his excitement.
"Captain, this morning I got up very early because I wanted to take advantage of the shore leave and go jogging in the coolness of the first hours of the day. I was coming back and was resting for some moments in the shade of a tree, where the airport shuttle was waiting for its passengers. When I turned my head, I saw Commander Tucker, dressed in a pair of jeans and with that tremendous shirt he persists in wearing when he goes on liberty. He was reaching the shuttle, holding two travel bags, the one on his right shoulder and the second with his right hand. And he wasn't alone."
"No?" the Captain said.
"No?" Malcolm repeated.
"No? Hoshi added.
"No. He was holding with his left hand the hand of a woman who was walking by his side and who looked... looked... like a pin-up! A cover girl!"
"No!" the Captain exclaimed.
"No!" Malcolm burst out.
"No!" Hoshi amplified.
"Really! And, Captain... Malcolm... Hoshi, you should have seen the pair of legs she was showing under her low rise shorts, the way those legs were made attractively appealing by the wedge-heeled sandals she was wearing, and how her short and light tank top was allowing... Oh! Sorry, sorry, Hoshi! Excuse me!"
"Well, Travis, no need to apologize. Don't you think I'm old enough to know what men think when they are lucky enough to meet a beautiful woman? And sexy, too, if I understood well."
"Sexy? That doesn't begin to describe it!"
"No?" Malcolm said.
"No, Mister Reed. She was... wondrous. Spectacular!"
"Eh..." the Captain sighed. "I always wondered how the hell Trip is capable of attracting so many beautiful women."
"Exactly, Captain, that was my thought when I saw the couple, and..."
"Nevertheless, Travis, just because of this undeniable fact, I don't understand your stupefaction." the Captain interrupted.
"Captain, please, let me finish what I wanted to say."
The Captain, like the others, observed the young man with both worry and amusement. "Ok, Mister Mayweather, excuse me. Please, go on."
"Captain, as I said, I, too, was wondering how the Commander is able to attract so many beautiful women, and I was uncertain if I had to greet him, revealing my presence. Maybe this would have been inopportune. Maybe he didn't want to be seen by someone who - he could have thought - would report that he was in pretty company, especially if the rumours are true about... well!... about a... a story between him and Commander..."
"Ensign!" the Captain exclaimed.
"Mister Mayweather!" Malcolm intensified.
"Travis!" Hoshi added, with a tone of sweet scolding.
"Oh... oh... Sorry! Sorry! I didn't want to appear disrespectful, but, you know the rumours are..."
"In short, Travis, what the hell have you seen? Why are you so astounded?" the Captain asked, with impatience.
"Well, Captain, I was asking myself what I should do, and, in meantime, the Commander and the woman who was with him had reached the shuttle and were boarding it. And while the Commander was kindly helping her to get on the shuttle, I was able to observe her very well, and..."
"And?"
"And?"
"And?"
"Damn! You, all of you, are free to not believe me, but that woman, dressed in that way, that woman, who was enjoying the Commander's help, leaning on his arm, was so sexy and attractive..."
"Yes?"
"Yes?"
"Yes?"
"The wide-brimmed hat - yes, the wide-brimmed and indeed womanly hat! - and the sunglasses - sunglasses, I said! - she was wearing weren't able to hide who she was. She was..."
"She was?"
"She was?"
"She was?"
"Captain, Lieutenant, Ensign... she was..."
"Who?"
"Who?"
"Who?"
"She was Commander T'Pol!"
The words burst out in a single breath from Enterprise's pilot, as if he wanted to get out from under the heaviest of burdens.
There has been a moment of silence. Then...
"What?" the Captain inquired.
"Eh?" Malcolm exclaimed.
"I beg your pardon?" Hoshi sighed.
"I swear! I didn't deceive myself. She was Commander T'Pol!"
"Mister Mayweather..."
"Ensign..."
"Travis..."
"It's so! IT'S SO!"
"Are you really saying..."
"Are you really affirming..."
"Are you really maintaining..."
"SHE W-A-S Commander T'Pol! Right after I got over my amazement and I realized that the shuttle had left with the couple, I began to run toward here, to find someone to whom I would be able to communicate what I had seen, someone with whom I would be able to share it, because things like these can't be kept quiet. And so I met you and...
The Captain interrupted Travis with force, speaking harshly to him, his eyes staring at him and flashing almost dangerously.
"I'm stunned, Mister Mayweather. Yes, I'm stunned!"
"Oh yes, Captain. What else could you be if not stunned at the idea that Commander T'Pol... "
"Mister Mayweather, I'm stunned because you have just said that you, an officer of Enterprise, intend to feed that opprobrious Human habit which is called gossip."
"W... what? Captain..."
"But, above all, I'm stunned - abysmally and sadly stunned - that you intend to feed this gossip with a figment of your imagination."
"Ca... captain, I didn't imagine anything, I..."
"So," Malcolm said, having understood the joke the Captain's was playing, "we have to determine if you really saw all that or if you imagined it."
"Exactly, Mister Reed, and.."
"In other words," Malcolm went on "you need the Doctor."
"What? I... I feel perfectly well! I..."
"Really?" the even more malicious Malcolm kept on. "In this case, what you have seen has been nothing but..." The lieutenant looked at the sweaty helmsman intentionally and poignantly. "... a pink elephant!"
An incredulous Travis tried to speak. "A... a pink..."
"A RED Elephant!" The most sweet and most careful, Hoshi intervened. "Since when, Travis? I can't think a strong and self-disciplined man such as you has been able to indulge in this bad vice. Why did you begin to drink? Because of what? What bothers you? Can I, can we help you in some way?"
"Dr... dr... drink? But I..."
"Enough!" The Captain stopped everyone, raising his arms aloft. "I don't want to know anything!"
He looked at the speechless pilot, and continued.
"I, all of us, won't say a single word, Mister Mayweather. Not one. And nobody will know of your bad habit. I hope giving you this chance will enable you to come to your senses, and believe me, considering the responsibility you have, you must take this as a very great demonstration of friendship and faith. "
"But... but... Sir!"
"But if you, Mister Mayweather, dare tell someone about your pink elephant, bringing to light your aberration, I will be forced to take appropriate measures. Try to remember that."
"SIR!"
"TRY TO REMEMBER THAT!"
With that said and before the bewildered young man was able to reply, the Captain pivoted on his heels and headed for the Headquarters. He was immediately followed by Hoshi and Malcolm, who were displaying strange expressions on their faces, expressions which the helmsman perceived as of... amusement!
Just as the Captain was about to enter the mansion office, he stopped and turned around, addressing Travis, while the other two disappeared inside.
He looked at him with something... sneaky... on his visage and spoke one last time. "Try to remember that."
The young man wasn't capable of doing anything else than replying feebly "I... I'll try to remember that."
The Captain nodded, inscrutable and still... almost like teasing. Unequivocally teasing. Then he turned around and went into the building.
Travis remained alone, speechless and motionless. He was unable to think clearly, to understand what had happened.
The absurdity of the Captain's statements, of Malcolm's, even of Hoshi's...
Their stubborn insistence in not wanting to believe him, in not even wanting to consider what he had seen...
And at last those strange expressions on Malcolm and Hoshi's faces, when they had entered the Headquarters. Their hidden smiles. Yes, smiles.
The sneaky appearance of the Captain's visage...
And finally, a light bulb lighted up suddenly in Travis' mind.
But how the hell had he been so idiotic? So blind? He had deserved that his leg had been pulled, but he would be capable of remedying the situation.
Yes. He would.
He smiled gladly and largely and murmured in a low voice, as if talking to himself.
"Okay, Captain. I'll try... I'll remember that."
Same day, a bit later. Civilian San Francisco Airport.
****
"Next, please."
The gentle and professional voice of the gracious Human woman behind the ticket-window was calling one after the other the people who were patiently waiting their turn.
Her eyes looked briefly at every person before she lowered them again to the monitor, while quietly inquiring. "May I have some identification, please? Your destination? When? Your reason for travelling? Your baggage? Anything to declare?"
She did the same when a man dressed in a horrible multicoloured shirt reached his turn in front of the ticket-window.
The woman's look darted distractedly to him, who was flaunting on his knavish face a pair of sparkling blue eyes and a very big moustache as blonde as his hair.
And she stopped suddenly.
That face... those eyes... that handsome appearance... that roguish smile, even behind that concealing moustache...
And... that shirt... multicoloured even if a bit faded...
Her eyes widened with pleasure and her lips curved up in a glad smile, then finally she managed to speak. Lowly and uncertainly.
"You are... you are...
The man's expression immediately became alarmed. He looked around on the sly, then returned his eyes to the woman. "Shush! Please! I am incognito. I don't want..."
"You are the man I met long ago..."
"Eh?"
"... and who became one of the saviours of..."
"Please!" The man was urging the woman to be discreet, and in meantime he was attempting to understand what she was saying.
"That moustache is useless, you are..."
"Please!"
The woman's voice got very low. "... Commander Tucker!"
"Oh my!" The man again looked sidelong at the little crowd which now was getting curious, since they were unable to hear the conversation and understand what was happening.
The woman smiled dreamily and cheekily, fluttering intentionally her eyelashes and resting her chin on her hands. "I told you Starfleet had good taste, and you would be a great engineer."
The blue eyes of the man glistened with comprehension. "Oh! You are..."
The smile on the woman's face spread even more. "I am!"
"Oh... oh... well..."
"So..." Barefacedly, shamelessly. "... are you still alone? I know you became a very big name, but maybe you still need... company."
"I... I..."
A cold and stern female voice arose from behind the man's shoulders. "He doesn't need company."
The look of the Human woman went irritatingly to the source of that voice and... it watched the most sexy and attractive of the women move purposely and meaningfully, to the side of the man.
This woman strongly and designedly grasped the man's hand with hers, while he was behaving like he was on tenterhook.
She placed herself steadily on her beautiful legs, which her wedge-heeled sandals made seductively shapely and which were bare and appealing under her shorts, her bosom inflating her close-fitting and short tank top, her free hand placed defiantly on her willowy and nude hip, her eyes hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses, her lovely visage gleaming beautifully under the brim of her wide-brimmed hat.
Still displaying that icy tone, she directly addressed the taken aback woman behind the ticket-window. "He already has someone who is keeping him company. And also keeping company with him."
While Tucker's eyes were getting larger at the unambiguous words of his beautiful companion, the Human woman, without taking notice of the Commander's surprised expression, got annoyed by the way the other woman had turned against her. After all, she simply hadn't noticed her or the fact that the two were together. She hadn't done anything bad.
So following that weird instinct which not infrequently forces Humans to rail against even the most righteous remarks for the sole purpose of asserting themselves, she tightened her lips and her eyes and, smiling wickedly, snapped the most evil of the looks at the stunning woman who had the luck to be Commander Tucker's girlfriend, most likely. Ehhh... Now was the time to deliver one of those tremendous sentences which only women are capable of voicing when they want to wound another female.
Her words dripped honey. "Oh my dear! Excuse me! I didn't notice you were in the Commander's company. You have to forgive me because... Well! It's difficult to believe that this fine man would be seen in the company of a woman who is so..."
The ticket agent paused some moments, while her eyes looked the other woman up and down, stopping briefly and on purpose on that word, BELLAVISTA, which was on full view just under the deep neckline of the tank top this woman was wearing. The ticket official finally levelled her stare intentionally at the other woman's visage, while displaying the most sweet of smiles. She spat out her last word.
"... garish!"
And now Trip felt three things:
One. Now he was no longer on tenterhooks. He was on burning coals.
Two. A sort of tickling in his mind. Even if he wasn't already able to understand clearly that it was caused by the bond which was tying T'Pol to him, he knew for sure that that minacious tickling was coming from the female who was holding his hand tightly in hers.
Three. The intensifying of her grip on his hand, a grip which was getting so tight that he felt pain.
Tremendously ill-at-ease, he turned his eyes alternately from one woman to the other, without knowing what he should do. Then after a few moment his self-controlled - yes! Luckily SELF-CONTROLLED! - companion acted. And talked.
She slowly and deliberately took off the sunglasses, which covered her eyes, and stared at the woman at the ticket-window with a withering look, careless of showing her arched... Vulcan... eyebrows.
The woman at the ticket-window was breathless, incapable of doing anything but gazing at those flaming Vulcan eyes, which seemed to want to incinerate her.
The Vulcan woman - Commander T'Pol... It was her! - spoke with a sharp, glacial voice that nevertheless sounded so sweetly... mellifluous.
"Definitely, there is not the smallest doubt that there are women who can allow themselves to become garish and women who cannot do this. Nobody could assert that you are part of this last group."
The tone in the Vulcan voice grew more and more venomous.
"But I have to say that I'm very sorry for you because, evidently, Mother Nature, to follow the Human figure of speech, has been a real stepmother towards you. In fact, judging by what I was able to hear from you, your not exactly... garish... aspect hasn't been counterbalanced by any other special or useful skill or gift. That is why I don't think it is right that I answer you. You are already so unlucky. It would seem like I was trying to hammer away at you."
Then putting the eyeglasses back on her nose, she added "Nevertheless, in spite of your evident inability to think with any logic, I have to warn you. It's better for you to ponder attentively over what you are about to say, before you give free rein to your illogical thoughts. It could be dangerous to have ideas about a man who belongs to another woman, especially..." Even behind the sunglasses the ominous twinkling in T'Pol's eyes could be seen, and the Vulcan voice assuredly was anything but sweet. "... especially if that man is MY man!"
At that moment, Trip could barely believe his ears, hearing T'Pol utter those words, so human, so feminine. But he still knew that there is nothing more universal than the feminine soul. He had known that instinctually, and somehow, that had helped him during his difficult relationship with T'Pol.
Three things, again, occurred to him in rapid succession.
First: He wondered if he didn't have to be afraid of this Bond. T'Pol had told him that Vulcans tend to be very possessive in regards to their mates, even if she herself didn't know a lot about this matter. But... well!... judging from her reaction towards the Human woman, he probably should act with great, great attention. He would be in big, big trouble if T'Pol suspected, even remotely, that he had some thoughts about another woman.
Second: He looked at the splendid Vulcan woman who was holding his hand, at her breathtaking aspect. But above all, his thoughts went to the hard road he - and she - had to go through, so to feel finally this grip of her hand on his, to hear these possessive words from her over him, to sense - fantastic, this Bond! - from her this feeling of...of love - yes! Of love! - from her for him... And above all that, he looked into the depths of his heart, and he felt for certain that he would run no risk that T'Pol would hurt him because, quite simply, any ideas of unfaithfulness from him, any thought from him for another woman, would never be possible.
Third: Inexorably, irrepressibly, at the unmistakable statement from his Bond-Mate that he belonged to her, at the unambiguous assertion from her that he was her man, the most smug of smiles started to beam on his face, without him being able to do anything to avoid it.
While all this was happening to Trip in a flash, the Human woman was staring in disbelief and fear. Just so. She hadn't ever known what it meant to be seized by real fear, but she was sure that that was what she was feeling now. Fear, true fear... in front of that Vulcan woman who was staking her ownership of that Human man in no uncertain terms.
And in the meantime the men and the women standing in the queue behind that man and that woman, who were holding each other hand in hand - the men envying the man and the women envying the woman - were attempting to listen to the words exchanged between the girl who was showing that spectacular body, specially built, and the official at the ticket-window.
Finally the official lowered her eyes and babbled weakly and under her breath, but not so low that her voice wasn't able to be heard by the man and the woman in front of her.
"I... I'll try to remember that."
The gentle and professional voice of the gracious Human woman behind the ticket-window was calling one after the other the people who were patiently waiting their turn.
Her eyes looked briefly at every person before she lowered them again to the monitor, while quietly inquiring. "May I have some identification, please? Your destination? When? Your reason for travelling? Your baggage? Anything to declare?"
She did the same when a man dressed in a horrible multicoloured shirt reached his turn in front of the ticket-window.
The woman's look darted distractedly to him, who was flaunting on his knavish face a pair of sparkling blue eyes and a very big moustache as blonde as his hair.
And she stopped suddenly.
That face... those eyes... that handsome appearance... that roguish smile, even behind that concealing moustache...
And... that shirt... multicoloured even if a bit faded...
Her eyes widened with pleasure and her lips curved up in a glad smile, then finally she managed to speak. Lowly and uncertainly.
"You are... you are...
The man's expression immediately became alarmed. He looked around on the sly, then returned his eyes to the woman. "Shush! Please! I am incognito. I don't want..."
"You are the man I met long ago..."
"Eh?"
"... and who became one of the saviours of..."
"Please!" The man was urging the woman to be discreet, and in meantime he was attempting to understand what she was saying.
"That moustache is useless, you are..."
"Please!"
The woman's voice got very low. "... Commander Tucker!"
"Oh my!" The man again looked sidelong at the little crowd which now was getting curious, since they were unable to hear the conversation and understand what was happening.
The woman smiled dreamily and cheekily, fluttering intentionally her eyelashes and resting her chin on her hands. "I told you Starfleet had good taste, and you would be a great engineer."
The blue eyes of the man glistened with comprehension. "Oh! You are..."
The smile on the woman's face spread even more. "I am!"
"Oh... oh... well..."
"So..." Barefacedly, shamelessly. "... are you still alone? I know you became a very big name, but maybe you still need... company."
"I... I..."
A cold and stern female voice arose from behind the man's shoulders. "He doesn't need company."
The look of the Human woman went irritatingly to the source of that voice and... it watched the most sexy and attractive of the women move purposely and meaningfully, to the side of the man.
This woman strongly and designedly grasped the man's hand with hers, while he was behaving like he was on tenterhook.
She placed herself steadily on her beautiful legs, which her wedge-heeled sandals made seductively shapely and which were bare and appealing under her shorts, her bosom inflating her close-fitting and short tank top, her free hand placed defiantly on her willowy and nude hip, her eyes hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses, her lovely visage gleaming beautifully under the brim of her wide-brimmed hat.
Still displaying that icy tone, she directly addressed the taken aback woman behind the ticket-window. "He already has someone who is keeping him company. And also keeping company with him."
While Tucker's eyes were getting larger at the unambiguous words of his beautiful companion, the Human woman, without taking notice of the Commander's surprised expression, got annoyed by the way the other woman had turned against her. After all, she simply hadn't noticed her or the fact that the two were together. She hadn't done anything bad.
So following that weird instinct which not infrequently forces Humans to rail against even the most righteous remarks for the sole purpose of asserting themselves, she tightened her lips and her eyes and, smiling wickedly, snapped the most evil of the looks at the stunning woman who had the luck to be Commander Tucker's girlfriend, most likely. Ehhh... Now was the time to deliver one of those tremendous sentences which only women are capable of voicing when they want to wound another female.
Her words dripped honey. "Oh my dear! Excuse me! I didn't notice you were in the Commander's company. You have to forgive me because... Well! It's difficult to believe that this fine man would be seen in the company of a woman who is so..."
The ticket agent paused some moments, while her eyes looked the other woman up and down, stopping briefly and on purpose on that word, BELLAVISTA, which was on full view just under the deep neckline of the tank top this woman was wearing. The ticket official finally levelled her stare intentionally at the other woman's visage, while displaying the most sweet of smiles. She spat out her last word.
"... garish!"
And now Trip felt three things:
One. Now he was no longer on tenterhooks. He was on burning coals.
Two. A sort of tickling in his mind. Even if he wasn't already able to understand clearly that it was caused by the bond which was tying T'Pol to him, he knew for sure that that minacious tickling was coming from the female who was holding his hand tightly in hers.
Three. The intensifying of her grip on his hand, a grip which was getting so tight that he felt pain.
Tremendously ill-at-ease, he turned his eyes alternately from one woman to the other, without knowing what he should do. Then after a few moment his self-controlled - yes! Luckily SELF-CONTROLLED! - companion acted. And talked.
She slowly and deliberately took off the sunglasses, which covered her eyes, and stared at the woman at the ticket-window with a withering look, careless of showing her arched... Vulcan... eyebrows.
The woman at the ticket-window was breathless, incapable of doing anything but gazing at those flaming Vulcan eyes, which seemed to want to incinerate her.
The Vulcan woman - Commander T'Pol... It was her! - spoke with a sharp, glacial voice that nevertheless sounded so sweetly... mellifluous.
"Definitely, there is not the smallest doubt that there are women who can allow themselves to become garish and women who cannot do this. Nobody could assert that you are part of this last group."
The tone in the Vulcan voice grew more and more venomous.
"But I have to say that I'm very sorry for you because, evidently, Mother Nature, to follow the Human figure of speech, has been a real stepmother towards you. In fact, judging by what I was able to hear from you, your not exactly... garish... aspect hasn't been counterbalanced by any other special or useful skill or gift. That is why I don't think it is right that I answer you. You are already so unlucky. It would seem like I was trying to hammer away at you."
Then putting the eyeglasses back on her nose, she added "Nevertheless, in spite of your evident inability to think with any logic, I have to warn you. It's better for you to ponder attentively over what you are about to say, before you give free rein to your illogical thoughts. It could be dangerous to have ideas about a man who belongs to another woman, especially..." Even behind the sunglasses the ominous twinkling in T'Pol's eyes could be seen, and the Vulcan voice assuredly was anything but sweet. "... especially if that man is MY man!"
At that moment, Trip could barely believe his ears, hearing T'Pol utter those words, so human, so feminine. But he still knew that there is nothing more universal than the feminine soul. He had known that instinctually, and somehow, that had helped him during his difficult relationship with T'Pol.
Three things, again, occurred to him in rapid succession.
First: He wondered if he didn't have to be afraid of this Bond. T'Pol had told him that Vulcans tend to be very possessive in regards to their mates, even if she herself didn't know a lot about this matter. But... well!... judging from her reaction towards the Human woman, he probably should act with great, great attention. He would be in big, big trouble if T'Pol suspected, even remotely, that he had some thoughts about another woman.
Second: He looked at the splendid Vulcan woman who was holding his hand, at her breathtaking aspect. But above all, his thoughts went to the hard road he - and she - had to go through, so to feel finally this grip of her hand on his, to hear these possessive words from her over him, to sense - fantastic, this Bond! - from her this feeling of...of love - yes! Of love! - from her for him... And above all that, he looked into the depths of his heart, and he felt for certain that he would run no risk that T'Pol would hurt him because, quite simply, any ideas of unfaithfulness from him, any thought from him for another woman, would never be possible.
Third: Inexorably, irrepressibly, at the unmistakable statement from his Bond-Mate that he belonged to her, at the unambiguous assertion from her that he was her man, the most smug of smiles started to beam on his face, without him being able to do anything to avoid it.
While all this was happening to Trip in a flash, the Human woman was staring in disbelief and fear. Just so. She hadn't ever known what it meant to be seized by real fear, but she was sure that that was what she was feeling now. Fear, true fear... in front of that Vulcan woman who was staking her ownership of that Human man in no uncertain terms.
And in the meantime the men and the women standing in the queue behind that man and that woman, who were holding each other hand in hand - the men envying the man and the women envying the woman - were attempting to listen to the words exchanged between the girl who was showing that spectacular body, specially built, and the official at the ticket-window.
Finally the official lowered her eyes and babbled weakly and under her breath, but not so low that her voice wasn't able to be heard by the man and the woman in front of her.
"I... I'll try to remember that."
End of Chapter Two
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(1) You must read "The Force" to understand what this means. Do you want to do it? Yes? Thank you so much!
____________________________________________________
(1) You must read "The Force" to understand what this means. Do you want to do it? Yes? Thank you so much!
************
Well, my dear friends, do you have some doubt about the fact that our poor girl at the desk really will remember? I do not think so.
Look at the face of T'Pol. What angelic little face! And what meaningful look, my boys! Oh yes. Our T'Pol decided it was time for her to come out into the open. And she did it. Oh, if she did it! But the Shore Leave has just begun. There is still a lot of stuff to know. |
And, if you want to know this stuff, you just have to click on the image here aside. This window, open on a splendid nocturnal sea (the one that Trip and T'Pol ... well, you just have to read the following and you'll understand), is a window open wide on the whys and wherefores. All the whys and wherefores.
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COPYRIGHT 2013 © Asso - [email protected]
COPYRIGHT 2013 © Asso - [email protected]