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Mind Games

Author - Blue Belle | Genre - Angst | Genre - Friendship | M | Main Story | Rating - PG-13
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Mind Games

by Blue Belle


Rating: PG-13
Summary: Continued from "The Night Before". Trip and T'Pol talk about her emotional state. Or something.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns Enterprise. Now Paramount, I beg to thee - Make this show more exciting before I die from boredom! Thank you.
Author's Notes - I started this fic back when Enterprise was still fairly new. But now, after the end of the first season, I find myself very disappointed with the show. I love some of the characters, but I just have some problems with Enterprise that I can't get past. So, unfortunately, that has kind of entered into my writing. I wanted to finish this fic, but I seem to have petered out the end, wanting to get the thing done. I'm sorry about that. Hope it's alright anyways. :)

"Hear the other side."

--- Roman Proverb

*

Hoshi sat down in a seat next to her crewmates and sighed. "It's too early to be awake," she said, nursing her hot tea. "We shouldn't be allowed to get out of bed before 0900." She stifled a yawn behind her hand.

Malcolm took a bite of his eggs. "Late night, Ensign?" he asked, smirking.

Hoshi smiled. "I got caught up in a good book, that's all." She glanced at Trip, who hadn't even acknowledged her presence. "How about you, Commander? You look a little tired."

Malcolm and Hoshi exchanged glances when Trip failed to look up from his coffee. "Commander?" said Hoshi, touching his arm.

He startled back to reality, a questioning look in his eyes.. "Huh?"

"Are you all right?" asked Malcolm. He had noticed a difference in Trip's personality in the last few days. He seemed almost...depressed.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Why?"

"You just seem a little...distant," replied Hoshi.

"Distant? What d'you mean by that?" he asked, harsher than he intended.

Hoshi raised her eyebrows. "Nothing," she said, then asked again, "Are you sure you're all right?" She lowered her head, trying to look into Trip's downcast eyes.

Trip sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Sorry. Just a rough night, I guess."

"Something you need to talk about?" asked Malcolm.

He shook his head. "No, I probably shouldn't." He turned the warm cup around in his hands, trying to distract himself.

Hoshi sighed and glanced up as the doors to the Mess Hall opened. She smiled as the Captain and Sub-Commander entered, and waved them towards their table.

"Care to join us?" she asked as they approached.

"Yes, thank you," replied the Captain, taking a seat. T'Pol sat down beside him. "How's everyone this morning?"

Trip tapped the table absently, staring at his coffee. Malcolm raised his eyebrows. "I think we're all a little tired," he said, smiling.

Jonathan glanced at Trip, knowing he wasn't in a good mood. "You all right, Commander?"

He glanced up. "Fine, Cap'n," he responded, getting up from his seat. "I think I'll get an early start."

He left the table abruptly and exited the room. The silence around the table was broken by Malcolm. "Sounds like someone got up on the wrong side of the bed."

Jonathan frowned and glanced at T'Pol, remembering her as the topic of an earlier conversation with Trip. He noticed she hadn't said a word, only staring at the coffee cup Trip had left behind.

*

Jonathan found Trip in Engineering later that day, working in a cramped section of the engine core. The Captain knelt down to look into the space and smirked at the mess the Commander had made.

"You keep piling things up like that and you won't be able to get out of there," he said, and Trip glanced at him.

"Maybe that wouldn't be such a...bad thing," he said, struggling with a panel.

"I couldn't help but notice your bad attitude this morning," said Jonathan, "I thought maybe you'd like to talk about it."

"Nothing to talk about," he replied, finally jerking the panel off the wall. He threw it onto the ever-growing pile beside him.

"Is it about T'Pol?" he asked, and Trip responded by noisily ripping off another panel.

Jonathan sighed. "Do you even know what you're trying to fix in there?"

Trip tossed him a dirty glare and began repairing wires. "Look, I know you mean well n'all, but I think I need to deal with this on my own."

The Captain nodded his head slowly and smiled.. "All right. But if you need me, I'm here. And stop taking out your anger on your friends. It's unattractive."

Trip smirked and waited until the Captain had gone before leaning his head against the wall and sighing. Looking at the parts lying around him, he groaned painfully. He had a lot of things to put back together.

*

Jonathan strode onto the Bridge and made his way to his Ready Room without stopping. "T'Pol, can you join me, please?" he asked as he stepped through the doorway. The Sub-Commander got up from the Captain's chair and made her way to the office.

She entered and immediately noticed the Captain pacing. She clasped her hands behind her back, preparing herself for whatever it was she had been summoned for.

Jonathan stopped and sighed. "I know it's none of my business, T'Pol, but two of my crewmembers are obviously having problems with each other, and as Captain, I feel I should intervene. Is there something going on between you and Trip?"

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. "Has he spoken to you?"

The Captain licked his lips. "He has, but he didn't tell me anything specific. Said he 'couldn't talk about it'. But he's in a very bad mood right now, and you seem to be avoiding him. You two are my highest ranking officers. If there's a problem between you two, I want it resolved."

T'Pol looked downward. "I will speak to him."

"Good." Jonathan moved behind his desk and sat down in his chair. "I hope it's nothing too serious."

She blinked slowly. "No, it's not serious. With your permission, I will go talk to the Commander immediately."

Jonathan nodded and T'Pol left the room.

*

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned and found T'Pol standing right behind him, staring at him.

"Jesus, T'Pol," said Trip, regaining his composure, "You know, it's not nice to sneak up on people."

"Captain Archer asked me to speak to you regarding our 'differences'," she said, a slight hint of distaste in her voice. "I am curious as to why you spoke to him about what happened when I asked you to keep it to yourself."

Trip rolled his eyes and sighed, gathering some equipment. "I needed some advice, that's all. I never told him, or anyone anything specific."

"I suppose I should have known better than to trust a human to keep something to himself. Or maybe I should have just known better than to trust you," said T'Pol. She halted, realizing what she was saying, and blinked uncomfortably.

Trip furrowed his brow. "Let's go into my office," he said, leading her towards the door.

As they entered, T'Pol sat down in a chair. She stared at the ground, breathing deeply, centering herself.

Trip leaned against the desk. "You all right?" he asked.

"Obviously I haven't overcome whatever it is that's affecting me," she said, looking up. "Perhaps I should see Dr. Phlox."

"No, wait," said Trip, stopping her from getting up, "You don't have to run away everytime something like this happens."

T'Pol pushed away from him and stood up. "I am not running away. You don't seem to be able to comprehend that I am not human and that this is not normal for me. And I do not want it to be."

She turned to leave, but Trip grabbed her arm and turned her around. "This isn't about being human, T'Pol. This is about being able to lose control once in a while."

She pulled her arm from his grip and raised her eyebrows. "Vulcans don't lose control. If you could see past your own selfish desires, you'd realize that not everyone is like you, Commander."

Trip's eyes hardened. "I'm trying to help you here. Why can't you see that?"

"You aren't helping. If you want to be of assistance, you'll leave me alone."

Trip stood close to her, his eyes burning with frustration. What irritated him to no end was the look of calm in her eyes, the gaze bordering on peaceful.

"What is it about me that you hate so much, Sub-Commander? Really, I'd like to know!" He glared at her, searching her face for any sign of a lapse in control. There was none.

"I don't hate you, Commander," she responded, not moving away from him. She stood her ground, refusing to give in to his aggressive nature.

"Coulda fooled me," he said, moving his face inches away from hers. "You've been nothing but hostile and condescending to me since you got on the ship. I want to know why."

T'Pol tilted her head upwards and narrowed her eyes. "Vulcans do not get 'hostile'. If you believe that that's the way I act towards you, you are delusional."

Trip smirked and shook his head. "I don't think so," he said, looking her over, "You want us all to believe you're hiding your emotions, but the truth is you can't help but be superior every chance you get."

"This is an obvious waste of time. You've never been able to see past your misconceptions about Vulcans, and you most likely never will." She clasped her hands behind her back and stood up straight, waiting for his response.

"Pot calling the kettle black."

She merely raised an eyebrow at his cryptic reply. She felt herself becoming antagonized by his smirk, so she stepped forward and leaned in close to him. "What do you want from me, Commander?"

Trip's eyes softened. He had never really thought about why he was so involved in this, but the answer escaped his lips easily. "I just want you to be happy."

T'Pol looked into his eyes, trying to make him understand how serious she was. "Then don't push."

Trip sighed sadly as she turned away and left his office.

*

T'Pol sat in Dr. Phlox's office awaiting the results of her scan. The Denobulan could sense her mood, her tension, even though she didn't speak.

"There could very well be an easy explanation for this, Sub-Commander," he said, pressing a few computer keys.

She looked up at him. "Such as?"

Phlox held his hands behind his back and walked over to her. "Well, you are telepathic. Perhaps keeping company with such emotional individuals has inadvertantly affected you. These outbursts could be something as simple as transferred emotions."

She clenched her jaw. "This has never happened to me before, nor to any other Vulcan who has spent time with Humans."

"But no Vulcan has ever spent this long in such close proximity." He smiled and went back to the computer. "Well, the results are in. You're perfectly healthy." He raised his eyebrows and glanced at her, hoping she'd understand that his first impression was most likely the correct one. "If I may, I'd like to suggest that you meditate more often. That might help you regain your control."

T'Pol didn't look very happy. "Thank you, Doctor," she said, hopping off the bio-bed and leaving Sickbay.

Phlox sighed. He only hoped she would be able to deal with this without resigning herself to defeat.

*

"She's unbelievable," exclaimed Trip between forkfuls of potatoes, "I don't know how the Cap'n can stand bein' around her all day."

Malcolm raised an eyebrow. "Maybe he's got a thing for her."

The engineer sneered. "No, he doesn't," he said, putting down his fork, "I guess maybe she just doesn't bother him like she does me."

"You do complain about her an lot," he replied, taking a sip of his tea. "Maybe you have a thing for her. All that built up tension..."

Trip rolled his eyes. "I'm tryin' to be serious here," he said, "I can't stand how she's always so damn superior."

Reed smiled. "She's a Vulcan," he said, alluding that that was explanation enough.

"She's a-nnoying," said Tucker, sticking out his tongue for effect.

"Well, you're going to have to get used to it. She's not going anywhere."

Trip sighed and leaned back in his chair. He didn't like being so irritatingly obsessed over someone. It was draining.

Malcolm rolled his eyes. "Are you pouting?"

"No," he said, frowning, "I'm thinking."

"Well, be careful," winked Reed, "You wouldn't want to end up in Sickbay."

Trip mocked a laugh as the security officer got up out of his chair. "See ya," he said, sinking down further in his seat after his friend was gone. "Don't come back soon."

*

T'Pol walked the hallways, her hands clasped behind her. While she was unhappy with what the doctor had told her, a part of her was relieved that there was a reasonable explanation for what had been happening to her.

She stepped into the Mess Hall to get a cup of mint tea, but stopped short when she noticed Commander Tucker sitting at a far table. He looked quite preoccupied and more than a little disheveled.

She straightened herself and walked over to where he was. "Commander?" she said, and he looked up at her slowly.

"Sub-Commander," he said, dropping his eyes to the table again. T'Pol ignored his demeanor and seated herself across from him.

"I want to apologize for my actions earlier," she said, and he immediately made eye contact with her. His eyes widened a bit, the very human look of surprise coming over his face. "I've been to see the Doctor, and he has given me an explanation for what has been occuring. The way I reacted this morning was irresponsible of me. I am sorry."

Trip looked downward for a second and a smirk spread across his lips. "It's all right," he said, sitting up, "You don't have to apologize. I shouldn't've gotten in your way."

"No, you shouldn't have," she said, raising an eyebrow. She was relieved when he smiled at her comment. "But my actions were still inappropriate."

"No harm done," he said, leaning forward. "So, what did the Doc say? Are you okay?"

She found herself pleased that he was taking an interest, and she wondered if that wasn't part of being in close proximity with him. Humans were still something she wasn't sure about, and Commander Tucker definitely was one of the more puzzling ones. Still, she liked him.

A brightness came over her features. "I will be."

*

END

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Three people have made comments

A nice, cute story...

I really liked this but wished the story had gone further. I know, I know, just being a greedy little fic-hound. Thanks for writing this and I hope you will consider a sequel. Ali D :~)

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