A Morning in the Gym

A Morning in the Gym

by Kevin

Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The characters mentioned within this text are the sole property of Paramount Studios, UPN, and Viacom. I intend no infringement.
Genre: Friendship
Summary: Scene additions to A Night in Sickbay. T’Pol finds herself a better exercise partner. Trip finds Vulcan tea is more stimulating than coffee.

3:06 AM

T’Pol strode purposefully down the hall. Try as she might to avoid it, Captain Archer’s nearly complete abdication of his responsibility to the ship and crew was wearing on her. She cut short her meditation time because he was focused on the health of his canine. She negotiated a suitable way out of their current predicament that would allow them to acquire the plasma injector the ship needed. She even brought a meal to Captain Archer and Doctor Phlox while they focused their attention on its needed.

In return, the Captain fought against her as she struggled to convince him to do the right thing for the ship. He was so focused on the problems of his pet, he even started using the wrong words in sentences and made little sense.

Finally she decided it should be safe to return to the gym. If she were not able to restore peace through meditation, she might at least be able to distract herself with physical exertion. Earlier she was not able to complete her exercise routine but was now certain she could do so uninterrupted. The Captain and Phlox were busy in sickbay and the crew who were not on duty would all be asleep in their quarters.

Unfortunately she was wrong. Commander Tucker walked at a brisk pace on the center treadmill. That meant she would be forced to take one next to him. She did not look forward to another immature attempt to compete with her.

T’Pol was unsure what to do until Commander Tucker smiled at her and said, “Good morning, T’Pol.”

She decided the only proper thing was to proceed with her workout as normal. If Commander Tucker attempted to match her speed of one kilometer every 3.5 minutes, she would allow him to do so. At this moment, she did not feeling like making any more compromises to satisfy the Human males aboard this ship.

T’Pol decided to take her normal treadmill at the far right. Commander Tucker must have been on the treadmill for some time as his scent was stronger than normal and there was a light sheen of sweat on his arms.

She had to focus her attention elsewhere so as to not allow it to distract her. She climbed aboard the treadmill and set it to a brisk walk similar to Commander Tucker’s in order to warm her muscles.

A short while later Commander Tucker turned to smile at her and sped his up to a light jog. It appeared as if he would pursue the same arrogant approach as Captain Archer.

When her muscles started to warm up, she increased her speed to match his.

“It’s pretty early. You normally come here now?” Commander Tucker asked her.

“No,” she replied. “I normally perform my exercise routine at midnight.” She thought about his question for a second. She knew Humans needed more sleep and thought this was an odd time for the commander to be exercising at this time. “I assume that means you normally do not exercise at this time. What brings you here?”

Commander Tucker just snorted and then let out what sounded like a growl. “Can’t sleep… Captain woke me up.”

“For what reason?” Although T’Pol was fairly certain she knew the reason, she decided to press the issue. Captain Archer mentioned once he thought they could run on four plasma injectors.

She watched as he just shook his head. “He keeps trying to find a way to run on four injectors,” he replied. “I tried to convince him to just apologize, even if he doesn’t mean it, but I don’t think I got through.”

She agreed. Captain Archer had made some irrational decisions in the time she knew him, but placing his canine ahead of the well being of the ship–the same ship the entire crew relied on–went beyond irrational.

A short while later T’Pol bumped up her speed. She noticed Commander Tucker did not match it. In fact, he actually slowed down and returned to a brisk walk. Even better, they continued on in silence, which allowed her to consider other ways to convince the Captain to fulfill his primary duty.

Eventually she settled down to her normal pace and was able to focus on the issue. She was only momentarily distracted when Commander Tucker would change his speed between a brisk walk and a light jog and vice-versa. He never actually ran. It was clear he had no intention of competing with her by trying to match, or even best, her speed.

“You’re really moving there. How fast you going?” T’Pol was shaken out of her consideration by his question. Commander Tucker had returned to his brisk walk.

“One kilometer every four minutes,” she replied. Since he did not attempt to match her speed, she maintained a less intense speed than she knew she could tolerate. This was fast enough to push her body, but slow enough to allow her to focus on something other than running.

“Wow… That’s pretty impressive,” he replied with a grin.

Some time later she was still somewhat surprised Commander Tucker had not tried to challenge her. He had maintained his own pace and did not try to match hers. It was fascinating. She assumed he would make the same foolish attempt the Captain had. But he had not. In fact, he had only spoken briefly to her and in both cases was simply curious.

Before she could consider the situation any further, she heard him to come to a stop and then step off the treadmill. She saw him wipe himself with his towel before walking away. “Good day, Commander,” she said to him.

He turned slightly. “I’m not leaving. I’m going to lift some weights… I’m doing squats today.”

She watched as Commander Tucker took station less than three meters in front of her. He bent over, grasped the hand weights and then straightened up. He bent at the knees until the weights nearly reached the floor before straightening up again.

T’Pol was distracted later when he began lifting enough weight to cause him to strain. She focused on the muscles in his legs and posterior as he progressed through the exercise. It was an entirely inappropriate response but she was… drawn… by the thickness of the muscles in his legs. She could almost make out the individual muscle fibers in his calves.

Later she was able to tear herself away from an unhealthy fascination with the curvature of his buttocks but when she looked up, she caught his gaze in the mirror. He was looking right at her with a grin on his face. She knew he caught her staring but did not say anything. She felt the heat rise up her neck and face. She was certain her neck and ears were flush as the blood rushed to them.

For the rest of his set, she stared off in the corner.

She was successful at ignoring his presence for sometime until he approached the front of her treadmill. His scent became far stronger and even with the nasal inhibitor she took hours ago, impossible to ignore. The best she could do was to suppress the urge to inhale deeply. That response would be as inappropriate as her earlier behavior.

“You want to get some breakfast?” he asked as she focused on his face and not the way his sweat soaked shirt clung to his chest.

“Like this?” she replied. She could not believe he would go to the mess hall all sweaty. She was certain even a Human female could detect his scent at present.

He gave her a little chuckle. “No, not now… I mean in a bit, after we’ve had a chance to get cleaned up.”

T’Pol titled her head.

“How does 0400 sound?”

“That would be agreeable,” she replied.

“Good, I’ll stop by your quarters.”

T’Pol watched as he smiled, wrapped the towel around his shoulders and left her.

She decided she needed to find out when Commander Tucker normally exercised and would join him going forward. Even if the Captain were present, Commander Tucker should be able to diffuse the situation. She believed Captain Archer would prefer to speak with his friend than challenge her.

“Commander, what time do you normally perform your exercise routine?” she asked as blankly as possible.

She saw him hesitate briefly before turning to her. “0500 hours. Why?” She almost detected anticipation in his voice.

“Just curious,” she replied.

He gave her a confused look but did not say anything before turning and leaving the gym.

If she adjusted her schedule only slightly, spending time in the gym starting at 0500 hours would not pose a problem at all.

4:11 AM

Trip whistled as he ran his spoon through the grits to keep them from sticking to the side of the pan. He was glad chef let him use the kitchen from time to time to make something. Cooking the occasional meal was a nice distraction from his normal routine. As long as he cleaned up after himself, she seemed okay with it. When he was satisfied he had the grits thoroughly mixed, he turned his attention back to the cutting board.

T’Pol sat at a stool off to his left. He wondered what was going through her head. She still baffled him most of the time.

He thought about her only for a moment before he started slicing the pears. The grits would be ready shortly and he needed to finish slicing and pitting the pears. “I can’t believe you’ve never had pears before.”

“Normally chef covers them in a brown, overly sweet substance,” she replied.

He swore she momentarily made a little face after saying that. “You better not let her hear you say that,” he said with a grin. “Chef’s pretty proud of her cooked pairs… But you’re right, that dish is pretty sweat… I like it even though pretty much all you can really taste is the molasses.”

“Are you going to cover them in a sauce?”

Trip shook his head. “Nope, just plain.” He stuck a small fork in one of the slices and held it in his hand. “Here, try one…”

He watched as she hesitated before taking fork from his hand. He smiled as he watched her take a tentative bite of the fruit. He almost burst out laughing when the thought struck him that she looked cute doing so. She’d be pretty annoyed if he called her cute. ‘Vulcans are not cute,’ would be her terse reply and then she’d arch her eyebrow at him.

He could almost picture her saying that as he watched her eat the pear slice.

He returned to the pears and noticed she’d shifted position. While slicing he was also staring right at her breasts as she practically rested them on the high counter. He shook his head to make sure he concentrated on what he was doing. He didn’t need her distracting him and accidentally cutting himself. He didn’t want to explain to Phlox he cut off his finger while gawking at T’Pol’s rack. That sounded like something a 14 year old would do.

That made him wonder if she had any idea how distracting she was in that skintight cat suit. Everything she wore outside of her quarters was skintight. In fact, just that morning he had been sneaking peaks while she gently bounced up and down on the treadmill when he caught her staring at his ass. It was all he could do to keep from laughing. If he didn’t know better, when she caught his stare, her neck got a bit darker. He knew if he said anything she’d insist that Vulcans couldn’t be embarrassed and she’d come up with some lame reason why she was checking him out.

Or even worse, she’d twist the whole conversation and accuse him of checking her out, which he was of course. So he kept his mouth shut.

After slicing the pears, he turned around to check the grits. They appeared done and he turned off the heat. He turned to T’Pol. “Why don’t you get us something to drink and I’ll plate this up.”

“Of course,” she replied and stood up to return to the mess hall.

Trip mixed a small amount of butter into the grits then divided them up evenly between the two plates. They weren’t like his mom made for him, but he didn’t figure T’Pol would like cheese grits. He wasn’t even sure if she could eat cheese. He hadn’t seen her eat it yet.

He arranged the pear slices in a semi-circle on each plate. He decided to add a little flair to the breakfast. He searched through the area where chef kept her garnishes until he found exactly what he was looking for.

He put a small amount of edible flowers in the area between the pears and the grits. Not many, but just enough to add color to the meal.

He surveyed the plates and picked them up and entered the mess hall after satisfying himself with their breakfast. He found T’Pol sitting in a small corner table with two mugs. He walked over and placed a plate in front of her.

T’Pol leaned over and took a whiff of the plate. “Interesting choice,” she said.

“What do you mean?” he replied.

“The addition of the flowers,” she looked up at him. “I was unaware that Humans consumed them as part of their meals.” Before he could say anything, she used her fork to lift one into her mouth.

Trip couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as she ate the flower. He saw her tilt her head and stare at him in return.

“Is something amusing?” she asked.

Trip struggled to keep back a smile. “No… I mean, the flowers were meant as a garnish… You’re not supposed to eat them.”

“What is a garnish?” she asked.

“It’s just something to decorate the plate. They’re just meant to add more color… Both the pears and the grits are pretty bland looking.”

“I was unaware of that.”

He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. They are edible… So I guess you can eat them if you like.”

Apparently that was all the encouragement T’Pol needed as she ate a second flower. Trip barely shook his head before returning to his own breakfast. Before taking a slice of pear, Trip raised his mug to his mouth. He was a bit startled to find it wasn’t his normal coffee.

“I did not get you coffee.” He must have made a face when he looked at the mug since T’Pol made a comment.

“What is it?” He didn’t recognize the taste. It was like tea, but not very distinct.

“It is a Vulcan tea,” she replied.

He wondered why she chose that for him.

“I decided that since you chose to introduce me to pears this morning, I would introduce you to Vulcan green tea… Is the taste offensive?”

Trip quickly shook his head so she wouldn’t be hurt before realizing she was Vulcan and wouldn’t be offended. “No, it’s fine… I just was caught off guard since it wasn’t coffee… I didn’t get much sleep and I’m going to need my caffeine.”

“Vulcan green tea contains a number of compounds that act as a stimulant in Vulcans… I selected it expecting that it might provide the same function for you.”

Her consideration caught him off guard. He didn’t know what to say. “Thanks,” was all he could say.

When Trip looked up later on, he wasn’t sure if T’Pol really liked the pears or was really hungry. She finished her breakfast well before he did.

She simply sat silently drinking her tea. He assumed she was waiting for him to finish.

“So what’d you think?” he asked when he was complete.

He saw her look at her plate and then look back at him. “The texture of the fruit was fascinating… In their natural state, the pears are not too sweet.”

Trip twisted his mouth to the side. He was happy she liked them. He’d noticed that she didn’t like sweet things. She also didn’t like either the pecan or apple pies they tried together about a year ago. “You don’t like sweet foods do you?”

He watched as she considered his question for a moment. “It appears as if sweet is the one flavor where I have more sensitivity than you do… In fact, Humans seem able to tolerate more simple sugars in their diet than I can.”

“Humph,” Trip snorted. “Do you know if all Vulcans are that way? Some people don’t like really sweet stuff either… I have a cousin who hates cakes and pies.” He still couldn’t believe there were people who didn’t like pie.

“I am uncertain,” she replied. “I never encountered any Vulcan dishes with added sugar… The only sugar in our diet comes naturally from the fruits we consume.”

Trip stretched out a bit to consider that. He couldn’t imagine a diet with no sugar added.

“Would it be inappropriate if I ate your garnish?” she asked him.

He looked down at his own empty plate, save for the three flowers. He smirked as he realized she must really like them.

“Sure, go ahead,” he said as he placed his plate on top of hers. “Enjoy.”

T’Pol barely set her own tea down before eating the first flower. When she finished off the other two, she picked up her tea and took another sip.

After a while she set hers back down and focused her attention on him. It was pretty strange, but lately when she’d do that, he almost seemed drawn to her eyes. He realized it only slowly, but she had the most beautiful eyes he could imagine. They were simply mesmerizing while they argued and Trip was ashamed to admit sometimes he picked a fight with her simply to stare into those wonderful eyes. But he also liked them when she was simply looking at him with what appeared to be curiosity as she did now.

“Commander, I fail to understand much of the Captain’s behavior since we have returned to the ship,” T’Pol eventually asked him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied. Other than Jon’s repeated pestering him about running on four injectors, he hadn’t seen the Captain. “I’ve been busy in engineering keeping a close eye on our injectors.”

She paused briefly and if Trip didn’t know better, she almost appeared frustrated. He wondered if she was trying to describe Captain Archer’s behavior or trying to find the most effective way to call him irrational, emotional and immature. Soval had a whole variety of ways to sling insults but maybe T’Pol’s vocabulary was more limited. The thought almost made Trip chuckle while he waited on her.

“The Captain seems more focused on the well being of his canine than on the ship… I have been… unsuccessful… in conveying the logic behind a proper apology to the Kreetassans so as to acquire a replacement plasma injector.”

Trip slumped. That was a good question. And one he didn’t know the answer to either. He assumed part of it had to be Jon being worried sick about Porthos, but part of it also was his intense dislike for the Kreetassans. Trip knew the prissy, thin-skinned aliens just drove Jon nuts. They annoyed him more than any of the other aliens they’d encountered so far.

“I wish I could help you Sub-Commander,” he replied and looked away from her. “The Captain is really attached to Porthos… I’m not sure I can really explain it. Porthos is like… his family. There isn’t anyone else left.”

Trip saw a slight crease form along her forehead and it made him grin. That probably completely baffled her.

“Didn’t you ever have a pet?” he asked.

“When I was young… However Vulcans do not have pets aboard ships.”

Trip chuckled. Neither did Humans, except on Enterprise. He still wondered how Jon pulled off getting Porthos aboard. “The Captain’s pretty attached to him… Eventually he’ll make the right decision. Just give him some time.”

“I am not certain how much time we have… The Kreetassans appear somewhat… perplexed… as to why he has not already given the proper apology.”

Trip scowled as he thought about that. “Even if you could get him to apologize for whatever happened, I doubt you could get him to say he’s sorry twice… What’s happened this time? Was his uniform the wrong shade of blue or something?” He gave a little grin as he wondered what trivial garbage happened with them this time.

“Porthos urinated on some trees,” she replied.

Trip had to fight hard against spitting out his tea. “That’s it? They got upset for something a dog does naturally?” He couldn’t have imagined all this was over something so stupid.

“The trees appear to be a sacred memorial,” she replied. “Imagine if they brought along one of their pets and it urinated on the Cochrane Memorial. How would you feel?”

Trip ran his tongue along his cheek. “I guess I see your point.” Jon insisting he take Porthos down with him to the surface caused this mess. They could have avoided everything, got their injector and been on their way if he’d just left Porthos with Phlox. Porthos seemed to like staying with Phlox. He wished Jon hadn’t taken Porthos for a little walk until after they got the injectors.

He sat looking down at his tea. It really wasn’t that bad. In fact, it was just fine. He also didn’t feel tired in the least so maybe the stimulants did work on people. He still preferred his coffee though.

“Commander, I should return to the bridge,” T’Pol said.

He nodded. “Yeah, I ought to get back to engineering… Do you want me to talk to the Captain?”

T’Pol shook her head. “No… I think I will attempt to enlist Ensign Sato. She may be able to convince him.”

Trip smiled. If anyone could, Hoshi could. He knew Jon had a weak spot for her. If she applied the right amount of pressure, Jon would fold like a house of cards. “Good idea,” he replied as he stood up.

The End

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Nine of you have made comments

“Would it be inappropriate if I ate your garnish?”

I love it. :) What a great little fic. I love missing scenes and this was a fun one. :)

Trip doing squats. What a nice image to wake up to in the morning. : ) Thanks, Kevin.

Very simple, yet excellent. Nice to see them just talking, interacting. I loved it. : )

Hee hee. I liked it! Well done, thank you for the treat! :)

I loved it, especially that garnish line. Just great.

This was simply great! Lots of good interaction without anything complicated. Thanks for sharing this!

this is a delightful little interlude with our favorite couple.

great interaction even when all they were doing was checking each other out.

avoiding Jon is the only reason you want to work out with Trip??? hmmm T'Pol you are being false to yourself :-D

I too would love to watch him work out. Seeing CT on Stargate Atlantis and NCIS (two of my favorite shows) has been such a treat just like this story. I can see how buff Trip is recalling CT in t-shirts on Atlantis as the de-wraithified Michael.

Trip busted T'Pol staring at his toosh? Sweet!

Well, Kevin, you *tried* to make the terrible episode this fic is set during better and, while I really enjoyed the interactions here, it can't save ANiS from being the steaming pile of feces that it is. Nice bit of continuity from your other fics with the grits and pears, and I love the idea of Trip checking out T'Pol and T'Pol checking out Trip in the gym. Heh. Good one.