If you are seeing this paragraph, the site is not displaying correctly. You can see the content, but your current browser does not support CSS which is necessary to view our site properly. For the best visual experience, you will need to upgrade your browser to Netscape 6.0 or higher, MSIE 5.5 or higher, or Opera 3.6 or higher. If, however, you don't wish to upgrade your browser, scroll down and read the content - everything is still visible, it just doesn't look as pretty.

In Sickness and in Health

Author - Myst123 | Genre - Friendship | Genre - Hurt/Comfort | I | Main Story | Rating - PG
Fan Fiction Main Page | Stories sorted by title, author, genre, and rating

In Sickness and in Health

by myst123

Rating: PG
Genre: Friendship/Hurt-comfort

Disclaimer: It all belongs to Paramount. No infringement intended.

Summary: T’Pol learns about humans.

~~~~

T’Pol took one last look at the monitor before her, checking for any irregularities, but all data was within acceptable parameters for this section of space. She picked up her scanner and attached it to the holster at her hip. Captain Archer had granted her request to take some readings at the next planet they encountered, to test the modifications Commander Tucker had made to her scanner, and she was going to spend the evening examining the upgrades. Although the Commander had assured her the enhancements would “make her day,” she preferred to run actual data rather than simulations to ensure accurate, dependable readings, and wanted to be prepared when the promised planet materialized. Mr. Tucker understood and smiled when he heard her plans. She knew somehow she had entertained the Commander with her reply, but she didn’t understand why.

Leaving the bridge, T’Pol made her way to the messhall for a quiet moment and a cup of tea. She found such an activity restored her equilibrium much as a short meditation session would do. Normally the messhall was empty at this time of day, but Crewmen Rostov and Kelly from engineering were at the beverage dispenser when she entered the room. They nodded politely and greeted her.

“We understand you’re going to get to test the scanner enhancements,” Rostov said, seeing the instrument strapped to her side. “Commander Tucker worked very hard to make sure everything met with your approval.”

“I’ll bet he’s biting his nails until he knows for sure alls A-OK,” Kelly laughed. “You know how he is with some of his projects – they become his children and he gets antsy waiting for others to understand how brilliant and wonderful his babies are.”

“The evidence provided by the simulation indicates the work done by the Commander is sufficient. I will tell him not to concern himself.”

“No, no!” exclaimed Kelly, embarrassed. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. But...well…you know how Commander Tucker can get when he’s taken so much care with a project. It’s sweet, but I don’t think he would appreciate my saying so. I spoke without thinking,” Kelly continued, hoping to persuade T’Pol not to repeat her remarks. “Besides, he has other things on his mind right now, and I’m probably wrong and he isn’t worried about the scanner.”

“What does he have ‘on his mind?’” T’Pol queried, as always a bit perplexed by the visual imagery human expressions caused her to have. On his mind. An illogical but surprisingly informative phrase.

Rostov and Kelly exchanged a startled look, surprised T’Pol didn’t know. “He’s a little under the weather, so he left work a few hours ago,” Rostov told her. “He probably forgot to notify the bridge, so I’ll do it when we get back to engineering.”

Seeing T’Pol raise a questioning brow, Kelly elaborated. “He’s not feeling well. And you know that if the Commander takes time off, he really isn’t feeling well.”

“Indeed,” T’Pol agreed. But, in fact, T’Pol had never seen Commander Tucker ill. True, he had endured physical injuries inflicted upon him by the harsh realities of space travel, and by violent encounters with aliens. He had been pregnant. His body had been taken over by alien wisps. His senses had been distorted by hallucinogenic pollen. She has even seen him on the verge of death. But she could not recall ever seeing him “under the weather.”

Kelly and Rostov took their drinks, said goodbye to T’Pol, and left. Deciding to visit Commander Tucker before taking her tea break, T’Pol followed them out the door and made her way to Mr. Tucker’s quarters.

~~~~~~

“Who is it?” a feeble voice from within Mr. Tucker’s quarters asked.

“Commander T’Pol.”

Silence.

Just as she was prepared to sound the door chime a second time, the panel slid open and revealed a disheveled Mr. Tucker, wearing sweat pants and a T-shirt.

“What do you want?” Trip croaked.

“You are ill,” T’Pol observed. She pulled her scanner from the holster at her hip and began gathering data.

“Would you stop that! I don’t need you coming here and examining me like a guinea pig. Please, just go away.”

Mr. Tucker’s less than well-mannered response to her presence and the presence of her scanner caused T’Pol to draw her brows together slightly.

“Commander, what is your ailment?” T’Pol inquired, returning her scanner to its holster.

“I’m dying,” Trip told her, collapsing back onto his bed and closing his eyes.

“Have you consulted Dr. Phlox to see if he concurs with your self-diagnosis?”

She saw Mr. Tucker’s jaw clench, and then suddenly he was on his feet. He hit the door panel button to open it and, with his arm extended and his finger pointed out into the hall, he told T’Pol, “Just leave and let me die in peace.”

T’Pol left.

~~~~~~

Back in the messhall, T’Pol became uneasy. Could it be possible Commander Tucker was indeed on the verge of death? She had never seen him behave so…irrationally and rudely while apparently lucid. Well, she had seen him act so before, but she had never heard him say he was dying in combination with the irrational, rude, lucid behavior. Sipping tea, she pondered her next action. Should she contact Dr. Phlox?

Hoshi entered the messhall, ordered herself a cup of tea, and joined T’Pol.

“Ensign Sato, how do humans know when they are going to die?”

“Pardon me?” Hoshi asked, bewildered by the question which came out of the blue.

“I just saw Commander Tucker and he told me he is dying.”

Hoshi laughed. “A message came to the bridge after you left. Trip’s got the flu. He’ll be OK.”

“Why did he tell me he is dying? And he was discourteous when he spoke to me. Are those symptoms of the flu? Is he hallucinating?”

“No, he’s just being a big baby. Like most healthy human men, he feels a little sick and his world falls apart. Men like that whine and moan and complain.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well, how do Vulcan men act when they get slightly ill?”

“Vulcans do not get ill. We eat a healthy diet and live moderate, logical lives.”

“Are you telling me Vulcans don’t get something similar to the flu? You don’t have any viruses which cause you to have a temperature, sneeze, cough, and generally feel lousy?”

“We do not discuss such occurrences. Instead, we meditate and overcome our physical weaknesses.”

“I see,” said Hoshi. “Well, human men moan and wallow in self-pity.”

“Indeed,” T’Pol responded, again raising a brow.

~~~~~~

T’Pol made her way back to Commander Tucker’s quarters. Clearly he needed some guidance on how to conquer his infirmity. Ringing the door chime, T’Pol reflected upon the sound advice she would give.

No answer.

She rang again.

No answer.

She keyed in the security bypass and the door panel slid open. Trip was still lying on his back. One eye opened as he heard her enter.

“Damn, T’Pol, would you go away? All this noise is giving me a headache.”

“It has come to my attention that you are not in fact dying but that you are, instead, pitying yourself because of a minor ailment.”

“What?” Trip asked, slightly incredulous.

“You are allowing your human weakness to direct your behavior. To get better, you must ignore the symptoms and focus on the benefits of good health.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“There is not need to mope or whine or feel sorry for yourself. Instead, I will share Vulcan techniques which will permit you to overcome this flu.”

Trip had closed his eyes halfway through T’Pol’s plan of attack.

“T’Pol, if you don’t leave right now I will throw you out. I don’t mean to be rude, but you are making me feel worse. You are definitely no ministering angel. Trust me to end up with someone who hasn’t a shred of empathy for me in my hour of need.”

“Empathy will not remedy your situation,” T’Pol almost scolded.

“Get OUT!” Trip yelled.

T’Pol left.

~~~~~~

Back in the messhall, Hoshi was flipping through a magazine, sipping her tea.

“Mr. Tucker was not receptive to Vulcan strategies for dealing with physical ailments,” T’Pol informed Hoshi, sitting herself across the table from the communications officer.

“What did you say to him?”

“I informed him that self pity and whining are useless, and then I endeavored to instruct him in valuable Vulcan methods for coping, but he became agitated and I felt it necessary to leave.”

“Oh, T’Pol, you didn’t!” Hoshi gasped.

T’Pol began to feel a slight headache coming on.

“You described human male behavior to me. Surely a man like Commander Tucker would wish to overcome these flaws once a technique for doing so was made available?”

“You didn’t say that to him, did you?”

“I said something similar. I do not understand the problem.”

“This is my fault!” Hoshi realized. “I was so amused that Trip would act like a stereotypical man that I didn’t explain the situation fully. Yes, he is whiny, and no, he won’t die, but he feels awful. Under these circumstances a human partner would recognize the other person is being a big baby, but would also make allowances. A human partner would sympathize, sooth, and pamper. I’ll bet Trip hasn’t had anything to eat or drink. He’s probably all sweaty, and the sheets on his bed all rumpled and damp as a result. Even as he sweats, he is probably cold and miserable. He isn’t comfortable.”

“What can I…what would a human partner do?”

“I don’t know. Take him some hot soup and some juice or water. Give him a bath. Change the sheets. Find out what his symptoms are and ask Phlox for medication. Massage his hands and head. Make him as comfortable as possible, so that he can fall asleep. Sleep is what will help him to mend. He needs to be cared for. That is what a human partner might do.”

~~~~~~

T’Pol made her way back to Mr. Tucker’s quarters. She quietly let herself into his room. The Commander lay on his back, his face shiny with sweat, his brow furrowed slightly with pain. She put her hand gently on his shoulder and his eyes opened. He groaned.

“I apologize, Mr. Tucker, for I did not respond appropriately before. I want to help. What are your symptoms?”

Eyes closed, Trip replied, “I ache. Every bone, every muscle, every hair follicle hurts. I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus.”

T’Pol made her way to the wall comm near the door and contacted Phlox, who assured her “this virus is going around.” He promised to bring something to ease Mr. Tucker’s symptoms.

T’Pol then proceeded to undress her patient.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“You need to wash the sweat off. A bath would be preferable, to allow you to soak, but we don’t have such facilities. Therefore you will take a warm shower.”

She led him to the shower, provided him with a stool to sit on, and made the shower as hot as was comfortable. Standing just outside the spray she washed his hair and soaped him down. Once she rinsed him off, she wrapped him in a towel and returned to the main cabin where she helped him dress in clean sweats and a T-shirt, and then seated him in his comfortable chair in the corner, draping a blanket over him. Trip rested his head against the back of the chair, obviously very weary and in pain.

The door chime sounded, bringing items T’Pol had ordered before leaving the messhall. Chef arrived with a tray of chicken broth and juices. He set this before Trip, handing him a spoon for the soup. As Chef departed, a staff person from housekeeping delivered clean sheets, and shortly thereafter Phlox arrived. The doctor proceeded to scan Trip, tutting over his high temperature. Applying a hypospray to Trip’s neck, Phlox assured T’Pol that the combination of medication and sleep would soon heal her sick human.

T’Pol stripped the bed and remade it with fresh sheets and pillow cases. Trip slowly consumed the soup, finishing just as T’Pol was done. She helped him back into bed and covered him up. Pulling up a chair, she took his hand rubbed it gently. Before long he was asleep, and his slumber appeared restful. Brushing her hand through his hair, she rested her hand on his forehead and felt the head emanating from him. Her poor human really was sick.

Rising from her chair, T’Pol realized she was wet from the shower and found some sweats and a T-shirt to change into. She then curled up in the comfortable chair in the corner, reaching for the scanner with the idea of examining the upgrade. Instead she found herself watching the man sleeping across the room. He always intrigued her, but she never expected to find him so vulnerable to a common illness. It frightened her slightly that he was so fragile and susceptible to germs. It wasn’t something she cared to think about. She suddenly realized he was always the one who took care of her and he made sure her work and experiments went as smoothly as possible. He tried to make the equipment she needed meet her requirements. She often forgot that Mr. Tucker was human because he had become Mr. Tucker to her, not merely a human.

Sometimes, however, she would find it preferable if he would stop with his caretaking. A movie every year or so would be more than adequate – she did not feel marathons of movies selected and organized for her entertainment were necessary. She seldom desired to sample the wide variety of foods Mr. Tucker obviously enjoyed. She admitted to herself she would sometimes choose to read a story together with him, to listen to jazz, to spend the time together in silence and contemplation.

She stopped mid-thought, and a plan to share her own interests with Mr. Tucker began to form in her mind. She had never cared for another being before, and didn’t realize the rewards of thinking about the needs of another and responding to those needs. But also she realized she had to let him know her own interests. Yes, a cozy evening reading, with music in the background, would improve Vulcan/human relations. Maybe she would have Chef create a menu and suggest a bottle of wine. And if Mr. Tucker didn’t care to read literature, T’Pol was certain she could find some warp engine drawings which would be just as engrossing. She was certain this human and Vulcan would eventually understand each other, and if not, then they would need to do more research into the problem and look for further solutions. Content with her plans, T’Pol curled up in the comfortable chair, and continued to watch Mr. Tucker until she fell asleep.

The End

Back to Fan Fiction Main Menu

Have a comment to make about this story? Do so in the Trip Fan Fiction forum at the HoTBBS!


A whole mess of folks have made comments

Awwww... poor wittle baby Trip is sick and his Polly is there to take care of him.

And this is why I'm a reader not a writer! Awesome job myst123! I loved T'Pol getting advice from Hoshi and caring for her "poor sick human." Men such babies >eg< More please!

This was wonderful, myst! I do hope we get a chance to see something like this on the show. Great job! :-)

I think you had a great dialogue with T'Pol and Hoshi. This was a great story, full of human-ness. And, yes I will try not to whine and be a big baby the next time I get sick.

That was marvellous! And perfect characterizations! I sit here with a long "awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww" on my lips, melting on the spot!

Thank you so much!

This story made my day!!!
I'm also ill and have to stay at home *cough*!!!
I will try not to be a baby but ,hey my nickname is
baby trekkie ,so why should I not be like a baby ?
I think this story needs a sequel !
*cough,cough,cough*

I just loved this and the way T'Pol took Trip's initial "I'm dyin'" comment as literal made me smile. And then the misunderstanding about how to care for a human being put right with a little help from Hoshi was so sweet. I would love to see a sequel story with Trip's reaction and how he would thank T'Pol once he is fit and back on his feet again. Wonderful thanks, Ali D :~)

I second Alison's suggestion. Great job, Myst. Looking forward to more.

Ok first off not all men dont act like babies when their sick!!!!!!!! Heck I rarely ever get sick and when I do I sure the heck dont let any one know it. Just keep working. Sorry ya kinda hit a nerve. That said I loved that T'pol wanted to check up on Trip and then wanted to help but didnt have a clue on how to go about it. It was great that at this moment she finaly relised why he was always doing his best for her and show her things he liked, and then she relised that she wanted to do the same for him. Real sweat Story. And agree with Alison & Aquila, a sequel would be great.

great, i love it, thank you, please continue soon.

Oh yeah this totally demands a sequel myst! You can't just leave it there!:D Plleeeaaassseeee?

I am going to make my hubby read this. My hubby is such a baby when he is sick. Great story. A sequel would be nice.

Wonderful story Myst. I really loved it. A sequel would be great. Thank you.

Oh Myst, what a poignant story. I would love to read about Trip's response when he's feeling better. Please let there be a sequel!

Wonderful! Made my day! Made me go "Awwww!"

Such a warm slice of Trip and T'Pol life, extremely well done. I loved Hoshi, or as she is otherwise known, shipwide...'Ask Suzy...' Great job!

This was just so warm and sweet, thanks so much Myst! I liked how their relationship was just taken for granted by Hoshi, and by the other crewpeople. I would love to hear Trip's internal dialogue when he wakes up feeling better to see T'Pol asleep in his chair! Just wonderful. THanks.

Loved it, Thanks for sharing this delightful story with us.

This is a fun take. And yes men are such big babies when they get sick. I love T'Pol asking Hoshi for tips.

This is a great story to make you feel better when you aren't feeling well ^_^. I've been sick all week. I remember taking care of my grandpa when he was sick. He always told me he was dying. He's still kicking, though, the big baby :-P.

Just found this one! You described exactly how grown up men turn into babies when they feel a little sick. I know that, I'm married! And T'Pol's reactions are plain hilarious. Guess she learned a lot about humans during Trip's flu.
Great story, thanks for sharing it with us.

Awww. I wonder if he gets to return the favour?

I am making my way gradually through all the stories on this site, and I wanted to say that I find this one of the most ... charming.