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Pathways - Part 2

Author - Energy4TripnT’Pol
Fan Fiction Main Page | Stories sorted by title, author, genre, and rating

TRIP/T’POLERS MU FANFIC CHALLENGE

Pathways

By Energy4TripnT’Pol

Rating: PG
Disclaimer: ~ an episode of “Star Trek: Enterprise: $ on Paramount’s budget. Getting Trip and T’Pol together: priceless for us desperate fanfic writers. So no, I’m not making money and Paramount owns the series and all the characters involved. ~
Genre: Of course romance, slight angst, some mystery, just a hint of everything else . . .
Summary: When Enterprise comes upon a “mirror” Enterprise, they keep tabs on them from afar and T’Pol is sent for recon. However, taking her counterpart’s place makes her learn a lesson about the man in love with her. Meanwhile, Trip wonders why he is feeling telepathic in regards to T’Pol.
Spoilers: Includes a few things I’ve heard about “Through a Mirror, Darkly”, a little of “The Aenar”, “Affliction”, and “Bound”
Archiving: I would prefer that people don’t archive my story.

PART II (Chapters 6-10)
* * *

CHAPTER SIX

As Tucker walked away from the turbolift, heading to the captain’s quarters, he saw a barely clad Hoshi Sato slightly sulking away from the general direction. She scowled at Trip and bypassed him without any regard. He didn’t care; he wasn’t in the mood for trouble.

In all honesty, the engineer had a fleeting suspicion about the captain and the communication officer. However, he realized, voicing this opinion was a death sentence. He compared it to the private knowledge of his marriage to T’Pol, realizing it carried the sentence as well, and stopped in his tracks. Nah, he thought. I gotta stop thinking about this. I gotta stop thinking about a lot of things. He shook his head, clearing the thoughts.

He stood at the captain’s doors for a second, and then rang the chime. Archer replied, “Come.”

Trip entered.

Archer was sitting at his desk, reading a report. He didn’t glance up at Trip, but assuming his presence, asked, “How’s Travis?”

“In a lot better condition than our tactical officer assumes. That transporter trick worked pretty well – for now,” Trip said, slightly shrugging.

Archer chuckled mirthlessly. “Hmm. Well. Maybe a few days in Cargo Bay One without atmosphere controls will do him some good.”

Trip cleared his throat. Right now, he knew that Cargo Bay One’s temperature was about freezing. “So . . . did you need something?”

“No, but you do.”

Trip arched his brow. “What would that be?”

Archer stood, walked to his cabinet, and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of brown fluid. “You need a belt.”

Trip smiled the most he had for quite some time. “Welcome back.”

* * *

“And then, he jumped up in the air, ranting and raving like an idiot, and he said, ‘I don’t need you, I just want the beer!’ And he collapsed on the table!”

Archer laughed along with his friend as Trip recanted a previous drinking binge. He leaned back and slightly groaned. “Oh, I think we’re both drunk.”

“Yeah. Anybody in mind for a prank while we can get away with it?”

The captain’s mind began wandering through possibilities. “Well, there is one thing. A certain bridge officer has an annoying facial hair problem.”

Trip smiled grimly. “I know who you’re talking about. I’m just worried he might shoot us after the deed. He’d be justified.”

Archer and Tucker regarded each other in silence for a few moments, contemplating whether or not the joke was worth the consequences.

In sync, they spoke. “I’ll get the razor.” “I’ll get the straps.”

* * *

A few minutes later, Malcolm Reed awoke in a most unusual position.

He was strapped to the bunk in his quarters. Archer and Tucker were standing above him; Archer was slightly grinning and Tucker was standing guard by the door. “Lieutenant.”

The captain was cynical – and Malcolm was worried for his own safety. “What happened?”

“Well, when I was trying to sleep last night, I thought of something that would make me feel better.”

“Sir?”

“All right, Reed, I’ll come out. That goatee is the most annoying thing on this ship.”

Tucker smirked and didn’t try to hide it.

Archer glanced at the razor resting on the desk.

Reed quickly realized what was happening.

“Oh, dear God!”

* * *

The next morning, Reed arrived on the Bridge and Archer made a mental note to humiliate him the next chance he got. Tucker was sitting at his station and glanced to the captain. The helmsman looked up. “Lieutenant,” he said, talking to Malcolm, the only person on the Bridge by that rank, “what happened to your goatee?”

Archer sat back in his chair and relaxed. Maybe this kid was better than Travis, he thought to himself. He’s doing my handiwork without realizing it.

Reed had two options; one was tell the truth and face punishment from the captain and two was make an excuse.

Or option three: he pulled back his fist and extended it.

At his station, Trip winced. The kid never had a chance.

He was lying on the floor in less than a second. Reed only shrugged. “None of his business.”

The others on the Bridge only looked for a second and then went back to their work. None of them were looking for a black eye. Two security guards came and removed the helmsman’s unconscious form from the Bridge. They were taking him to Sickbay, and Archer couldn’t think of a good reason why. Whenever he was a kid and picked a fight with the wrong person, all he got was an icepack.

Archer shrugged mentally. This kid was good, but he didn’t deserve a spa treatment.

“Lieutenant.”

Reed looked up, not even cowering. “Sir.”

“Call your men. Tell them to take Parsons to Cargo Bay One.”

Reed showed his trademark smirk. “With pleasure.”

While he busied himself in that, the Vulcan checked a display and appeared slightly concerned. Archer wondered if the interrogations were getting through to her. “Captain. I’m detecting nebulae along our present course.”

The captain sighed softly. Oh, well. We might as well do some exploring while we’re out here. “What’s our ETA?”

“Two hours.”

“Anything interesting about it?”

“I’m detecting a subspace anomaly,” T’Pol answered. “It appears to be stable. I believe that subspace anomalies are capable of providing transportation to alternate realities.”

Alternate realities, hmm? Archer nodded. “Set course, Ensign. Present speed.”

The new ensign at the helm nodded and adjusted exactly so. Apparently, she wasn’t in the mood for a beating.

Neither was he. After Reed’s last incident, he had been massaging his hand. Apparently, he wasn’t as tough as he seemed.

Trip scooted his chair around to face Malcolm. “Hey, Malcolm. How’s the manicure?”

Reed scowled, but didn’t act. Trip slightly chuckled and walked to the turbolift. “I’ve gotta few things to check in Engineering. I’ll check in later.”

Archer didn’t reply; his mind was swarmed with possibilities. If the Vulcan was right, if this anomaly would be able to move them between realities, then maybe he could do some damage on other people’s lives. Or maybe, just to show T’Pol his good side, he’d be lenient.

Lenient? No. That wasn’t Archer, not at all.

Good side? No. Archer didn’t have one.

At least, not one that he knew about.


* * *
CHAPTER SEVEN

For some reason, Trip couldn’t bring himself to look at T’Pol. She was standing next to him, fairly close to him in the turbolift, and she seemed to find the wall more interesting than Trip.

He quietly groaned.

She turned and looked at him. “Is there something wrong?”

Trip stared at the wall. “I’m okay. Just a little worried about the captain.”

“Captain Archer doesn’t appear ill.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said, turning around. He ran his hand through his hair. “Aw, never mind. Lousy excuse.”

“What’s wrong, Trip?”

Anytime she used his nickname, instead of calling him by his rank or last name, sometimes it sent chills down his spine. He sighed again. “Honestly, I’m just worried about you.”

“What for?”

“You just rushed off the Bridge after the captain asked you to do recon.”

“I was being truthful. I still have some visuals to memorize. I also need a change of uniform.”

“Tell you what, I’ll go talk to the quartermaster and you take care of the visuals.”

T’Pol nodded in agreement. “I believe that will work to our benefit. When I beam over—“

“Whoa,” Trip said, “hold on. What’s this about beaming over?”

“Their shuttlepods are accounted for. My counterpart is on the ship. I need to be transported directly into my counterpart’s quarters.”

“I have a feeling that can be arranged.”

“Good.”

“Anything else you want to tell me, while we’re at it?” Trip said, slightly joking.

T’Pol caught on and played along. “I need you—“

“I knew it,” he muttered under his breath.

T’Pol glared at him as they exited the turbolift. “—to keep a lock on me at all times and to man the transporter constantly.”

“You got it. Anything else?”

She paused walking. “I believe that is all for now.”

“I’ll meet you in the observation room in half an hour or so.”

“I will be ready to go.”

With that, they nodded and separated, going in opposite directions. However, neither of them knew that as soon as the other rounded a corner out of sight, they stopped and sulked against a bulkhead. Both of them were unsure of what the immediate future would bring. And both were worried to death.

* * *

As promised, Trip met T’Pol as she walked out of the observation room. “Ha, caught you,” he teased.

She ignored the statement. “Did you find a . . . an accurate outfit?”

Trip held out the garment bag as they walked. “Yep. But I can’t say anything as to its form.”

“I believe that you, of all people on this ship, took care to cut it as you saw fit.”

“I’m not sure whether that was a complement or a joke.”

“Neither. It was a fact.”

Trip nodded. “Yeah, right.”

She stopped walking outside a door, and Trip realized rather awkwardly that he had walked with her right to her quarters and thought nothing of it. “Allow me a few minutes to change and I would appreciate it if you . . . guard me on the way to the transporter.”

He nodded. “You bet.”

She took the bag and went inside.

Trip stood guard outside, and two minutes later she opened the door again.

He was slightly aghast. The outfit fit better than he thought it would. It was gray with tints of green, low cut at the knees, but a thin layer of blue fabric extended downwards for a few inches. The tips of the sleeves extended to her elbows, and the same slight material covered her arms.

All in all, she was beautiful.

And all Trip could do was stare like an idiot.

T’Pol looked at her outfit and back up to Trip. “I believe you’ve surpassed yourself, Commander.”

He shrugged good-naturedly. “I think I was a fashion designer in another life.” Then, feeling protective, he asked, “Shall we?” and motioned to the empty corridor.

Trip walked in front of her; T’Pol was slightly hanging back while he checked the corridors. After what seemed a lifetime, they reached the turbolift. He opened the door and let her quickly step in, and after one last check he stepped in.

Trip sighed, and then pressed the button for the transporter while T’Pol slightly shivered. Looking concerned, he asked, “You okay?”

Inwardly, he was bracing for a stubborn reply, but for some reason she answered, “This outfit clearly isn’t designed for comfort.”

“Cold?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Well then, that just gives you all the more reason to hurry up and get back here.”

“Along with your undying concern for me to return?” she asked, almost jokingly as she raised her eyebrows.

Trip grinned. “Something like that.”

T’Pol took one step forward towards him. “Trip. I’ll be fine.”

“I know,” he answered in the most serious and reassuring tone he could give himself.

The doors opened and T’Pol skidded behind him again. Trip checked, allowed two passing crewmen to walk on by, and then led her out into the corridors. He took the shortest route that he could to the empty transport platform; T’Pol had requested that no one else be present, given her current uniform.

Also, because of her current uniform, they realized that they didn’t really have time to say good-bye, be careful, or any of the things that were on Trip’s mind. “So,” he said, shuffling his feet at the controls.

T’Pol took one step to him, stood up slightly, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. When she stepped back, Trip looked reassured. Or as much as he could muster.

“I may be in need of emergency beam-out,” she said.

Trip completed the thought. “I’ll be here.”

With one last look, she stepped up on the platform and said, “Energize.”

He had no idea what awaited the woman he loved on the other side. And as she dissolved, so did Trip’s heart.

* * *

As T’Pol appeared in her counterpart’s quarters, she braced herself. She didn’t know if this T’Pol was in her quarters. She didn’t know if anyone else was, either. And then the doors opened. Quickly, T’Pol retreated to the closet.

She breathed a quiet sigh of relief. It was T’Pol. From what she could tell, this T’Pol didn’t seem too inclined to violence. And neither did T’Pol.

She watched her counterpart sit down at her desk. As interesting as this was, T’Pol needed to switch soon. But she picked a file off her computer, loaded it to a padd, and began to rise again.

T’Pol made her move. From the closet, she mocked the call of a sehlat. It was sure to worry any Vulcan, regardless. From her seat, she quickly moved to the door, past the closet—

--Just as T’Pol’s hand snaked out with a hidden hypospray to touch her neck. Phlox said that judging from this T’Pol having the same body mass, albeit not much, as T’Pol, it would effectively render her unconscious for five hours. And that was what she needed, perhaps more. She hid her counterpart in the closet, exactly where T’Pol had been hiding only a few seconds earlier.

T’Pol picked the padd up off the floor, reviewed the material, and assumed it was needed on the Bridge. And now remembering this Archer’s personality and what he did to those whom were late, she straightened her outfit and exited the quarters.


* * *
CHAPTER EIGHT

Archer watched the turbolift as the Vulcan exited. He was about to chastise her for being late, but she had changed her outfit and it was much more appealing.

At the Engineering station, Tucker didn’t even look up. Archer smiled inwardly. Good. She hasn’t been getting through to him.

Instead, she handed him the padd. “I apologize for my tardiness, Captain.”

“Not a problem . . . T’Pol.”

She didn’t seem to notice the inflection he was putting on it; she took her station and went back to her scans.

Archer only smiled. There was something going on, in the deep chasms of her Vulcan mind, and whatever it was, it had to be good if it was inciting her to wear – frankly, something Hoshi wouldn’t have thought of wearing.

But then again, Hoshi was never big on clothing.

Yeah, there was something going on. And he fully intended on finding it out.

* * *

On the Bridge, Malcolm Reed was stroking his chin, reminiscent of his missing goatee. He had done a double-take, covertly, when T’Pol came on the Bridge. He had noticed the same thing as Archer: her new dress.

Hmm, he quietly wondered. Perhaps there was a reason why she had begun dressing more serenely, more sensually.

It couldn’t be that she was chasing a man. After all, the captain, no less the tactical officer, would know if she was associating with anyone on this ship. Even though the captain had made a point of no-fraternization with the Vulcan, Malcolm thought perhaps he might pay her a visit. Late night, she would be dressed even less.

Inside his head, Malcolm repressed a menacing smile and returned to his work.

* * *

On Enterprise, Trip couldn’t have been pried away from the transporter console if the entirety of MACOs onboard tried.

T’Pol had been gone for only half an hour. He didn’t expect her to return to the ship with all the data she needed in that amount of time; she had to blend in and was probably on duty.

And waiting was no less difficult the more time that went by. It constituted torture.

At least, for him.

Around the corner, he saw Captain Archer pass a padd to a crewman and walk towards him. “Any word yet?”

Trip could only shake his head. “Nothing so far.”

Archer nodded at him. “Let me know when she contacts you.”

Under his breath, “Ya bet I will,” and just as Archer was about to walk off down the corridor, he stopped and looked at Trip.

“Commander?”

Busted. I should’ve kept my mouth shut.

Trip turned his face for a second, and then said, “You remember when I wanted that transfer to Columbia? And I refused to tell you why?”

Archer’s face narrowed. “Yeah?”

“It was because of T’Pol. At the time, I couldn’t focus on work and her without letting her get the better of me. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it was.”

“And what happened after our warp engines were sabotaged? When you came back?”

“I made Captain Hernandez see that someone on board Enterprise was vital to my well-being. She let me come back,” he said with a shrug. “I got their engines running. She didn’t really care after that.”

In truth, she and Trip had a long disagreement over dinner about whether or not he should return to his ship. But he chose not to mention this.

“So I came back to Enterprise. For pretty much the same excuse I had the first time around. I was the only one capable of fixing the engines after they got screwed with. And I need T’Pol,” he said quietly, glancing to the platform that he was waiting for her to reappear on. “More than ever.”

Archer could have been knocked over with a feather. In all the years he had known Trip what he had just said was the most sincere thing he had ever heard him say.

He couldn’t think of anything to say that would top that. Instead, Archer just put a hand on Trip’s shoulder, trying to reassure him. “Don’t worry, she’ll be back soon. She’ll be okay.”

Trip nodded. And instantly after, his attention was back on the console, awaiting her call.

Archer rounded the opposite corner and sunk against a wall for a moment, his earlier thoughts about no-fraternization back in his mind. Based on what Trip had just said, he would leave well enough alone. It had gotten to be a problem earlier and it skipped over his mind, Trip making the excuse for leaving and all. But with his devotion to T’Pol, Archer would hate himself if he broke it up.

So he cleaned the thoughts out of his mind, straightened, and walked back down the corridor like nothing had happened.

* * *

T’Pol entered her quarters after a shift. For some reason, Archer had dismissed her early. She didn’t mind; it gave her more time to gather data from the computer banks. Humans had an expression, “A picture is worth a thousand words.” When it came to their counterpart’s personalities, she had much writing to do.

She glanced at the chronometer. She assumed Trip – this Trip – would be off duty soon. He would probably swing by her quarters, given the secret wedding band that her Trip had found in the photos. She took a moment to glance around her counterpart’s quarters. They were spartanly decorated, much less than her own.

And then the chime rang. Knowing the circumstances of who was standing outside but, being considerate that whoever it was might be suspicious of a hasty greeting, she replied, “Come in.”

There was Trip Tucker. He slanted against the wall by the door, glancing at her. “What’s up with the dress change earlier?”

She knew he would notice, even though he didn’t directly look at her on the Bridge. “I spilled . . . tea on myself, this morning. I’ve been clumsy as of late.”

“Clumsy is one thing I would’ve never pegged you for,” Trip said, pushing himself up. Walking towards her, almost shyly, he asked, “Did you forget?”

T’Pol’s mind began running with possibilities. “I’m sorry. I’ve been preoccupied today.”

“It’s okay. Let me refresh your memory.” He nodded at the bed. “One year ago today, I proposed to you. And then I nearly lost my head when I whisked you off to Earth and got married the next day. Remember now?” he said with his little quirky grin.

“It’s hard to forget something,” T’Pol said, choosing her words carefully, not knowing the exact details, “that changes your life for the better.”

Trip smiled at her. For some reason, his smile was even more disarming to her than her Trip’s smile was. “Thanks,” he said, closing the gap in between them. Right as the comm rang.

“Bridge to T’Pol.”

Trip kept deathly silent. T’Pol knew if he didn’t that it might be his end. “Go ahead, Captain.”

“Have you seen Commander Tucker anywhere?”

“The last time I saw him he was walking the corridors on E-deck. I didn’t stop to enquire of what he was doing.”

“Good girl. Archer out.”

As she shut off the comm, Trip bristled. “If I wouldn’t get killed for it, I’d stroll right up there and knock his daylights out. ‘Good girl,’ what’s that all about?”

“Apparently, the captain believes that he is exempt from the no-fraternization rule regarding me.”

“Has he been making passes at you?”

“Trip . . .” she said, stroking his cheek. “I’m fine. Honestly.”

He sighed then cocked his head. “My T’Pol. My t’hai’la.” He stooped and gave her what started to be a gentle kiss. He started probing deeper, but T’Pol stopped him, although she was reciprocating.

“If the captain is looking for you and can’t find you on E-deck,” she got out in gasps, “he may scan for your bio-signs.”

“Yeah. I hate this life somedays.”

“As do I.”

He gave her one last kiss. T’Pol reciprocated yet again. Trip started walking to the door, paused, and circled around. “One of these days, we’re gonna have a normal life. Where it is, I don’t know. But I promise you, one of these days, no more sneaking around. We can be more open.”

“One of these days.”

Trip took one more look at T’Pol, and then left.

* * *
CHAPTER NINE

T’Pol was actually amazed at how much this universe’s Trip Tucker was like her own.

He was first officer of this Enterprise. In spite of his loyalty to the captain, he was still compassionate to some, especially to his T’Pol. He was repeatedly risking his life just to see her, to be with her for a few seconds.

After he had left her quarters, she stood quaking for a brief two seconds. The kiss he had given her was powerful and frightening, even though it only lasted a brief moment. He had whispered a word that surprised her.

T’hai’la.

Beloved.

Right then and there, it all came together. Everything that was connected to this alternate timeline, and especially between her and Trip.

It had been four and a half hours. More than enough time to gather information and knowing Trip as she did, he would be getting worried. She reached for her hidden communicator. “T’Pol to Tucker.”

He responded. “Go ahead.”

She paused and reconsidered. “Prepare for beam-out.” There was one last thing she had to do.

“Understood.”

T’Pol laid her communicator on the desk and walked to the closet. This T’Pol would awake in half an hour’s time. She dragged her out, laid her on the bed, and folded her arms over. She was unsure how she went to sleep, but she based it on herself. Making sure she was still unconscious, she went back and got the communicator.

“One to beam out.”

She dematerialized from the alternate quarters for the last time, and then after a few extra seconds she reappeared. She saw Trip – her Trip – looking up at her, slightly frowning while she didn’t move off the platform.

“T’Pol? What’s wrong?” he said, walking around the controls to her.

A million things were literally going through T’Pol’s mind, but she chose the relevant topic and spoke. “I’ve discovered numerous differences to add to the report. We should meet with the rest of the senior staff if the captain is still interested in conducting recon missions.”

Trip slightly smiled as T’Pol matched her footing. “You wanna change first?” he asked as they both glanced at her outfit. It had helped her to blend in on her recon mission; now, the only thing it helped was Trip’s imagination.

She nodded. “Can you walk in front of me?”

Nodding understandingly, Trip glanced down the corridors to check for passing crewmen. He quickly thought of the quickest route to her quarters.

“Come on.”

She followed him willingly as he shielded her from other crewmen. T’Pol dashed into the turbolift and Trip made sure no one else was coming before he stepped in. He pressed the button for B-deck. “So what was different?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“Mostly, the vocal algorithms and inflections in the crew’s manner of speaking.”

“What about me?” Trip asked, barely loud enough to be heard. “Us.”

“T’Pol is treated like an invalid by everyone – except you,” she said.

Trip’s attention was solely on her, until the turbolift halted and the doors opened to B-deck. “Hang on a sec,” he said, looking to make sure there wasn’t anyone lurking. When he was certain, he motioned for T’Pol to follow. She walked closely behind him to her quarters. She slipped in and Trip waited by the door. “I’ll stand guard. And I’ll make sure the senior staff is waiting on you.”

Some days, T’Pol reflected, Trip lived up to another definition of his nickname. Some days, like today, Trip’s actions only reminded her of why she had fallen in love with him.

She lifted her face. “Trip.”

He turned around towards her.

In a graceful move, she left another kiss on his cheek. “Thank you,” she said quietly. She retreated into her quarters, leaving Trip slightly staring at her door and smiling like an idiot.

* * *

Trip couldn’t think for a moment, and when he regained his senses he pushed the button on the comm panel. He cleared his voice. “Tucker to the Bridge.”

Archer answered. “Go ahead.”

“T’Pol just got back. Says she’s got some information the senior staff is gonna want to hear.”

“We’re all here, with the exception of you two.”

“We’ll be there in a few minutes. Tucker out.”

Just as he finished, T’Pol stepped back out of her quarters. Her blue outfit was a major difference to the short skirt and skin-displaying blouse that she had to wear while on the other Enterprise. And Trip found the normal outfits she wore much more attractive, even though some would have given up many things to see her in the outfit that she had just changed out of.

And Trip would punch everyone on board before that happened.

“The captain and the others are on the Bridge,” he said.

T’Pol nodded, and then began walking to the turbolift. Trip settled in pace next to her, but before he could quietly ask if she had saved the outfit or thrown it in the recycler, she abruptly asked, “Do you wish to continue our conversation?”

Oh, well. Her pajamas would settle. “That depends. Do we have enough time?”

“I don’t believe so.”

Was she playing games or what?

“However, if you would stop by my quarters later this evening, I will explain everything in detail for you.”

Oh yeah, she was. Trip hoped he would be able to discuss a few things on his mind, too.

They reached the turbolift. They paused, waiting as he called the turbolift, and then she began, “I believe it would be prudent not to try and initiate first contact with this alternate timeline.”

Oh, well. Back to business. “Why’s that?” he asked, folding his arms as they stepped inside.

“Captain Archer, in spite of his cynical mentality, expressed an interest about pursuing further opportunities for contact with subspace anomalies, such as the one we found. And I thought you might like to know that their scans never picked up Enterprise’s presence.”

“Nice to know I’m not getting rusty in my work,” Trip said.

T’Pol cast him a glance, and then assumed an expression as stoic as Trip had ever seen. True to his word, the senior staff was gathered in the situation room. Archer looked up and spoke first. “Commander, welcome back.”

She nodded and then began her briefing. Trip watched her as she went over the subtle differences in the crew: first was Captain Archer’s cynical mindset due to his hostility to Vulcans. “Although the crew respects him, I believe it is only due to fear for their lives, as Lieutenant Reed as at the beckon call of the captain.”

Travis’ torture made Trip shiver at the thought of emerging with frostbite. And apparently, it made Travis shiver as well. “I think maybe the original idea of never being born is more comforting to him.”

Hoshi’s sleazy appearance made the communications officer shiver, literally. T’Pol glanced at Hoshi, and said, “Apparently, you were in a relationship with the captain.” In the second that followed, Trip swore he heard everyone breathing.

Hoshi glanced at Archer. “No offense, sir, but only in an alternate timeline.”

Next on the briefing was Malcolm’s goatee, which caused a shared smile to pass between Trip and Archer with the knowledge that if Reed ever did that on this ship, they would shave in a heartbeat, without the drunkenness.

Then when she got to herself, T’Pol braced herself. “T’Pol was held hostage by Captain Archer in response to a show of hostility on the Vulcans’ part four years ago. In the time that followed since then, Captain Archer allowed her to put her expertise to work and she filled in occasionally as the science officer. After their incident with the Suliban, Captain Archer allowed her to work fulltime on the Bridge. Otherwise, T’Pol is treated like an invalid.” She lowered her voice during the last few statements, and then raised it again for Phlox. “And my original assumption about Dr. Phlox was correct. He never came on board.”

Archer considered pushing about Trip, but refrained. “Anything else about Commander Tucker?”

“Commander Tucker might have been a better candidate for the reconnaissance than me. There were virtually no differences.”

Archer let it go. “Thank you, T’Pol. Dismissed.”

The senior staff scattered back to their stations with the exception of the three ranking officers. T’Pol looked between them, then said, “If you don’t mind, Captain, I believe a shower is in order.”

“No offense, Commander, but permission granted. Personally, you reek.”

T’Pol ignored the comment, walked to the turbolift, and left.

Trip glanced after her, and Archer at Trip. “So, Trip. Do you feel better now?”

The engineer smiled. “She’s back on my ship, safe and sound. This is the best I’ve felt in a long time.”
* * *
CHAPTER TEN

After her shower, T’Pol felt revived. But she wasn’t sure if it was the grime washing away or the knowledge that soon, Trip would be ringing her door bell.

She glanced around her room and suddenly felt grateful that the captain had been as generous as he had, forgiving her when she made mistakes and fouled. She was grateful now that the captain had pleaded all her cases, when she faced leaving Enterprise.

And all along, Trip had helped. Surely the captain would understand.

She had just finished buttoning her pajama top and wrapping her robe around her when someone rang the bell.

“Come in.”

Trip entered, wearing a pair of rumpled pants and a blue shirt. T’Pol would have never admitted it, but she liked it the best. It made his brilliant blue eyes stand out.

“So,” he said. “Finish that conversation, hmm?”

T’Pol nodded. She couldn’t think of a better way to spend her evening than with him.

And at present, she began to speak.

* * *

On the alternate Enterprise, T’Pol had woken and surmised that he had hit her head on something. Lately she had been feeling clumsy, woozy, and now realized after reflecting on those terms that she had been married to Trip for too long.

She changed into night clothes but couldn’t go to sleep. Something inside hurt – too much.

T’Pol selected another robe that wouldn’t be considered as sensual. She went outside to the corridors and made her way to the turbolift, hoping that no one was inside.

Unfortunately, she noted in the first second as the door slid aside, someone was inside. Fortunately, it was Trip.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked as she stepped inside.

For the sake of listening ears, she said, “I’m not feeling well. I was just on my way to Sickbay.”

“I’m on my way to Engineering. I’ll walk you there.”

“Your assistance is noted, Commander, but not needed.”

Suddenly, she slipped to the floor of the turbolift.

Trip sunk down next to her. “Yeah, right. I’m helping you to Sickbay, whether you like it or not.”

T’Pol nodded as he helped her back up.

The doors opened and they fortunately passed no one on their way to Sickbay. Inside, the female doctor, Dr. Coleman, looked at her. Besides Trip, she was the most sincere person on the ship.

“Commander Tucker. T’Pol. What seems to be the problem?”

“I believe that I’ve lost equilibrium.”

“And she collapsed in the turbolift.”

Coleman went over to get her medical scanner. Trip stood a reasonable distance away in case someone else came in. As she maneuvered it over T’Pol’s torso and abdomen, her brown eyes widened. “This can’t be.”

Trip spoke first. “What?”

She shut her scanner, moved to put it away, and slowly approached. “I’m not sure how, but T’Pol, you’re pregnant.”

And then Trip exploded. “WHAT! How?”

T’Pol looked at him, not nearly as calm as she tried to be. “Calm down, Commander. The last time I visited Earth, a colleague of mine, a geneticist, was working on a way to combine Vulcan and human DNA. I volunteered to test the application, since I said I was not involved with anyone.”

“But you can’t hide this, T’Pol,” Trip said groaning, moving closer. “The captain’s gonna know that . . .”

Coleman raised her hand. “In case you two forgot, I’m the only one that knows.”

“Sorry. But now the captain’s gonna know that you’re pregnant, and that one of the guys onboard is the father. And considering the stuff that Malcolm is working on, it won’t take much for one of us to spill the beans.”

“And if the captain gets wind of this,” the doctor said.

“We’re all dead,” T’Pol interjected, “and so is our baby.”



Part III (Chapters 11-15)

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Eight hardy souls have made comments

Oooh oooh. I'm so glad this has been updated, I was just bemoaning the fact no one had updated the mirror universe stories lately. I can hardly wait for the next part.

Oh what a tangled web we weave... I can't believe our Archer will not pursue his curiosity about the other Enterprise despite T'Pol having given her warning. And now the other T'Pol and Trip appear to be in trouble, can't wait to see what happens next. Ali D :~)

I love this story !
Please write more soon, I can't wait for the next part !!!!!

I know their just MU T/T but I hope the real T/T find a way to help their counter parts. I dont want T/T or T'baby in any universe to get killed off.:( Maybe MU Trip can take over the ship give it to Malcom and leave with his T'pol? Great story cant wait for the next update!

And the plot thickens! Can't wait to read more... if MU T/T die I am SO gonna cry....

Intriguing... LOVE it!! MORE!!! :-)

Believe me, Star Trek is never what is seems! In my stories, people never die, supposedly. But forgive me, I've had a death in the family and I've been a little slow about updating and writing. But there is definitely more to come!
Thank you for reading and I gladly accept constructive criticism (this is an example of spell check being my best friend!).
Thank you all, Energy

This is AMAZING! I can't wait for more!