First Sight

Trip and T’Pol’s Alphabet Challenge: B

First Sight

By HopefulRomantic

Rating: G
Disclaimer: Star Trek: Enterprise is the property of Paramount Pictures, Inc. All original material herein is the property of its author.
Genre: ABC Challenge, Episode Addition
Archive: Trip/T’Polers, thank you most kindly
Spoilers: Broken Bow
Summary: Trip’s perspective of his first meeting with Sub-Commander T’Pol.

A/N: Okay, so I’m a little late for the ABC Challenge. I was working on that *other* little series that I have going. At any rate, here’s a “B” entry for y’all.

Thanks to beta goodness by boushh, Jenna, TJ, and Stephanie.

Date: 11-29-06

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

April 10, 2151
Captain’s Ready Room, NX-01 Enterprise
Spacedock, Orbiting Earth

The door chime sounded. Trip, stretched out in the comfy chair opposite Archer’s desk, watched the captain take one last sip of coffee. “Here we go,” Archer said. He set his mug down and faced the door. “Come in.”

Trip wondered what sort of Vulcan the High Command would pick for the unenviable job of being cooped up on a ship full of humans for the eight-day jaunt to the Klingon homeworld and back. A female version of Soval? Some snooty old battle-ax?

The door slid open, admitting the Vulcan spy— er, “chaperone”. She wasn’t old. In fact, she was the youngest Vulcan Trip had ever seen. Not that he could actually determine her age from her appearance; with a two-hundred-year lifespan, a Vulcan who looked to be in her late twenties, as this one did, could easily be twice that age. Interestingly, she wasn’t swathed in the layers of patrician-looking robes that Vulcans all seemed so fond of parading around in. Her uniform was a jumpsuit of muted grays... a skintight, formfitting jumpsuit that hugged the most spectacular set of curves Trip had seen on a woman since, well, ever. And topping off that stunning figure was a face so exquisite that he almost forgot about the rest of her. Her dark cropped hair framed her face in wisps, setting off high, delicate cheekbones and deep brown eyes.

Damn, she’s beautiful.

Where the hell did that come from? It was a fool thing to be thinking about a Vulcan. Trip mentally chastised himself for getting so distracted by the view. They’re machines, walking calculators. Beauty wouldn’t even enter the equation for them.

The Vulcan gave Trip a passing glance before turning to the captain. Those incredible brown eyes of hers were remote and brittle, with a disdainful “I’d rather be anywhere else” look about them that spoiled the whole picture for him.

Archer stood to meet the woman, who handed him a PADD. “This confirms that I was transferred to your command at 0800 hours,” she said crisply. “Reporting for duty.”

As the captain read over the orders, the woman’s nose wrinkled briefly. Trip thought idly that, under different circumstances, he might consider the tiny gesture cute. She glanced toward the corner of the room, where Porthos was perched on his cushion, watching her with bright-eyed curiosity. Trip saw the Vulcan’s eyes narrow with what looked like irritation before she turned to face Archer again.

Trip settled back more comfortably in his seat. Oh, now this is going to be interesting.

Archer looked up from the PADD. He must have seen something lingering in her expression. “Is there a problem?” he asked.

At once, she composed her face into a mask of Vulcan calm. “No, sir.”

Archer studied her for a moment... then turned, his gaze following the same path that hers had, until he saw Porthos. “Oh... I forgot,” the captain said. Trip picked up the barest hint of oh-so-subtle needling in his voice. “Vulcan females have a heightened sense of smell.”

Archer’s eyes flicked to Trip, who kept his face carefully neutral. A Vulcan female in nasal distress, sealed inside the same ship as a smelly dog. It was downright rich.

Archer resumed his seat. “I hope Porthos isn’t too offensive to you.”

“I’ve been trained to tolerate offensive situations,” the Vulcan replied dryly.

Hoo, she has bite, Trip thought with amusement. He couldn’t resist. “I took a shower this morning,” he offered pleasantly. “How about you, Cap’n?”

Archer smiled in polite apology to the woman— for his own social carelessness or his impudent Chief Engineer, Trip couldn’t tell which. “I’m sorry,” the captain said. “This is Commander Charles Tucker III.” He turned to Trip. “Sub-Commander T’Pol.”

Trip stood as Sub-Commander T’Pol of the Vulcan High Command— quite a lot of name for such a tiny thing— turned to him. He offered his hand. “Trip. I’m called Trip.”

T’Pol eyed him with cool condescension, not even looking at his hand, much less taking it. “I’ll try to remember that.” Then she smoothly turned her back on him, focusing her attention on Archer once more.

Trip glanced down at his forlorn, disrespected hand. This was going to be a long eight days.

He spotted Archer struggling to hide a smile. Glad you’re gettin’ your jollies, Cap’n, watching Miss High-and-Mighty lord it over ol’ Trip.

Quickly, Archer got back to business, putting on his no-nonsense command face. “While you may not share our enthusiasm about this mission,” he said to T’Pol, “I expect you to follow our rules. What’s said in this room and out on that bridge is privileged information. I don’t want every word I say being picked apart the next day by the Vulcan High Command.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Trip spotted Porthos getting to his feet and approaching the newcomer. Apparently the beagle had waited long enough for an introduction, and had decided to take matters into his own paws.

“My reason for being here is not espionage,” T’Pol stated evenly. “My superiors simply asked me to assist you.”

The “chaperone” was evidently so focused on denying she was a spy that she didn’t see— or more significantly, smell— the oncoming olfactory nightmare. Trip wasn’t about to alert her, either. He simply observed, a slow smile spreading on his face in sweet anticipation.

“Your superiors don’t think we can flush a toilet without one of you to ‘assist’ us,” Archer retorted sarcastically to T’Pol.

“I didn’t request this assignment, Captain,” she responded flatly. “And you can be certain that when this mission is over, I’ll be as pleased to leave this ship as you’ll be to have me go—”

She stopped with a startled gasp at the feel of doggy-paws scrabbling up her leg. Porthos had reached as far as her shapely hip. He stood on his hind legs, gazing happily up at her, his tail wagging in enthusiastic greeting.

For a moment, Trip thought T’Pol was actually going to blow a gasket. But then both her face and body became, if anything, even more tightly controlled. She turned away from the dog as if he no longer existed. “If there’s nothing else?” she asked Archer quietly.

Her voice was lovely when it was pitched softly, Trip noted... almost musical. What a mixture of the ridiculous and the sublime.

Archer followed T’Pol’s lead, content to treat Porthos as a non-issue. “That’ll be all,” he replied succinctly.

T’Pol nodded. Then, without so much as a backward glance at either the aromatically disadvantaged dog or the impertinent commander, she turned on her heel and left the ready room.

Archer finally smiled as he looked to Trip for a reaction. Trip raised an eyebrow and shrugged. If you’ve seen one Vulcan bein’ a stuck-up, supercilious botheration, you’ve seen ‘em all.

At least this one was easier on the eyes than Ambassador Cranky.

-end-

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A whole mess of folks have made comments

A very nice look into Trip's thoughts during that scene.

Very cute.

Very nice. Is there also one from T'Pol's POV?

How about pooe portho's view mean he was just being friendly.

How about pooe portho's view mean he was just being friendly.

Nice revisit of this scene. Your words slip in and merge well with the dialog from the script. You have enhanced the scene for us. Good job.

And yes, how about poor Porthos's view? Ok, now Porthos speaks: "I knew she was not of my pack or even of my people. So I impolitely delayed my welcome until I could overcome my averson to the copper smell. Closing my inner nostrals, I gave her as formal welcome as I could manage. But I am ashamed to say that I could not bring myself to sniff her crotch as is a proper welcome to a new female joining the pack. I hope she is not to be the alpha female, for it might be difficult for my human to condescend to mate with her because of that horrible smell.

Nice story Hopeful Romantic from Broken Bow nice look into Trip's thoughts after meeting T'Pl for the first time.

Very well done, HR. I now will enjoy that scene even more. And now, because you knew it would happen if you wrote this, I am going to ask: may we please, please have T'Pol's POV on this one? Pleeeeeease?

Heh. Nicely done. And I reeeeeeeally can't wait for the next part in your series! :)

as Tennisgirl yes please how about T'Pol's POV meeting Trip and what she thought of pretty Please.

Let me add my voice to the Chorus..."We want T'Pol's POV!" You write so well you've no one to blame but yourself really :)

Consider my arm succesfully twisted. :)

But if y'all don't mind, I'll be posting some more First Light before I do a follow-up to this one.

I unfortunately read almost as slowly as I write, so I'm a little late commenting.

You chose a great scene to expand on. It seems as if Trip, Archer and even Porthos can't help but be intrigued by T'Pol... just as she is intrigued by them-- even if she won't admit it.

Nice addition. I wouldn't mind reading T'Pol's POV either. : )

A very good take on the scene. I quite enjoyed the different thoughts that Trip had about this new comer to the ship. Little did he know that 4 yrs later he'd be mated to her. What a turn around that was. Very nicely done. T.