Logic, Inescapable Part III: Surprises

Logic, Inescapable: Part III: Surprises

By HopefulRomantic

Rating: PG
Genre: Drama, Romance, Episode Addition
Archive: Trip/T’Polers, Triaxian Silk. Anywhere else, please ask me first.
Disclaimer: Star Trek: Enterprise is the property of Paramount Pictures, Inc. All original material herein is the property of its author.
Spoilers: Through “Home.”
Website: http://www.geocities.com/hopeful_romantic@prodigy.net/
E-mail: Hopeful_Romantic@prodigy.net
Summary T’Les and Trip have an opportunity to speak alone.
Date: 1-16-07

A/N: Anybody remember this old chestnut? If so, here’s the next installment. My thanks to the Vulcan Language Dictionary (http://www.starbase-10.de/vld/) and, as always, kudos to my betas boushh, TJ, and Stephanie.

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Part III: Surprises

T’Pol retired to her bedroom after the morning meal to meditate. T’Les was not at all surprised, considering the tense silence into which the meal had lapsed following T’Pol’s announcement that she had been offered a Starfleet commission. When Commander Tucker quietly excused himself and escorted T’Pol out, T’Les fully expected not to see either of them until the midday meal. Tucker’s objective in coming here might have been to endear himself to T’Les, but his highest priority, clearly, was T’Pol’s well-being. T’Les continued to be impressed by his regard for her daughter, though the complications created by his presence still disconcerted her.

With unexpected time at her disposal, T’Les took the opportunity to visit the garden. She found a number of vegetables ripe and ready to be picked— too many, in fact, to bring in at one time. As she brought her first basketful inside, she found that Tucker had already returned. He was in the kitchen, examining the stasis unit with a set of tools from a small kit that lay open on the counter nearby.

T’Les could not help but be intrigued by a man who would bring a tool kit on a visit sixteen light-years from home.

She set her basket down. “My husband amassed an extensive selection of tools, Commander,” she remarked. “However, you appear to require nothing further.”

Tucker turned to her, a tool in one hand, the stasis unit’s power pack in the other. “I have everything I need right here, ma’am,” he said with a smile. “Thanks.”

T’Les transferred the vegetables from her basket to the sink. “I am somewhat puzzled as to why you would bring tools on a... vacation.”

“Force of habit,” he replied with a shrug, as he selected a smaller, more precise instrument from his kit. “I’ve been packing a tool kit in my duffel since my dad showed me what they were for. He taught me to make myself useful when I could.”

“A logical attitude,” she commented. And an unusually unselfish view, for most humans.

Tucker laughed. “Dad is not what I would call a logical man. But he is a sensible one. He believes in doing good to others.” His face and voice reflected fond admiration. “He’s the finest man I know.”

“Is he employed in public service?” T’Les inquired, as she began washing the plomik-lar.

Tucker leaned his elbows on the counter as he began recalibrating the power pack. “In a way, I guess. He’s a carpenter.” Abruptly, he beamed with pride. “If it can be constructed of wood, my dad can build it.” Then, with equal suddenness, his voice softened, as his eyes took on a distant look. “His last big project was helping to construct temporary housing for refugees in south Florida last year. After the attack...” He paused, his eyes downcast, fixed on the power pack in his hands. “A lot was lost after the attack,” he finished quietly.

T’Les had seen the same wistfulness in the commander’s expression earlier, when he had spoken of his dead sister to T’Pol. “Surak teaches us that, by benefiting others, we benefit ourselves. It is a lesson your father knows as well.”

Tucker’s gaze rose to meet hers. He swallowed, then wordlessly nodded. T’Les studied him for a moment longer, struck by the depth of compassion she saw in his eyes. She could not deny that this uncommon empathy of his had somehow enabled him to understand T’Pol in a way that T’Les had never been able to. She had seen the way Tucker’s presence calmed and strengthened her daughter, and how T’Pol could do the same for him. If circumstances were different...

But they were not. T’Les went outside to gather more vegetables from the garden, as Tucker focused again on his work.

By the time T’Les returned with a second basketful of vegetables, Tucker’s expression had recovered its characteristically pleasant cast. As she prepared the mashya-lar for cleaning, T’Les saw the commander stealing glances at her as he continued to make tiny corrections to the power pack.

“I just want to thank you for letting me stay here,” he said at last.

T’Les was inwardly amused to see that the commander had returned to the business of attempting to ingratiate himself with her. Not only was this continued campaign irrelevant, it was no longer necessary, though Tucker evidently did not realize that. “Expressing gratitude is an Earth custom,” she pointed out.

Tucker hesitated, apparently unsure whether to pull back or forge ahead. Finally, he offered hopefully, “T’Pol says thank you all the time.”

“I’ve noticed,” T’Les replied dryly, as she pulled on her scrubbing mitts.

Tucker deflated with a look of chagrin. Only a moment later, though, he was regrouping for another attempt. “T’Pol’s lucky. It’s nice to have a place to go home to.”

T’Les could see why humans referred to such conversation as “small talk.” She had had her fill of it during the morning meal. It was time to speak openly regarding the true reason for this visit. Without looking up, she said, “I know that you’re romantically involved with my daughter.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tucker go very still, with an almost comically stunned expression on his face. She scrubbed patiently at the mashya-lar skins as he straightened, opening his mouth to reply, then stopped again, apparently at a loss for words.

She faced him fully. “There’s no logic in denying it,” she said calmly.

Tucker seemed as if he wished to respond to her, but still he hesitated, his body tense, his manner uncertain. Perhaps he was being protective of T’Pol’s privacy, and his honor prevented him from speaking plainly. He could not know, of course, what T’Les had observed as the commander and T’Pol were preparing the morning meal.

It occurred to T’Les that a question containing within it an inherent assumption might give Tucker leave to speak. “How long have you been attracted to her?” she asked.

All of his taut nervousness appeared to leave him in a rush of relief. “I knew we had some kinda chemistry the first time we got into an argument,” he replied. With a surprised half-smile, he added, “I never had fun arguin’ with anyone before.”

T’Les noticed a touch of shyness coloring Tucker’s demeanor as he spoke. His accent had subtly increased as well— typically an indicator of added stress or stronger emotion, or both. Evidently he regarded the imparting of these early impressions of T’Pol as a revelation of sorts. It was possible that he had never told anyone else... perhaps not even T’Pol.

T’Les was still attempting to determine whether Tucker derived enjoyment from the act of disagreeing, or simply from the interaction, however argumentative, with T’Pol herself, when she saw Tucker eyeing her with bemusement. “I got the impression T’Pol wasn’t gonna say anything to you,” he ventured cautiously. His accent was even stronger.

“She didn’t,” T’Les replied placidly. “I’m her mother.”

Tucker’s eyes widened in embarrassment— he was undoubtedly the most emotive human T’Les had ever encountered— before he bowed his head in mute acknowledgment of having been outmaneuvered. When he finally straightened, he gave her a sheepish smile, then gathered up his tools and the power pack and crossed to the stasis unit.

T’Les set the mashya-lar in the colander to dry— then stopped in startlement at the sound of a deep, quiet hum. She turned to see the stasis unit’s power grid flickering to full brightness, as Tucker adjusted the controls. “You’ve repaired it?” she asked in surprise.

The commander shrugged modestly. “The field generator just needed a little adjustment. It’s as good as new.”

How many more ways would this human find to defy her expectations? T’Les was beginning to wonder whether she should anticipate surprise from Tucker, so as not to be surprised. She found her circular logic rather agreeable.

Her eyes wandered across the kitchen to the food synthesizer, which had been malfunctioning with increasingly annoying regularity. Deliberately denying herself the opportunity to think better of it, she turned to Tucker. “If you have the time,” she began deferentially, “perhaps you could repair my food synthesizer...?”

As Tucker nodded good-naturedly, there was a knock at the door. T’Les had another visitor.

Part IV

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