Love and Logic

Love and Logic

By agentpippin

Rating: PG, Romance, Humor

The T/Ters are back full force, and I am thoroughly ticked off by Shuttlepod One. Observe the result.
The '//'s are meant to show thoughts, since ff.net doesn't seem to like my choice of italic tags.
Disclaimer: Not mine... dammit.

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Chapter One

*BBBBBZZZtttt.*

"Not AGAIN!" the engineer exploded at the turbolift. "I don't believe this!"

Trip dropped to his knees on the floor of the lift and pried open an access panel, grumbling. "Why the hell won't these things just work?"

T'Pol stood above him, watching him work. "Perhaps you should think about a permanent solution, Commander, not just your temporary "quick-fixes"."

Trip rolled his eyes and reached around a hot component to pull out a wire and attach it somewhere else. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he muttered. "These damn things always seem to break down whenever I need it least. Gimme a hand?"

T'Pol dropped to one knee beside the commander and pulled the cover off another panel, handing Trip spare parts when he needed them. They worked in silence for a minute or so until T'Pol suddenly spoke. "Do you plan to attend the movie tonight?"

Trip looked up, bemused. "What? The movie?" //Is she makin' small talk?// he wondered.

T'Pol spoke without looking at him. "Mr. Mayweather described it as being very interesting. I thought it might be an appropriate recreational diversion, since you seem to be rather tense."

Trip stood abruptly. "And where'd ya get that impression? Yer little Vulcan mood-o-meter?" he shot at T'Pol, suddenly irritated. //Damn,// he thought. //Every time it seems like we'll start gettin' along, she hasta turn into the big Vulcan pain in the ass she was when she came aboard.// Trip ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Maybe I am a little tense."

He bent down, made the final adjustments to the circuitry and jammed the panel back on. He straightened up and raised his hands in the air. "I guess so. What's playin'?" he asked her, as the lift bumped into motion. T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "Attack of the Mutant Killer Zombies," she intoned. Trip stifled a laugh. "Sounds good," he told her, smiling. "See ya at 0800 hours, then?" The Vulcan nodded and turned to face the doors as they opened onto the bridge.

"...be a colony or establishment of some sort," Captain Archer was saying. He looked up as he heard the turbolift open.

T'Pol strode to her seat and slipped into her chair, long legs folding underneath the display monitor. Trip stood for a second, taking in the bridge, then went to his own station. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see T'Pol watching him. He thought about the rather odd conversation in the turbolift. //Maybe she ain't so bad,// Trip decided. //Hell, Malcolm, ya mighta been right.// Trip still avoided that particular topic around the armory officer - the Shuttlepod One incident was still fresh in both their minds. Trip had to scold himself every time he realized he was watching the Sub-Commander and recalling Malcolm's little confession. //Too bad she's a Vulcan,// he thought wistfully. //She'd make a hell of a woman.//

Trip shook his head and took his seat. His gaze traveled over the image on the screen. "What's goin' on?" he asked, puzzled. The orb, laid out on the viewscreen, was plunged into obscurity, which wouldn't have been so odd had it not been facing the system's twin suns. It looked altogether gloomy, unappealing, and frankly rather strange. The engineer's sharp eyes picked out large cloud formations on the surface. Hurricanes, or snowstorms, perhaps. He was briefly reminded of the ninth icy circle of Dante's Inferno. Not that the metaphor made him any more eager to be on the away team for that mission - the planet already gave him the creeps. Captain Archer's voice cut through his musings.

"Trip, T'Pol, Malcolm - you're with me. Hold 'er steady, Travis." Trip sighed inwardly, but didn't want to curb the captain's obvious enthusiasm for this strange phenomenon. Trip was tempted to look over at T'Pol, to get her reaction to the dismal sight gracing the bridge viewscreen. //What the hell ya talkin' about, she's probably seen more'n her share of planets jest like this,// he rebuked himself. //'Sides, she wouldn't show anythin' anyways, even if it was new to her.// He couldn't quell the thought, even as he left the bridge for the dark planet below them. //Too bad.//
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A/N:

Just wanted to let you know that, 1) yes I screwed up the format, and subsequent chapters will be easier to read, I promise. 2) I did indeed mean to write 2000 hours, but I guess you all knew what I meant, dincha? And 3), since FF.net does not seem to appreciate my choice of italics tags, I'll be using slashes, like so: //blah blah blah//, to denote thoughts in future writing.
Thanks for the input. Keep them reviews coming.

_agentpippin_

You like? I like.

Continued in Chapter 2

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