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...Touching and Touched - Part 8


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...Touching and Touched

by Hopeful Romantic

Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Star Trek: Enterprise is the property of CBS/Paramount. All song lyrics are the property and copyright of their respective rights holders. No infringement is intended, nor is any profit sought from their inclusion. All original material herein is the property of its author.

A/N: Lots of acknowledgments for this chapter! Thanks to pookha, for making a little suggestion about a character, with which I happily had a ton o’ fun. Also to tennisgirl for sharing a what-if musing with me that was so lovely, it became the basis for a scene herein. And to persianmouse, whose self-professed geeky obsession with etymology back in June of 2005 led me to a discovery about my sweetie Lorian—several months before the Season 3 DVDs spilled the info to the whole world—and inspired another scene. Finally, thanks to the late, great Vulcan Language Institute, a wonderful information resource I used for this and other chapters.

Thanks, as always, to my terrific betas Jenna, Stephanie, and TJinLOCA.

Song credits:
Heart and Soul - lyrics by Frank Loesser
Blue Skies - Irving Berlin
Once Upon a Dream - lyrics by Sammy Fain and Jack Lawrence
The Other Side - David Gray

Date: 2-23-06

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Part Eight


Chapter 10: Let’s Face the Music and Dance


As it turned out, the wedding party was the last group to leave Enterprise. They had to wait for all the guests’ ships to be moved out of the launch bay before Shuttlepod One had a clear path for departure. Archer wasn’t complaining, of course; it wouldn’t do for the newlyweds to show up at their surprise reception before everyone else had arrived.

As the extended Family—the senior Tuckers included—waited in the corridor outside the launch bay, the extra few minutes gave Karyn and Lorian a chance to admire each other’s wedding outfits. Catherine wished that guy with the camera had followed them here. Lorian’s face, as he got his first real look at the delicately alluring construction of Karyn’s gown, was priceless.

Karyn cooed appreciatively at the rich ivory brocade and intricate blue embroidery of Lorian’s outer robe. “Where did Soval find these?”

Lorian struggled to tear his eyes away from the enticing view of Karyn’s décolletage. “These were the ambassador’s own wedding robes.”

“He saved them all these years? How romantic!” Karyn took a step back, to better show off her gown. “This is an heirloom, too. It was Esilia’s wedding dress.” She turned slowly, giving Lorian a generous view of her hips, covered only by the thin latticework of blue lacing, then stopped with her back to him. “You see how it’s designed to show off the spinal ridges?”

Lorian didn’t answer...not with his voice, anyway. Instead, Karyn felt a burst of emotion from him—desire that flowed through her in a warm, tingling wave. His eyes were lingering on the lacing that exposed her faintly ridged spine, all the way down to the curve of her derrière, where the soft fabric clung delectably to her figure until the skirt billowed forth at the hipline. She could tell he was struggling to maintain his Vulcan composure.

She smiled invitingly over her shoulder at him. “I sense that you like it,” she said softly.

His eyes flew up to meet hers, and he blushed. “The design is...quite...”

“Sexy?” she suggested.

He looked away as his blush deepened, and she felt his desire intensify. “That is not what I was going to say.” He hesitated, then frowned and swallowed. “I do not recall what I was going to say.”

She turned to face him again, giving him another eyeful of her low-cut bodice. “You wouldn’t believe how long it took me to get into this,” she said, her voice low and silky.

He found himself staring at the lacings between her breasts. He blinked, forcing himself to focus on her face. “I can imagine.”

“I’m counting on you to get me out of it much more efficiently,” she added.

He arched an eyebrow at her. “You are incorrigible.”

She smiled. “Just giving you something to look forward to.”

He slipped his arms around her waist. “Unnecessary. I am already looking forward to tonight, my bondmate-to-be.”

Karyn felt a shift in his emotion, from lustful to loving. How rare must it be for a non-Vulcan woman, telepathically null, to be given these fleeting glimpses into the heart of her beloved? She was amazed all over again at the unique circumstances that had forged the empathic link between them...as unique as Lorian himself.

As his emotional resonance faded, Karyn felt the loss more keenly than ever. She longed to feel his presence with her always...but not even Soval could say what form their bond would take. She could only wait, and hope.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Archer landed the shuttlepod at the San Francisco shuttleport rather than at Starfleet, explaining that he needed to make a stop on the way. As to where, or for what, he was less than forthcoming.

Karyn peered over his shoulder from the back seat as he navigated the ground car north, with the bay in glorious view off to the right. “We’re not headed inland,” she observed. “That rules out Golden Gate Park.”

Archer rolled his eyes. “I should’ve known better than to let a pilot sit in the back seat.”

“Fisherman’s Wharf?” she prompted. “Ghirardelli Square?”

“It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

T’Pol and Trip were in the back, next to Lorian and Karyn. “You would do well to teach her some meditation techniques,” T’Pol remarked to her son.

“I have endeavored to do so,” Lorian replied. “However, she is far too boisterous most of the time.”

“At least give us a hint,” Karyn persisted, still at Archer’s shoulder.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “If you keep hovering like that, I might just skip the surprise altogether.”

“Okay, okay.” Reluctantly, Karyn settled back in her seat. “Sitting back, shutting up.”

Archer nodded. “That’s better.”

Trip observed Karyn’s quiescence with admiration. “That’s a pretty neat trick,” he commented to Archer.

“Indeed,” Lorian agreed. “I shall remember this strategy in future.”

Karyn’s mouth fell open in mute protest. Chuck’s muffled laughter, coming from the front seat, didn’t help. Catherine punched her husband in the arm to quiet him, as a scowl darkened Karyn’s beautiful features. “I’m putting up with three Tucker men teasing me,” she told Archer. “Have mercy.”

“All right,” Archer relented with a chuckle. “I’m swinging by that jazz club where you and Lorian took us all, before we left for Vulcan. The one a few blocks from Broadway.”

“Callahan’s?” Lorian asked.

“That’s the place,” Archer said. “Callahan was kind enough to set aside a few hand-picked bottles of champagne for me, for the reception.”

“You went there a lot when you were courting, didn’t you?” Trip asked the kids.

Karyn snuggled closer to her new husband. “We had our first date there...our first dance...”

“Our duties on Columbia have kept us away for some time,” Lorian admitted.

“Then why not stop in with me?” Archer suggested casually. “You can tell Callahan the good news.”

“And show off your clothes,” Catherine enthused. Karyn smiled.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As the group alighted outside Callahan’s, Archer spotted the security detachment he’d asked Reed to deploy, already standing watch. They wore civilian dress to avoid drawing undue attention, and were scattered strategically around the perimeter of the club, on the lookout for xenophobes and any other would-be rabble-rousers.

As soon as the security personnel saw the wedding party, they unobtrusively turned away, melting into the scenery to keep from spoiling the surprise. Reed met Archer’s eyes and gave him a small nod before turning away as well.

-- -- --

The front dining room was quiet and empty except for a corner booth, where Kyle sat with Callahan, a pile of invoices spread out before them to make it look as if they were working. They both looked up as the door opened, spilling late-afternoon sunlight across their table, revealing the silhouette of Captain Jonathan Archer.

Kyle was all ready to play the role of surprised employee. But when she actually saw Lorian and Karyn, entering hand-in-hand behind the captain, she forgot all about her carefully prepared reaction. She’d never seen Vulcan robes look so good on a man before. And Karyn’s wedding gown was stunning, not to mention sexy as hell. “Oh my God, who said you were coming, too?” Kyle sputtered happily. “You’re gorgeous! Like you walked right out of a storybook!”

Karyn smiled shyly, while Lorian’s eyes twinkled at the compliments. Kyle looked expectantly from one to the other. “So? Are you married?”

They nodded together. Honestly, they were so cute. “Captain Archer performed the ceremony a short while ago,” Lorian replied.

“Congratulations!” Callahan boomed, shaking Lorian’s hand and giving Karyn a peck on the cheek. He surveyed the rest of the arrivals. “I see the captain brought a whole carload o’ folks to tote his champagne.”

Archer made introductions all around. Kyle saw that he was back in uniform, but it was a different style than the one in all the pictures she’d seen. Classier. It made him look even more handsome, if that was possible. It fit him like a glove, showing off his toned, muscular physique, his broad shoulders and trim waist, his gorgeous ass—

Whoa, where had that come from?

Kyle shook her head. Trying to shake some sense back into it, she supposed. What was she thinking? She wasn’t thinking, that was the problem. Never mind that Jonathan Archer was the most famous man on the planet. He was taken—his heart already spoken for, given long ago to his career.

Commander Tucker had brought his parents. They were both friendly, folksy, and quite human, but Catherine was far too young to be Lorian’s mother, which shot to hell Kyle and Callahan’s hypothesis that Tucker and Lorian might be half-brothers. Kyle knew only that Lorian and Karyn had described Tucker as “family,” but nobody in this bunch ever filled in details.

Callahan shook hands with Chuck and Catherine. “Your son’s a mighty fine dancer. I don’t suppose you two had anything to do with that?”

“We only taught him everything he knows,” Chuck replied modestly.

Callahan turned to Catherine, indicating Chuck with a nod of his head. “Does he still take you dancin’?”

“Not nearly enough,” Catherine declared.

Callahan shook his head reproachfully at Chuck. “For shame, sir.”

Chuck looked sidelong at his wife. “I can see we’ll be spending a lotta time at this place while we’re in San Francisco.”

Callahan grinned. “My work is done, then.” He moved on to Lorian and Karyn, proceeding to fuss over them like a proud papa bear.

As Kyle scooped up her decoy paperwork, she noticed Archer watching Callahan with the Lovebirds. The captain seemed happy enough...but wistful too, somehow, as he looked at Karyn. He was with his family, his friends, but Kyle got the impression that he felt terribly alone.

Suddenly, she realized he was looking at her. Those green eyes of his were more beautiful than she remembered.

They exchanged smiles. “Nice outfit,” Kyle said.

“Dress uniform,” Archer said. “Befitting my role as officiator of the wedding.” He nodded toward Kyle’s own ensemble. “I like yours, too.”

With the reception in mind, she had dressed up for the evening, choosing a white silk blouse with lace at the throat and cuffs, topped off by a form-fitting vest of fine Scottish wool in the blue and green hunting plaid of Clan MacMillan. “Thanks,” she replied.

“The family tartan?” At her nod, Archer smiled. “The blue matches your eyes. Very becoming.”

The unexpected compliment gave Kyle a pleasant little flush.

That was all they had time for; the boss was joining them. “So, Callahan,” Archer said, “what have you come up with for me?”

Callahan smiled. “Somethin’ you’re gonna like. Got it on ice in back. Right this way.” Callahan and Kyle crossed to the big double doors that led to the main club room. Callahan beckoned with a meaty paw to the rest of Archer’s group. “Don’t stand on ceremony! I never pass up a chance to show off my place. ‘Sides, the band’s in there settin’ up, and they’ll wanna see the newlyweds.”

The Family joined Callahan, subtly maneuvering to make sure Lorian and Karyn were up front. Kyle and Callahan pushed open the double doors...

...but instead of the deserted club room they were expecting, Lorian and Karyn found themselves facing a snazzily decorated wonderland, filled with wedding guests. There were flowers everywhere, buffet tables laden with hors d’oeuvres, and a magnificent three-tiered wedding cake decorated with pale blue icing that perfectly matched Karyn’s gown. As the band launched into a fanfare, the guests hailed the newlyweds with cheers and applause.

With stunned delight, Lorian and Karyn moved into the crowd of well-wishers. Kyle took her place behind the bar, sending out a phalanx of waiters with trays of champagne—and for the Vulcans and teetotalers, sparkling pla-savas juice, made from a sweet berry native to Vulcan.

As Soval and the rest of the extended Family entered the fray in the newlyweds’ wake, Callahan turned to Archer. “Kinda slapdash, sir, but we got food, drink, great music, and atmosphere to burn. I hope it’ll do.”

Archer laughed softly in disbelief. “It’ll do, Callahan. The place looks marvelous.”

Callahan pointed toward the stage. “That big table up front is for the wedding party. Ya got the run of the place for as long as you need, sir—I closed the joint down for ya. ‘Private party’.”

Archer was overwhelmed. “I didn’t expect you to do all this.”

Callahan shrugged. “Ya didn’t say I couldn’t.”

“At least let me pay for—”

Callahan cut him off firmly. “None o’ that. This is my weddin’ gift to the Lovebirds. Got it?”

Archer nodded in graceful acquiescence. “Got it. And thank you. This means the world to me. For Karyn, and her husband.” As he continued to admire the sumptuous surroundings, his eyes fell on the wedding cake. “That cake alone is...wow.”

Callahan laughed. “Don’t thank me for that. Thank Chef.”

“You have a chef?”

“No no, your Chef,” Callahan said. “From your ship.”

Archer looked again...and he spotted Chef’s tall, angular figure behind the buffet tables. Chef was in classic overseer mode, clad in pristine white, his long blond hair combed back from his patrician features for maximum intimidation, his lips perpetually pursed as his sharp eyes continually swept the impeccably-laid-out hors d’oeuvres trays. At the same time, he watched over the wedding cake like a hawk. How he had gotten the color right, with Karyn’s gown under wraps until the ceremony, Archer had no idea...but Chef had ways, mysterious and inexplicable, for accomplishing such wonders.

Archer turned back to Callahan. “How...?”

Callahan shrugged. “We were puttin’ things together, and—now, I can do food for all kindsa aliens, you name ‘em. Been doin’ it for years. But I was flat outta recipes for a lip-smackin’ vegetarian wedding cake big enough to feed a mess o’ people, that would be ready in three hours.”

“What about the Vulcan embassy?”

Callahan smirked. “I thought o’ them. For about two seconds. Had a good laugh. Then I remembered you had a resident Vulcan on your ship—your Commander T’Pol. So I called up and asked to speak to the galley chef.”

Archer winced. “He prefers simply ‘Chef’.”

Callahan raised a wry eyebrow. “Mmmyeah, I got that from him first thing. That Chef o’ yours, he likes everything just so, don’t he?”

“He is quite the perfectionist,” Archer said diplomatically.

“Tell me, Captain. When you two disagree, who wins?”

Archer frowned thoughtfully. “I’m not sure.” Callahan burst into hearty laughter

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Chef maneuvered past the wedding party’s table, whispering into Trip’s ear as he went by. As if goosed, Trip jumped to his feet. Delicately, he tapped his champagne glass with a fork to get the crowd’s attention. “Time for the toasts! Everybody get a glass of something before the Best Man starts blathering.”

With glasses of champagne and pla-savas juice in hand, the crowd quieted down as Trip faced Lorian and Karyn at the head of the table. “A truer love I have never seen than the love you two have for each other,” he began. “It reminds us all of what love can be, and why it came to be: so two people can still be themselves, but at the same time, be more. They can be part of a greater whole, two halves of one heart, one soul. Love like that lasts forever.” He smiled warmly at the couple as he raised his glass. “To Lorian and Karyn’s forever-love.”

The guests all saluted the newlyweds with their glasses. “To forever-love,” they said in unison. Karyn and Lorian exchanged smiles as they toasted each other and drank.

As waiters smoothly scurried from table to table, topping off glasses, Trip turned to T’Pol. “Your turn.”

She raised an eyebrow questioningly. “I beg your pardon?”

“The Maid of Honor gives a toast, too.”

T’Pol nodded and stood. Silently, she considered, and quickly discarded, several traditional felicitations, until an appropriate toast presented itself, at which point she turned to her son and daughter. Yes...I regard Karyn as a daughter now. The realization pleased her. “For too long, you lived in the shadow of war,” she said to the couple. “You selflessly dedicated your lives to fighting this war, which could have destroyed all that we know. In helping to put an end to it, you found, in each other, a new life together.” She raised her glass. “I wish you peace and long life.”

“Peace and long life,” the guests echoed. Lorian was especially taken by his mother’s artful use of the traditional Vulcan salutation.

Trip looked across the table to Soval. “Perhaps Uncle Soval would care to make a toast?”

Soval shut his eyes briefly, allowing a faint sigh of long-suffering to escape him. Trip almost laughed out loud. “Excuse me. The venerable Ambassador Soval.”

Soval nodded, the very portrait of dignified Vulchritude. “That would be agreeable.”

Alas, no one had checked with Chef. Storm clouds of disapproval were already gathering over his brow as he bustled back to the wedding party’s table. Paying no heed to whatever interstellar incident he might be causing, he hissed quietly to Trip, “Uncles do not make toasts.”

“Well, this one’s gonna,” Trip replied pleasantly, his sunniness keeping the clouds at bay.

“He isn’t even her real uncle,” Chef pointed out indignantly. “Traditionally, only the Best Man and the Maid of Honor—”

“We’re gonna buck tradition, ‘kay?” Trip said, with a smile that was positively Phlox-like.

Chef blanched. Trip might as well have suggested serving an entrée of flayed puppies, or red wine with fish. Now Soval was the one who looked amused—as amused as Vulcans cared to look, at any rate—raising a silver eyebrow with finesse above an almost-but-not-quite smile.

With Chef scandalized into silence, Trip turned calmly back to Soval. “Ambassador, you have the floor.”

The old Vulcan rose smoothly to his feet, his expression thoughtful as he regarded Lorian. He chose his words carefully; there were many in the room who were not privy to E²’s actual, classified history. “I recall the day we first met, Commander. You were troubled by your failure to complete a certain mission during the war. Though we resolved your disquiet during that initial meeting, I have often wondered whether you ever considered the consequences had you achieved success.”

Lorian frowned faintly in puzzlement. “I do not speak of the war itself,” Soval went on, “but of less direct effects, subtle but profound in their own fashion: individuals who would never meet in the future that would have been cut short by your success...couples who would not marry...children who would remain forever unborn.”

With a look of startled realization, Lorian turned to his parents. Soval knew then that the message he was attempting to impart had been understood. If the first Xindi probe’s attack on Earth had been prevented, Commander Tucker would not have been distraught over his dead sister, and in need of neuropressure from T’Pol to ease the nightmares and insomnia that plagued him. T’Pol, in turn, would not have been exposed to trellium-D in the Expanse, and in need of an outlet for her suddenly rampant emotions. Without their mutual afflictions, or their mutual compassion, to draw them closer, the two would likely have remained sparring colleagues, nothing more...especially after T’Pol married Koss.

Soval nodded toward Lorian’s bride. “Soon after I met Lieutenant Archer, for example, I sensed an extraordinary connection between the two of you— unique in my experience, rich and full of promise. It exists solely because you are here...because you did not complete your mission.”

Lorian was gazing at Karyn now, almost overcome, as if he were imagining he’d almost lost her. As he took her hand, Soval could almost hear what the younger man must be thinking: if Enterprise had not traveled into the Expanse as a result of the attack on Earth, it would not have been flung into the past. Captain Archer would never have met Esilia, and there would be no Archers of Ikaaran descent...no Karyn.

“Therefore,” Soval continued, “to say that you failed is a less than accurate statement at best. Rather, I would say that...you lived.” He raised his glass. “My wish for both of you is to live long, and prosper.”

As the room resounded with the ambassador’s toast, Lorian swallowed hard, clearly moved. Karyn squeezed his hand, giving him a radiant smile. Their eyes never left each other as they touched glasses and drank together.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Chef was back at his defensive position beside the wedding cake, guarding it as if it were a holy relic, slapping would-be tasters’ hands away. Archer couldn’t resist. “So what’s next?” he asked, loud enough for Chef to overhear. “The bouquet toss? The dancing?”

“Certainly not!” Chef huffed. He regarded Archer with undisguised pity. Or was it disgust? Archer could never tell with Chef. “One can see that you’ve not been to a wedding in quite some time, Captain. If ever.”

Archer tried his best to look chagrined. “I guess it has been a while.”

The Enterprise crewmembers in attendance watched the exchange with amusement. They’d all been on the receiving end of Chef’s dressings-down at one time or another, and it was grand watching the captain make himself a willing victim.

“Take my advice, Captain, I beseech you,” Chef said wearily. “Keep to your heroics, or whatever it is that you do on the bridge. Let better minds handle the important matters of ceremony, hmm?”

Archer studied Chef through narrowed eyes. “You’re still miffed at me about the new mess hall, aren’t you?”

Chef folded his arms. “It hasn’t been the same since those Spacedock jerry-riggers rebuilt it.”

“I had them install the latest technology—”

“Technology!” Chef snorted. “Have you tasted the swill that sorry excuse for a replicator passes off for coffee?”

“No one expects it to be as good as yours,” Archer said reasonably.

“I should hope not!”

Archer gave him a conspiratorial smile. “Think of it this way, Chef. That replicator will ensure that the crew never forgets to appreciate you.”

Chef thought it over and finally nodded. “That will do.” His dignity restored, he gathered up Lorian and Karyn and brought them to stand beside the wedding cake. “Time for the bride and groom to cut the cake,” he announced brightly. As he handed the knife to Karyn, he paused to give Archer a doleful shake of his head, and the Enterprise crew broke up.

Lorian observed, hands clasped behind his back, as Karyn lined the knife up over the cake. Chef patiently unfolded one of Lorian’s hands and placed it over Karyn’s. “You do it together, Commander.”

“She is quite capable on her own,” Lorian assured him, with some puzzlement.

Karyn giggled. “It’s traditional.”

“Ah. Then by all means, I shall join you.” They cut the cake together. Karyn placed a slice on a plate and held it between them. Lorian glanced at the wedding guests, who were watching with inordinate interest. “I’m aware that it is customary for the guests to witness the cake-tasting ritual...but do they expect to see something other than the ingesting of cake?”

Karyn shrugged. “Some couples get rowdy and shove cake up each other’s noses. They think it’s funny.”

Lorian couldn’t help but wince. “You are not one of that ilk?” he asked warily.

With a smile, Karyn broke off a morsel of cake. “Far from it.” She held the cake to his lips.

Hyper-aware of their audience, Lorian shyly opened his mouth. She slid the confection inside, letting her fingers linger on his lips for a moment. As the icing dissolved on his tongue, Lorian tasted a mingling of cake and Karyn, both light, sweet caresses in his mouth. It was a surprisingly intimate experience.

He took a bite-sized piece of cake from the plate and offered it to her. She held his eyes as she opened her mouth, letting him place the cake between her lips. She closed them, encompassing the cake and his fingers. He felt her tongue tickling his fingertips as he slid them free. Before he could draw away, she captured his hand, licking a trace of icing off his thumb. He gasped softly as an involuntary tremor of pleasure jolted through him at her touch.

Michael Rostov watched, slack-jawed, with Anna Hess from a few tables away. He swallowed around his dry throat. “Do they serve cold showers with the cake?”

“Sign me up,” Hess murmured. “Best cake-tasting ever.”

Behind the happy couple, Chef looked on in etiquettorial ecstasy. After signaling the waiters to begin cutting the cake and serving the guests, he triumphantly escorted the newlyweds back to their table. Pointedly looking down his aquiline nose at Archer, he proclaimed, “That is how it should be done.”

“Fussbudget,” Archer said under his breath.

“Philistine,” Chef sniffed, before repairing to his buffet tables once more.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Admiral Gardner and Captain Hernandez showed up a few minutes later, cake in hand, to present the newlyweds with wedding gifts. Captain Hernandez’s present was a direct order not to report back for duty aboard Columbia for seventy-two hours. As Karyn and Lorian gladly accepted this unexpected honeymoon, the Admiral presented his gift: a three-day stay at a VIP suite at the Starfleet guest quarters. The suite was on the top floor of the tower, with a sweeping view of the bay; Gardner had picked it out himself.

“Well now,” Trip grinned to Lorian and Karyn, “seein’ as how you’re free all day tomorrow, how about lunch?”

“Belay that,” Gardner stepped in. “You’re busy tomorrow, Commander. You, too, T’Pol. The Starfleet inquiry board meets at 1000 hours. Be prepared to be grilled all day.”

“Tomorrow?” Trip turned to T’Pol with a nervous little smile. “Here we go, then.”

She nodded, with a similar expression of uneasy anticipation. “Indeed.”

“I’d like to testify on their behalf,” Archer told Gardner.

“I, too,” Soval put in.

“By all means,” Gardner said, twirling his fork in invitation. “The more the merrier.”

“If Karyn and I can be of any assistance,” Lorian said, “we would be glad to add our voices to yours.”

“Thank you all,” T’Pol replied, with a nod of gratitude. She and Trip were taking care not to indulge in public displays of affection this evening, but for bondmates, it was not a disadvantage. She felt her husband’s mental embrace as strongly as if he were putting his arms around her. Their connection soothed her disquiet, reminding her that they were already wed, no matter what decision Starfleet HQ would make regarding the feasibility of a legal, publicly acknowledged marriage.

-- -- --

Kyle could see the wedding party’s table from the bar. Admiral Gardner was there now. And, Kyle noticed with a pang of disappointment, so was the woman Archer had danced with so chummily on the night Lorian and Karyn had first brought him to Callahan’s.

Kyle couldn’t help noticing, though, that Archer was significantly not standing anywhere near The Woman. Were they keeping their relationship on the q.t.? Playing it cool, to give the world at large the impression that they weren’t involved?

She saw their eyes meet a couple of times. The Woman’s expression had a polite friendliness about it...not what one would expect of a lover, or even one pretending not to be. Archer’s face was quietly pleasant, but Kyle read something very different from his body language. He was pulling away from The Woman, physically making himself move away every time he laid eyes on her. What was going on there?

-- -- --

“Lorian, answer me a question,” Hernandez was saying. “I know that the doctored personnel file I have for you on Columbia lists your only name as Lorian, in keeping with your official designation as a full-blooded Vulcan. But I’m curious...are you a Tucker?”

“Of course he’s a Tucker!” Chuck said stoutly. “Just because he goes by his Vulcan name, doesn’t mean he’s not Trip’s son.”

“Lorian is not a Vulcan name,” Lorian said mildly. His statement was met by dumbfounded surprise all around the table—save from Karyn, who already knew.

Chuck was the first to find his voice. “Is it human?”

Lorian hesitated. “Not precisely.”

“Well, don’t leave us hangin’!” Catherine prompted. “Tell us a story, darlin’.”

As Lorian regarded the ring of expectant faces, he found himself thinking back to an evening of Storytelling in the children’s dormitory on Enterprise, when he related this same tale to a circle of eager listeners. “You few here are aware that my parents’ quest to have a child was a long and difficult one,” he began. “There were years of research and experiments, hopes, disappointments...losses. Even my mother and I nearly died while she was in labor with me.”

Everyone at the table listened in absorbed silence, while the happy buzz of the reception continued around them.

Lorian gestured to his fair hair, pointed ears, and startlingly blue eyes. “When I was born, my appearance was unique. Neither a human nor a Vulcan name seemed a proper fit. Then my father remembered a book.” He turned to Catherine. “You read it to him when he was a child. It was a fantasy written centuries ago, about a land of elves and wizards and enchantment.”

Catherine brightened as she realized. “The Lord of the Rings.”

Lorian nodded. “There was a magical forest, into which evil could not enter...”

“The land of gold and dreams,” Trip said softly, remembering. “Lórien.” He smiled shyly at his son. “I thought of that?”

“I always considered your choice quite inspired,” Lorian said.

Trip’s smile widened giddily. “I’ll be damned.”

Lorian could not help but smile as well, charmed by his father’s reaction. The rest of the listeners were equally taken by the story. Lorian turned to Hernandez. “My full name is Lorian Tucker. However, because my appearance was more Vulcan than human, people on the ship began to address me in the Vulcan fashion, as simply Lorian. It seemed appropriate to me as well.”

Hernandez gave Karyn an apologetic little shrug. “On the record, you’ll have to remain Lieutenant Archer, wife of the Vulcan Commander Lorian, to be consistent with his personnel file.”

“I understand.” Karyn slipped her arm through her husband’s. “Lorian’s wife is all I ever wanted to be anyway.”

Lorian put his hand over hers. “However, off the record, your classified name—your married name—shall be Karyn Tucker,” he told her. “If you wish it to be so.”

Her deep brown eyes were soft and warm with affection. “Yes...I wish it to be so.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Karyn sent her bouquet sailing high in the air, with commendable momentum, Lorian thought. It flew in a graceful arc toward the knot of unmarried young ladies gathered on the dance floor—most of them from , with a smattering of junior personnel from Enterprise’s engineering crew and the Starfleet compound.

As the bouquet fell, a dozen squealing girls launched themselves at it. The bouquet landed in the grasp of Zoey Lyonesse, a doe-eyed lass of eighteen from , and the most avid listener of Trip and T’Pol’s love story, Lorian recalled. She squealed with delight as she hugged the armload of flowers to her, accepting the congratulations of the other girls. Lorian understood that, according to tradition—there seemed to be an extravagant number of traditions inherent in human social rituals—Zoey was now destined to be the next person to marry.

The young lady turned breathlessly toward the gaggle of youths watching from the perimeter, smiling brightly at her beau, Lucien LaCoeur. As his companions commenced roundly teasing him, Lucien’s expression froze somewhere between anticipation and terror. Apparently he put much stock in this bouquet-catching ritual.

Callahan stepped onto the dance floor, gently shooing the girls to the sidelines with their gents. “Okay, folks, grab your partners an’ get ready for my favorite part o’ the party—the dancing! The newlyweds are first, o’ course.” He beckoned to Lorian and Karyn. “What’ll it be, kids?”

Lorian was at a loss. “Evidently this is another tradition of which I am unaware.”

“The newlyweds get the first dance solo,” Callahan explained. “To their song.”

Karyn and Lorian glanced at each other. “We don’t have an ‘our song’,” Karyn admitted to Callahan.

“Not to worry,” he assured her. “Don an’ I will come up with somethin’ apropos.” He crossed to the stage and exchanged whispers with the bandleader and Sammy, the vocalist. A moment later, the band launched into a rich, romantic melody. As Lorian swept his wife into his arms, Sammy began to sing.

When somebody loves you
It’s no good unless he loves you – all the way
Happy to be near you
When you need someone to cheer you – all the way...

The newlyweds danced across the parquet floor with sinuous grace, holding each other close, Karyn’s opalescent blue veil fluttering around them like faerie-dust as they dipped and turned. The guests watched from the sidelines in delight.

Taller than the tallest tree is
That’s how it’s got to feel
Deeper than the deep blue sea is
That’s how deep it goes – if it’s real...

“Forever-love,” Karyn sighed happily as they danced. “I like the sound of that.”

“Mortality will likely interfere with such a scenario,” Lorian remarked.

“Not if you believe in reincarnation and the eternal togetherness of soulmates.”

Lorian was charmed. “Is that what you believe?”

“Ikaarans have always considered reincarnation to be the most sensible setup,” Karyn said. “A single lifetime is simply too short to learn everything one needs to know.”

“True enough.”

She held him a little closer. “And we are soulmates.”

“Indeed yes, beloved.” Lorian’s baritone voice was soft and intimate.

“It’s not at all logical.”

“Irrelevant.” He bent her into a dip, keeping his face close to hers. “I find the idea of infinite togetherness appealing as well.”

Through the good or lean years
And for all the in between years – come what may...

He righted her, and they continued to dance. “Let’s see,” Karyn mused thoughtfully. “I’m twenty-six. I have a good seventy years left in me. You’re 101...”

“Phlox told me that my physiological makeup indicated a lifespan approaching the Vulcan norm,” Lorian said. “He estimated I might yet reach the age of 175.”

Karyn smiled. “Then if we’re lucky, we’ll die in each other’s arms.”

-- -- --

As she observed Lorian and Karyn dancing, T’Pol felt Trip’s pride...but she could tell that he was unsettled as well. “What troubles you?” she asked.

When he turned to her, she saw in his eyes the sadness that she had been sensing. “I could live a hundred years and it wouldn’t be long enough,” he sighed.

“By whose measure?”

“It’s already happened,” he said soberly. “Lorian told me and Dad how his birth father died. His mom—when the bond was severed, it almost killed her.”

So this was the cause of his distress. “But she did not die,” T’Pol said.

“She had Lorian there with her, and the Cap’n. But what happens to you when I...” Trip’s brow creased with his frustration and pain. “C’mon, we both know you’re gonna outlive me by sixty years, at least. Doesn’t it bother you, being married to a short-lived human who’s cheating you out of a lifelong mate?”

T’Pol was calm. “It does not concern me.”

Trip still looked troubled. “But it’s not fair.”

“Did you not tell me once that we do not choose our soulmates?” she gently chided him. “My feelings for you happened. They were not predicated on your longevity. If you died tomorrow, I would know we had had today, and I would be content.”

He looked as if he wished to throw his arms around her. He could not, of course, not here. Instead, she felt his fierce embrace through the bond, so full of love and gratitude that it nearly took her breath away. “I love you, t’hai’la,” he whispered.

She returned his mental touch, surrounding his essence with hers, close and comforting. “And I you, t’hai’la,” she said softly in reply.

But if you’ll let me love you
It’s for sure I’m gonna love you – all the way, all the way.

As the music ended, Lorian bent Karyn back into one of their trademark sultry dips, as her shimmering gown and his robes settled around them like a blue and ivory cloud. They had more than a few of the wedding guests adding dreamy sighs to their applause.

Callahan stepped forward and offered Karyn his arm. Lorian graciously handed her over and retreated to the sidelines. “Time for the Father’s Dance, little lady,” Callahan told Karyn. “Only problem is, we don’t have a Father of the Bride, may he rest in peace. You got somebody in mind to sub for him?”

“As a matter of fact...” Karyn crossed to the wedding party’s table and took Archer by the hand. “Captain? Would you do me the honor of being my Father of the Bride?”

“I’d love to,” Archer smiled. As he escorted her onto the dance floor, he called out to the bandleader. “Play Blue Skies.” With a flourish, he pirouetted Karyn into his arms and began leading her in a graceful turn around the floor as Sammy and the band launched into the song.

I was blue, just as blue as I could be
Ev’ry day was a cloudy day for me
Then good luck came a-knocking at my door
Skies were gray but they’re not gray anymore...

When Sammy reached the refrain, Archer joined in, singing softly to Karyn in a light, pure tenor, making her smile.

Blue skies, smiling at me
Nothing but blue skies do I see
Bluebirds singing a song
Nothing but bluebirds all day long...

As other couples joined them on the dance floor, Karyn eyed Archer speculatively. “Well?”

“Well what?” he asked.

“When are you going to settle down and get married?”

How Archer longed to do just that. If only... But he didn’t want to put more of a damper on the day than he already had. “Me? The intrepid explorer? The conqueror of the Xindi?” he protested, with exaggerated bluster. “What makes you think I want to settle down?”

Karyn saw right through him though, as usual. “I’ve been watching you, Papa...the way you’ve been looking at me, looking at my dress...Esilia’s dress. You want this too...a wife, a family.”

Archer didn’t deny it. He couldn’t, not to Karyn. “Didn’t you hear? I was just thrown over for a sexy young starship.”

Karyn tossed her head dismissively. “That only means Captain Hernandez wasn’t the right woman for you.”

“What makes you think there is a ‘right woman’ for me?” he asked. “This isn’t the Expanse.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” she replied. “There’s no law that says you have to be alone all your life.”

“It’s not that simple, honey,” Archer said. “I have responsibilities to my ship, my crew—”

“My great-grandfather Jonathan was a fine captain, and a fine husband and father,” Karyn said with conviction. “You can balance the priorities without shirking any of them, because you did.”

He wanted to believe her.

“I’ve thought about this,” she went on, serene in her certainty. “The key is an understanding wife—someone who realizes that when you’re on duty, you belong to your ship and your crew, and when you’re off duty, you’re all hers.”

Archer smiled doubtfully. “Not too many of those, I don’t think.”

“That’s why captains give up and settle for being married to their ships!” Karyn said in exasperation. “But it’s really so simple. What you do is like...being in law enforcement, or emergency services, or the military. A starship captain is in service to a high ideal. You need a woman who respects that ideal, who is willing to share you with it. They do exist. Esilia was such a woman.”

Archer had to admit that Karyn was making perfect sense, which was both intriguing and frightening, since it was getting his hopes up. “And how do you know that?”

“Everyone knew!” Karyn replied. “She was Esilia Archer, the captain’s wife—the one every woman wanted to emulate. Plus, I asked Grandmother Madisen about her.”

“You asked about my wife?” These conversations about his alternate self always made Archer feel a little schizophrenic.

Karyn shrugged. “Well, as soon as I knew I was going to marry a starship captain, I needed to know what being a starship captain’s wife was like.”

“Just how old were you when you started asking?”

She thought for a moment. “About ten.”

Archer couldn’t help but laugh. He stopped in the middle of the dance floor and hugged her. “You’re something else.”

She smiled brightly up at him, undaunted by his good-natured skepticism. “Your Esilia is here, Papa, somewhere. But you won’t see her unless you’re willing to look…to pursue the possibilities.”

Archer wanted to. His lonely heart ached for him to. “It’s a ridiculous, impossible dream. You know that.”

Karyn arched a Lorianesque eyebrow at him. “You realize you’re talking to the most impossible dreamer there is. I waited seventeen years—outlasted a war, a crash landing, the threat of the end of the world, and a massive guilt complex—to win the one I love.”

“Touché.” He began dancing with her again. “I’ll think about it.”

“You think too much, Papa.”

Neatly sidestepping her comment, Archer began to sing again.

Never saw the sun shining so bright
Never saw things going so right
Noticing the days hurrying by
When you’re in love, my how they fly...

Karyn laughed delightedly as he twirled her around.

-- -- --

Kyle watched, transfixed, her elbows propped on the bar, chin resting on her hands, drink orders forgotten. She couldn’t take her eyes off the captain and his Karyn. Archer was a marvelous dancer, lithe and graceful. And he obviously adored Karyn. Kyle wondered just exactly how the two of them were related, and why it was classified. How could Karyn come from the Expanse, but still be an Archer? Marriage into the family? It was an intriguing mystery...

...Oh my, is he singing to her? He can sing, too?

How much dreamier could the man get?

Stop already, she scolded herself. But she kept watching. A girl could admire, couldn’t she?

Archer and Karyn ended their dance to enthusiastic applause. He stood back proudly as she curtsied to the crowd.

“Now comes the Mother’s Dance,” announced Don, the bandleader. He eyed Lorian expectantly. “We have no Mother of the Groom either, but somehow, I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem. You got someone in mind to stand in for your mom?”

Lorian nodded. “I do.”

“And a song?”

“Yes.” Lorian hesitated. “However, it is not a jazz piece.”

Don smiled. “We can play anything. Besides, it’s your wedding, kid.”

Lorian hid a smile over being referred to as “kid” by a man at least fifty years his junior. “Then, if you please, play the ‘Sleeping Beauty Waltz’.”

“You got it.” As he turned to the band, Don murmured, “Fairy-tale music. It suits him...”

Lorian crossed to the wedding table and bowed over T’Pol’s hand. “Commander, may I have this dance?”

Wordlessly, T’Pol rose and took his hand, her face composed, but her eyes aglow with affection. Lorian glanced at Trip, who gave him a nod and a warm smile.

As Lorian led T’Pol onto the dance floor, every eye in the place followed them...the crew charmed, and the rest of the guests bursting with curiosity as to why the commander had selected the first officer of Enterprise as his stand-in mother.

As the band began to play, Lorian waltzed T’Pol around the room in smooth, stylish rhythm. They were a flowing vision in ivory and midnight blue, endlessly moving, turning, spinning to the music. The other couples lingered at the sidelines, watching the magical sight for a time before taking to the floor as well.

As the waltz continued, Sammy added vocals to the melody.

I know you...I walked with you once upon a dream
I know you...the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam...

T’Pol studied her son as they danced. He wore a pensive ghost of a smile as he looked at her...as if he were seeing far more than her face in his mind’s eye. “Why did you select this song?” she asked.

“My birth mother, your counterpart, taught me to waltz to this melody,” he replied. “It was my parents’ favorite.” His eyes seemed to focus on some faraway memory. “It has special meaning for me.”

But if I know you, I know what you’ll do
You’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream.

T’Pol remembered her encounter with Trip in her white room during her first mind-meld with Soval...meeting her beloved in a dream, as it were. She wondered whether the other Trip and T’Pol walked together in their dreams. Perhaps that was the reason they found this waltz so appealing. “You have been thinking of them today,” she said speculatively. “Your birth parents.”

At once, Lorian looked apologetic. “Do not misunderstand. Having you and Father as my parents now, here, fills me with gladness.”

T’Pol spoke reassuringly. “It is only logical that you would think of them on the day you have taken a wife.”

He relaxed, his expression reflecting the bashfulness of a young boy. “When I was young and still learning to cope with shyness, I recall being quite mortified when my father brought up the subject of girls. I feared that I would prove a disappointment to him.”

“If he were here, I believe he would be quite proud of you and your new wife.” T’Pol nodded to Trip, dancing with Karyn a few meters away. “Because he is proud.”

Lorian found himself smiling. “It is a pleasing thought.”

T’Pol hesitated, tamping down a flicker of self-consciousness. “And...what of your birth mother?”

Lorian’s expression warmed. “Her confidence in me never wavered, from the first moment I can remember, to her last breath. She was a source of great strength to me.”

Again T’Pol felt a pang of envy, but also a level of satisfaction. “She cherished you,” she said simply. After a moment, she summoned the courage to speak further. “I did not have the privilege of giving birth to you, or raising you, but I cherish you as well...almost as if I were your real mother.”

Lorian pulled her to a stop, ignoring the other couples dancing past them, and took her hands in his. “You are my mother,” he said firmly.

His words left her nearly speechless. “You honor me,” she said softly.

He gave her an affectionate little Lorian-smile. “I love you.”

T’Pol felt a rush of joy that filled her heart, leaving her unable to speak at all. She held tight to his hands, letting her eyes convey her feelings. Lorian nodded gently in understanding. Smoothly, he took her in his arms again, and on they waltzed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Archer slipped, unnoticed, away from the noise and heat of the dance floor. He needed a break. The emotions of the day were catching up with him...the memorial, the reunion with Catherine and Chuck, the wedding, the Expanse mission going to Columbia...and the loss of Erika.

He’d never really had her, he supposed. When he had run into her again in February, her compassion had eased his guilt and self-loathing over what he had done in the Expanse, and helped him to begin healing. But he had resisted giving himself completely to her. He wondered why, now. It had been over twenty years since Margaret Mullen had broken his heart. Perhaps he had sensed that he needed to start liking himself again, before he could properly love anyone else.

...I’m married to Starfleet, just like you.

Maybe he had known how risky it would be to love Erika. She had even given him fair warning, back in that bar.

It was charming, and typical, of Karyn, a confirmed optimist, to be rock-solid certain that there existed a woman who would understand Archer’s responsibilities, his priorities, his need to reserve part of himself for Starfleet...for his “high ideal.” Who better to understand than Erika, a fellow starship captain? And look how well that had turned out.

Better to be realistic. Archer would simply keep himself too busy to think about love. He would help to found that “Federation” that Daniels was always spouting on about. He would be Uncle Jon to Trip and T’Pol’s children, whenever they got around to having them, and Grandpapa to Karyn and Lorian’s kids. He would die a graceful old bachelor patriarch, surrounded by family, with the exception of a wife. It would be more than enough...as long as he didn’t think about it too much.

If only Esilia would stop haunting him like a dream from a time that never was, with notions of a life no longer lived alone.

Prowling along the perimeter of the room, Archer spied a narrow staircase tucked unobtrusively into an alcove. He ducked inside, taking a seat a half-dozen steps up, giving himself a view of the dance floor. He could see Karyn and Soval engaged in a sweet slow dance to The Way You Look Tonight. Evidently ambassadorial protocol had necessitated Soval’s learning to dance human-style. A few yards away, Phlox was enthusiastically demonstrating the finer points of Denobulan dance style to a game Liz Cutler. Even Chef had finally allowed Janette Fuller to drag him away from the buffet tables for a turn around the floor. Callahan was in his element, happily circulating among the throng of guests at the tables, making sure every glass stayed filled and every plate was piled high.

Archer heard a soft tread on the stairs below, saw a flash of dark auburn hair—and there was Kyle, the club’s bartender, staring up at him in surprise.

“Hello,” he greeted her pleasantly.

“Hello yourself.” She seemed a bit flustered.

“Am I in your way?” He started to rise.

Kyle waved him back down. “No. The only thing up there is Callahan’s office, and he never goes up there once the joint is open.” She studied him for a moment...what she could see of him, anyway, in the dimness of the alcove. Beneath his friendly countenance, she sensed sadness. Lingering thoughts of the memorial, she supposed. Or...maybe more than that.

She climbed a few steps, until she was standing before him. “I come here on my breaks, to get away and recharge. The humanity can be a real energy drain sometimes.”

He nodded. He knew she was saying it for his benefit, and her insight impressed him. “I guess that’s why I’m here, too,” he said. “It’s been a long day. I haven’t had time to process it all yet.”

With a smile of understanding, Kyle started to back down the stairs. “I’ll leave you in peace, then.”

“No, please...” Oddly, all of a sudden, he didn’t want to be alone. Or was it that he didn’t want Kyle to leave? “I don’t mind. Have a seat.”

Kyle settled on the step below his, her arm brushing lightly against his smoothly muscled thigh—the staircase was narrow. She looked out at the dance floor, watching Soval deliver Karyn back to Lorian. As the newlyweds began a sultry rumba, Kyle sighed. “I’ve never seen two people who just belonged together like they do. Y’know?”

He smiled. “I’ll take a wild guess and say you’re a romantic.”

“Guilty as charged, Captain.”

“So where’s your Prince Charming tonight?”

“Beats me.” She smiled, a little ruefully. “I don’t have one yet. And not for want of looking.” Kyle nodded to Lorian and Karyn. “Watching those two fall in love...seeing them now...it gives me hope that I’ll find my prince someday.”

This woman, unattached? It was hard for Archer to believe. He took a moment to study her. She appeared to be in her early thirties, with striking Gaelic looks, her fair complexion contrasting with her deep auburn hair and vivid blue eyes. And she had a self-assured air of practicality that he found quite appealing. “Surely a woman as attractive as you must have plenty of suitors.”

Kyle felt a warm flush at his compliment. She hoped fervently that it didn’t reach her face. He was probably just being gracious. “I do. And they’re frogs, all of ‘em.” He laughed, and she shrugged. “I have cursed myself with very high standards, Captain. Which is why I’m thirty-three and still looking.”

“Some people might rather have a frog than no one at all.”

Kyle shook her head with conviction. “I know too many people who have settled. They went for the security of a warm body, a face across the dinner table, an excuse not to be alone at parties. That’s not me.” She leaned back, idly watching the dancing couples below. “I’m looking for someone worth sharing my life. Someone to laugh with, to think with, to dream with. I want someone who can teach me, learn from me, learn with me...someone worth giving my heart and soul to. I want a partner, not a warm body.”

Archer was captivated. Kyle had just described exactly what he wanted as well. “A soulmate...”

She nodded. “Exactly.”

He blinked. “What?”

“A soulmate, you said.”

He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud. She was so easy to talk to, it was scary. He cleared his throat, trying to get some equilibrium back. “Whoever this dream man of yours is, wherever he is, he’s wasting valuable time.”

“Thanks.” Damn, but he was charming. Kyle knew she was already skirting harebrained territory. But right now, looking into those beautiful green eyes of his, she didn’t give a rip. “I only wish love were so cooperative,” she said lightly. “There’s a line from Don Quixote... ‘‘Tis said of love that it sometimes goes, sometimes flies; runs with one, walks gravely with another...’”

“‘...Turns a third into ice, and sets a fourth in a flame’,” Archer continued. “‘It wounds one, another it kills; like lightning it begins and ends in the same moment...’” They shared a smile. “I’ve never known a bartender who read Cervantes,” he remarked. Resting his chin on his hand, he studied her with interest. “What else do you read?”

“I mostly stick to stuff by people who have been dead for a long time,” Kyle summed up, drawing another laugh from him. He had a lovely, musical laugh. “Lately, it’s been the Brontë sisters, Dumas père et fils, Conan Doyle...”

“I love Conan Doyle!” he exclaimed. “His science fiction, or Sherlock Holmes?”

“Holmes. I pull out the complete works at least once a year.”

“Favorite story?”

The Speckled Band. Yours?”

A Scandal in Bohemia.”

Kyle grinned. “So you’re a romantic, too.”

“Am I?” Archer found it a little unnerving to be read so well by a woman who hardly knew him. But at the same time, it was flattering. She was taking the trouble to look past the uniform—and that damned “hero” reputation he’d been dragging around ever since Enterprise had returned from the Expanse.

“Anyone who moons over Irene Adler is as much a romantic as Holmes is,” Kyle said reasonably.

“Holmes, a romantic?!” Archer scoffed. “He’s a misogynist.”

“So he says,” Kyle countered. “But his actions toward women betray him. In fact, he’s quite chivalrous. Look at how outraged he is when he discovers that Woodley has forced Violet Smith to marry him in The Solitary Cyclist. He remains comfortably in denial until a lady is in peril, and then his truer nature reveals itself.”

He noticed she was leaning on his leg as she passionately made her case, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. He mentally revised his assessment of her looks from attractive to beautiful. “What the hell are you doing tending bar, anyway?”

Kyle belatedly realized her proximity to him, though he didn’t seem to mind. She pulled back anyway, hiding her self-consciousness behind a casual shrug. “I like it here. Music’s nice. Plus I enjoy talking with people.”

“You could probably earn a decent living as a literature professor.” He raised his eyebrows speculatively.

She rolled her eyes. “You sound like Callahan. He thinks I’m wasting my time here, that I should have a bazillion-dollar-a-year job...”

“Why don’t you?”

“That was the plan. I was one dissertation away from my doctorate in Psychology. A friend of the family had me all set up as an associate with his counseling practice. I was already seeing patients, getting a preview of what my life would be like.” Kyle shook her head. “But it wasn’t working. Charging people an arm and a leg to tell them how screwed up they were...peeling them open like onions, then sending them away raw and bleeding because their time was up...not my style. I knew it wasn’t the way I’m supposed to help people.”

She nodded toward the crowded dance floor, and the bar beyond. “That’s my gig, out there. Listening, offering a bit of advice along with the drinks. It doesn’t pay as much, but I’m happier, and so is my clientèle. Folks open up more when they feel comfortable.” She turned back to Jon. “You know what I mean. Your crewmen come and talk to you, don’t they?”

He was silent for a long time. Finally, he said, “I’ve always thought a crewman should be able to come to me about anything, any time. Part of the captain’s responsibility is to be available to listen to the needs and ease the troubles of his crew.” He paused. “I’ve done a better job of that this year. But there were times last year that I was...less than approachable. I regret that.”

Kyle remembered the terrible toll the Xindi war had taken on Archer’s ship...almost thirty dead, the ship shot practically to pieces. She had read about commanders in wartime—the impossible decisions they were forced to make on a daily basis, the sacrifices, the moral dilemmas they faced.

“Who does the captain talk to?” she asked softly.

He gave her a wan little smile. “Who eats the sins of a sin-eater?” He fell silent, looking away.

Kyle felt tremendous compassion for him, for the sorrows he must still have locked away inside him, unable to purge. Then she remembered The Woman. “The night you came here with Lorian and Karyn, I saw you talking with a lady...dancing with her. She’s here tonight.”

“Captain Hernandez,” he said. “She commands Columbia.”

She’s perfect for him. Kyle felt a pang of envy. But she clamped down on it as she remarked, “Another starship captain, huh? She ought to be someone you could talk to, right? Someone who would understand the burdens of command?”

“You’d think so,” Archer replied. “But Erika hasn’t...” He stopped. Why hadn’t he opened up to her? Why hadn’t he told her about the nightmares that still had him jerking awake in a tangle of sweat-soaked sheets, or the regrets for mistakes that could never be corrected? Why had he kept silent about the doubts that haunted him in the dark as he vainly sought sleep, teasing him with the notion that, if he had done just one thing differently here or there, his dead crewmen might still be alive?

Why didn’t he want to bare his soul to her?

“I didn’t feel comfortable talking about these things with her,” he heard himself saying. “She’s so optimistic, so positive...I didn’t want to do anything to dampen that.”

He’s talking about her in the past tense. Kyle sensed a fresh wound, yet to heal. But he still had the courtesy to speak of the woman in positive terms.

Archer shook his head with a sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m selfish enough to think that Enterprise has been through trials that no one else would understand, unless they’d been there.” His eyes wandered out to the dance floor. “Trip and T’Pol understand.”

She saw the way he was looking at them. “More than colleagues?”

He nodded. “My best friends.”

“There you go.” Kyle gave him a gentle nudge.

But he was already shaking his head again, backing off. “They’ve been through as much as I have. More. I wouldn’t want to burden them.”

Kyle cleared her throat importantly. “Speaking as a lay counselor, bar towel in hand...” —she got a smile out of him with that— “...it’s been my experience that the unburdening of one’s troubled soul is not necessarily itself a burden to a willing listener.”

He regarded her with a kind of startled awe. “Shared sorrow lightens grief,” he mused. A look of peace transformed his troubled features, and he smiled gently at her. “Thank you, Kyle.” He leaned down and kissed her softly on the cheek.

The touch of his lips sent a warm tingle all the way down to her toes. She swallowed hard before finding her voice. “Any time, sir.”

“Jon,” he said. “Call me Jon.”

Her voice took a powder again. She found herself happily drowning in those green eyes of his...then she blinked, snapping out of her trance with a nervous little laugh. “I’m gonna need some practice calling you that...Jon.” She said his name softly, shyly. It sounded strange and wonderful to her ears.

“Then I guess I’ll have to come back and see you again,” he replied.

Is this really happening? “I guess so.”

He smiled at her, and she felt another head-to-toe tingle as she smiled back. She wondered if Callahan would miss her, if she just happened to forget the time, and inadvertently stayed here a little while longer with the captain...with Jon...

Holy frickin’ God, he’d string her up by her toes if he found out she was AWOL.

Her smile grew apologetic. “I gotta get back to work.”

“Of course.” He rose, offering his hand. Kyle took it, letting him pull her to her feet. He didn’t let go, but walked her down the stairs, holding her hand.

They paused at the bottom of the steps, just inside the alcove. He turned to her, his back to the crowded dance floor, shutting the rest of the world out for a few moments longer. “So how do I rate on your frog-to-prince scale?” he asked.

Kyle figured he must be teasing her. Playing along, she surveyed him critically, her eyes running up and down his tall, muscular body, then lingering on his handsome face. He waited patiently, following her gaze.

“Definitely not a frog,” she concluded.

He actually looked relieved. “So far, so good.”

She drew in a silent breath as the tingling bumped up a couple of notches, becoming a delicious electric charge that crackled through her as he held her eyes. She frowned uncertainly at him. “Wait. You’re not seriously entering the Prince Charming contest, are you? I thought starship captains were married to their ships.”

Jon saw that he was flustering her with his interest. He couldn’t remember the last time he had flustered a woman. It felt good to know he could matter to someone, enough to elicit a reaction like this. “Actually, so did I,” he replied lightly, doing his best to hide his own nervousness. “However, I had an epiphany recently. I’ve been thinking that the whole ‘married to my ship’ perspective might be too...restrictive.”

Kyle nodded, feeling a little lightheaded. “But seriously, Jon, are you...serious? Because I don’t do one-night stands.”

“Kyle, I don’t know where this is going,” he replied sincerely. “But I’m not looking for a one-night stand.” With that, he kissed her softly on the lips. The feel of her mouth chastely pressed to his set off a shudder of hot, velvet sweetness that swept through his body in a powerful wave. No woman’s touch had made him feel this way since...since he could remember. Not Erika, not Margaret, no one. He marveled as he felt an answering shiver from her.

He drew away, unexpectedly shaken. Kyle searched his face hopefully. “How do I rate?” she asked softly.

In reply, Jon cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again, nudging her lips open and delving deeper, tasting her, exploring. She opened eagerly to him, returning his kiss with the same curiosity and desire, her hands moving lightly over his broad chest.

When they broke apart, they were both trembling. Jon stroked Kyle’s cheek as he caught his breath. “Off the scale,” he replied, his voice husky with emotion.

Kyle felt deliciously euphoric. Jon smiled at her...a smile of shared discovery, and of wonders yet to come. Then he was backing away, rejoining the throng of reception guests.

She stood in the dimness of the alcove a moment longer, making sure her heart wouldn’t beat right out of her chest. Then, taking a deep breath to steady herself, she headed back to the bar and got to work.

She could see him from here, mingling with the guests, once again the polished, confident captain of Enterprise and paterfamilias to Karyn. Watching him, Kyle could feel herself falling for him, right now, this very moment. She wanted to plunge headfirst into those beautiful, troubled green eyes and never look back. And the idea didn’t feel the least bit harebrained any longer.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Trip and T’Pol were still on the dance floor as Archer took his seat at the wedding party’s table. He settled back and simply watched them. Where Lorian and Karyn created sassy, fresh-hot sparks on the dance floor, Trip and T’Pol were a luxurious slow burn of midnight blue as they moved to Stormy Weather...effortlessly in sync, connected at the soul.

He remembered the last time he’d been in this room, watching the two of them dancing. T’Pol had been married to Koss then, seemingly lost to Trip forever. The idea of a happy ending was a miracle away. And yet they had all been happy and hopeful, buoyed by nothing more than the offhandedly sublime logic of a man whose reappearance in their lives was itself something of a miracle. Lorian had given them that hope, and a way to endure the Marriage of Inconvenience until the situation righted itself.

Now Archer felt touched by the same sublime logic, courtesy of an eternally optimistic great-granddaughter and a counselor disguised as a bartender.

He could still taste Kyle’s kiss on his lips, and feel the warmth of the extraordinary connection between them. He smiled to himself, feeling hopeful again.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

At about ten o’clock, Kyle noticed Jon exchanging a few words with Callahan, who then signaled “last call” to her. As she poured a final round of drinks for everyone at the bar, Sammy began to sing a slow, poignant ballad, accompanied only by the pianist.

Meet me on the other side
Meet me on the other side
I’ll see you on the other side
See you on the other side...

As couples took to the floor for a final slow dance, reception guests exchanged hugs and farewells. Kyle remembered Jon mentioning that many of them were scattering to the four winds after today. Both Enterprise and Columbia were due to embark on deep-space missions in a matter of days. The mood in the room took on a wistfulness as close friends took their leave of one another for what could be months, or years.

Commander Tucker’s parents glided onto the dance floor with the ease and grace of longtime partners. They both wore expressions of sweet sadness as they listened to the words, holding each other close as they danced.

Another mirage folds into the haze of time recalled
And now the floodgates cannot hold
All my sorrow, all my rage
A tear that falls on every page...

Commanders Tucker and T’Pol were dancing together again. They had been maintaining a comfortable but professional decorum on the dance floor all evening. This time, though, Kyle saw that T’Pol had eased close enough to Tucker to lean against him, nestling her head into the hollow of his throat, and he had his arms around her. Kyle thought the only Vulcan she would ever meet who was comfortable with touching was Lorian, and now here was T’Pol, looking as though she belonged in Tucker’s arms. Odd, considering she was married to someone else. Kyle idly wondered if she would ever hear the full story on them.

The ghosts are crawling on our skin
We may race and we may run
We’ll not undo what has been done
Or change the moment when it’s gone...

Lorian and Karyn were surrounded by dancing couples, but they might as well have been all alone, so focused were they on each other. They looked deep into each other’s eyes as the words of the song floated over them.

I know it would be outrageous
To come on all courageous
And offer you my hand
To pull you up on to dry land...

Kyle spotted Jon on the far side of the room, speaking with Admiral Gardner and The Woman...Captain Hernandez of Columbia. Kyle could see the physical distance between Jon and Hernandez as plain as day again, as the three said their goodnights. As soon as she and Gardner were gone, Jon shut his eyes in relief. When he opened them again, he looked directly at the bar...at Kyle.

He seemed surprised to see that she was watching him. Kyle almost lowered her gaze, embarrassed at being caught spying. But then he actually looked pleased, in an adorably shy kind of way. And hell, it was too late now anyway. So she didn’t look away. They held each other’s gaze across the crowded dance floor as the song played out.

Meet me on the other side
I’ll see you on the other side
Honey, now if I’m honest
I still don’t know what love is...

The party broke up with the efficiency of, well, a Starfleet operation. There was a flurry of activity at the several guestbooks that Enterprise’s quartermaster had set out, with everyone leaving congratulations, personal messages, and contact information. Lorian and Karyn, bucking tradition again, would have no part of being the first to leave, instead stationing themselves at the exit to offer their thanks and farewells to the departing guests.

Within minutes, the joint was almost empty, except for the wedding party. After Kyle exchanged farewells with everyone, she watched with amusement as Lorian and Karyn offered Callahan warm thanks for the reception, and Callahan tried, unsuccessfully, to shrug it all off as business-as-usual.

Ambassador Soval inclined his head gravely to his host. “Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Callahan.”

“Any time, Ambassador,” Callahan nodded in return. “By the way, I liked that toast o’ yours. ‘Live long and prosper’—that’s kicky. Maybe it’ll catch on with your Vulcan brethren at the embassy.”

“Perhaps,” Soval agreed, ever the diplomat. “Good evening.” He escorted the others out, leaving only the captain behind.

“You outdid yourself, Callahan,” Archer said happily. “Thank you.”

“Glad I could accommodate,” Callahan replied. “O’ course, it woulda been a pale shadow of a party without Chef.”

“And he’d be the first to tell you.”

“He already did,” Callahan deadpanned, and Archer laughed. With a grin, Callahan shook his hand firmly. “Don’t be a stranger, Captain.”

Jon glanced at Kyle, and a tiny smile graced his lips. It was enough to send a pleasant shiver through her. His voice was soft and full of promise as he replied, “I won’t.”

They watched the captain leave. The joint was quiet now, except for the band, tuning their instruments, getting ready for the regular evening crowd.

Kyle felt Callahan looking at her. She kept her face pleasantly neutral, her eyes on the empty doorway.

“I guess I can bring the boys in to sweep up,” he said. “Seein’ as how your feet aren’t even touchin’ the floor.”

She started out. “I’ll go take the ‘Private Party’ sign down.”

As she reached the doorway, Callahan asked, “So what’s goin’ on?”

Kyle turned back, giving him a serene smile. “I’m interested. And so is he.” With that, she floated out. Her feet weren’t touching the floor, after all.

~~tbc~~


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A whole mess of folks have made comments

Oh, HR... WONDERFUL job with Kyle and Archer. I need a cold shower and all they did was kiss. You're GOOD!

*squeeeee!*

I love this and would probably be able to form a more coherent response if I waited to comment until after I'm done squealing and giggling at your one-liners. The references to "Childhood Is a Kingdom" and "The Storyteller" are touching, and I love your Chef. :D

More? Soon? Please?

Awesome! This ch. had it all. Chef was a riot! Archer has some hope. Karyn and Lorian & Trip and T'Pol dancing. Uncle oh, sorry, Ambassador Soval giving a toast. The story keeps getting better and better. Maybe you should pitch it to TPTB when they get the petition.

Oh. Also. What exactly did the S3 dvds say about Lorian's name? I don't have them yet. :/

This is a very nice addition, HR, and I have to agree with AM Kathy about Chef: he cracked me up! And man, Archer doesn't seem to waste time when he falls in love, does he?

Sweetie, as usual, this was awesome. I'm so honored to be acknowledged; there was really no need for that--thanks. I absolutely love the family, and the interaction between them. And Lorian is just lovely. I'll go ahead right now and ask for more ASAP.

Awesome, looking forward to read more.

Absolutely beautiful reception, HR. Well worth the wait. I loved how everyone was speculating on what exactly Lorian and Trip and T'Pol's relationship was who didn't know, and Lorian's reaction to getting a good look at Karyn's dress. And your Chef--LOL. There's always someone who wants to stick wholly within tradition and complains if you go outside of it. Loved Archer's little deception to get them to their own reception, how he handled Karyn's nosiness, and it's nice to see that he might have found his own Esilia in this universe too. Can't wait for the bonding ceremony. And poor Trip and T'Pol, about to face Starfleet's board of inquiry. Ah well, at least they'll have pleasant memories from the night before, before the inquisition begins...

Wonderful! But its a good thing my accounting compatriots are out of work today. Now I don't have to explain to them why I was tearing up while I was reading the exchange between Lorien and T'Pol during the "Mother's Dance". Looking forward to more TnT in next chapters!

Oh my what a lovely story.

I was a blurry eyed mess most of the story and then... you had to do the mother's dance and well damn it! my monitor just about had to be readjusted by the IT folks.

Lovely. Oh and so hot, damn so hot in that bathroom.

Oh my what a lovely story.

I was a blurry eyed mess most of the story and then... you had to do the mother's dance and well damn it! my monitor just about had to be readjusted by the IT folks.

Lovely. Oh and so hot, damn so hot in that bathroom.

You certainly are a Hopeful Romantic. Loved this chapter. Just wondering, why is the origin of E2 classified? Did you explain why (in your opinion) it is classified in another chapter?
Anyway, I look forward to more. Write quickly!

Ditto what Distracted said. AWESOME!!! Now we have TWO more weddings to read! (heh heh heh) I love this series, I loved this chapter, and I can NEVER wait for more! Keep it coming, please!

P.S. - I loved the nods to your "Contemplations" series, too. Beautiful stuff, so update soon! :)

Classic, about E2 being classified... I covered it in a few other stories, actually. I gave it passing mention in Each Touch a Promise and For As Long As Ever Lasts, and then I got specific about Starfleet's reasons in Never and Always.

Lovin' the comments, y'all. You're making me all blushy and stuff. Thank you kindly. :D

*eeeeeeeeee* that was awsome, i know i'm not the first person to comment but i don't care, that was so sweet and full of promise, i almost shed tears. Please continue, i want to see what happens to our favourite t'n't and Archer (he's gettint busy) and Kyle is so sweet. So there will be *TWO* more weddings *hint hint* *and offers her mum's gorgeous vanilla cake* Keep it up HR, I love it.

Walks in all bashfull, an slightly scared... Uh Sorry for taken My good Ol time HR,,,, But, But I ve been,,,, aww hell Ive only got two excuses, 1) Ive been thinkin on yer fic (Thats the good nice one BTW),, an 2) Well Im In the middle of Operation get Mitchell a God Dang new Rank at the TTBBs. (I hate beinin a God Dang Commie, makes me feel all evil)

Ok enough excuses, Guess Ill get to my review so I can see if you'll forgive me for my lateness. :D

Ok well I loved the suprise aspect of the whole wedding reception, Very sweet hon. An that seen in the Shuttle Pod where Karen was actin like an eager lil kid, OH man that had me LOL four minutes.

Oh can I give you a personal thnak you to you. For not beinin like other author an still/even have Archer sorta jealous/envous of Trip, an still havin a thing for T'pol. ;) Thats why I like your Archer. He knows that Crew members are off limits.

An Archer sure is one lucky Pappy aint he. To have such a sweet an motvational great, grand Daughter. She sure helped to start to get him out of the dumps, sweet kid. Kyle ofcourse helped out. Cant wait to see how things work out between her an Jon down the road, they sure clicked didnt they. Allthough that would be my personal nightmare,, meetin the perfect women only to find out she's a Pro trained shrink.,, Allthough LOL if anyone needs on on that ship its Archer. LOL Good match up. :p

Ok Yeah keep makin that poor ol man so easly turn on able. Gee your gona put Lorian in an early grave at this rate. :p just kiddin, Somthein tells me Lorian an Karyn's weddin night is gona be hot. I smell a NC-17 chapie comin up dont I? ;)

Ok Just bout burst into happytears during the Groom/mother of the groom dance happened. God HR how the heck do you write such wonderfully beautiful scenes. So sweet.

Ok I loved an my heart was all none manish durning that wonderful, perfect TnT scene. Loved how T'pol was able to releave Trip of his sorrow with her undieing affection an devotion to him. But God Im really achin for the day in your sotries when they can atleast express some affection in public with out havin to look over their shoulder. Pluss Dangit They need some T'rugrats already. Sorry Just gettin a tad bit impatent here. But god that TnT scene was Awwsome,, Just wis thye could of given each other a real embrace.

Ok did I miss anything. Nope I guess not. Well Loved it HR Hon. Great Job as always, an I cant wait for the next part.

Oh PS Sorry for the lateness again.

I'm late too, Mitchell. :)

My favorite part of this latest portion was Archer and Kyle. :) Very sweet. Oh and T/T dancing, while the POV is from someone other than their immediate circle of friends and family. Very nice. :)

PHEW! Taken a few days to get through this Chapter but it was SO worth reading. Loved it all, you give the characters such life and depth. Can't wait for more!

Superb!!

But then I got to see it early and I count myself better for it.

Your writing skills continue to grow and IMO, far surpass those of many professional Trek writers out there.

You go girl!

Worth the wait! I like the way you potray Archer with all the shadows of the Xindi war and such still lingering on his mind. Though I would have liked a little more TnT.
Please, don't let us wait for too long!

Beautiful as always.

Finally had the time to read through this chapter (after re-reading the entire series).

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What wonderous, fluffly, romantic, mushy delight! It's like being stuck in the middle of a marshmallow! Lovely job, just such a happy chapter. More, soon, pretty pretty please?

Love the entire story so far. Can't wait to read more!!