Home Again - Text

Home Again

By: Bether6074

Rated: NC-17 (first section and very tame)
Disclaimer: Enterprise and its characters belong to Paramount.
Genre: Fluff and Romance
Summary: This takes place several weeks after the conclusion of my Finale Fix story, Eternal Linkage, and spans over time until the birth of the baby. Trip and T’Pol are back on Vulcan, soon to be married and awaiting the arrival of their new baby.

Author’s Notes: This is a little addition to my finale fix. It’s pure sentimental fluff. I wasn’t planning the NC-17 scene, but Trip and T’Pol had other ideas.

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“I am honored that you have chosen to be present today, Ambassador.” T’Pol spoke politely to Soval, from the entrance of her mother’s former home. She stood before the elder Vulcan; her silhouetted form fully clad in regal attire, and awaited his response.

“You say that you and Mr. Tucker have bonded?” he questioned, doubtfully. “I have never heard of this happening between a Vulcan and a human. Are you completely sure?”

“Absolutely positive, Sir. I can sense him right now…” T’Pol’s words trailed off distractedly at the thought of her mate. “We have been bonded for over six years now.”

Soval gazed back at T’Pol and shook his head gently. “This is indeed interesting… but I am not sure that you are completely aware of the repercussions of the endeavor you are undertaking today. This ceremony and what it represents…” The Ambassador looked away and sighed softly. “This will not be easy for either of you. Our people…our way of life…will the two of you be able to bestow that knowledge upon your child? What it means to be Vulcan?”

“Mr. Tucker and I have discussed these matters, Sir,” T’Pol stated matter-of-factly. “He and I believe that, although the task may prove difficult, we will achieve success. Our child will learn about both cultures of its ancestry.”

Soval stared back at her, unwavering. “There will be some who will refuse to accept this marriage,” he stated sternly. “There will be some who will not recognize the child as true Vulcan.”

T’Pol blinked and gazed down at the pale yellow tiles along the hallway floor, his words affecting her. She swallowed hard, sensing an inner strength, and then glanced upward confidently. “We are fully aware of these facts, Sir. We simply refuse to let those who wish to deny our union become a deterrent.”

“Your determination is admirable, T’Pol,” Soval replied genuinely. “In my brief experience with Mr. Tucker, I must admit that I found him to be…an honorable human. I will support you in any way I can.”

T’Pol raised an eyebrow. “Thank you, Ambassador.”

“You should probably find your place in line,” he suggested. “I believe your groom is waiting.”

“Yes, that is most likely so. I will proceed.” T’Pol lowered her head in respect and then made her way to the procession, which had begun moving in perfect unison toward the yard. She joined them, taking her place in the column behind the Vulcan priest, and prepared herself for an impending marriage to Charles Tucker III.

Back along the east side of T’Les’s residence, Trip began to feel the heat of the warm afternoon. He paced back and forth and pulled at his garments in an effort to create some airflow to his skin. The young man was handsomely dressed in the very same Vulcan robes he wore during T’Pol’s previous marriage ceremony. He sensed an edgy aura circumvent around him. Trip felt everyone’s eyes upon him without even looking. He felt the stares of the onlookers who were sizing up the human with an unforgiving glare. The Vulcans seemed to surround him; their disapproval and silent rejection of this ceremony plainly evident. Or at least it was to Trip, who somehow seemed to suddenly possess a strong sense of their simmering emotions. He stood waiting patiently; his head bowed politely, with hands folded cordially in a gentle clasp.

The gongs sounded out in a rhythmic drone, echoing continuously through Trip’s eardrums as he knelt down awaiting the arrival of his bride. Off in the near distance, the procession came into view with the eldest priest leading the way. The line moved gracefully along the walkway, as Trip anxiously scanned the many faces, searching for T’Pol. A small crowd had already huddled outside, quietly awaiting the controversial wedding. The acquaintances of T’Les were attending out of respect, but Trip found their presence of little comfort. He shifted slightly and turned his head from side to side, noting their continuous leers, and then suddenly felt slightly queasy. The air was thick with an uneasy tension that felt almost eerie to him. No doubt about it, Trip Tucker was a duck out of water or more appropriately, he was a spaceship engineer without a vessel.

Trip’s eyes fell upon the striking figure before him. His heart flopped about excitedly within his chest as their gazes met. T’Pol’s dress was shaded a pale rose with a white-laced veil that delicately traced the curves of her elegant features. The gown flowed divinely over her body and a long train of pink blanketed the path behind her. The Vulcan’s pure beauty left the handsome young man it utter awe. Her face shone down upon him, in molded perfection and radiance. The nervous anxiety Trip had felt was instantly swept away as he and T’Pol connected once more, oblivious to the discountenance of the others. She moved silently to kneel before him and extended a hand. Trip reached out and grazed her fingers, pressing his skin gently to hers. The priest began to recite the ceremonial words, his voice a distant utterance to the couple’s ears. Trip’s eyes penetrated hers and his mind was entranced with pure love for his mate. He smiled tenderly as he sensed T’Pol completely for a fleeting moment. The bond they already shared grew deeper, more compelling and efficacious. Their union was now formal and complete.

Several hours passed quietly. The Vulcans who had been in attendance earlier were now gone, leaving the newly wedded couple alone for the first time all day. T’Pol was still wearing her gown as she sat in silent contemplation on the curved wooden chair in the living room. Trip ran his eyes along her softened features and sensed something rise in him. He stepped casually toward her and sat down gently on the soft carpeting beside his new wife. “I just wanted to tell you…you look beautiful today…absolutely stunnin’,” he whispered sincerely.

T’Pol peered over at him and spoke softly. “Come closer,” she whispered. Trip smiled gently and slid along the rug, rising to his knees. The two were suddenly at eye level with one another. The Vulcan placed her hand on Trip’s cheek and tenderly glided her fingers down the side of his face. He tipped his head in response to her touch, leaning willingly into the caress. She grabbed at his robes swiftly and began fumbling for the buttons on his shirt. Trip cupped a hand around hers, pressing lightly against her skin, and guided her alluringly along each rounded piece. His fingers were wrapped delicately around hers, as the two proceeded unfastening the buttons one at a time. They moved together in synchrony at a deliberate and leisurely pace, their eyes mutually locked. Trip felt an immediate surge of excitement. His heart pounded forcefully. His palms were sweaty. Blood rushed to his face. He felt weakened and yet somehow he still raged with a smoldering passion. T’Pol ran her fingers along the top of Trip’s chest and slid the shirt delicately over the shoulders of her partner. The garment fell softly to the floor, leaving the Vulcan’s new husband bare-chested before her.

T’Pol’s hand reached out cautiously toward her mate and landed tenderly upon his neck. She slid her fingers carefully down toward his heart and stopped abruptly, noting a rapid throbbing from beneath his sternum. The Vulcan raised an eyebrow and blinked knowingly, finding it rather pleasing that she had this effect on her human partner. Trip stared back at her. His mouth was hung open slightly. His pupils were completely enlarged; the cool blue color of his eyes left only a mere outline to the expanding ebony, as his arousal heightened. T’Pol rubbed her palms in a circular motion against his skin and felt the contours of his muscles. She felt the fine tufts of newly grown hair that lay upon his chest and sensed his excitement building. Suddenly, Trip lunged for T’Pol, pressing his lips to hers. She fell back briefly into the chair with a soft thump. The Vulcan opened her mouth and allowed Trip to enter, their tongues stroking together fervently in a passionate dance. He felt the softness of her hair through his fingertips as his hands cradled her head tenderly. They lay together, his body atop hers in the chair, kissing with a heated desire.

“Mmm…” Trip stopped unexpectedly and rolled off to the side. He put a hand to T’Pol’s belly, still breathing heavily. “We can’t…I don’t wanna hurt the baby,” he stammered.

“There is no need to worry, Trip. Dr. Phlox assured me that this would be perfectly safe. The amniotic fluid sufficiently cushions the baby. This…” she motioned with her hands back and forth between them, indicating their previous actions, “poses no danger to our child.”

Trip smiled, appreciating her new-found tactfulness, and placed his hands carefully beneath the Vulcan, scooping her up swiftly. He held T’Pol firmly and lovingly in his arms, slowly lowering his mouth to her face as the two made their way toward a nearby bedroom.

Darkness had fallen outside. A gentle breeze blew softly from an adjacent window left slightly ajar. Faint light streamed through the small openings of the blinds, illuminating the approaching figures in a delicate indigo hue. The shadowy forms fell gently upon the bed, their bodies pressed together in a sturdy embrace. T’Pol felt the warm touch of her mate’s lips caressing her face. She felt the small, tender kisses he planted skillfully upon her forehead, cheeks and mouth. Trip was a kind and considerate lover. He moved with an expert precision, slowly and sensitively, allowing T’Pol to savor each precious moment. His hands worked cautiously to shed her clothing. The young man removed each layer piece by piece, smiling softly from above her. T’Pol moved her hands to Trip’s waist, searching for the buckle of her partner’s belt. She released the clasp and undid his pants, pushing the garment to the edge of the bed. It fell to the floor with a diffused thump, landing quietly in the center of the growing pile.

T’Pol stared into Trip’s eyes. Their gazes froze together, making the Vulcan’s heartbeat accelerate quickly. She heard the beating in her ears, felt the pulsing throughout her body and knew of her desire for him. It was a desire that she permitted to overcome her in that moment. A desire to touch every small part of his body as if it belonged to her, a desire to know every inch of him… She wanted to recognize the bumps and crevices. She wanted to know of every slight flaw, to know the shape of every scar and embrace his imperfections. She wanted to have him and hold him and cling to the contours of his handsome and lean figure. T’Pol glided her fingers down his chest, grazing the thick skin of his healed wounds gently and found her way to the top of his underwear. She slid a hand beneath the band and lowered his briefs carefully, leaving Trip completely naked along side of her. She gazed at his body with admiration. From the errant strands of dark blond hair to the tip of his big toe, Trip Tucker was indeed a beautiful human. And even T’Pol’s stoic Vulcan demeanor couldn’t suppress the pleasure she felt when looking at him. She couldn’t deny the handsome features of his face, the delicate tone of his cerulean eyes or the delicious curves of his hardened muscles.

Trip moved along the sheets and took T’Pol into his arms. The two embraced with arms wrapped tightly around one another. The Vulcan’s legs curled around the human’s waist; their bodies brought together as one. Trip’s warmth and scent invaded T’Pol’s senses. The soft, masculine odor of her mate permeated the air and filled her sensitive nasal passages. She shuddered lightly at the familiar smell that was Trip. His body pressed against hers and squeezed lightly. She needed to be closer to him, to feel his soul within her, to caress his mind with hers and know of his thoughts.

Trip turned T’Pol’s body over gently and lay atop her, careful not to place much pressure on her abdomen. The two kissed with passion and tenderness for a long moment. Trip could feel her heart beating beneath his chest, with a steady and quickening pace. The newlyweds parted their lips; their faces mere inches apart, as Trip breathed softly down onto T’Pol. She was so close to him that she felt the warm touch of the expelled air upon her skin. It tickled and tingled along her features, causing her body to quiver with pleasure. T’Pol allowed herself to feel the pleasure, a physical pleasure shared by the two lovers. Suppression would have to come later because, for this brief moment in her Vulcan life, T’Pol wanted to know of love.

Trip’s hands ran tenderly along her upper body, moving carefully to her breasts. He caressed the skin delicately, his thumbs gently circling her hardened nipples. She trembled at his touch and felt a firm hardness pushing against her torso. Her legs opened in an instinctive response, as she permitted his entrance into her. Trip slid along the passages of T’Pol’s body with gentle, rhythmic thrusts. He closed his eyes and felt the ecstasy of their unified motions, the pleasure of this moment immeasurable to him. Time stood still as Trip savored the feelings that ravaged his body. He floated freely, releasing all inhibitions, and allowed himself to be completely known to her. No struggling, no tension, no fears…He felt only a complete trust in his mate. She was a kindred spirit, an eternal soul mate, a friend, a lover and now a partner for life. They were born into the universe from different worlds and raised by their ancestors with different cultures. And, yet somehow Trip knew from the first moment he laid eyes on T’Pol that there could be no one else.

T’Pol moaned softly from beneath him, startling the former starship engineer’s eyes open. He scanned her face with a knowing look. Her features had softened in a way he’d never seen before. She closed her eyes serenely with each successive grind of their hips, appreciative of the sensations it gave her. The smooth and moist interior walls of her body defined the shape and hardness of his organ, squeezing him softly with each delicate penetration. Trip felt the pleasure crescendo within him as he abruptly quickened his pace. It rose carefully, nearing the surface more and more with each passing second. He glanced down at T’Pol and stopped abruptly. She looked back at him silently, raising an eyebrow in confusion. He caressed her face tenderly and delicately placed a soft, loving kiss upon her mouth. He looked down at her and smiled sweetly, feeling a huge rush of pleasure fill his entire body. Trip relished in the moment briefly and then resumed his gentle, yet passionate propulsions into her. The sensations began to rise rapidly to an apex. He grunted quietly as several successive jolts of ecstatic bliss embodied his entire being. He felt T’Pol shudder beneath him, her climax merely seconds behind his. He closed his eyes, feeling the sticky, wet aftermath of their lovemaking and collapsed in exhaustion into T’Pol’s arms.

After a moment, Trip opened his eyes and viewed the contours of T’Pol’s breast, his head tucked neatly between her cleavages. He sighed softly in complete relaxation. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven, Darlin’.”

T’Pol cleared her throat. “It is most agreeable, Trip, that you have had a pleasurable experience.”

Trip chuckled in amusement, smiling broadly against her skin. “Have I told you lately how much I love you, T’Pol?”

“Well,” she quipped, “It has been several weeks.”

“You know,” he pondered thoughtfully, changing the subject. “I’ve been wondering about somethin’…It’s probably a little late to be bringing it up now, but…I thought Vulcans could only do this every seven years.”

“You mean our mating cycles?”

“Well, yeah,” Trip stammered, blushing slightly.

T’Pol was quiet, in pensive thought. “We only need to have relations every seven years. We are capable at any time, but it is not necessary.”

“Whew…that sure is a relief, Darlin’,” Trip smiled, speaking softly. “I’d hate to have to keep waitin’ seven years to hold you in my arms.” His face lit up excitedly as he turned his head to face her. “Let’s get out of here,” he suggested enthusiastically.

T’Pol blinked back at him, somewhat surprised. “You mean, now? It is completely dark outside.”

Trip bounced out of bed, unable to stifle his contented smile, and clasped firmly onto T’Pol’s hands. “There’s no time like the present, Darlin’… C’mon…” He tugged slightly at her fingers, attempting to convince her. There was an air about him that seemed unknown and unfamiliar, an electric happiness she had not seen before.

“Very well,” she relented. “Where exactly are we going?”

He grinned devilishly, reaching for his pants. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

She gazed at him inquisitively with furrowed eyebrows. “Hmm…” she mused, contemplating his words. You always keep me guessing.

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The rocks along the hill shifted slightly after Trip Tucker exerted the weight of his feet upon them. He reached behind him and extended a hand toward T’Pol, grasping tightly onto her fingers. With the help of his balancing grip, the two made their way further and further up the steep incline. The night air was quiet and peaceful, save for the sounds of the human and Vulcan as they ascended carefully toward their destination.

Trip glanced back at T’Pol, slightly concerned. “You aren’t exerting yourself too much are you? I mean…this is a bit of an exercise.”

“The effort has caused me no disharmony thus far,” she whispered, with a sigh. “Are you going to be like this for my entire pregnancy?”

Trip stopped walking and looked back at her, in surprise. “Like what?”

“So completely…overprotective.” She steeled herself from a simmering irritation. “I certainly hope that after the child is born you will…learn to let your instincts guide you.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doin’ right now. I just want you and our baby to be safe.”

She rolled her eyes with resignation. “I suppose it is…understandable… The next four months may very well pass by at… an extremely slow pace.” Her words were edged with a slight hint of flippancy. Through the darkness, she noted a twinkle in Trip’s eyes. It was a look she recognized well, even in the dead of the night.

“Just doin’ my job, T’Pol.”

The Vulcan nodded in acknowledgement as the couple came to rest atop the fire plains. Trip gazed out at the vast expanse of rocks and statues that spread along the land below them. Smoke billowed up into the air; a result of the smoldering heat escaping from the lava field. The orange hue Trip remembered was no longer visible in the darkness, its vivid color replaced by the softened phosphorescence of the night. The young man took a deep breath and coughed slightly. “It sure is beautiful up here.”

“You may be surprised to discover that the area is a great deal brighter during the daylight.”

“Well, maybe we could stay here all night and watch the new day begin,” Trip suggested, his face still aglow.

T’Pol ran her eyes along Trip’s features. She took in the look of wonderment he wore proudly, noticing the sparkle of his eyes and the hint of a smile. His features beamed through the darkened sky with a soft clarity. She felt something stir inside her once more and turned away, stepping back hastily.

“Is somethin’ wrong?” Trip questioned.

T’Pol gulped and glanced up at him, briefly making eye contact, and then quickly returned her gaze to the hard rocks beneath her feet. “What is happening to me?” she wondered aloud. He moved closer, sensing her rising discomfort.

“Could it be that you’re in love?” he questioned teasingly, his face beaming.

T’Pol clenched her features tightly. “I am Vulcan. We do not fall…in love.”

Trip smiled softly and spoke sincerely. “Then why are you here? Why are we married? Why are you goin’ to have my baby?” T’Pol’s hazel eyes burned through him like a fire on a windswept breeze. There were times when he could see through her, times when he recognized the slight twitch of her mouth or the shimmer in her eyes…This was a look he didn’t know and didn’t particularly like.

“I must regain my control,” she stated calmly, her words measured and firm.

Trip nodded in agreement and spoke gently. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.” He paused, noting the softening expression of her face. “But, in the same regard, maybe you should listen to what your mother told you…Maybe you should understand and accept who you are. A Vulcan…yes…but a Vulcan who can be a bit more emotional than others… It’s who you are, T’Pol. When are you goin’ to embrace that?”

“How can I, Trip? How can I when I must instill the Vulcan culture into our child? It will be my responsibility to nurture that heritage.”

“And what about me, T’Pol? What about the child’s human heritage? We have to find a balance, remember?” Trip crossed his arms defensively and rubbed his shoe lightly back and forth along the hardened surface below. “I want our child to understand that he…or she is equally Vulcan and Human. It’s about teamwork…parenting is teamwork. And we’ve always made a helluva team, haven’t we?”

His words resonated with truths. She tilted her head in acceptance. “Indeed…I apologize. Your wish for our child is the same as mine…It will be difficult…for us…and for the child.”

“Yes…” Trip stopped talking and laid a hand softly upon T’Pol’s protruding belly. He rubbed her abdomen tenderly, his eyes fixed upon the small, rounded bulge. “But it will be worth it.” Their eyes met and lingered for a moment with a shared understanding. Trip’s fingers slid down T’Pol’s waist and clasped onto her hand. The wedded pair sat down upon the rocky surface and stared out into the boundless, open stretch of Vulcan.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me that your mom left you her house?” Trip questioned, with curiosity.

“I did not believe it to be relevant… I had intended to sell the residence immediately.”

“But, you didn’t…You never did,” he sighed softly. “Maybe you just weren’t ready to let go…”

“Perhaps…” She paused for a moment, considering his words. “Mother was indeed very gracious. The sum of money she willed to me should sufficiently take care of our needs for at least one year.” She fell silent briefly and noted the sudden somber expression spreading across her new husband’s face. T’Pol sensed a slightly remorseful twinge wash over her mate. “You are hurting about something,” the Vulcan declared. “You will never find true contentment without some type of work, will you? Work involving engines…” Trip glanced up at her and blinked softly, not speaking for a moment. He sighed quietly and flashed a gentle and appeasing smile.

“It was time for a change, T’Pol. Besides, Doc said I can’t be flyin’ around space with my condition…”

“I never said anything about space…and there was that procedure Phlox suggested…”

“The lung transplant?” Trip interrupted. “I don’t know…I mean…I feel fine. I don’t have too many restrictions. Still get a little winded sometimes…I think the Doc just didn’t know what kind of effect the expanse might have on me.” He smiled coyly. “The lungs certainly didn’t slow me down earlier, did they?”

T’Pol raised an eyebrow. “Apparently not.” Trip slid along the rocks and pressed lightly into his mate. They sat together in silence listening to the quiet hum of the night. A delicate blue tinge outlined Trip’s face, capturing his soft and handsome features. The Vulcan traced the curves and slopes of his profile, finding it increasingly difficult to pry her eyes away from him. Several blonde hairs blew gently in the breeze as he peered out across the fire plains. His eyelashes curled up slightly along the lids; a golden sparkle tracing his eyes. It was too dark to see their blueness, too dark to make out the cool, ocean-colored hue that embraced the windows of his soul. T’Pol had never told him, but Trip’s eyes were her favorite part of his face. One glance into them had almost always stirred something inside her…something primal and instinctive. T’Pol moved her gaze downward and rested her eyes upon the curved pink flesh of Trip’s mouth. Her lips panged in response, aching for the familiar and pleasant taste of his mouth. She leaned in slowly, startling him briefly, and kissed him tenderly. The warm air of the night blew across her face as their tongues glided slowly and gently together. It wasn’t heated or even passionate, but rather it was comforting and relaxing and pleasantly familiar. They broke apart and T’Pol allowed her head to sink carefully down upon his chest. She looked off into the distance, safely cradled in Trip’s arms, and closed her eyes. She felt the firm, muscular tones of his body encircling her. His hands were locked along her back; his fingers pushing down serenely along her spine. T’Pol let herself fall into the peacefulness of his protective clasp and quietly dozed off. Several hours passed. T’Pol’s eyes opened slowly. She felt the tranquility of Trip’s embrace and breathed in the sweet smell of his scent. She realized that she must have fallen asleep in her mate’s gentle clutch. Along the horizon, light was just beginning to break, showering the land with countless rays of titian brilliance. The numerous beacons of brightness danced along the ground with a glowing spectrum of yellow, gold and orange. Trip blinked and gazed down at T’Pol.

“You fell asleep,” he whispered.

“Yes…I must have been fatigued from the events of the day.”

Trip smiled, the colors of his face more visible now in the growing light. “It’s nearly daybreak. We should get back. I stink like hell and need a shower. And, aside from that, my ass is killin’ me. This isn’t exactly soft ground we’re sittin’ on, especially with a pregnant Vulcan in your lap for three hours…”

“Very well,” T’Pol returned, unfazed. She struggled carefully to her feet, pressing a hand to his shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

“Home…” Trip echoed her words. “The word sure does have a pretty ring to it, doesn’t it, T’Pol? Yes…let’s go home…”

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Darkness pervaded the tiny, enclosed space with an infinite black, the ebony color so boundless and unending that it transcended anything which may have otherwise been visible. At the abandonment of sight, the small, restless form heightened its other senses with a concerted effort. It pressed out its limbs and pushed into the surrounding walls of tissue that protectively encased the small life form. A foot kicked into the taught confinement and rebounded backwards, sending the unborn child into a floating spin. The baby circled around effortlessly, stretching its arms and legs with continuous, instinctive motions. There was a low-pitched rhythmic sound. It pulsated loudly over and over in the baby’s ears. The thumping vibrated strongly, soothing the infant with a familiar presence. The small child halted its motions momentarily and listened to the beating of its mother’s heart. The sound resonated as the baby struggled to put a hand to its face. A tiny finger slipped into the Vulcan-Human hybrid’s mouth, allowing the infant to suck its thumb contentedly. The echoes of life thumped vigorously and the unborn child closed its eyes in peaceful tranquility.

Suddenly, there was a tight squeeze; a forceful and uncomfortable clenching. The baby pressed against the walls of the womb and was forced slightly downward. It moved along its mother’s birth canal in a small, measured amount. And, as quickly as the compressions had begun, the pressure was abruptly released. The muscles relaxed once more, allowing the infant to rest. The cycle continued repeatedly, as the child of Charles Tucker III and T’Pol came closer and closer to being born.

Gazing ahead through blurry vision, the baby saw something unfamiliar. Light burned into the infant’s eyes as it pressed forward, approaching the small, rounded opening. Its head contorted tightly into the passageway and a hand grasped firmly around its skull. The fingers worked delicately to gently twist the child’s face free. Cold air streamed across the small features of this new life, causing the infant to protest loudly.

“It is certainly apparent that this child has human genes,” T’Pol quipped. She lay on her back, in the very last stages of labor, trying to convince herself that this eventful happening was not painful. Trip stood beside the bed, peering excitedly over at the Vulcan Doctor that carefully held onto his baby’s head. “Not even born yet and already crying… I shall have my work cut out for me,” she added, squeezing Trip’s hand tighter. The young man grinned and gazed back at her.

“Those ears look pointed, T’Pol.” Trip squinted and pushed up on his toes, trying to get a better view. “I can’t quite make them out, but they sure look Vulcan from here.”

“It is most likely a dominant gene,” she informed him matter-of-factly. There was another jolt of excruciating pain as the remainder of the baby slipped out easily into the Doctor’s hands. T’Pol slumped down on the bed in exhaustion, with a careful eye still watching the physician. He wiped the child’s mouth and face diligently as its screams echoed loudly throughout the room. The elder Vulcan placed the baby carefully onto T’Pol’s chest, the umbilical cord still attached.

“Mother and child need to bond,” the doctor declared stoically. Trip was finding it difficult to contain his excitement.

“What is it? What is it? What is it?” he questioned repeatedly, drawing a stern look from the Vulcan. The doctor placed a hand gently upon the squirming child’s leg and carefully spread it open.

“It is a male infant,” he informed them.

Trip’s eyes widened. He felt a surge of emotions rush over him. A Boy! I have a son! Feelings of exuberance and pride overwhelmed him as he gazed down at his newborn laying upon the chest of his mother. Their bodies pressed together lightly, embracing one another’s skin, still as one. The doctor handed Trip a pair of medical shears. “Place the cut right here,” he ordered, gesturing to the correct area of the cord. Trip looked to T’Pol nervously. She nodded her head slightly in approval. The new father gulped and focused on the long cord that connected his son to his wife. He placed the scissors carefully along the tissue and squeezed his fingers, gently releasing the baby from his mother. Trip glanced up at T’Pol, admiring this achievement. As their eyes met, Trip felt the bond intensely. It was powerful, unified and enduring. He sensed T’Pol’s strength and he felt her pride.

“Charles Tucker IV,” T’Pol declared earnestly, not breaking their gaze. Trip’s mouth quivered. He swallowed hard, licking his lips.

“You want to name him after me?”

“You are his father. It is the only logical choice. And it is a family tradition, correct?”

“Yes…but I didn’t expect you to…”

“Come here,” she interrupted. “Come and hold your son.”

Trip blinked, almost dazed, and slowly approached the bed. A nurse lifted the baby from T’Pol and quickly wrapped him tightly with a soft blanket. The Vulcan attendant placed the baby gently into Trip’s arms and walked out of the room with a quiet stare. Trip gazed down at the little one with wonder and awe. The baby spread his lips apart and stretched his mouth open, contorting his face slightly into an innocent yawn. Tiny, swollen eyes flickered slowly with a great effort. The small child stared fearlessly at the large face that looked down upon him. Trip admired the squirming bundle, taking in every small feature of the newborn’s face and locking it permanently into his memory. Beneath the miniature eyelids, there was no hint of blue, but rather a darkened shade of green tinged slightly with brown. Wavy, thick, sand-colored hair covered the baby’s head with soft, curly tufts. His ears were pressed tightly to the side of his face, somewhat large for his teeny head, and decisively pointed at the tips. The baby felt warm with life in Trip’s careful clutch. Charles Tucker IV…my son…The new father smiled at his child and spoke in a hushed tone. “Hey, little guy…I’m your daddy… There’s a lot your mother and I need to teach you…” He placed a finger on the child’s forehead and caressed his face lovingly. “Let’s see…” Trip thought carefully. “You’ll need to read the Kir’Shara…It’s an important book that teaches you all about bein’ a Vulcan and what it means to be Vulcan…And then your mom can teach you how to meditate…but no candles, son, until you’re older. I wouldn’t want you to burn yourself…And I can tell you all about Earth…That’s the planet I came from. Maybe we could visit there sometime and meet your grandma and grandpa. They’re just gonna love you, little Charles Tucker IV…You know, we’re gonna have to come up with some nickname for you…Charles is a bit formal and long…but that may take some time until we get to know you a little better and find out what you’re like…”

T’Pol stared over at Trip, watching in muted amusement as he chatted endlessly to their half-hour old infant. The rest of the world seemed lost to the human in that moment. It was only father and son. The Vulcan found a soothing comfort and serenity hearing Trip’s tender voice. There was a quiet satisfaction in listening to him impart his wisdom upon their newborn child. T’Pol sighed peacefully, knowing her son was safe in Trip’s arms, and closed her eyes. The sound of gurgling echoed delicately through the air. The gentle tone of Trip’s soft words fell over the Vulcan, filling her with a secure contentment. She knew when she opened her eyes again, Trip would be there. He would hold her hand and smile down at her as he always did. The three were a family now. It was simple. It was pure. And it was logical.

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I’m thinking I’ll probably just end it here. It would be hard to write anything more without it being total fluff…
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A whole mess of folks have made comments

Great Story .. Love every word! made my day.

Really good, I enjoyed both this one and Eternal linkage a lot. I can't wait to read more of your stuff

yes it is fluffy, but it's the best kind of fluff, a happy ending. One comment though, if they've been together for six years etc, assumingly in a relationship, how could they have that conversation
re frequency of sexual relations:

“You know,” he pondered thoughtfully, changing the subject. “I’ve been wondering about somethin’…It’s probably a little late to be bringing it up now, but…I thought Vulcans could only do this every seven years.”

“You mean our mating cycles?”

“Well, yeah,” Trip stammered, blushing slightly.

T’Pol was quiet, in pensive thought. “We only need to have relations every seven years. We are capable at any time, but it is not necessary.”

“Whew…that sure is a relief, Darlin’,” Trip smiled, speaking softly. “I’d hate to have to keep waitin’ seven years to hold you in my arms.”

Really good, I enjoyed both this one and Eternal linkage a lot. I can't wait to read more of your stuff

No of course you're right they wouldn't have just been holding hands for six years. Certainly Trip knew that they could do the deed more than once every seven years. He just wanted T'Pol's "official" explanation of it. He's such an inquisitive fellow about that type of thing...And as far as that line goes...well that's just Trip being Trip. That's what his voice said to me, so that's what I wrote. Sigh...the pains of an amateur writer...

Wow wonderfull follow up.
And Fluff is always good.

aw so sweet.

Thanks for sending me the link! Loved it, was really well written. I really like angst, but every now and then you need some fluff, and this was the best kind!

Very nice...

Very sweet, but if they've been in a relationship for six years, I also find T'pol's struggle with a balance between emotional control and love for Trip to be a little late in the game... Just like STC's comment about their mating frequency conversation... but whenever the issue is addressed, it is something that they'd need to work out. The dialog is very well-done... I just don't think it quite meshes with the timeline of their relationship as you've written it.

I personally think T'Pol will always struggle to find this balance. I guess the TATV timeline came back to get me... Aside from that though, did anyone like the writing?

Great story and very well written. I hope you will continue this. Thank you.

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