Of All...Times- Ch. 7

Of all the Times, Places, and People!

By Eratta

PG-13, General
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Paramount

A/N: Okay, here we go! Second to last chapter of this 'fic, or so I think at this point. I've also absolutely decided on a sequel. I just need some time to really formulate it; right now it's a much undeveloped idea swirling around in my head. Also, I want to say thanks to all of you who reviewed! You are the best people in the world. Now, with that said, I proudly present to you chapter 7 of "Of All the Times, Places, and People!"

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Chapter 7

Malcolm Reed glanced quickly at his wristwatch. It was nearly 0530. He suppressed a yawn as the turbolift came to a stop and the door slid open. Deftly, he maneuvered the hallways as he headed for the transporter. Though he didn't like being in it, operating the machine was relatively simple, resulting in little room for human errors. He came to stand in front of the controls and ran a quick diagnostic, making sure it was in working order. Time was short, but if anything Malcolm was a stickler for protocol. Once it was complete, he called the bridge. With any luck, they would soon have their missing officers back.

"Reed to Archer."

"Go ahead." The captain's strained voice replied.

"The transporter's ready, sir."

"Then get to it, Lieutenant Reed. Remember, get the SubCommander first."

"Aye, sir"

He checked the controls and coordinates one last time, and initiated the sequence.

A shimmering curtain formed over the transporter deck, and as Malcolm checked watched the readings on the consol, he suddenly tensed. There seemed to be an awful lot of planetary debris surrounding T'Pol. In fact, lots of it actually seemed to be INSIDE her. He shook his head. Now was not the time for complications. He increased the power, only to be informed of another problem by an alarm. Glancing quickly at the readings, he saw that Commander Tucker's bio-sign appeared to be very close to T'Pol's. So close, it was like they were touching, and in more places than one.

Malcolm set his jaw. Though his mind was painting vivid, unbidden images in his mind, it didn't matter what they were doing on that planet. The point was, with them so close to each other, the risks of error suddenly increased threefold. It was going to be tricky getting them up completely separate from each other. God knew a tiny slip and they could end up melded together, or something equal horrendous. Very carefully, he adjusted the data stream, tracing the outline where he believed Trip to end and T'Pol to start. Then, he once again increased power. The familiar chiming sound filled the alcove, and a solid body materialized on the floor. Without wasting any time by looking at her, Reed re-aimed the transporter on the human engineer, and brought him up beside the SubCommander.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Trip didn't know how long he had been holding T'Pol, but it didn't really matter. All other thoughts were miles away from his brain, and all he could focus on was the limp but warm body in his arms. But something happened then. T'Pol suddenly felt . . . less than solid. He looked down at her in his arms, eyes wide in horror and shock as she began to glow, lost weight, became transparent, and then finally vanished all together. He couldn't comprehend what was going on, but before he knew it, he was back on Enterprise. It took him a moment to adjust to the darkness, but then he made out the blessedly well-known transporter pad and familiar rounded corridors. He looked up to see Malcolm at the controls, and a medical team headed by Phlox hurrying towards them. Overjoyed as he was at being home, they weren't out of the woods yet.

With a jolt, he whipped his head around, searching for T'Pol. She lay beside him at an awkward angle, as lifeless as she had been on the swampy planet. Dr. Phlox was already running a scanner over her, and giving orders to the crewmen to lift her onto a stretcher. But Trip wouldn't have it.

"I got 'er, Doc."

Phlox ran a quick eye over Tucker, checking to see if he was all in one piece.

"I don't think so, Commander. Now come with us, we need to get you both--- ."

He stopped short as Trip brushed a helping hand away and hauled the petite Vulcan into his arms again. He stood brusquely, ignoring the protests and attempts to take her away. Without a word, he hurried her toward Sickbay, towing the medical team and a slightly peeved Denobulan doctor behind him.

Alone in the room again, Malcolm allowed himself a smile of relief before contacting the captain.

"Reed to the bridge."

"Report, Lieutenant." Archer answered immediately.

"They're on the way to Sickbay, sir."

The relief on the bridge was nearly tangible. Archer shared a smile with Hoshi, who relayed it to Ensign O'Connor, who yawned. Archer stood, stretching his back after hours of tense sitting in his chair.

"Good work, Malcolm. Come back up and take the con. I'll be in Sickbay."

He turned towards the science consol, where Thomas was fighting to keep his eyes open and a semblance of alertness. Archer grinned at him and offered softly,

"If it weren't for you, Thomas, we may never have reached them in time."

Thomas shrugged nonchalantly, though he was secretly beaming with pride and relief.

"I took a guess sir, and I got lucky."

"I think you more than 'got lucky'. Come on, I'm sure the commanders will want to know who's responsible for their rescue."

Archer expected O'Connor to immediately agree, but he was surprised when the man blanched white and shivered slightly. What was he afraid of?

"If you don't mind sir, I'd like to go back to my quarters, once I finish up here."

Archer gave him a quizzical look, trying to decipher what was bothering the brilliant and usually self-assured ensign. But he was needed in Sickbay, so he let it go. If it was anything serious, no doubt he or T'Pol would find out in time. So, he nodded his head and reminded the Irishman about taking the whole day off. As Thomas nodded back and sank into the chair, Archer stepped into the turbolift, genuinely believing that everything would be fine.

But as soon as he got into Sickbay, he knew the whole ordeal was far from over. T'Pol lay motionless on a bio-bed as Phlox ran scans and called out orders to the nurse on duty. Trip was hovering over the bio-bed, refusing to lie down.

"What's going on?" Arched demanded as he came to join them. Phlox looked less than pleased with the arrival of another visitor in his domain.

"As I suspected, she went into a coma. It's a shallow one at this point, but we won't be able to resuscitate her completely unless we get the excess copper out of her lungs." He said shortly.

"So do it!" Trip exclaimed. Archer only now realized that he was holding onto the Vulcan's hand like it was the specs for a warp 7 engine.

"I will, but interruptions make it difficult!" Phlox retorted pointedly. Archer took his point and gently took Trip's arm. To Phlox he asked,

"Is Trip clear to go?"

"Yes, for now." The doctor replied shortly, moving away into a back room briefly.

For a moment it was just Trip, Jon, and T'Pol. Jon was tugging lightly at Trip's arm, trying to get him to come away. He understood why Trip resisted. He was a loyal man, even to people he didn't like too much. But upon closer inspection, Archer noticed that Trip hardly seemed aware of his presence. He just stared at T'Pol, clutching her hand as though his very life depended on it. Scrutinizing his friend's face, Archer saw something he couldn't quite identify. It wasn't like any expression Jon had ever seen him wear. Trip's eyes flamed, despite his obvious fatigue. And his mouth, though drawn firmly into a thin compressed line, had a certain softness about it. Almost a vulnerability, Archer interpreted.

Realization dawned on Archer like a ton of bricks. Something had definitely happened down on that planet. He didn't know how, or when, or why, but the facts remained. Somehow, T'Pol had struck a nerve in Trip, a nerve that had previously been untouched. He was intensely curious and a tiny bit envious, but now wasn't the time to speculate.

"Come on, Trip." He coaxed, careful not to startle his friend. But Trip didn't start at all. Instead, he settled himself on the bed beside T'Pol's and looked up at his captain. He could see the concern in Jon's eyes, but he knew what he had to do.

"No, Cap'n. I'm not leavin' 'till she wakes up an' tells me she's alright."

Archer was a caught a bit off guard. Whether he knew it or not, the Commander's countenance had taken on a subtle hint of steel and determination. His friend couldn't fathom why, but he knew better than to force the issue. Whatever reasons Trip had were valid, of that he was sure. And no doubt in time he would find out what those reasons were.

In response, Archer nodded his head and turned to Phlox, who was returning from the back room wheeling a very large plastic half-cylinder. He was preoccupied and seemed to have forgotten the two men were there until he came to stand in front of them.

"I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave now, sirs."

"I'll go, doctor, but Trip is staying." The captain said. As the Denobulan was about to protest, he held up a hand and gave him a commanding glare.

"He's staying, Doctor. Maybe he can give you a hand."

Phlox sighed impatiently. They didn't have time for this. With a huff, he nodded his consent. As Archer left the facility, he heard Phlox say to Trip,

"Help me get her into this."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Trip barely registered the fact that Jon was leaving. He was filling up the half-cylinder with warm water, as Phlox had directed. Turned away from the doctor and the unconscious woman, Trip couldn't see anything. But he wasn't quite sure he wanted to. From his position a few feet away, he could hear everything. The clinking of metal instruments being moved around, the sound of PADD keys being punched. And then there were a few other distinct sounds that Trip couldn't place. Curiosity and worry overpowered him and he was forced to turn back. Almost instantly, he retracted his gaze with a wince.

Phlox had stuck clear plastic tubes into T'Pol's ribs. Each tube was hooked up at the other end to a machine Trip had never seen before. Running an assessing eye over it as the tank filled, he guessed it was a pump of some kind. 'A pump?' he wondered. 'Why on earth would they need a pump?' His attention was drawn back to the cylinder, which was now full. Carefully and slowly, he wheeled back to the bio-bed where the Vulcan lay. The doctor was reading the monitor above her head, eye shuttling back and forth at an impressive speed. Seeing the Commander out of the corner of his eye, he nodded and grabbed a mask.

"What's the tank an' mask for?" Trip asked as the doctor secured it over T'Pol's nose and mouth.

"Before the fluid is pumped out of her lungs, she needs to be submerged. It will make the extraction faster and easier, not to mention less traumatic for her body." Phlox explained absently, running quick last-minute checks for any overlooked complications. Trip swallowed hard and looked down at T'Pol's placid face.

"You mean, you're gonna drain her lungs with those tubes?"

"Yes."

"Won't that hurt 'er?" He asked worriedly.

"She's in no condition to feel anything, and it's the only way. Now, please lift her into the tank."

Trip clamped his mouth shut to keep the flow of questions from escaping. They had to do this now, so he got to work. Picking T'Pol up and gently sliding her into the warm water, he did as he was told. Reluctantly, he let go of her hand, watching as it gracefully floated down to join the rest of her body. Absorbed in studying her, Trip jumped as the unmistakable sound of pumping reached his ears. Queasily, he could see the murky, viscous, coppery-green fluid traveling lazily up the tubes from her lungs. It just kept coming and coming, a never-ending stream of sticky-looking goo.

Trip's head swam and before he knew it, he was on his knees, level with T'Pol. Phlox had grabbed his arm, but Trip stubbornly resisted. He was going to stay, no matter what. He owed her at least that much. Shaking his head, he muttered weakly,

"I'm okay, Doc. Just lemme sit for a bit."

Phlox sighed. "In any other circumstance, Commander, I wouldn't allow it. But seeing as this means so much to you, I'll make a concession." He let go and went back to monitor T'Pol's readings. It was extraordinary, really. Her lungs were filled to nearly 66%, and yet she still had only gone into a shallow coma. Inwardly, he knew it was very fortunate. She should have been dead hours ago, yet it seemed likely she would survive. The uninformed friend in him was content with that, but the physician wondered what had been the fateful event or need that had kept her alive. Surely it had taken a conscious effort not to succumb entirely to the slow suffocation. He shook his head at the wonder of it. If anyone could sustain herself by sheer willpower, it was T'Pol.

Satisfied with the rate of drainage, Phlox took advantage of the time by checking her other vital stats. She still had a fever, but it wasn't life- threatening. And thankfully, neither she nor Commander Tucker had picked up any pathogens. For the first time in days, Phlox smiled. With her marvelous physiology, T'Pol was almost certain to recover with minimal lasting effects. At worst, she would have a lingering cough that would be a mild nuisance for a few days as her body expelled the last remnants of fluid. Glancing back at the cylinder, he caught sight of Commander Tucker. His hands were clasped and he was unusually silent. Phlox vaguely noted that the Commander seemed strangely protective of the SubCommander. Mentally, he marked off a list. Insisting on carrying her to Sickbay; refusal to comply with medical orders to be able to remain close to her, and staying to observe her treatment. He had even held her hand for a good period of time! Unsure what to make of it, Phlox filed the information away for later study and resumed his inspection of T'Pol's bio-signs.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

That day, for the first time since he was a boy, Trip prayed. He sat quietly by T'Pol's side as the fluid was pumped out of her lungs and was overcome by the need to do something, anything. On impulse, he had begun reciting an old, well-known prayer from childhood Sunday school. After that, he had recited all the prayers he knew, and when his list was exhausted, he simply made up his own. Trip had never been a very religious man. He had his morals and code of conduct like any other man, but religion and God were two things that more often than not put him ill at ease. Perhaps it was because God couldn't be explained by natural laws. As an engineer, Trip relied on and loved those laws. So consequentially, he rarely took religion into consideration.

But now, it was strangely comforting. Awkward at first, but eventually he just let it all go. He prayed for T'Pol and for himself, and for the situation he both feared and longed for. When his eyes finally opened some time later, he welcomed the cleansing feeling of peace that filled the inner depths of his being. Vaguely, he wondered if T'Pol felt this way when she meditated.

The thought of T'Pol instantly brought him back to his surroundings. Wincing as his back cramped, he looked up into the tube. He was surprised to see it emptied, both of water and Vulcan. He stood carefully, shaking his legs to get some feeling back into them. Glancing around, he saw Dr. Phlox's silhouette behind one of the white gauzy curtains. He loped over, parting the fabric to get a glimpse of the Vulcan woman. She lay peacefully on the bio-bed, arms folded on her abdomen. Her hair was damp and her face still glowed with fever, but it didn't really matter.

Trip felt a huge swell of joy, pride and relief when he saw the steady, strong rhythm of her breathing. Stripped of her uniform and clad in her typical grey underpinnings; Trip was able to fully appreciate her newly- restored health. Her chest rose and fell in a relaxed, effortless motion. The sound was quiet and natural, not bearing any trace of the raspy wheezes and thundering coughs she'd suffered through.

"How---?" Trip left the question unfinished, not quite sure what he wanted to know first. And besides, he was far too preoccupied to really listen to what Phlox was saying. Then he became aware of some background noise. 'What was that? Oh right, an answer.' He told himself sheepishly.

"-Been out of the cylinder for nearly an hour. I felt it best not to disturb you. You looked like you were concentrating quite hard."

"Huh? Oh, yeah . . . yeah I was. Will she wake up soon?"

"Oh I don't know," The Denobulan sighed. Really, he couldn't understand how the Commander was still awake. It was nearly 1130, and clearly the man hadn't slept at all the previous night. Clearly he was just as stubborn as T'Pol.

"But she'll be alright? She'll recover?" Trip persisted anxiously.

"Yes yes, I've no doubt she'll make a full recovery. She's still in a shallow coma, but she'll come out of it on her own once her body has regained most of its normalcy." Looking at Tucker, who had taken a seat on the edge of the bed and once again had entwined his hands in one of T'Pol's, Phlox gently added,

"It may take a few hours, Commander. Why don't you get some rest, hm?"

"Only if I can stay here, Doc. I told ya I'm not leavin' 'till she wakes up and tells me she's alright, and that's what I'm gonna do."

Phlox shook his head at the obstinacy of the young engineer. He left the curtained space, leaving the two alone. Deciding it was time to debrief the captain, he wondered why of all the people on the ship the two most stubborn were both in his sickbay.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Trip woke some time later, staring up at a pristine white ceiling. Confused, he sat up hastily and nearly fell off the narrow bio-bed. Cursing himself, he wondered how he'd gotten onto the bed in the first place. The last thing he could remember was sitting by . . .

"Be careful, Commander. It would be most ironic if you were to injure yourself in Sickbay." A dry, vaguely humored voice said.

Trip nearly lost his balance again as he wrenched his body over to the other side, staring at the site before him as though he'd never seen anything so beautiful in his life. There, a yard away, was T'Pol. She was sitting up in the bio-bed, leaning against a full pillow as she read from a large, well-worn volume. Her skin was dry and luminous, and her eyes had cleared and returned to their normal deeply striking shade of walnut brown. An amused expression was traced onto her immaculate features, and Trip found himself unable to speak due to the tightening of his throat.

Upon seeing his expression, which was a mix of elation, surprise, and awe, T'Pol felt something surge through her. The sensation, she decided, wasn't unpleasant. She was aware that it was he who had invoked such a response, but she was quite. .. happy . . .that he didn't seem hurt or angry after her rebukes on the planet. Or worse yet, indifferent. Without realizing it, her expression softened. Just over a day ago, she had believed that restraining these new emotions though meditation was the only option she had. But upon waking to find her hand clasped within both of his, she knew that she couldn't really do that. Performing the Kohlinar was an option, but wasn't available to her readily. And something told her that it may be quite difficult to expel those feelings.

Besides, she didn't want to leave Enterprise, or her chief engineer. Illogical and groundless as it was, she somehow had the feeling that Tucker truly cared for her. Her only evidence of this was his totally uncharacteristic behavior on the surface prior to her journey into darkness, but she couldn't shake the hope that gripped her heart. And then to have found herself in Sickbay with him resting at the side of her bed was like being reborn.

No, she decided, she had handled herself badly. Commander Tucker had been honest with her and had proven his trustworthiness long ago. He deserved better than a sudden 'cold shoulder', as the humans put it. Though she wouldn't make any final decisions or declarations until she had ascertained his true regard, she would endeavor to rekindle the closer bond that had begun to form under their difficult circumstances. After all, she had nothing to lose by getting closer to him. She would do it gradually and carefully, but she knew that it was possible. And that it was what she truly wanted.

"Commander?" she asked softly. Her head was slightly inclined and one winged brow was raised in mild concern. Trip blinked and cleared his throat, embarrassed at being caught off-guard and staring. But remembering her words and actions on in the swamp, he was careful not to show too much emotion in front of her, lest she be made uncomfortable again.

He smiled hesitantly. "Hey," he offered as a greeting. "How're you feeling?"

"Well, thank you."

"No more coughin' fits? Pain?" This time he couldn't quite hide the concern, either in his voice or his face. Privately, T'Pol gave thanks to the powers that be.

"I was in pain for several hours after I had woken. The doctor decided administering medication at the time was--."

"Whoa, wait a minute there," Trip interrupted, waving a large, calloused hand in front of her. "When you awoke? Ya mean you've been awake for a while?"

"Yes, for nearly ten hours."

For the first time since coming to live among humans, T'Pol finally understood what they meant by a 'priceless' expression. She turned back to her book briefly to hide her amusement at his sake.

"Then I've been asleep." He concluded.

"Yes."

"For ten hours."

"Possibly longer. I was told that the captain came to see us, and both he and Dr. Phlox found you unconscious beside my bio-bed. Though I can't understand why you weren't taken to your quarters."

Trip's cheeks bloomed as his eyes roamed, searching for a place other than her to rest them. The Vulcan waited patiently, knowing full well that he would soon give in and tell her. Eventually, he muttered something incomprehensible.

"I beg your pardon?" She replied.

"I told 'em I wasn't leavin' until you'd woken up and told me you were okay."

She regarded him curiously, and Trip couldn't bear to meet that engulfing gaze. He was afraid of rejection again. Things had been going well up until now, but he wasn't sure what he'd do if the look in her eyes was flat, unfeeling, or contemptuous. He was startled when she spoke, though it was so soft it could easily have been a whisper.

"I appreciate your troubles. I believe you may leave now."

He looked at her again, this time harder. He'd heard a hint of the same T'Pol he'd begun to know on the surface; he wanted to make sure of it before jumping to any conclusions. Her eyes were soft, free of the terrible emptiness they'd previously held. And her face was relaxed to a degree that Trip knew she wasn't hiding behind Vulcan protocols. It took quite a bit of effort to keep himself from leaping with jubilation. The engineer restrained himself and to her, in almost Vulcan fashion, offered a tiny genuine grin.

"How 'bout you? Are you clear too?"

"Yes. I stayed because I thought you might like to see me when you awoke." At another of Trip's priceless expressions, she shyly continued. "I owe you an apology. Yesterday, I was . . . confused," she stopped abruptly at Trip took her hand again. His grip was loose, allowing her to pull away if she wished. But when she didn't he tightened it.

"Forget about it." He told her.

"I feel it should be said," T'Pol stated, preparing to continue.

"Tomorrow. It's late and we've both been through a lot. And I know yer just dyin' to get to your quarters for some privacy."

She looked ready to initiate one of their famous verbal fencing matches, which gave the man hope. But Trip was already standing, which indicated she should stand too. Unfortunately, a culmination of her recent near-death experience and several hours in bed caused her to stagger into Trip's willing arms. Careful to hide the ridiculous grin on his face, Trip set her back on her feet, but kept a steadying arm around her slender waist.

T'Pol, not about to be seen in such a state while walking back to her quarters, tried to shrug him off. But again, she tilted to the side and had to be steadied.

"C'mon now, SubCommander. I won't hurt you."

"I will not let myself be seen leaning on another person. In a few moments I'll be perfectly capable of going by myself." She retorted quickly.

Trip shook his head as a distinctly evil mischief twinkled in his eyes. T'Pol sensed something was about to happen that she wouldn't like.

"Now, T'Pol," Trip began seriously. "We can do this one of two ways. Either you'll let me help you to your quarters like this, or . . ."

Though she knew what was coming, T'Pol decided to humor him. Just this once, she promised herself.

"Or?" She inquired innocently.

"Or, I can knock you out an' carry you all the way."

"You would never harm me." She told him arrogantly.

Trip's grin remained as he agreed, "You're right, I wouldn't."

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A handful of people have made comments

I loved this to bits! It was moving how Trip would not leave T'Pol until he knew she was going to be alright and T'Pol's attempt to walk herself back to her quarters afterwards was just like her. I particularly loved the introspective insight into T'Pol's thinking and the way their feelings towards each other have changed and deepened. It was also nice that Jon was not being a jerk but actually keyed into the fact that Trip had to be with T'Pol so made sure he was allowed to be. Great stuff! Ali D :~)

Awwwwwwww. *ahem* Awwwwwwwwwwwwwww!
This was *so* *sweet*. The interaction between them is just heartmelting and they are very much in character, at least in my opinion. And it's just absulutely adorable. TPTB don't know what they are missing. *sigh*
Very sweet! Can't wait for the next part.

i like i like i like more please please!

This is a lovely story, so well written. Everyone is very nicely depicted and in character (well, the way WE the fans want Trip and T'Pol to be, anyway).

The emotions between them in sickbay was lovely, and I especially liked T'Pol's teasing of Trip over the fact that she'd watched him sleep for 10 hours, waiting for him to waken. Yummy!

Let's have the next chapter, soon please.

This is just simply great storytelling. I just really love the interactions here, and a hint of T'Pol's humor. Just keep it coming, please!