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The Morning After- Pt 3
The Morning After
A/N: This is a warning from the author to you: This fic is pure fluff. Nothing else. Don’t expect much serious sci-fi action. It is what it is, so have fun with it.
Rarely did Malcolm Reed let anything get under his skin. There were rare occasions when his temper got the better of him, of course, the altercation with Major Hayes being a classic example. He was human, after all. But most things, and most emotions, slid right on by him, never disturbing the placidity of his inner thoughts. If anything, Malcolm was a professional, and professionals did not let minor things like emotions get in the way of their duties.
That being the case, Malcolm was having difficulty adjusting to the turmoil that now resided in his mind. Waking up in bed with a woman as beautiful as Amanda Cole would disturb the mental tranquility of any red-blooded male. But it wasn’t as if he were having regrets about a one-night stand. It was deeper than that. Something that reached down into the pit of his darkest fears and dragged them all up, screaming, to the surface of his mind.
One thought kept echoing, despite his valiant attempts to suppress it: being with Amanda had made him feel more alone than ever.
A few months ago during the Xindi mission, he’d faced these fears in a less volatile form when they’d encountered the alternate Enterprise, the one manned by the original Enterprise’s descendants. It had been a severe blow to his ego to realize that he’d never managed to find a woman of his own and had died alone. Maybe his alternate self had found happiness in some other way, but that wasn’t the point. The point was this: Did Malcolm have something wrong with him, something that prevented him from finding someone who would love him?
Suddenly, Malcolm shuddered, jerking himself out of his gloomy thoughts. Focusing on the display in front of him, he presented the perfect picture of efficiency as he re-calibrated the phasers. He tried to focus his thoughts on more pleasant things, such as his recent promotion to Lt. Commander after the Xindi mission. But even as his fingers flew across the screen, his mind wandered again, the warmth he usually felt while pondering his promotion now eclipsed by this new discomfort. He paused, his breath catching, when he thought about what might happen when he saw Amanda again.
Damn it, the woman was gorgeous. All that thick, luxurious hair that smelled of apples when he’d buried his nose in it. Her smooth skin, stretched over tightly honed muscles, her body perfection in its healthiness. Just the thought of seeing her again made Malcolm’s pulse race, his face flush, his hands tremble. She was irresistible to him. It didn’t matter how she made him feel emotionally; the physical side was bloody fantastic and Malcolm wasn’t sure if he had enough willpower to resist when he saw her again.
He would just have to avoid her at all costs. Unless she approached him. And then, well, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just look.
A movement in Malcolm’s peripheral vision brought his thoughts back to the present once again. Hoshi walked out of the turbo lift, smiled at him tightly as she met his gaze, and hurried over to her station. She put her earphones on at once, obviously burying herself in her work. Concerned, Malcolm stared at her for a few more moments, willing her to look up at him, but she wouldn’t.
Just then, the display beeped at him, an indication that the calibration was complete. Malcolm was thankful to have his hands full, and pushed all thoughts of the delectable Amanda Cole to the back of his mind.
* * * * * *
Across the bridge, Hoshi stared down unseeingly at the console in front of her. The earpiece hugged her ear softly, the slight pressure comforting in its familiarity. The galactic background noise and the quiet hum of inactive subspace channels whirred like white noise, blocking out the other sounds of the bridge and giving Hoshi a sense of tranquility that she desperately needed right now. All she wanted to do was cry.
Humiliation had become her closest companion. Just being in the same room with Captain Archer made her knees weak, and it wasn’t from residual passion. She was utterly, completely mortified. She’d had sex with the captain, for Pete’s sake!
Her blush intensified as her thoughts traveled further along that path. Wow. There just wasn’t any other word for it. Opening those memories in her mind was like looking directly at the sun: irresistible, but damaging. Still, she couldn’t help but relive the sensations in her mind, his mouth hot and open, his tongue trailing her skin, his body covering hers. Hoshi shivered, then caught herself, dragging her eyes back to her console.
The whole incident wouldn’t have been nearly as mortifying if her feelings toward Captain Archer had been non-existent before it happened. But, loathe as she was to admit it, she’d always had a crush on him. There was just something about him, a commanding presence, a strength, a rugged sex appeal that made her fully aware of his perfect physique and herself as a woman. When he’d first asked her to be a part of Enterprise’s crew, she’d almost refused him solely because of that crush. There were other considerations, of course, her own fears being paramount, but her embarrassing feelings toward him nearly made her refuse outright. Just seeing him as he came to the school where she taught had made her heart race unnervingly. But in the end, his prompting had won her over and she’d come along.
Never had she regretted that decision more than she did today. She doubted she’d ever be the same again. And after what Dr. Phlox had just told her, she never would be. Neither of them would be. Like it or not, she would be tied to Jonathan Archer for the rest of her life because of this incident. Tears welled in her eyes as the futility of her situation washed over her.
Her mind wandered to Jonathan, her heart clenching painfully as she thought of him in sickbay where she’d left him. The doctor had revealed his news to her alone first, and after she’d nearly fainted from shock, she bolted up from the bio-bed and ran from the room, one desperate, wild glance into her captain’s concerned eyes. She didn’t want to think about what his reaction might be, even now as he heard the news himself.
But for her own sanity, she couldn’t dwell on that now.
Desperate to distract herself, Hoshi forced her fingers to press the correct areas on the screen, scanning every channel, looking for some abnormality in subspace that would divert her attention. Just when her brain was about to revert back to dangerous territory, a slight variance caught her ear and she sighed in relief.
Never had work been more welcome.
* * * * * * * *
T’Pol was annoyed.
She was standing in the corridor outside sickbay, her posture ramrod strait, perfect as always. At her side, Trip was tapping his fingers against the bulkhead, littlest finger to biggest, in a rhythm that grated on her ears. Thrrrmp. Thrrrmp. Thrrrmp. Every once in a while he’d vary his pattern, substituting an extra beat with his thumb or a click of his tongue.
It was, to use an Earth expression, driving her nuts.
To top it all off, when he wasn’t tapping, he was talking. And sometimes both at the same time.
“What do you think he’s tellin’ the captain in there?” Then he tapped his fingers again, as if to punctuate his question.
T’Pol clenched her teeth more tightly together and breathed deeply through her nose. It took a moment for her to unlock her jaw and answer. “It is not our business, Commander. Speculating is a futile use of our time.”
Trip snorted. “Yeah, and starin’ at sickbay’s doors is so much more productive.”
She frowned. She couldn’t exactly argue with that.
Persistence seemed to be another in the growing list of annoying traits. He continued tapping, then paused briefly to muse again.
“Hoshi sure looked freaked out. Ran out of there like a scared bunny rabbit. I wonder what the doc told her.”
T’Pol finally turned her head and deigned to look at him, shooting him a cool glance. “Again, it is not your business, nor mine. Hoshi’s medical records are her own personal affair.”
A disbelieving head shake was her answer. “You really think anybody’s business is going to be secret, T’Pol? The whole crew had sex last night because of some weird anomaly. Hoshi’s physical state is everybody’s business. And ours will be too, babe.”
She bristled at the endearment. “Please refrain from calling me ‘babe.’” He just grinned. “And I find it unlikely that the entire crew engaged in sexual relations last night. Our male to female ratio is not equal.”
“Not everybody swings that way, darlin’.”
A frown crossed her face. “I suppose you are correct. However, if I use my own experience as a basis, I would assume that everyone was driven to mate, not to purely satisfy lustful urges.”
“What difference does that make?”
She sighed. “It doesn’t matter. We will not have a conclusion until Dr. Phlox completes his analysis of the crew.”
They fell silent, save the continued tapping of Trip’s fingers. He’d shifted position, now leaning back, his shoulder blades touching the wall. Now all his fingers were engaged, increasing the volume.
T’Pol turned away again, facing the doors and reminding herself that she was a Vulcan, and Vulcans do not get annoyed. Vulcans do not let irritation force themselves into violent acts like ripping appendages from the bodies of one’s crewmates. She closed her eyes and tried to meditate briefly. The Vulcan mind should be calm. Placid. Tranquil. Unburdened by—
“The cap’n almost ran out after her, didja notice that?”
The question jerked T’Pol out of meditation just seconds before she achieved the mental tranquility she sought. She remained silent and gritted her teeth.
Trip laughed behind her. “Kinda funny, isn’t it? Hoshi and the captain? I think he’s always been attracted to her, but he’d never admit it.”
“Nor should he,” she couldn’t help but add. “He is her commanding officer and far above her rank. A relationship between them would be inadvisable, not to mention inappropriate.”
“Well, these aren’t exactly normal circumstances, T’Pol.” His voice softened, and T’Pol knew he was thinking of them now, not the captain.
“I do not need to be reminded.” Her voice was harsher than she’d intended.
Just then, the doors to sickbay swished open and Captain Archer strode out, his face pale. To Trip’s eye, long experienced where the captain was concerned, Archer looked as though he’d just been through the wringer.
Before either of them could say anything, he spoke. “You can go in now.”
“Are you well, Captain?” T’Pol asked, her voice soft.
Archer stared at them, something indefinable in his eyes. “Yeah.”
“And Hoshi?” Trip said, concern flooding his blue eyes.
Archer could only nod. “I’ll explain later. You two had better get in there. Phlox has a lot of examinations to do and I want answers as quickly as possible.”
“Aye, Cap’n,” Trip said, then watched as Archer strode down the corridor. A feeling of helplessness settled in the pit of Trip’s stomach as he watched him go.
T’Pol made a move for the door, but Trip reached a hand out and clasped her shoulder, stopping her. “Hold on a minute, T’Pol.”
She turned to look at him. “We should go in, Trip. The captain was right. Delay would not be helpful.”
“I don’t think I wanna go in there,” he said, a frown on his face. “People haven’t been gettin’ good news out of the Doc today, whatever it’s been.”
“You are being paranoid, Commander,” T’Pol said sternly. “And we do not have a choice.” The doors opened as she moved towards them and crossed the threshold.
Trip sighed, but followed. “I know, but my gut tells me that when we walk back out these doors, our lives will have been turned upside down.”
Dr. Phlox studied the scans he’d just taken of Hoshi and Archer. He pressed a button on the view screen, and the brains magnified, side by side. He studied for a moment, then frowned and muttered unintelligibly.
Another click and Archer’s brain disappeared. He then called up a scan of Hoshi’s brain taken at her physical two months ago when they’d been in spacedock. Side by side, the two scans seemed almost identical, slight variations seemingly innocuous, the results of a brain’s evolution over time.
Phlox moved his finger to the console, ready to click away the images, but a small area in the more recent image caught his eye. He squinted, scrutinizing it, then compared it to the earlier image. A few more clicks on the console and he had another brain scan displayed, this from a different angle. The area he’d noticed was clearer in this image, and it confirmed what he’d suspected even before the examination.
A quick check of Archer’s brain scans gave him the same information. Phlox had no doubts that after scans of everyone on board, he’d find the same results. The area of the brain that controlled procreation had seen extreme levels of activity in the last twenty four hours.
Further analysis of the body scans showed increased hormone levels of all kinds, elevated heart rates, elevated temperatures, and a plethora of other symptoms one would expect after a series of events like those of last night.
These discoveries answered the “what” question, but definitely not the “how” or “why.”
Phlox was unsure that examinations of the rest of the crew would give him any more information than he had right now, but he had to try. There was little choice.
Across sickbay, the doors opened. T’Pol strode in, Commander Tucker close behind her. Trip was talking, but Phlox didn’t listen. He closed the scans on his monitor and then moved over to them.
“T’Pol, Trip. How are you feeling?”
Trip looked at T’Pol for a minute before answering. “I’m fine, doc, all things considered. I’m not feelin’ anything like I was last night.”
Phlox smiled deeply at that. “Well, that is encouraging. I would like to begin by stating that you have a right to be examined separately, the results of your information to remain private. I should warn you, however, that due to the unusual nature of the circumstances, it is likely that your health will be discussed in command staff meetings, although all results will be kept anonymous, of course.”
“I understand, doc. I don’t mind T’Pol bein’ here.” He looked at her again, searching her face, but he didn’t find what he was looking for. “Frankly, I’d appreciate the moral support. Your clientele isn’t lookin’ too perky after leavin’ here today.”
Phlox sighed. “I know. T’Pol?”
She seemed to consider his words. “Since Commander Tucker and I were together last night, I find it illogical for him to be absent from my examination. It is likely that we have affected each other through this anomaly.”
“You may be right. Up on the scanning bed, Mr. Tucker.”
Several minutes later, both T’Pol and Tucker had been scanned, the images of their bodies displayed on the monitors. Phlox began to analyze them, sounds of discovery, satisfaction, and dismay issuing from his mouth from time to time.
Sitting on a bio-bed, Trip waited anxiously. He chanced a look at T’Pol. She stood near him, her brown eyes focused on the screen as Phlox worked. Nothing in her demeanor conveyed nervousness, and Trip supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Despite her volatile emotions last year, she had regained much of her control and it was almost impossible for the outsider to notice that she’d ever been different than your average, emotionless Vulcan.
But Trip had come to know her well. He could see slight signs of her wariness: the clench of her fists, the extra starch in her spine, the slight flare of her nostrils when Phlox changed an image on the screen too quickly for her tastes. Seeing those little things made Trip relax slightly. Unable to help himself, he reached a hand out and laid it lightly on her lower back, his thumb brushing her briefly. He felt her tense, then relax.
T’Pol didn’t acknowledge the touch at all, and that in itself spoke volumes.
After what seemed like years to Trip, Phlox turned away from the monitor and stared at them for a few moments. He seemed to be looking for words, as if unable to find the right ones to tell them their current status.
Finally, he sighed. “I need to clarify some things with T’Pol before I make my final diagnosis.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Very well, doctor. What do you wish to ask me?”
“The questions will be very personal in nature. They concern a topic that is considered closed for non-Vulcans, or so I have been told.”
T’Pol bristled at the words, and Trip’s thumb rubbed her back again. She relaxed minutely.
“I will answer your questions, doctor.”
“With Commander Tucker present?” He pushed, wanting clarification.
She gritted her teeth. “Yes.” If the doctor was implying what she suspected, Trip would have to know eventually.
“Good,” he said curtly. “Did you experience any symptoms of Pon Farr last night?”
“Pon Farr?” Trip asked.
“It is the Vulcan cycle of mating,” T’Pol said softly. To Phlox, she answered, “Yes and no. I experienced an elevation of body temperature and a desperate desire to mate. I did not, however, initiate a mating bond with the Commander.”
Phlox nodded. “I understand. Were your symptoms relieved as the night wore on?”
T’Pol shifted on her feet. “Yes.”
“Do you retain any of the symptoms now?”
She seemed to consider this, then shook her head. “No. I have some residual restlessness that I do not usually have, but none of the symptoms I had last year.”
That comment caught Trip’s ear. “What happened last year?”
T’Pol ignored him, and Phlox sent a quelling look his way. He didn’t press the issue.
“Very well,” Phlox said finally. “I do have some good news. Trip, you seem to be in perfect health, your scans showing only a slight variance from your physical at spacedock two months ago. There are some residual symptoms that I suspect will decline over the next few days, but otherwise, there is nothing to report.”
Trip sagged with relief. After seeing the captain’s face outside, he’d been prepared for the worst.
“T’Pol, your situation is more complicated. As you know, the cycle of Pon Farr initiates ovulation in Vulcan females. They are not able to conceive without it, although Pon Farr is not required for sexual activity.”
A weight began to grow in Trip’s gut as his analytical mind pieced together Phlox’s information. He didn’t like where this was going.
The doctor continued. “As I suspected after looking at the test results, and confirmed by your answers to my questions, the anomaly experienced by the crew in the last twenty-four hours activated the cycle of Pon Farr in your body. But because it was not natural, it did not run its course.”
“Then there is no cause for concern,” T’Pol concluded.
“Quite the opposite, actually,” Phlox countered. “Your body was in Pon Farr long enough for you to ovulate. And because of your sexual contact with Commander Tucker last night, nature prevailed.”
“What exactly are you sayin’, doc?” Trip’s face had lost it’s color.
Phlox was not one to mince words. “T’Pol is pregnant.”
* * * * *
Malcolm clutched the PADD in his hand as if it were necessary for his very survival. The door in front of him beckoned, making him shift in nervousness. He knew he didn’t have to be here; he could carry out the Captain’s orders in a much less personal fashion. In fact, because he knew her whereabouts, he didn’t even have to contact her. But something inexplicable had drawn him to these quarters, and he could no more leave than he could stop breathing. He had to be here.
Straightening his shoulders, Malcolm took a deep breath and reached his hand over to ring the door chime. He’d barely moved when the door swished open and Amanda walked out, her head down, and smacked right into him. His hands came up and grasped her upper arms, steadying her as she began to lose her balance.
Amanda made a startled sound, but quickly regained her composure. She backed away from him and Malcolm’s hands fell from her arms, dropping to his sides.
When she remained silent, Malcolm cleared his throat, then brought his eyes to her face.
She seemed mesmerized by the emblem on his chest, and it was a few moments before she raised her eyes to meet his. When she did, Malcolm was suddenly overwhelmed by the sensation of drowning.
After a few magnetic seconds, Malcolm blushed and looked away. “I need to speak with you,” he said tersely, his voice deeper than usual.
“Okay,” she said softly, then shifted on her feet, obviously uncomfortable. “Do you want to go to the mess hall?”
He shrugged. “It’s personal, Amanda. I have to question you about last night.” He raised the PADD and waved it around haphazardly. “Officially, of course.”
She frowned at him for a minute as if seeing the holes in his argument. He should know the answers to her questions since he was with her. But she backed up and let him in her quarters anyway.
The door closed behind them, the soft swish the only sound as they stood awkwardly facing one another. After a moment, Malcolm raised the PADD and pressed a few buttons, clearing his throat.
“Are you ready, Corporal?”
She seemed to jerk a bit at the formal designation, but she nodded anyway. “Go ahead, Commander.”
“When did you first notice something out of the ordinary?” Malcolm wanted to look up at her, but he couldn’t trust himself. He kept his eyes glued to the PADD.
Amanda frowned as she thought about it. “I think it was when I was in the armory, checking the weapons for malfunctions. I started to get kinda hot.” She paused, then blushed as she realized the double meaning of her words. “I—I mean hot as in not cold, like in temperature, not—”
“I understand,” Malcolm said tersely, cutting her off. “Go on.”
“Okay, well, I finished checking them and decided to go back to my quarters to take a shower. That’s when I started to feel like I was going to burst out of my skin. It was so weird,” she said, getting lost in the memory. “I remember looking frantically for something, but I didn’t know what. I just knew I needed something, someone, to take the feeling away. And then it got worse.”
Malcolm was reliving his own experiences as she chronicled hers, and he knew what was coming next. He swallowed harshly and raised his eyes to meet hers. “How?” he finally asked.
Suddenly, Amanda felt out of breath. “I don’t want to describe it,” she said softly. “It’s too embarrassing. But I started getting really out of control, and I was almost back to my quarters. But then I saw you, and I just felt drawn in.”
“Like you couldn’t help it.” Malcolm walked closer to her, setting the PADD down on the table near her hip.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “All I can remember is that I needed you. I wanted you. And I wasn’t—”
“You weren’t going to let anything stop you.” He moved closer, lost in the depths of her eyes.
“That’s about the size of it,” she said with a short laugh, but her smile fell away almost immediately. They stared at each other a moment longer, pulled by the desire in each other’s eyes. The anomaly was no longer influencing them, but the memories of their night together were strong and difficult to ignore.
Malcolm’s fingers itched to touch her; he could smell her apple shampoo from where he stood, scant inches from her. He knew it was a moment of reckoning. He had to make his move or leave; they couldn’t stand here all night and stare at each other. Absurdly, he considered that and decided it wouldn’t be all that unpleasant.
In the end, Amanda made the first move. Against everything within her that screamed for her to flee, the stubble on his chin drew in, her hand coming up to stroke it gently. She nearly whimpered at the rough sensation on her fingertips, a myriad of memories assaulting her from the night before.
The gentle movement was the spark to Malcolm’s smoldering flame. He ignited, his arms wrapping around her in a powerful grip, palms splayed across her back as his mouth assaulted hers in a kiss that was fierce in its intensity. It took only a moment for her to wrap one arm around his neck, her fingers splaying in his hair, the other arm snaking around his waist, her hand grabbing his behind and squeezing firmly. Malcolm moaned into her mouth and she molded her body to his.
After that, everything became a sea of sensation as they shared in the pleasure of each other’s bodies and turned off the doubts of their minds. It didn’t matter that they had no romantic feelings towards each other. For now, the euphoria of physical pleasure was all that mattered.
Have a comment to make about this story? Do so in the Trip Fan Fiction forum at the HoTBBS!
A whole mess of folks have made comments
Oh this is funny! Sexy and funny. I liked the scene with Trip and T'Pol, as well as the Amanda/Reed stuff. I'm not sure I'm on board with the Hoshi/Archer "thing" yet, but it's growing on me. Cute fic!
Oh my gosh, what will Starfleet say? I'm loving this little twist that's coming about, and I'm really enjoying your writing style. The Cchoice of detail and syntax are intriguing. Looking forward to more!
I'm loving this so far! The Trip/T'Pol stuff was great. I'm with Jenna on the Hoshi/Archer thing. It's growing on me, but it's not there yet. Hoshi deserves better! Ahem...I mean...yeah...Please update soon!
Hehhe. If I had my way, Archer would have been one of the ones who passed out from not getting any, and Travis would have gotten Hoshi.
But hey, maybe their baby will be cute. That would soften me up. I really hope you go all the way with this. All the female human crew members giving birth at once would be ridiculous, but really funny. Poor Phlox.
Oh God, what a "wonderful" situation for all of them. ;-)))) Great story, I´m waiting desperately for more!
Oh God, my head is spinning! I'm trying to figure out how all this will play out. I don't have a clue, please post your next chapter soon :)
Very fun filled and a nice light hearted take that was very satisfying. Ali D :~)
Love it! It is hot!
Very good! Thanks for posting this and please post more soon!
More -- Please -- Soon!!!
This is so great! I love this story!! Wonderful humor and sensuality - WOW! I can't wait for the next chapter!!
i guess i am just odd..
To pooka: Yes, I would agree with you under normal circumstances. This would be deplorable and immoral, but this is a fantasy, written for our benefit. Not only that, it seems the angle the story is taking, if you reread really carefully, someone or something is fulfiling each couple's heartfelt desire, that they are, under normal circumstances, too inhibited or afraid to act upon.
OOPS! Sorry, I misspelled your name pookha!
Great story! I'm really enjoying the Archer/Hoshi bit (despite having gone on record as saying that Malcolm and Hoshi belong together) and, of course, the Trip/T'Pol scenes are fabulous. Also loved your writing style -- lines/phrases like "the clenching of her fists, the extra starch in her spine" to describe T'Pol's state make this an absolutely amazing fanfic. Oh, and thanks for NOT ending this chapter with Trip's line: " . . . my gut tells me . . . our lives will have been turned upside down." Would have driven me crazy! Hope the next chapter's up soon.
To Pookha & Scarletwitch (& anybody else who's in the same frame of mind):
The reasons for all this will be explained in subsequent chapters. I know the idea is a little harebrained, but that's half the fun of writing it. :D And I assure you, I won't let the long-term consequences be all flowers and fun, because they wouldn't be in a situation like this.
Overall, the story will be fluff, but I think you're right in that these events would affect the crew's lives in a really dramatic way.
besides, you can always e-mail me if you have serious negative complaints or suggestions. I don't get too freaked out by constructive criticism, so feel free to send it my way.
Thanks to everyone who's enjoying this so far! Next chapters will be up within the next week or so.
I love this story, because (even if its done in a fluffy way) its exploring the way the characters interact with each other, and how well they can cope with a difficult situation.
Although I've always been a Hoshi/Malcolm supporter, I can see the relationship between Hoshi and Archer, because they do have great on-screen chemistry. The way you're writing them and the difficulties that sleeping together has caused rings very true. For a fluff story, the level of mortification that you're allowing them both to feel is quite startling.
It's also believable that Trip and T'Pol are going to handle things better than other people. They've met a son they had together in another time-line, they've slept together before and managed to mantain a strong bond of friendship. They may be pretty pissy with each other, well, T'Pol pissy with Trip really, but they're still capable of showing a united front.
I like the way you're portraying Malcolm and Amanda as well. They don't know what the consequences of their coupling are yet. If Amanda is pregnant as well, I think their new found lust for each other is going to take a beating...and Malcolm's fears of dying without leaving any heirs are going to disappear in a puff of smoke (if she keeps the baby!)
See what you did! You made me babble!
I wait with bated breath for the next installment!
CAn you really tell if your pregnent the morning after? I thought it took a little while. Cant wait for the next chapter
You know, I had a different version of the sickbay written w/ Archer where Dr. PHlox explained that with "the advances of medical science pregnancy can be detected very early" but I cut it in favor of the T/T scene in this chapter. So, anyway, I guess you can just suppose that Phlox's instruments can detect what our present ones can't.
VulcanElf and DestinyGirl:
It makes perfect sense. While I was trying to become pregnant, my doctor took a blood test and told me I was pregnant with my son. It was accurate 8 days after his conception. So, in the future, it is conceiveable that an embryo can be dected in 24 hours.