Above and Beyond Friendship

Above and Beyond Friendship

By Beeswax

Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine, I’m just playing with it for a while.

Author’s Note: This is dialog heavy, but just an idea I had. There may be more chapters if it goes over well. I really like comments. Compliments are always good, but true critique in a constructive tone is even better. I welcome character analysis as well as issues of plausibility.

While I have already published this story once before, I have significantly edited, added and changed it so that it is something very different, though the point/outcome is the same. I have also changed it to reflect the additional information of the rest of season one.

Oh, and about the theory on the reasons for Vulcan women to have such a pronounced sense of smell. I don’t know if that is a new idea or if it has been suggested before, but it seemed original to me at the time.

Chapter 1

The Situation

Trip fought the sleep that clouded his brain. He needed to think about what had happened and what it meant. T’Pol shifted slightly next to him and he stared down at her delicate fingers splayed across his chest. The face that usually looked so pinched and stern had softened in sleep. It was the first time she had ever looked peaceful. He was tempted to touch her face, but decided against it. He didn’t want to wake her up. He tucked his right hand under his head and tried to make his body relax.

This was not how he had planned it. First of all, this was supposed to happen later, like toward the end of her tour or his, not at the beginning. This was all wrong and Trip knew it was going to create all kinds of complications. Sex always did. Worse, Trip had a sick feeling that in the morning everything would go right back to the way it was, only nothing would be right.

The sharp pain in his left shoulder had been reduced to a dull ache, but moving still hurt. T’Pol stirred in her sleep and rolled over, tucking into his side and sending a spasm of pain shooting up his neck from the socket, but he didn’t move her. At last sheer exhaustion won over everything else and he slept dreamlessly until morning.

When he woke, she was gone.

***************************16 Hours Earlier************************

"I mean it, Cap’n. I won’t work with her again. She is too damn ‘logical’ or somethin’! Makes me sick to my stomach just to think about it!"

"Trip, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad."

"Cap’n, I’m serious, I can’t vouch for her personal safety if you stick me in a shuttle pod alone with her again anytime soon. I don’t care if she is a woman, much less a Vulcan, I’ll.... I’ll... well I’ll do somethin’ drastic, that’s fer sure! Three more days in a shuttle with her, that eyebrow and that sniff of hers and you would have been short at least one officer!"

Archer hid his smile behind a forkful of meatloaf, because he knew his engineer wasn’t trying to be funny. As of late Jon had found himself frequently putting his science officer and chief engineer together on assignments just because they seemed to have such a good time irritating each other. The meals immediately following the joint assignments were something to look forward to. He looked up as Doctor Phlox entered the small private dining room.

"Sorry I’m late, Captain. I had a small medical emergency to attend to."

Trip looked up in concern, "Gee, Doc, I hope everyone’s okay."

Archer jumped in too. "Anything I need to know about, Doctor?"

"Oh no, Captain, it is a rather personal matter. Besides, the condition is easily remedied."

Jon changed the subject before Trip’s curiosity could be engaged. "Trip here was just filling me in on the details of our last away mission to that planetoid rubble we passed. We have a similar ring of debris in our own solar system. Many people think it was also once a planet."

"Why yes, T’Pol told me that Commander Tucker and herself were able to collect quite a few samples of some interesting dilithium isotopes. She seemed to feel they could be of some real scientific value."

"Now just hold on a second, Doc, are you sayin’ Little Miss High and Pointy sounded enthusiastic about somethin’?"

Phlox gave Trip a rather confused look at the reference to Sub-Commander T’Pol.

"I think what Trip meant, Doctor," Archer added hastily, "Is that it is rare for humans to find something the Vulcans find of any interest, much less of actual value."

Phlox gave the Captain a look that indicated that Jon’s statement was only slightly less judgmental than Trip’s. But, before the Doctor could comment Trip pushed himself away from the table with a determined shove.

"Yeah, Cap’n, that’s exactly what I meant. 'Scuse me."

Trip threw down his napkin and stalked out of the dinning room. As the door shut behind Trip, Archer let the chuckle he was holding bubble to the surface. The previous comment forgotten, the Doctor’s eyes held a bit of sparkle themselves.

"You know, Captain, I really don’t think Commander Tucker and Sub-Commander T’Pol like each other very much. They seem to go out of their way to antagonize each other. But then, other times I really wonder if maybe..."

Archer cut him off with another chuckle as he shook his head.

"Don’t try to figure it out, Doctor. Just let it be. Just let it be."

Two crewmen quickly got out of the way as Commander Tucker thundered down the hall on C deck. Trip wasn’t stupid. He knew Archer had been laughing at him and he knew why. It was bad enough T’Pol got under his skin, he didn’t see why other people, much less his best friend, had to find it so damn amusing.

He bustled past sickbay on his way to his quarters.

"Commander Tucker." Trip felt his stomach clench. He willed it to relax.

"Sub Commander T’Pol." He said coolly as he kept right on walking. Maybe she was just trying to be polite. She reached out her hand, palm up to indicate her desire for him to stop.

"Commander Tucker, may I have a word with you?"

"Can it wait until tomorrow, Sub Commander, I’m kinda beat right now."

There was an odd strained pause, "Maybe I could walk with you?" And then even stranger, she added, "Please?"

Trip squinted at the Vulcan and pursed his lips slightly before answering.

"All right," He stepped to the side and held out his arm, bowing slightly, "after you."

T’Pol regarded him for a second more before falling in next to him. They walked together in silence for a few moments. By then they were outside his door. Trip waited expectantly, his hand on the door pad, but T’Pol still said nothing. Trip sighed audibly.

"Well, it’s been nice talkin’ to ya’. Good night." The door was almost shut when she finally spoke.

"May I come in?"

Turning back quickly, Trip reached over and caught the door. "I beg yer pardon?"

"May I come in?" There was an oddly poignant quality about the way she stood there, her face expressionless, but her eyes pleading him to allow her this access. Trip stepped back from the door.

"Come in." An awkward silence settled over the small room. T’Pol looked around the room with a cool assessing air. Trip almost apologized for the jumbled nature of it, but stopped himself at the last second.

Trip’s room was an odd juxtaposition of order and chaos. His bed was neatly made and his desk was organized and clear of clutter. His walls, however, were a riot of pictures from home, children’s drawings from his nieces and nephews along with letters and a poster of Marilyn Monroe. She was standing next to a bed in a sheer gown that seemed to meld into the sheets. It almost gave the impression that she really wasn’t wearing anything at all. He’d had that poster since he was sixteen when he found it in an old computer archive and had it printed up. On the wall behind his desk he had a schematic of the entire ship, with colored thumbtacks at important junctures. There wasn’t a trace of lint or dust anywhere, and yet the room still seemed slightly unclean somehow.

Trip resisted the urge to show T’Pol how well organized his closets were, how neatly arranged every item was in his drawers. Instead he pulled out a chair for T’Pol and sat down on the bed opposite.

"Have a seat."

"Thank-you."

There was even more awkward silence. T’Pol stared straight ahead at a spot just left of Trip’s ear. Trip tried not to look at her either. After a few minutes he gave up.

"Is there something I can do for you T’Pol? I mean, sittin’ here is nice and all, but I have an early shift tommora and I need to get some shuteye. So if there’s nothin’ you wanna t..."

"The Doctor says that I should ask a friend for help on something."

"Uh huh." The skin on Trip’s arm just below his cuffed sleeves goose pimpled. "And, like last time, you just need someone to talk to and I already know some personal stuff about you so while I’m not your first choice I’m the...."

T’Pol raised an eyebrow. Tucker rolled his eyes, but he got the point.

"Sorry. Okay, I’m listenin’."

"How familiar are you with Vulcan mating practices?" The gooseflesh on trip’s arms spread to the back of his neck.

"Uh, not much really, I mean, well, nothin’ at all actually. Are you really sure you wouldn’t rather talk to Hoshi or...."

"Vulcan males go into a period of intense sexual arousal once every seven year. Every part of their mental and physical existence is focused on mating. Their hormone and adrenaline levels rise and reason shuts down. The only way to resolve the imbalance is with a huge surge of endorphins caused only by sex and mortal combat. If the imbalance is not resolved, the male goes insane and dies." T’Pol took a deep breath and suddenly Trip knew for sure he didn’t want to hear the rest of this.

"Huh, well, isn’t that interestin’. You learn something new everyday." Trip jumped up from the bed. "I suppose you have to be goin’ now. It was real nice talkin’ to ya’!"

T’Pol didn’t move. "A Vulcan female’s sex drive is somewhat different." A slight shiver ran down Trip’s back, but that didn’t stop him from asking.

"How different?"

T’Pol paused before going on. Trip realized how embarrassing this was for her. He sat back down and tried to look sympathetic.

"A Vulcan female’s cycle is reflexive to that of the male. When males enter... it is called Pon Farr, they emit large amounts of pheremones. Any female who were to stay in close contact for a length of time with that male would be induced into a similar cycle by these pheremones. Once she enters a cycle, the symptoms are just as debilitating and eventually fatal as in the male. This is why it is customary for males to be married before the onset of their first cycle."

Trip wasn’t sure he saw the connection she was implying, but he made a guess. "And that’s why it’s usual for a Vulcan couple to live together for the first year, regardless of their occupations?"

T’Pol’s body relaxed just a little, as if she was glad he understood. "Yes, in the process of mating the couple becomes bonded mentally. For the rest of the male’s life he will always seek out that female first, above all others, when he is overcome with Pon Farr... unless he consciously chooses to bond with another beforehand."

Trip didn’t like where this was going, but it was beginning to make sense. "And what about the woman, once she is bonded is she only effected by the same guy from then on?"

"No, she still needs to be in close contact to activate her own cycle, and close, prolonged contact with another male in Pon Farr can cause her cycle to activate, though as she is not bonded to him she will still seek out her own mate." T’Pol’s skin was taking on a greenish cast and Trip began to wonder if talking about this was making her ill. "This is a very personal and private thing, most males simply go home and stay home with their mate before the Pon Farr and would therefore stay away from females who were not their mate."

Trip found that he was oddly flattered that she was willing to discuss this with him, but he still didn’t understand why she was.

"So if it’s so pers’nal, why are you telling me about it. Besides, there aren’t any Vulcan males around here anyway so why would it ...." Suddenly Trip was very angry.

"Son of a bitch! It was that damn ‘emotional’ Vulcan, wasn’t it! The Capt’n said he attacked you. Did he..." Then Trip paused, "But that was months ago. It took this long to...."

T’Pol shook her head. "It was the Suliban. When they were," and her voice took on a bitter tone, "interrogating me it appears the drug they used has the same effect as Pon Farr pheremones; presumably to break my mental control. Dr. Phlox is not sure what it was. There is no record of it in the Vulcan medical banks."

Rage swelled in Trip again, this time aimed at the Suliban and the pain he could only imagine they inflicted on T’Pol during her "interrogation." Then, it dawned on Trip what T’Pol was about to ask.

"So what you’re sayin’ is that they triggered this drive in you? And if you don’t ‘resolve’ it, you’ll die?"

"It appears so."

While Trip had fantasized about just such an occasion once or twice (not that he would ever admit it) the unspoken question sent him into a state of panic. He began looking for other options.

"What about the combat option? Could that work for you? I’m pretty good at Tae Kwon Do and..."

"Being a Vulcan and therefore significantly stronger than humans, there is a good chance I could kill you, or anyone else on this vessel in true one on one, hand to hand combat."

"What’s to say that any ‘other kind’ of contact wouldn’t kill me then, if yer so much stronger?"

"As it is not combat, we, I could be careful."

"You really want to do this with me? Isn’t there anyone else?"

"This environment and situation creates many complicated problems in the chain of command. We are of essentially the same rank, so that should not create occupational conflict. You already know some of my circumstances anyway, and," The logical voice began to crack and Trip realized how hard it was for her to hold it together. "Please understand, this is humiliating enough as it is to discuss, much less ask for help. Please do not force me to have to go through this again with someone else."

"What about the, whadya call it... mental bond? Could you get pregnant?" He was grasping at straws and he knew it. His last words were barely audible. "Interspecies relations?"

T’Pol stood up. "With some minor precautions the first two can be avoided and the third is completely irrelevant. You obviously find the whole idea as distasteful as I do. I am sorry I brought it up." She turned her head so Trip couldn’t see her face, but Trip heard the catch in her voice. What little resistance he had left at that point was gone.

Trip stood quickly and pulled her into his arms. He tucked her head under his chin. He knew he had been sunk the minute he let her into the cabin. Even while being embraced she still held her body rigid and straight, but Trip thought he heard a small sigh. He hugged her tighter.

"Tell me what to do."

Continued in Chapter 1.5

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