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Future Perfect

Author - plumtuckered | F | Genre - Angst | Genre - Finale Fix Challenge | Genre - Romance | Rating - PG-13
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FIX-The FINALE Challenge

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Future Perfect

By plumtuckered


RATING: PG13
DISCLAIMER: It all belongs to Paramount. No Infringement intended.
GENRE: Angst/Romance
SUMMARY: Trip and T’Pol face a crisis that alters the future and their relationship.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This was a tough story for me to finish simply because I thought TATV was so poorly written and so poorly conceived, it didn’t need fixing, it just needed ignoring. Finally, though, I’m finished. Please let me know what you think.

Thank you in advance!

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PROLOGUE

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“You look---heroic.”

Jonathan Archer turned on the stairs that led up to the dais on which he hoped he would be giving the speech of his life and looked at his first officer. T’Pol stood looking back at him with a placid expression, but her eyes conveyed her pride in him---and her overwhelming grief for a loss only days old.

He descended the few stairs quickly and embraced her. Her arms remained at her sides and Jon could sense that he’d startled her, but he didn’t care. He hugged her for the friend she was, for the pain in which they both found themselves, and he hugged her for the man who was no longer with them, the man who should have been standing at their sides.

&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&

SIX YEARS EARLIER

&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&

Commander Trip Tucker forced himself to focus on the data padd he held for what he thought was only the billionth time in the last hour. He’d found it difficult to stay focused on anything except the death of his baby daughter and once again his thoughts strayed to Elizabeth’s precious face, her fragile little body, and her perfect Vulcan ears; the ears she had inherited from her mother. It had been two weeks, but to Trip it still only seemed like the day before.

“Sir?”

Enterprise’s Chief Engineer started slightly then looked up to meet the worried green eyes of Lieutenant Anna Hess.

“I’m sorry, sir, but you seemed miles away,” the young woman continued.

“I guess I was.”

“Why don’t you take a break, sir? You look tired.”

Trip waved a dismissive hand. “I’m fine, Anna.”

“Sir, you’ve been here since before I clocked in this morning.”

“Long hours are part of the job, Anna,” replied Trip with what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“Maybe when we’re in the middle of the Expanse, but we’re running at peak efficiency, sir. You could afford to take some time off.”

“I said I was fine, Lieutenant,” hissed the commander sharply. He sighed and dropped his head in shame. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, sir.”

Trip lifted his eyes and met the lieutenant’s. “I just really need to work right now, okay?”

Anna smiled gently. “Aye, sir,” she replied. “I’ll get back to running that diagnostic then.”

Trip nodded and watched the young woman walk away. His gaze then fell back to the padd in his hand. He sighed and tossed it on the workbench knowing it was folly to believe he’d absorb anything that was written on the little screen. He reached out and pulled a plasma injector to him then stared at the piece of equipment blankly, his thoughts once again straying to Elizabeth and her mother.

Her mother.

The engineer felt his throat painfully constrict. He’d hardly seen T’Pol since the memorial. After the service, he’d immediately sensed the door being shut, cutting him off emotionally from her again and it had hurt. They’d been there for each other the night of Elizabeth’s death, held hands and shared their strength through their bond. That support had continued through the service two days later then it was just simply gone. T’Pol had pulled away from him. He’d tried to reach out to her through their bond, but she wouldn’t accept his presence in the white room. She didn’t need him and Trip had tried to convince himself that he didn’t need her either.

But he knew he’d never been more wrong.

&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&

“Is this a bad time, Phlox?”

The Denobulan doctor turned from his microscope to see Jonathan Archer enter sickbay. “Ah, Captain,” he greeted. “No, of course not, come in, come in. Is there something wrong?”

Archer waved his hand. “No, no, I’m fine,” he replied. He crossed the few meters that separated the two men to stand at Phlox’s side. “I wanted to ask you about Trip and T’Pol.”

“What about them?”

“How are they doing? It’s been two weeks since----since Elizabeth’s death. T’Pol works her shifts then disappears to her quarters and I’ve hardly even seen Trip outside of Engineering. I’ve tried to get him to join me to watch football or water polo, but he always says he’s too busy. Neither of them have joined me for a meal.” The captain sighed. “I’m worried about them, Phlox. Really worried.”

“I’ve been trying to keep an eye on both of them, Captain. T’Pol is having her meals sent to her quarters and she is getting sufficient sleep.” He paused and smiled somewhat sadly. “She believes it is illogical not to care for her physical well-being during such a time.” His smile faded. “She is simply meditating more than usual as she moves through the grieving process. This is very difficult for her, Captain, probably the most difficult time she has experienced in her young life. She is coping the only way she knows how---as a Vulcan would.” Phlox pursed his lips and tucked his chin. “Now Commander Tucker, on the other hand, is----.”

Archer nodded knowingly. “Coping the only way he knows how, the same way he did when his sister died,” he finished.

“Yes. When I’m finally able to track him down, most often in the bowels of the ship, he insists he’s doing fine, but Lieutenant Hess has reported that he’s been working double shifts, sometimes triple shifts, and skipping meal breaks. And based on his appearance, it seems he’s having trouble sleeping as well.”

“I should have known he’d react like this, but I thought with this bond between them, they’d be handling this together. That doesn’t appear to be the case.”

Phlox sighed. “The death of a child can tear apart a couple whose relationship is built on a solid foundation, Captain. The commanders were just beginning to build their foundation when they were faced with this devastating loss. It’s unfortunate but understandable that it would affect their relationship in a negative capacity.”

“But they seemed so united at the funeral, Phlox. I really thought they were going to be okay.”

“And they may still be, Captain, given time. You must remember that because of their bond, they’re more than likely experiencing not only their own grief, but their mate’s as well. To what extent, I’m uncertain. To my knowledge, there hasn’t been such a bond between the two species before, but I believe it is safe to say they’re dealing with quite a lot emotionally.”

“Is there anything we can do to help them through this?”

“I’m afraid all we can do is offer our support.”

The captain nodded. “Well, I think it’s best that I leave T’Pol to her meditations, but Trip’s a different story.”

“Captain, don’t push him too hard, hmmm? He’s in a fragile state right now. When I say offer him support, that’s exactly what I mean.”

Archer smiled. “I understand, Phlox.”

The Denobulan sighed sadly as he watched the captain leave sickbay. He stood quietly staring at the closed doors for a long moment. He’d tried so hard to save little Elizabeth, but the damage had been done the second she’d been created and he’d been helpless to undo it.

Not for the first time, Phlox sniffed back the tears that threatened to fall. He turned from the doors and focused his mind on his work again.

&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&

Jon entered Engineering with trepidation. He closed the door quietly behind him then turned to observe the bustling department. Something seemed different and he quickly realized what it was. There was no laughter, no teasing barbs being tossed about. Everyone was silent as they moved about concentrating on their jobs.

The captain’s eyes found Trip standing at his workbench, his body hunched over a plasma injector. The engineer was staring at the piece of equipment, but didn’t really seem to be seeing it.

Jon slowly approached his friend. “Trip?”

The commander jumped slightly then looked up at Jon. “Oh, Cap’n. Sorry, didn’t see you come in,” he stumbled somewhat embarrassed. “Something I can do for you, sir?”

Jon casually leaned a hip against the bench. “Just checking in,” he replied easily. “Join me for dinner tonight?”

Trip swallowed and looked back down at the injector. “No, sorry sir, I can’t. I’ve just got so much----.”

“Trip.”

The younger man sighed. “I’m sorry, sir, but I wouldn’t be very good company. I’ll grab something to eat later.” He smiled weakly. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I’ll always worry about you, Trip. That’s what friends do.”

Trip nodded, but didn’t look up, his focus suddenly moving elsewhere, somewhere far away. Then he visibly snapped back to reality and returned to working on the injector.

Jon took a long moment to examine his friend, noting the dark shadows under his eyes, the palpable tension in his body. He was hurting and Jon had no idea how to help him.

“Bridge to Captain Archer.”

Jon crossed over to the wall comm. and pressed the button. “Archer,” he responded.

“Captain, we’re being hailed. It’s Commander Shran, sir,” replied Hoshi Sato.

“Shran?” puzzled Jon. “I’ll be right there.”

Trip looked up at him, a look of bewilderment on his face. “Wonder what he wants?”

Jon shrugged. “Care to find out with me?”

The engineer shook his head. “Nah, if you need me, you know where to find me.”

“Come on, Trip. Hoshi’s been having some problems with static---subspace interference---something like that. I can’t hear anything, but she swears it’s there. Maybe you can figure out what’s happening.”

“She hasn’t mentioned it to me before.”

“She knows you’ve been-----,” Jon started then he cleared his throat. “She knows you’ve been busy. I know she’ll appreciate it.”

Trip gave the captain a look that clearly conveyed he didn’t like the idea very much. Jon tipped his head to the side and held his friend’s eyes steadily. Finally, Trip nodded and followed Jon out of Engineering.

&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&

T’Pol stood from the captain’s chair and turned to the turbolift. She could feel his presence even before the doors opened, sense his apprehension and she had to battle to control her own. She’d only seen Trip on a professional level over the last two weeks and even then, their meetings had been brief. He’d needed her, this she knew, but what he needed she was afraid to give. Fear had become an emotion to which she’d become far too familiar.

The door slid open and Archer stepped forward. “Put him through,” he ordered to Hoshi.

T’Pol moved a couple steps away from the chair, her eyes fixed on the man who remained just outside the ‘lift doors. Trip held her gaze, his blue eyes filled with such devastating pain, T’Pol had to look away. Her heart ached for him, beat for him, yet she could not help him.

She moved quickly to her station, her arm brushing his as she passed. She couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath as he washed over and through her and she heard him gasp as well. The connection between them, the one that enabled them to work so efficiently together, the one that confused and infuriated them both, hit T’Pol and for a brief moment, shattered her control. She turned to look at him again and saw that he had felt it, too. She saw his hand lift slightly from his side as if he was going to reach for her, and she forced herself to look away again.

As T’Pol sat down, a part of her she didn’t want to acknowledge, a part of her she needed to ignore, stepped forward within her and she felt herself tremble. She fought to bury it again, to tuck it away, hide it somewhere in the darkest recesses of her mind, but to no avail. She felt the fear and she silently cursed her weakness.

“Captain Archer.”

T’Pol’s inner battle ended and she looked forward to the bridge view screen to see the Andorian commander’s face staring back at the captain. Behind Shran, she could see smoke and sparks, his crew moving quickly to put out flames that flickered occasionally into view.

“What happened, Shran?” asked Archer. He moved down to stand next to the helm.

“We were attacked,” replied the commander.

“By whom?”

“It was without warning, unprovoked. We didn’t even see a ship.”

T’Pol watched the Andorian’s face sensing immediately that something wasn’t right, that he was withholding information.

“You didn’t see a ship?” repeated Malcolm Reed incredulously.

Shran’s eyes moved to the lieutenant. “They were cloaked.”

Archer turned and glanced at Reed. “A cloaked ship.”

“You’re thinking the same thing I am, Archer,” said Shran, his gaze moving back to the captain.

“We’ve only encountered two species with cloaking technology, Shran, and I doubt the Suliban would attack you.”

“Romulans.”

T’Pol heard Trip shift on his feet beside her. “Why would they attack you?” he asked.

Shran’s eyes fell on the engineer and he studied him for a long moment. T’Pol saw a look of anguish cross the blue features then quickly disappear.

“Shran?” prompted Archer.

“I don’t know,” replied the Andorian commander tersely. “All I know is my ship is heavily damaged. I need your help. Or more specifically, I need Commander Tucker’s help.”

Trip stepped down to Archer’s side. “What can I do?” he asked.

Shran paused and T’Pol could see his jaw muscles twitch. “Our engines are off-line, Commander. My staff could use a hand in making repairs.”

“I’d be happy to help,” said Trip. He turned to Archer. “Cap’n?”

T’Pol again felt an overwhelming sensation that something wasn’t right. “Commander,” she said as she rose to her feet. “I am not certain you should offer your assistance without further investigation.”

The engineer glanced over his shoulder at her, his eyebrows quirked in confusion. “Why not?”

T’Pol could sense his impatience with her, but to his credit his voice remained carefully neutral.

“I’m just going to help with repairs. What’s there to investigate?” Trip continued.

Archer turned to look at his first officer. “T’Pol?”

The Vulcan hesitated then nodded once and sat down, her trepidation still gnawing at her middle.

“I’ll send Trip over in a shuttlepod, Shran,” said the captain as he turned back to the view screen. “Is your launch bay undamaged?”

Shran nodded. “Yes. I appreciate your help, Commander,” he said, his eyes focused on Trip.

“My pleasure. Give me a few minutes to grab my toolkit and I’ll be right over.”

The Andorian nodded his assent then his face disappeared from the screen. T’Pol looked at the battle-damaged ship that replaced Shran’s countenance. Something wasn’t right, she felt it, knew it. She watched Trip cross in front of her and enter the turbolift. He turned and his eyes met hers for a brief moment then the door slid closed and he was gone.

T’Pol turned her attention back to her keyboard, staring blankly at it for several long moments.

“T’Pol?”

The science officer looked up to see Archer suddenly standing before her. “Captain, I request a few moments away from my post.”

Archer frowned. “What is it, T’Pol?”

“I am---uncertain, Captain,” the Vulcan replied as she rose to her feet again. “With your permission----.”

“Of course.”

T’Pol could feel the captain’s concerned eyes on her back as she entered the ‘lift just vacated by Trip. His scent still lingered in the air around her and she closed her eyes briefly before turning around to face the bridge. Archer was still looking at her worriedly as the door slid closed.

As T’Pol stepped off the ‘lift, she saw Trip striding with purpose toward the launch bay doors, his toolkit clasped in one hand. “Commander!” she called then increased her pace to catch up with him. “Trip!”

The engineer stopped and turned, his youthful face rigid. He tipped his head to one side and regarded T’Pol expectantly, his blue eyes simmering.

“You should take extra care on this mission, Commander.”

Trip squinted his eyes. “Why? What’s going on with you, T’Pol? This is Shran we’re talking about here.”

“I am aware of that.”

“Then what is it? Don’t tell me you’re worried about me because I know that isn’t it.”

T’Pol started slightly at the almost bitter comment. “Commander?”

Trip shook his head and waved a dismissive hand. “Never mind. I’ll be sure to---take extra care.” Then he turned and strode forward again.

T’Pol stood for a moment watching Trip’s departing form. She could feel his hurt, the pain she had caused him, like waves crashing over her. Her heart urged her to go after him, to correct the wrong before he left, but her feet wouldn’t move. The fear she loathed so much held her in place and all she could do was watch as the commander disappeared into the launch bay.

She stared at the closed doors for a long moment then turned and moved back to the turbolift. As she rode the ‘lift up to the bridge, T’Pol closed her eyes and forced herself to focus on finding her center again. She still felt disconcerted when the ‘lift door slid aside. She moved forward, her eyes drawn to the sight of the Andorian ship on the view screen.

“Be careful, Trip. I’ll check in with you in an hour,” said Archer. He turned his head to look up at T’Pol as he released the comm. button on his chair. “Everything okay?”

T’Pol nodded. “Yes, Captain.”

“Shuttlepod One has launched, sir,” announced Travis Mayweather. “Wait a minute----sir!”

T’Pol’s eyes returned to the view screen. She watched in shock as the shuttlepod was engulfed in a bubble of white light. She hurried to her station and ran her fingers over her keyboard, her eyes searching her screen for the results of her quick scans. She could hear Archer yelling at Reed to bring weapons on-line, could hear Hoshi anxiously hailing Trip. She glanced up in time to see the little ‘pod disappear.

Archer stepped over to stand in front of T’Pol’s station. “Where is he?” he demanded.

T’Pol just returned his gaze helplessly.

“Damn it,” the captain cursed. “Find him, T’Pol.” Then he looked at Hoshi. “Get Shran.”

“I have him, Captain,” announced the communications officer after only seconds.

The Andorian commander appeared on the view screen, his face solemn.

“Shran?” hissed Archer with venom.

“I’m sorry, Pinkskin, but they left me no choice.”

&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&

Malcolm Reed stood riveted to his spot in front of the transporter, his mind still struggling to comprehend what had happened earlier. One moment the shuttlepod had been there, the next it had just vanished.

The lieutenant gripped the rifle he held a little tighter as a young ensign activated the transportation device. He heard his security team behind him shift into place and knew without looking that their weapons were directed at the transporter pad before them. Beside him, Archer stood still, the anger radiating off of him in waves. T’Pol stood rigid on the captain’s other side, her hands clasped firmly behind her back.

“What the hell is going on, Shran!” demanded Archer angrily when the Andorian materialized. “Where is Trip?”

Shran’s usually suspicious face conveyed only remorse. “They left me no choice.”

“So you’ve already said, “ spat Malcolm. “What happened to the commander?”

“They took him.”

“The Romulans?” asked T’Pol evenly. “Why would they want Commander Tucker?”

“Is there somewhere else we can discuss this, Archer?”

“Certainly, Shran. Would you like a meal first, perhaps some Andorian ale?”

Shran squinted his eyes. “What I just did, Pinkskin, saved the life of my crew.”

“What you just did will no doubt lead to Commander Tucker’s death,” stated T’Pol flatly although Malcolm could hear the venom behind her words.

“I need to explain,” said Shran. “But not here.”

Archer hissed out a breath between his teeth, tipped his chin up and glared down his nose at the alien commander. “All right, Shran,” he relented. “This way.”

Malcolm and his security team followed behind Archer, T’Pol, and Shran to the command center. He motioned for his team to stay outside then he followed the other three into the room. He stood just inside the door still gripping his rifle firmly.

“Now what just happened?” demanded Archer harshly.

“Have you ever had a---vision?”

Malcolm scowled and looked to the captain who appeared just as perplexed by the strange question as he was.

“Two days ago, someone appeared to me in the middle of the night. She showed me----showed me--.”

“She showed you what?” prompted the Vulcan commander.

Shran narrowed his eyes. “She showed me the future,” he replied.

“The future?” repeated Malcolm. He stepped further into the room and moved to his captain’s side. “What the bloody hell are you talking about?”

Archer put up a hand to stop the armory officer. “Let him finish, Lieutenant,” he ordered firmly.

Shran began to pace, his hands balling into fists at his side. “I thought I was dreaming, but she showed me things, she proved to me that I was really watching events that won’t take place for another six years.”

“What events?” asked the captain.

“The specifics aren’t important,” retorted Shran. “I saw what I was to become and I was given a chance to change it.”

“I don’t think it was that easy,” said Archer then he paused clearly mulling over the information. “Tell me, Shran, did your visitor tell you she was some sort of---agent?”

The commander nodded. “Yes, “ he replied eyeing the captain suspiciously. “She was Andorian, said she was a---a Temporal Agent. Her name was Briel.”

Malcolm threw a quick glance at Archer and met the captain’s eyes. “Sir,” he began.

Archer looked back at Shran. “What exactly happened? What did this---Briel show you?”

Shran’s eyes narrowed again. “You believe me, Pinkskin?”

“Not yet.”

The Andorian regarded Archer then turned back to pacing. “She showed me my future self,” he explained. “I was no longer in the Imperial Guard, I was married to---I was married and we had a daughter.” He smiled briefly. “She was beautiful,” he said wistfully then he visibly shook himself from his reverie. “I had disobeyed direct orders from my superiors and was court-martialed, banished from Andoria. Briel said I could change that and I took her offer.”

Malcolm glanced at T’Pol to see his own skepticism mirrored in her dark eyes.

“This doesn’t explain what happened to Trip,” said Archer.

Shran dropped his gaze to the floor and stopped pacing. “The orders I originally disobeyed were the ones I received just this morning---after the Romulans attacked us, after they made---certain demands of me.”

“And just what were those demands, Commander?” asked Malcolm.

Shran hesitated. “To act as bait, to give the Romulans a human who had knowledge of Earth’s technology and of Earth’s weapons,” he replied. He looked up at Archer. “More specifically, someone who knew Enterprise inside and out.”

“Commander Tucker,” stated T’Pol icily.

“Yes.”

“So to save yourself from a future court-martial, you gave up Trip’s life?”

“Archer, they would have destroyed my ship, killed over half my crew! I had no choice.”

The captain’s back stiffened, his whole being conveying his simmering anger. “Apparently you felt differently the first time around.”

“Do you really think I’d willingly give up Commander Tucker just to save myself? I wanted to defy those orders, Pinkskin, but I knew what would happen if I did. I KNEW it, I SAW it.”

“You would have faced a court-martial,” hissed Malcolm.

“I did it to save my crew, not just myself!” insisted Shran vehemently.

“Do you know where they took him?”

Shran shook his head dejectedly. “No, but Briel told me he would be returned.”

Malcolm snorted derisively. “Alive? And we’re supposed to believe that?”

“I do.”

“Lieutenant, please escort Commander Shran to the brig,” hissed Archer.

“The brig? I’ve committed no crime!”

Archer looked at Malcolm. “Lieutenant, you have your orders.”

Malcolm motioned to the Andorian with his rifle. “Come with me.”

Shran visibly bristled, but complied, moving ahead of the armory officer to the door. He stood in front of it for a moment then turned to Archer. “I am sorry, Pinkskin,” he said. “If there had been any other way----.” Then he opened the door and strode from the room.

&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&

Trip awoke with a jolt, his head snapping up, his awareness returning immediately. He’d been transported from the ‘pod into some sort of lab on what he could only believe was the Romulan ship. He’d only had a second to look around the sterile looking room before he’d felt a presence behind him then the cold barrel of a hypospray pressed against his neck.

The engineer blinked his eyes hoping they’d adjust to the darkness surrounding him. Then panic hit him like a physical blow; he couldn’t see. He was blind. Trip fought to keep his breathing steady knowing it was not the time to lose his ability to think straight. He squeezed his eyes shut and counted silently to ten then opened them again feeling more centered. He could tell he was sitting in a chair, both his wrists and ankles bound tightly to its frame. He couldn’t move.

“Your blindness is only temporary, Commander.”

Trip looked in the direction of the voice, struggling fiercely against his restraints. “What the hell do you want with me?” he demanded.

“Information.”

Trip stilled his movements. “I know you, your voice.”

“You have a good memory. Do all---humans?”

“You’re the son of a bitch who tried to kill me and Malcolm on that drone ship,” guessed Trip. His body suddenly convulsed as a flash of white-hot pain shot up his arms and legs. He couldn’t help the scream that escaped his lips.

“You didn’t answer my question, Commander. Do all humans have such good memories?”

Trip gasped for air. “How the hell should I know,” he spat.

Again the pain shot through his body and he threw his head back and rode it out, biting his lip hard in order not to scream again. He tasted blood.

“Your species is fragile, Commander. This would be much easier on you if you cooperated with me.”

“Go to-----!” the engineer began, but yet another bolt of lightening lanced through him. When it passed, his head fell forward, saliva mixed with the distinctive taste of blood dripping from his open mouth as he fought to catch his breath.

“This is a simple question, Commander. Perhaps you should just answer it.”

“You better just---move onto---the harder questions then, because---I’m not telling you squat,” Trip panted with defiance. He heard the alien slowly pacing around him and he squinted his eyes to try to see the man, but it was to no avail. All that met his eyes was darkness. He angled his head slightly and listened to the heaviness of the footfalls and guessed that the man was probably bigger than he was.

“You are a stubborn one, Human.”

Trip smiled. “So I’ve been told.” He felt warm hands suddenly gripping his forearms where they were bound to the chair, felt hot breath gusting against his face and he couldn’t help the fear that rose suddenly within him.

“You WILL tell me what I want to know,” warned the alien menancingly.

The commander straightened his posture and lifted his chin. “And you can go to hell,” he hissed.

&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&

T’Pol stared coldly at the man before her. “You requested my presence?”

Shran stood from the bunk in the little cell and approached the clear barrier that separated him from T’Pol. He looked her up and down appraisingly then settled his eyes on her face, his lips curling into an all too familiar sneer. “Starfleet seems to agree with you, Vulcan,” he said somewhat lasciviously. “Or perhaps it’s Commander Tucker who agrees with you.”

T’Pol felt her rate of respiration increase slightly as the spark of anger heated her blood, but she simply held the Andorian’s eyes steadily for a long moment then turned to leave.

“You don’t have his sense of humor yet, I see.”

The first officer stopped and turned. “You did not intend your comments to be humorous.”

Shran’s face softened slightly. “No, I guess I didn’t,” he admitted. “Some habits are hard to break.”

T’Pol’s eyebrow arched upward. “So it would seem.”

“I really did need to talk to you, Commander. There’s more to what happened, more then what I told Archer.”

“Continue.”

Shran lifted his chin and regarded the science officer. “You and I actually have something in common.”

T’Pol remained silent but moved back to stand squarely in front of the Andorian, her arms folded across her chest in a human stance she knew she’d gotten from Trip.

“We both love someone who isn’t quite---accepted by our people.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course you do. I know all about you and your human lover. I saw the future, remember?” Shran stepped closer to the barrier. “You love a human and I love an Aenar.”

“Jhamel.”

Shran nodded. “Her people are looked upon as abhorrent in Andorian society. If my superiors knew I was involved with her, I’m not entirely sure what would happen.”

“And what do our respective relationships have to do with your decision to turn Commander Tucker over to the Romulans?”

Shran eyed her suspiciously. “Is that anger I detect, Commander?”

T’Pol steeled her jaw and stared icily back at the Andorian.

Shran looked momentarily taken aback, but he quickly recovered. “I guess it is,” he murmured. “There was something else Briel showed me.”

“And what was that?”

“She showed me Commander Tucker’s death.”

T’Pol inhaled a steadying breath. “His death.”

“Yes,” replied Shran tightly. “The death I witnessed took place six years from now. He died because of me, because of something stupid I did. I was given a chance to save my crew and myself, Commander, but I was also given a chance to save him.”

T’Pol eyed the Andorian speculatively. Whether or not a temporal agent truly existed and had visited him like Crewman Daniels had done with the captain in the past, she could not say with certainty, but the man before her sincerely believed it had all happened; as duplicitous as his species could be, Shran did have a sense of honor, albeit an odd one.

The alien commander watched T’Pol closely through squinted eyes. “You’ve also been given a chance to right a wrong, you know,” he added.

“What do you mean?”

“Your relationship with him had ended six years prior to the events I witnessed.” Shran’s eyes squinted further. “Which would mean it ended at this point in time. Whatever went wrong, is going wrong right now, you have a chance to fix it----if you want to.”

T’Pol started slightly at the revelation. She’d always believed that one day she’d overcome the sickening fear that haunted her and then they’d be together. He wouldn’t walk away, not Trip. He’d always be there. Then she recalled his final words to her in the corridor outside the launch bay and her throat constricted painfully. Suddenly, she realized how terribly selfish she’d been and she wondered if her fear had finally caused her to lose the one person she cherished above all others.

“I don’t really care if you believe me, Vulcan. My conscience is now clear,” said the Andorian returning once again to the persona to which T’Pol had become accustomed. He turned from her and sat on his bunk. “Tell Archer he has no reason to hold me here. I’m needed back on my ship.”

T’Pol nodded once. “I will relay your message,” she replied. She turned to the door then stopped, her equilibrium suddenly disrupted. Darkness crowded her vision and all sound disappeared except for the echo of breathing, her own---and someone else’s. T’Pol closed her eyes against the dizziness and focused on the sound rushing through her ears. She knew with certainty that the gasping belonged to Trip. Fear gripped her and held her firmly as his breathing grew more panicked.

Then her mind reeled from his scream.

&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&

“We need to find him, Captain.”

Jon rested steadying hands on his first officer’s shoulders, focusing his eyes into her shattered ones. “We will, T’Pol. I promise you that,” he said hoping that his words conveyed to her a confidence he didn’t quite feel. “Are you sensing anything else?”

T’Pol dropped her gaze from the captain’s eyes. “Pain. All I can sense is his pain---and his fear.” She looked back at him and lifted her chin slightly. “And his defiance.”

Jon swallowed hard, an odd mixture of pride and terror washing over him; defiance could get his friend killed. He gently squeezed T’Pol’s shoulders then dropped his hands and moved across his ready room, ducking his head under the crossbeams.

“I should return to the bridge to assist in the search.”

The captain swung around to look at T’Pol. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”

“Yes, Captain,” replied the Vulcan evenly, her composure once again intact. “I am not feeling his pain physically so I should be able to continue my duties without failure.”

“T’Pol---.”

“Captain---please.”

Jon studied his science officer for a long moment then he nodded reluctantly. “All right, Commander.”

“I will recheck the sensor logs at the moment Commander Tucker was taken. Perhaps I can detect something we missed earlier. I would also like to review the logs from the Andorian ship---if the commander will release them to us.”

“He’ll release them to us,” replied Jon with certainty. “Keep me apprised of your findings.”

“Of course, Captain,” replied T’Pol then she turned and left Jon with his thoughts.

The captain moved to his portal and leaned forward on the sill. He stared at the vastness of space before him, his thoughts on the man who’d become important to him the moment they’d met. He was out there somewhere, hurting at the hands of the mysterious aliens, and Jon was powerless to help him. He felt physically ill at the images rolling through his mind and he squeezed his eyes shut against them. The agent had told Shran that Trip would be returned to them and Jon clung to that like a lifeline.

A buzzer sounded suddenly and Jon inhaled a steadying breath and turned around. “Enter.”

The door slid aside to reveal Shran, Malcolm standing right behind him. The two men entered the room, the Andorian moving boldly to the center.

Jon nodded at Malcolm. “That’s all, Lieutenant,” he said.

Malcolm looked like he was going to protest, but he pursed his lips then quietly left the captain and commander alone.

“You have no right to hold me here, Archer.”

“You’re right, I don’t.”

“Then why am I still here?”

Jon lifted his chin. “Because you sacrificed my friend for your own good,” he spat bitterly. He stepped directly in front of Shran and held his eyes. “I think I have a right to be angry about that, don’t you?”

“I did it----.”

Jon waved a dismissive hand. “You did it for the good of your crew. I heard you the first time.” He turned and walked back to his portal to look out. “Tell me Shran, has Briel ever visited you before?” In the reflection of the glass, he watched Shran’s eyes turn into mere slits as he regarded the captain’s back.

“Why?”

“Let’s just say it’s human curiosity.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Neither do I, Captain.”

Jon swung around, surprised by the new voice. Standing in the now open doorway was an elderly Andorian woman. Her short-cropped hair was whiter than he’d ever seen on her species, her blue skin wrinkled and hanging loosely around her calm face. In contrast to her aged body, her eyes appeared bright, intent, her antennae straight up and alert.

“Hello, Jonathan----Shran.” She turned and pressed the button to close the door.

“Who----?”

“Briel!”

The woman smiled up at Shran then turned her knowing gaze to Jon. “Human curiosity? I think not, Jonathan. You know all about us, very well, in fact.”

Shran looked at Jon and scowled. “What is she talking about, Pinkskin?” he demanded with a hiss.

Briel leaned back against the closed door, a smile gracing her aged features. “Shran, the esteemed Captain Jonathan Archer has a Temporal Agent of his very own,” she explained.

“What?”

Jon pursed his lips. “All right,” he replied tersely. “I’ve been visited once or twice by someone claiming to be an agent.”

“Not exactly the truth, but I’ll accept that,” said Briel.

“So all this time, you knew she really existed?”

The captain nodded. “I suspected,” he replied then he pointed a finger at Briel. “Now why don’t you tell me what happened to my friend?”

Briel sighed and dropped her head. “I am very sorry about the boy, Jonathan. You must know that. This had to happen in order to set the timeline straight again.”

“I don’t care about the damn timeline,” Jon spat. “I want Trip back----now!”

“He will be returned in time.”

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

Briel looked up at the captain sharply. “You must trust me.” She moved to stand directly in front of him. “To answer your question, only once before.”

Jon frowned down at the old woman. “What?”

“Only once before. I visited Shran only once before,” Briel replied patiently.

The captain blinked at the rapid change of subject.

“I told him to go into the Xindi vortex after you, that you would need his help.”

Jon looked to Shran. “I knew you weren’t simply at the right place at the right time.”

“You would have failed without my help, she showed me that,” replied the Andorian commander with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Jon smiled coldly. “So your motives were selfless?”

Shran looked quickly away. “Yes,” he replied.

“Oh, Shran,” sighed Briel with a shake of her head. “Don’t lie to the man.”

“You forget that I know you, Shran,” said the captain. “Now why don’t you tell me the real reason you chose to believe her, a complete stranger who appeared out of nowhere, who claimed to be from the future.”

“What, you wouldn’t have believed me?” asked Briel with wide-eyed innocence.

Shran ignored Briel and met Jon’s eyes, holding them steadily. “She told me that humans would play an important role in the future of Andoria.”

“Simple as that?”

“Yes.”

“And you believed her based on her words?”

“She showed me an event that will take place several years from now, a sort of gathering of Andorian allies. Humans were represented at the gathering.”

Jon eyed the commander closely as his mind pulled up the memories of being shown that identical image by Daniels---the signing of the Federation charter.

Shran lifted his chin with an air of self-importance. “She told me that I would also play a vital role in Andoria’s future as well as this gathering, that I was in fact a key figure to both our futures.”

Briel sighed, shook her head and stepped back to the door.

Jon’s eyebrows arched at Shran in surprise then he quickly recovered. He silently chided himself for even believing briefly that he could be the sole being of importance to the future of the universe. His eyes moved to Briel who simply stood looking back at him with a knowing, understanding smile on her face. He felt embarrassed suddenly by his own arrogance and looked away from the old woman.

“Jonathan,” said Briel gently and the captain heard in only the utterance of his name that she knew his discomfort. He felt even more embarrassed that she saw through him.

“You two have formed an alliance, a friendship, that will be needed and required for the futures of both species – Human and Andorian. Your friendship with the boy is vital as well,” Briel continued gently. She reached out a knotted hand and squeezed Jon’s hand. “He will be returned to you.”

Jon sighed. “All I care about is getting him back. I don’t care about the future right now.” He pulled his hand from Briel’s without rancor and turned back to his portal. He heard his door hiss open and when he turned back, the old Andorian was gone.

Shran’s face softened slightly. “I am sorry about all of this, Pinkskin.”

Jon nodded then wiped a hand over his mouth. “T’Pol could use your ship’s sensor logs to help us in our search.”

“I’ll have them transmitted to you when I return to my ship.”

The captain nodded. “You’re free to go,” he said softly.

Shran turned from him and stepped to the still-opened door. “She said he would be returned,” he offered quietly without looking back at Jon.

“She better be right.”

&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&

Trip knew he was still strapped to the chair, strapped to his cold metal prison. He couldn’t lift his chin from his chest; the effort was just far too great. He closed his eyes and tried to will away the pain, but to no avail. His mind sought out T’Pol, but the only thought that kept appearing was the one he’d repeated to himself over and over while the pain had raged; don’t give in, don’t give them what they want.

“Hold on just a little while longer, dear boy.”

Trip’s eyes flew open at the soft feminine voice. “What---who?” he stammered weakly. Without lifting his chin, he turned his head slowly and painfully in the direction of the voice, but nothing met his eyes except blackness.

A gentle hand touched the side of his head and fingers lightly stroked through his sweat-soaked hair. “Just a while longer.”

Trip pulled away from that intrusive hand. “Get the hell away from me,” he snarled. “Your sweet and innocent routine isn’t going to work.”

“Hush,” said the gentle voice, the hand still caressing. “You need to gather your strength back. It isn’t over yet, but I promise you it will be. Just hold on a little longer.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Your friends love you, she loves you. Be strong for them.” Then the touch was gone and Trip wondered if it ever really had been there at all.

The sound of the door hissing open made Trip’s blood turn cold.

“Ah, Commander. I expected you to be unconscious. I am pleased to see I underestimated you.”

“You back to waste more of my time?” spat Trip.

“Perhaps this is a waste of your time, Commander, but hardly of mine. I am learning quite a lot about your species.”

“Glad I could enlighten you.”

The Romulan chuckled and it sounded odd to Trip’s ears, like the warmth of it didn’t match the coldness of the being within whom it rumbled.

Using all the strength he possessed, the engineer lifted his chin from his chest and stared straight ahead into nothingness, his jaw clenched in defiance. “Let’s get on with this, shall we?”

The man chuckled again. “Fascinating.”

Something cold pressed against Trip’s neck and he instantly felt the fear rise. The hypo-spray hissed as it sent its contents swirling through the commander’s bloodstream. He couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath.

Then he felt his eyes slide shut and everything slowly faded except the sound of the Romulan’s deep demanding voice.

&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&

Malcolm could feel the tension and the worry like something alive in the air around him. He glanced up from his scans to view his crewmates. He could only see Hoshi in profile, but even so he could still see the frown she wore. He looked at Travis. He couldn’t see the young ensign’s face, but Malcolm could see the tautness in the helmsman’s posture. They were both concerned for Trip, each busy scanning his or her designated search area. Neither of them had had any luck finding any trace of the Romulan vessel and Malcolm could feel his hope dwindling as each hour ticked by. If they lost Trip----Malcolm couldn’t finish that thought. He found even the possibility of never finding his closest friend far too painful. He couldn’t even conceive of never seeing Trip again.

The lieutenant settled his gaze across the bridge on T’Pol. Her focus was squarely on the screen in front of her as she reviewed the Andorian sensor logs. He wondered how she was doing it, maintaining any semblance of control while Trip was missing. He marveled at her strength and wished he had even half of it. Her face appeared calm, but Malcolm had worked with the Vulcan commander long enough to know that she felt things deeply especially when Trip or the captain was involved.

He watched as her eyebrows dipped suddenly in what looked like an expression of discomfort. “Are you all right, Commander?” he asked.

T’Pol looked up and met Malcolm’s worried gaze. “Yes, Lieutenant,” she replied evenly, but the expression remained.

“Why don’t you take a break? You’ve been at this for eight hours straight.”

“As have we all, Lieutenant.”

Malcolm snorted slightly. “I guess you’re right.”

“I will---take a break once Commander Tucker is safely back on board Enterprise.”

Malcolm pursed his lips and nodded feeling somewhat foolish; if he wasn’t willing to step away for a few moments, he shouldn’t have expected that T’Pol would either.

“I do appreciate your concern, Lieutenant.”

Malcolm smiled then dropped his gaze back down to his scans.

“We’re being hailed, Commander!” cried Hoshi suddenly.

T’Pol stood from her chair. “By whom?”

Hoshi turned in her chair to look at the first officer, her dark eyes round with an odd combination of excitement and fear. “The Romulans---audio only,” she replied her voice trembling slightly.

Without hesitation, Malcolm paged the captain to the bridge. Only seconds later, Archer strode quickly from his ready room. He looked across at Hoshi and nodded his assent.

“Captain Jonathan Archer of the Earth ship Enterprise---.”

Malcolm felt his heart rate increase as he recognized the voice from his brief stay on the drone ship. He struggled to maintain his composure as he too rose to his feet. He glanced over at T’Pol to see her eyes filled with what he could only describe as hope.

“This is Captain Archer.”

“We are returning the one called Tucker, Captain. He is being allowed to live. He has proven his life to be an honorable one. Despite utilizing our proven methods of---extracting information from our enemies, he did not divulge that which we desired. If all---humans are like this one, you will prove a worthy foe---.”

Before Malcolm’s eyes, the shuttlepod appeared on the view screen, floating aimlessly in the sea of stars.

“---I look forward to meeting you in war, Captain. And trust me when I say---a war IS coming.”

The transmission ended abruptly.

“T’Pol!” shouted Archer.

“One bio-sign, Captain---human, but the readings are fluctuating greatly.”

“Travis, the grappler!” ordered the captain. “Hoshi, have Phlox meet me in the launch bay. Tell him we’ve got Trip back.” Then Archer headed to the turbolift. He turned and his eyes fell on T’Pol. He nodded at her in consent to her unasked question and she joined him in the ‘lift.

The armory officer stepped around his station. “Sir?” he implored.

“I’ll let you know, Malcolm. You have the bridge.”

&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&

T’Pol ran at Archer’s side across the large bay to the shuttlepod that lay quietly on the deck. Archer gripped the hatch door, lifted it and T’Pol climbed in quickly in front of him. Her eyes immediately found Trip lying in a heap on his side on the floor of the ‘pod. T’Pol thought it appeared as if he’d just been carelessly dropped there by his captors and she felt anger burning through her blood at his ‘honorable’ treatment.

She knelt, vaguely aware of Phlox’s arrival behind her. She struggled hard against the need to pull Trip into the protective shelter of her arms and settled for resting her palm against his cheek. He was cool and clammy, his breathing shallow and rapid, but he was alive. He was alive.

Archer knelt beside the first officer. “How is he?”

Before T’Pol could respond, the doctor moved in quickly beside her. “Kindly step back, Captain, Commander” he said as he leaned over to examine his patient.

T’Pol reluctantly inched away to give the Denobulan room to move then she watched as he ran his scanner over Trip’s form.

Phlox motioned for his medical team to enter the ‘pod. “He’s in shock. We need to get him to sickbay immediately.”

The urgency in the doctor’s voice chilled T’Pol to the bone. She stood and moved out of the way so the two crewmen could load Trip onto a stretcher. Phlox didn’t spare either T’Pol or Archer a glance as he quickly exited the ‘pod at the side of the supine commander. Both officers followed closely behind as the small group made its way to sickbay.

T’Pol waited a few meters from the bio-bed, Archer at her side, as Phlox hovered over Trip’s inert form. She felt odd, connected to Trip yet not connected. Even though he was only a short distance away, it seemed suddenly immeasurable. She felt his presence in her mind, but it wasn’t warm and comforting, but cold and confused. His emotions were powerful and frightening and T’Pol wondered if she was strong enough to bear them.

“How is he, Phlox?” asked Archer quietly as the doctor approached him.

“He’s stable.”

“Will he be all right?”

“I believe so, Captain. There is deep tissue damage that is consistent with electrical shock, but the damage isn’t irreparable.”

“Electrical shock?” repeated T’Pol tightly.

“I’m afraid so, Commander. There are also traces of a chemical in his system. I can’t tell you precisely what its purpose is without running some tests, but I can only surmise it was intended to cause compliance and---pain. His eyes are cloudy, probably some sort of substance meant to blind him, but I’ve applied a special wash to clear it.”

“Then it isn’t permanent?”

Phlox shook his head. “It doesn’t appear to be.”

Archer moved tentatively to the side of Trip’s bed and looked down at the engineer. T’Pol followed. To her, Trip looked as if he was only sleeping, his youthful face unmarred, yet she knew what he was feeling.

“He’s in pain, Doctor,” said T’Pol softly. She could feel Archer’s eyes move to her, but her gaze remained fixed on Trip’s too-pale face.

“I’ve given him an analgesic. Until I’ve identified the chemical in his blood, I’m leery of giving him anything stronger. Now, if you’ll excuse me----.”

“I’d like to stay, Phlox.”

“Captain,” said the doctor patiently. “I will keep both you and the commander apprised of Commander Tucker’s condition, but I must ask that you leave now so that I may treat him.”

“Doctor----.”

“Commander, please,” urged Phlox. He shooed them both toward the doors. “Let me do my job, hmmm?”

T’Pol clasped her hands at the small of her back, cast Trip one last glance then moved toward the door. She turned back to see Archer tenderly brush the hair from Trip’s forehead. He leaned down and whispered something in the engineer’s ear, squeezed his friend’s lax hand then followed T’Pol out of the room.

They walked in silence toward the turbolift that would take them both back to the bridge.

T’Pol stopped just outside the little ‘lift. “Captain, with your permission I’d like a few moments in my quarters before I resume my duties.”

Archer turned to her, lifting his chin and eyeing her speculatively. “No problem,” he replied then he lowered his chin and looked at her warmly. “He’s going to be okay, T’Pol.”

T’Pol nodded once in response. She moved beyond the captain as she headed toward her quarters, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by conflicting desires. She wanted to return to Trip’s side just to be with him, but she also wanted to remain away from him, her fear of what he meant to her a chill in the pit of her stomach. Trip was everything she could never and would never be yet she was drawn to him, she needed him like she’d never needed anyone else. And with him, it was all or nothing. She would not embark on a casual affair.

T’Pol entered her quarters and quickly lit her meditation candle, seeking answers within its flame.

&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&

“Trip?”

The voice was far away, but so familiar. Trip knew that voice, felt the calm that voice instilled in him warming his aching body.

“Come on, Trip. Open your eyes.”

He didn’t want to open his eyes, but something in that gentle voice told him he should, told him it was important to obey. His thoughts were so jumbled and his head hurt, but he trusted that voice. Slowly and with great effort, Trip forced his eyes to open.

“There you are. Welcome back.”

Trip turned his head toward that voice then blinked. “Cap’n?” His eyes were cloudy, the features of the man hovering over him blurry and dark. He blinked again as involuntary tears spilled down his temples.

“Your eyesight will return, Commander.”

The engineer followed the sound of the second familiar voice and rolled his head slightly to the other side. “Doc? Wh---what happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

Trip shook his head. “No. Last thing I remember was heading over to Shran’s ship in the shuttlepod.”

“You were taken by the Romulans, Trip,” explained Archer. “They---interrogated you.”

“Me? Why?” asked the commander in startled confusion. He turned his blurry gaze back to the captain.

“From what Shran told us, they wanted to know about Enterprise.”

Trip swallowed hard, a knot of cold fear forming in his stomach. “Enterprise? Did I tell them anything?”

Archer smiled and squeezed Trip’s arm. “Nope. Not a thing.”

“How do you know?”

“Because they returned you to us, Trip.”

The engineer lifted a trembling hand and covered his eyes. “I---I don’t understand, sir.”

Archer patted Trip’s arm gently. “I’ll tell you everything later. Right now, you need to rest.”

The sound of the sickbay doors hissing open drew Trip’s attention. He lowered his hand from his eyes and looked beyond his feet to see T’Pol enter the large room. He couldn’t quite focus on her face, but Trip could tell by her posture that she was relieved to find him awake. She approached the bio-bed and stood silently next to Archer.

“T’Pol,” greeted the engineer evenly.

“Commander, I am pleased to see you are awake.”

Trip squeezed his eyes shut. “Thanks.”

An awkward silence fell around the engineer and he heard Archer shifting uncomfortably beside him. Trip forced his eyes to open again, to look at T’Pol’s placid features. He lifted his hand slightly in a weak effort to reach for her, but then quickly dropped it back to his side. He could feel her emotions when they touched and he realized suddenly that he was deathly afraid of what he’d feel from her, or he thought sadly, afraid of what he wouldn’t feel from her.

T’Pol’s brows knitted together briefly then she took a step backwards. “I should let you rest, Commander,” she said softly. She hesitated, her eyes meeting Trip’s unfocused ones for a long moment then she turned and strode from the room.

Archer cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I should go, too, Trip.”

“Probably a good idea, Cap’n.”

“I’ll be back a little later, okay?”

Trip nodded. “Yes, sir.” He closed his eyes, forcing the tears to spill down his temples again, telling himself they were just a result of whatever had been done to his eyes. He felt Archer give his arm another gentle pat followed by a compassionate squeeze then he heard both he and the doctor as they left him alone.

&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&

“I suppose it’s a blessing Commander Tucker can’t remember anything.”

Jon glared across the dining table at the Andorian. “It doesn’t change what you did to him, Shran,” he hissed.

Shran appeared surprisingly contrite. “I know that, Pinkskin.”

“Dr. Phlox is not positive the loss of memory is permanent,” interjected T’Pol. “It is entirely possible the commander will suffer from flashbacks.”

Shran’s eyes narrowed. “If that happens, I’m sure you’ll be more than happy to help him with his recovery, Commander.”

Jon looked from his first officer sitting at his right to the Andorian who sat across from him. He suddenly felt a chill in the air and he cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“A recovery that would not be necessary if you had not-----,” began T’Pol.

“I did what I had to do,” interrupted Shran tersely.

“As you have stated many times before.”

Shran sat back in his chair and regarded T’Pol with angry eyes. “You Vulcans, so high and mighty,” he spat. “No wonder your relationship with Commander Tucker failed.”

“That’s enough,” barked Jon. He glanced at T’Pol to see her jaw muscle twitch, her eyes colder than he’d ever seen them before as they held the alien commander’s steadily.

Shran stood from his chair and leaned forward onto the table. “It was a mistake to come here, Pinkskin. I’ll return to my ship.”

“You haven’t seen Trip yet, Shran.”

“My apology will have to wait.”

“Sit down.”

Shran looked startled by Jon’s demand, but he reluctantly settled back into his chair.

“Trip needs to understand your reasons for turning him over to be tortured. You’re not leaving this ship until he does,” Jon continued sharply.

Shran angrily picked his fork up in his hand and focused on his meal. Jon couldn’t help but think of a child sulking when he didn’t get his way. He expelled a long breath then turned his own focus back to his meal.

“How is he doing?”

The captain sighed. “He says he’s feeling okay, but he looks like death warmed over,” he replied around a bite of tuna sandwich. “There’s still traces of a toxin in his blood, but Phlox says he’ll make a full recovery, it’ll just take some time.”

“Is he in much pain?”

“He says he’s not.”

“Although the commander has grown quite adept at lying about his physical and emotional conditions,” stated T’Pol evenly.

“Then you’ll have to make sure he doesn’t push himself too hard, Commander,” replied Shran without rancor.

T’Pol lifted a delicate brow. “Indeed.”

Jon hid his pleased smile behind another bite of his lunch.

“Sickbay to Captain Archer.”

Jon stood from the table and moved quickly to the wall comm. “Archer.”

“Commander Tucker is awake, Captain, though I doubt it will be for long.”

“We’ll be right there.”

&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&

Trip turned his head on his pillow at the sound of the voices just outside the privacy curtain that surrounded his bed.

“I’m not entirely certain this is a wise idea, Captain,” said Phlox. “He is very weak and the toxin isn’t dissipating as quickly as I’d hoped. It is causing him some discomfort.”

“I need to talk to him, Doctor.”

Trip frowned at the last voice. He wondered briefly why Shran was onboard Enterprise and why he needed to talk with him, of all people. The engineer closed his eyes, fighting to clear his pain-muddled thoughts. There was just so much missing, a gaping hole in his memories, and he found it frustrating. His body informed him without question that he’d been hurt badly, but the burning sensation coursing through his blood was the only evidence he had that anything had actually happened.

“Trip?”

The commander opened his eyes then squinted to bring them into focus. The clouds had cleared up a little, but he still couldn’t see clearly.

“You up for a visitor?” continued Archer gently.

Trip scowled. “I suppose,” he lied.

The captain pulled back the sheer screen and Shran stepped forward. Just over the Andorian’s shoulder Trip caught a glimpse of T’Pol. She met his eyes and held them for a moment then looked down. The commander felt a pain in his chest that he knew had nothing to do with his injuries.

“May I speak to you alone, Commander?” asked Shran.

Trip nodded his assent at Archer and the captain looked hesitant. “I’ll be right here if you need me,” he said then he eyed the Andorian. “Keep it brief, Shran.” He pulled the curtain back into place, shutting everyone out except the alien commander.

“He’s very protective of you,” observed Shran.

“He’s a good friend,” Trip replied simply.

Shran looked down at the engineer. “I wish I could tell you that you look well,” he said, a small sympathetic smile touching his lips.

Trip tried to smile back, but failed miserably. “I’m okay. Sorry I didn’t follow through on the repairs. They tell me I was---otherwise engaged.”

Shran moved to the foot of the bio-bed appearing uncomfortable as he gazed at Trip. “I am sorry about that, Commander.”

“Why are you sorry? You’re not responsible.”

The Andorian shifted on his feet and dropped his gaze to the sheet covering Trip’s feet.

“Are you?” added the engineer suspiciously. He listened intently as Shran described his meeting with Briel and the choice he’d had to make that led to Trip’s capture. The engineer could see the regret Shran felt over his actions, but anger and an odd sense of worthlessness sat cold in the pit of his stomach; he’d been sacrificed, pure and simple. His life had little value and would have no value in the future of Andoria or Earth it seemed. Maybe that’s why T’Pol had turned away from him. Maybe he simply wasn’t worth her effort. Maybe the future of which Shran spoke, the future in which they were apart, was really the best for her.

Trip closed his eyes and chided himself for the giant leap he’d just made.

“Commander?”

The engineer opened his eyes and waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about it,” he said nonchalantly. “Its not like I can remember anything anyway.”

Shran narrowed his eyes and regarded the engineer. “They tortured you because of what I did.”

“It doesn’t matter, Shran.”

“Doesn’t matter? What about you and the Vulcan? Does that matter?”

Trip turned his face away from the piercing blue eyes. “Not anymore, it seems. Sometimes things are just not meant to happen.”

“But you can change what happens, Pinkskin,” insisted Shran. He moved quickly up to the side of the bed, his voice almost pleading.

“I’m tired.”

Shran snorted softly in dismay.

“I’m really happy for you and Jhamel. Hopefully, you two can have another daughter.”

“Our daughter is already growing within her womb.”

Trip turned his eyes back to Shran. “But I thought----.”

“She’s already been conceived. Jhamel doesn’t even know yet,” explained the alien commander with a tenderness that surprised Trip. “She won’t know for several more months.”

Trip swallowed the lump that suddenly blocked his throat. “Congratulations,” he managed.

“I know about your daughter, Commander. You have my deepest sympathies.”

“Thanks.”

“You and the Vulcan could----.”

“No.”

“Commander---.”

Trip rolled his head to one side turning his eyes from Shran. “Would you mind sending the doc over? I’m not feeling so hot.” He heard Shran’s feet shuffle then still, felt the alien eyes on him, then heard him sigh and move away.

Tears built up suddenly in Trip’s tired eyes and he tried desperately to blink them away. Some detached part of him knew he was just exhausted from the pain and things would appear brighter when he felt better, they always did. His life wasn’t inconsequential and realistically he knew that. He also knew he had people who cared about him, even loved him.

He pulled the light blanket tightly around his shoulders. But the one person he wanted so much to love him didn’t and apparently never would.

Trip closed his eyes and willed himself not to let the tears fall.

&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&

Phlox looked again at the blood sample through his microscope then grunted in frustration. “I simply cannot identify some of these components, Captain. Without knowing how they’re affecting the commander’s system, I can’t alleviate his pain.”

Archer sighed then glanced over at the restless form of his friend. “He just seems to be getting worse,” he said. “Why would the Romulans tell us his life was worth saving, but give him something that might just kill him?”

“They probably didn’t know how it would affect human physiology,” guessed Phlox. “They needed information from him. They obviously didn’t feel it necessary to learn about his body chemistry.”

“How long can he hold out?”

“I’m not certain,” replied the Denobulan. “He’s only been back on board a few hours and the pain has grown increasingly worse. Until I’m sure what it is that’s causing this reaction, I don’t want to give him anything stronger than an analgesic.” He tucked his chin. “I may not have a choice, however.”

“T’Pol is contacting the Vulcan Medical Council. She thinks maybe they can help.”

Phlox nodded. “The commander believes the chemical might actually BE Vulcan, but for some slight variances in its make-up. Variances that have us baffled, I might add.”

“Vulcan? How can that be?”

“I’m not certain,” replied the doctor.

“Doc!”

Phlox moved quickly to Trip’s bedside and peered down at his patient. “Commander?”

Trip’s face shone with perspiration, his jaw clenched and twitching. “Any luck?”

“Not yet, Commander.”

“You up for another visit to Vulcan, Trip?” asked Archer. “T’Pol thinks they might be able to help.”

The engineer blanched visibly but shrugged. “I’ll go anywhere if it means getting rid of this burning. Feels like my insides are on fire, Cap’n.”

Archer pulled the blanket further up over his friend then gently rubbed the commander’s chest sympathetically. “You’ll be feeling better soon, Trip. Just hang in there for me, okay?”

Trip bit his lip. “I’m trying, sir,” he managed.

&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&

“How is he?”

T’Pol turned to see T’Pau standing a few meters away. “Minister,” she greeted with a slight tip of her head. “He is finally asleep.”

The woman approached the glass that separated Trip from the corridor in which both women stood. Her bearing was regal, quite the change from the rebel T’Pol had met only a few months prior. T’Pol turned her gaze back to peering at Trip who lay motionless on a bio-bed in the center of a dimly lit medical suite.

“Dr. Taalok is quite pleased with the commander’s response to the treatment.”

T’Pol nodded. “Thank you for allowing your personal physician to assist,” she said.

“Your gratitude is not necessary, T’Pol. Soval has told me much about your human. Vulcan is in his debt.”

T’Pol shifted uncomfortably. “He is not---my human, Minister.”

“Is he not the one?”

The first officer turned to look at T’Pau. “I beg your pardon?”

“The one for whom you harbor affection?”

T’Pol lifted her chin as realization dawned. “The mind meld,” she stated. “Minister----.”

T’Pau held up a placating hand. “I did not intend to see your private thoughts, T’Pol. My intention was only to heal you of the Pa’naars. But I could sense that there was someone you cherished above all others; your concern for his well-being radiated throughout your mind.” She turned her gaze back to the engineer. “At first I thought it was your captain, but though your affections for Archer were apparent, they were not as deep as what I felt from you for this other human. The pieces fell into place with the news of your daughter. I knew then that it was Commander Tucker.”

“Why didn’t you ask me about him?”

“As the humans are fond of saying, it was---none of my business.”

T’Pol looked down at the floor. “I didn’t intend for it to happen,” she said quietly.

“There is no need to feel---uncomfortable, T’Pol.”

“But he is human.”

“Yes, he is.”

“Then you disapprove?”

“What I think has no bearing on this matter. Like your mother, I only want what gives you contentment.”

“My mother did not approve,” said T’Pol evenly.

“She did not disapprove.”

T’Pol looked up and once again met T’Pau’s wise eyes.

“Why do you think she chose to hide the map of the Forge within the IDIC?” continued the younger woman, her tone almost light. “Infinite diversity in infinite combination.” T’Pau paused a moment. “T’Les did not inform me of your human’s identity, but I did feel that she had a sort of grudging admiration for him. She regretted that she could not tell you herself. Admitting that one’s child is more enlightened than oneself is not easy, especially if one is Vulcan.”

T’Pol swallowed against the emotions that threatened to reveal themselves. “I didn’t know.”

“And now that you do?”

The first officer looked through the glass at Trip. “I don’t think it matters anymore, Minister. I fear I have pushed him away once too often.”

“Do you want him, T’Pol?”

“Yes, but he may not want me.”

“The only way you can know that for certain is if you ask him.”

T’Pol gazed down upon the peaceful face that she’d come to cherish so much and felt the familiar fear settle over her yet again. “If only it was that simple.”

“I believe it is indeed just that simple.”

“There are things he doesn’t know, Minister, things that have brought me shame.”

“Those---things of which you speak have brought you to this point in time. You cannot change them, only accept them and embrace them as a part of who you are. Regret is a very powerful emotion, T’Pol, as is fear. Do not succumb to them or you will lose your chance to have what you truly desire.”

“You speak of emotion freely, Minister.”

“Emotion is at the core of every Vulcan, T’Pol.”

“I know.” T’Pol felt a warm hand touch her shoulder briefly and she turned to meet T’Pau’s understanding eyes. The younger woman nodded once, tucked her hands into her sleeves then quietly walked away down the corridor, her dark robes billowing slightly around her.

Finding herself alone once more, T’Pol silently moved to the doorway and slipped into the darkened medical suite. She moved to Trip’s bedside and heard a small sigh escape between his slightly parted lips. After struggling for hours with the burden of pain the Romulans had inflicted upon him, the commander was finally at peace; his brow no longer creased, his facial muscles finally relaxed and his pallor almost normal. Dr. Taalok had been able to identify the mysterious toxin almost immediately so treatment had begun only hours after their arrival on Vulcan.

“Minister T’Pau is right, child.”

T’Pol swung around quickly at the sound of the soft voice behind her. “Who’s there?” she asked as her eyes adjusted to the shadowy corner.

“My name isn’t important.”

T’Pol saw the diminutive figure shift slightly and blue skin caught in the dim lighting. “You are Andorian.”

“Yes.”

“How did you get in here?”

“That’s not important. I’ve come to tell you that he will remember.”

T’Pol reached toward the comm. unit on the wall above Trip’s bed.

“There’s no need for security,” said the woman. “I won’t be here long.”

T’Pol turned her head toward the shadows. “What do you want?”

The Andorian sighed impatiently. “He will remember,” she said again.

“Remember?”

“What they did to him. The memories will come back in his dreams.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“So that you can help him.”

T’Pol squinted her eyes. “You’re Briel, the woman who visited Commander Shran.”

“I am.”

“Why are you here?”

Briel sighed again, this time in irritation. “I’d forgotten how trying it is dealing with you Vulcans,” she said. “I’ve already told you why I’m here---twice and quite clearly, I believe.”

T’Pol steeled her jaw. “You are being intentionally elusive.”

“Intentionally elusive?” repeated Briel then she chuckled. “Are you being intentionally obtuse? What is it about ‘he will remember’ that you don’t understand?”

“I understand you perfectly.”

“Good, I’m glad we’ve cleared that up.”

“I was under the impression that Temporal Agents, something you claim to be, only get involved when someone tampers with the timeline.”

“That’s correct,” replied Briel. “Nice to know you can look beyond your standard ‘the Vulcan High Command has determined time travel’----blather.”

“You are quite odd.”

The Andorian snorted in amusement. “Thank you and you are quite---Vulcan.” She snorted again. “You’d be odd, too, if you’d spent as many years as I have watching time moving forwards and backwards and sideways and---.”

“Why are you here?” interrupted T’Pol.

“Oh, I see what you’re after now,” replied Briel. “How does Commander Tucker’s memory impact the timeline? You should have just come out and asked me.”

T’Pol held back an impatient sigh. “I am asking now.”

“It really doesn’t. I’m just doing you a favor.”

“A favor,” repeated T’Pol flatly. “You are doing ME a favor.”

“Seems kind of strange, doesn’t it.”

“That is an understatement.”

Briel chuckled lightly. “Who said Vulcans don’t have a sense of humor?” She paused briefly. “I am a very old woman, child and let’s just say a romantic at heart. My time as an agent is drawing to a close, I’ve completed my task. The timeline has been adjusted. Vosk and his people really messed things up with his little jaunt back to Earth’s World War II, but all has been put right now. Shran’s life is back on the right track---talk about obtuse---and now I just want a happy ending for you and Commander Tucker.”

“A happy ending.”

“Yeah, you’ve got quite a love story going.”

“My relationship with the commander will impact the universe?”

Briel chortled. “Delusions of grandeur anyone?”

T’Pol bit back her retort with great effort.

“Commander Tucker’s untimely death in six years would have impacted the universe greatly,” continued Briel. “Whether or not you two ever get together isn’t that important in the grand scheme of things. The major events that must occur are now set to occur even if you two don’t get your acts together. It’ll just be---frosting on the cake.”

“Icing,” clarified T’Pol. “I believe the saying is ‘icing on the cake’.”

“Oh. Frosting, icing-----you get the gist.”

“Commander Shran told me he saw Trip’s death.”

“A tragic and stupid death,” stated Briel, her tone surprisingly soft. “I like the boy and believe me when I say his death would’ve wreaked havoc with Starfleet, not to mention with Captain Archer and his other friends and family----and especially with you.”

“I believe that.”

“Your happy ending is within your grasp, T’Pol. Right there for the taking.” Briel’s hand appeared from the shadows, her crooked index finger pointing to Trip’s supine form. “All you have to do is hold onto him.” The hand disappeared again. “I know you’re afraid.”

T’Pol lifted her chin. “Vulcans don’t experience---.”

“Utter blather,” replied Briel with a snort. “You’re afraid and you know it. I won’t promise you anything---the future is always shifting after all---but I will tell you it will be worth it if you swallow your fear and simply take the chance.”

T’Pol shifted her gaze from the shadowy figure to Trip. Looking down at him, she knew that Briel was right. She had to take a chance on him, on them. Regardless of what happened, she knew with sudden certainty that she would never allow him to leave her side again. Whatever he faced in his future, she would face it with him.

Trip moaned lowly and turned his head back and forth fitfully on the pillow. His hands twitched and flexed where they lay at his sides. The memories, T’Pol thought. He was remembering.

She turned back to the shadowy corner and found it empty.

&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&

“If you need anything, Trip, anything at all, just ask, okay?”

Trip settled back into his bunk then smiled up at his captain. “Aye, sir.”

“I mean it,” insisted Archer. He pulled the light sheet up to cover the engineer. “Anything at all, day or night.”

“Cap’n---.”

“I still think you should have stayed in sickbay, Trip. Even Dr. Taalok said you needed rest.”

Trip sighed. “I can rest here in my quarters easier than I can rest in sickbay.”

Archer looked uncertain and Trip realized not for the first time how well his friend knew him. Trip was slipping into a very dark and lonely place and Archer was extending his hand for the engineer to grab onto to stop his slide. As much as he wanted to feel that strong, solid grip, Trip just wasn’t ready to reach for it yet.

“I’m fine, sir. Really, just a little weak is all.”

“I just don’t think you should be alone right now. You’ve been to hell and back, Trip.”

“Cap’n,” said Trip in exasperation.

Archer sighed in resignation. “All right, all right. But you call me if you need anything---.”

“Day or night, I got it.”

The captain reached down and patted Trip’s leg affectionately. “Get some sleep then.”

“Aye, sir.”

Archer smiled and held Trip’s eyes for a long moment. Then he pursed his lips, shook his head and walked to the door. He hit the button then stepped back quickly. Trip looked down to the foot of his bunk to see T’Pol step into the room. Archer greeted his first officer then threw Trip an uncertain glance.

“Thanks for everything, Cap’n,” said the engineer. “I’ll be fine.”

“Good night, Trip---T’Pol.”

Archer left and the silence in the room suddenly felt too heavy for Trip to endure. T’Pol moved around the foot of the bunk to stand at its side. She looked down at Trip, her dark eyes shadowed.

“Is there something you wanted, T’Pol?”

“I wanted to make certain you were all right.”

“Well, as you can see, I’m doing fine, thanks to Dr. Taalok.”

Silence fell between the two officers again and Trip shifted uncomfortably.

T’Pol sat down hesitantly on the edge of the bunk. “Trip, I-----,” she began.

The engineer rolled onto his side, his face to the bulkhead; looking at her was just too painful. “I’m sorry, T’Pol, but I can’t do this anymore,” he said softly. “It hurts too damned much.”

“Should I get Dr. Phlox?”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean. I mean I can’t do this---you and me.”

“I---I do not understand.”

Trip knotted his hands in his sheets and closed his eyes. “I’m tired, T’Pol. Tired of getting my hopes up only to have them dashed again. I’m just----tired. I can’t do it anymore. I love you, I want a life with you, but I know you don’t feel the same and it’s okay---really it is. I’m just---tired, that’s all.”

“I see.”

“I’m sorry,” Trip whispered. He felt T’Pol rise from his bunk, heard her move slowly to his door. His heart shattered in his chest as he heard the door hiss open then close again. He gripped the sheets tighter and willed the tears away. She was gone. He couldn’t be what she needed him to be even though he’d tried so hard. In the end, he’d failed her.

“Trip?”

The engineer started and rolled onto his back opening his eyes to stare in disbelief at T’Pol who stood at the foot of his bunk.

“May I stay?”

“T’Pol----please. I can’t---.”

“Do you trust me, Trip?”

“What? Of course I do----always. T’Pol, that won’t ever change.”

T’Pol moved to the side of the bunk. “I want to---share something with you, but you have to trust that I will not harm you. Can you do that?”

Trip nodded then watched as T’Pol sat down at his side again. She slowly raised her hands and moved them toward his face, her fingers extended. He realized instantly what she was going to do; he’d seen Soval perform a meld on a dying crewman all those weeks ago. He couldn’t help himself and he drew back slightly, remembering how the ambassador had searched the crewman’s mind for information on the death of Admiral Forrest.

“You have my word I will not harm you,” T’Pol assured him gently.

The engineer smiled weakly. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me, T’Pol, it’s just that---well---you might not like what you find lurking around up there.”

T’Pol lifted a brow in confusion then understanding warmed her eyes. “I will not be entering your mind, Trip, but allowing you access to mine.”

Trip’s smile faded. “What? You’d do that?”

T’Pol nodded. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I need you to understand.”

“You don’t have to do this, T’Pol,” insisted Trip gently.

“It is my choice.”

Trip regarded the woman sitting at his side. He could see she was certain of her decision, could see how important it was for her to do this for him. He nodded his assent then watched as she moved her hands to his face and pressed her fingertips carefully against his skin. His eyes closed of their own volition as he heard T’Pol’s soft voice chanting gentle words.

Then his eyes flew open and he was looking into a mirror. The face that stared back at him was not his own, though, but the face of a little Vulcan girl.

T’Pol.

Trip watched as tiny hands came up to adjust the brown hair that framed the delicate face. He felt himself smile; he’d always wanted to see T’Pol as a child. He heard T’Les’ voice calling for her daughter then heard that same voice reprimanding T’Pol lightly for her display of vanity.

Then Trip found himself outside on Vulcan gazing up at the stars through T’Pol’s wondrous eyes. He heard a soft warm male voice in his ear, telling T’Pol it was all right to experience wonder and awe at the universe and Trip knew with certainty that the voice belonged to her father. He felt T’Pol’s love for the man radiating through his body and he again had to smile.

Trip heard that same voice speaking in defense of his daughter as T’Pol eavesdropped on a conversation between her parents and a school official. He felt the pride when both parents steadily disagreed that their child was too emotional, that she needed to have special training to allow her to better control her feelings. He felt T’Pol’s steely determination to make her parents proud by overcoming her lack of discipline.

Trip saw her father’s memorial service, felt the devastating sadness T’Pol had felt, heard her mother’s soothing words telling her it was okay to shed tears for her father, but only with her and no one else.

T’Pol showed him everything, allowed him to feel everything she felt from her childhood through her years as a young adult as Soval’s protégé.

Then they were on Enterprise and Trip immediately recognized their first meeting. He was surprised to discover T’Pol’s curiosity in him, her odd mixture of attraction and repulsion, her worry when he was missing or injured or upset. She had cared for him from the beginning.

T’Pol’s view of her world became distorted when they’d entered the Expanse. Trip could sense her confusion and her feelings of not knowing who or what she was. He wanted to take her in his arms to comfort her, but his physical body would not react. Instead he tried to convey his support through his thoughts and felt T’Pol’s surprise that he could do that.

He saw and felt her overwhelming need for the Trellium-D. She was deeply ashamed so he offered her his support through his mind again as her memories continued to wash over him.

As he watched and experienced all the events he too had experienced in the Expanse but through T’Pol’s eyes, he realized that her feelings for him had deepened into much more than friendship fairly early on. He felt how confused those feelings had made her, and how she’d tried so hard to suppress them even though she’d craved them, felt how much they’d scared her.

He felt her jealousy at his flirtation with Amanda Cole, shivered at its strength and its primal quality and he saw the night they made love. The term was his but the feelings were hers. She had enjoyed their night together, but their emotional intimacy had frightened her. Trip could sense her turmoil as he watched himself dress and leave her quarters when the intruder alert had sounded, could feel her realization that she’d lost control because of the Trellium-D. She’d waged an internal battle he had never known existed. He felt his own shame and regret well up inside of him; if he’d known, he would’ve done things so differently.

T’Pol’s memories continued to unfold, all her feelings exposed to him. She hid nothing and when he finally saw her gazing down upon his sleeping form in the Vulcan medical suite just that morning he knew that she loved him just as much as he loved her. He understood why she had pushed him away, understood the inner battle she fought every single day and he couldn’t help but feel petty and childish at his behavior.

Then he found himself in their white room. T’Pol was facing him but her eyes were downcast. Trip reached out and lifted her chin with his index finger then leaned forward to press his lips very gently to hers. “You love me,” he said softly against her mouth and he felt her response warm him. He suddenly knew what he had to do, needed to do, and he opened his mind to her.

&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&

T’Pol could feel her lips tremble against Trip’s as a sudden rush of warmth and affection permeated her body. She found herself viewing his world as a little boy running after his screaming sister, a snake held firmly in his small hand. She had met his clone as a child so his appearance was not a surprise, but what was a surprise was Trip’s unfettered love of life. Where Sim had been somewhat reserved, Trip had been a force with which to be reckoned. He ran and jumped and played with such joy, with such reckless abandon, it overwhelmed her. He was the definition of kinetic energy.

Trip was showing her his life, all the good, the bad, and what he deemed to be the embarrassing. She felt his joy at living, his curiosity at the stars above his head, his determination to make something of himself. She felt his blossoming intelligence, how his mind approached and solved problems that others found impossible. She saw his loving family who never pushed him even though his professors had told them to. She felt his awkward teen years when he felt shy and uncertain, feelings that somehow still radiated through his being even as the man whose thoughts she currently shared.

She sensed Trip’s internal struggle when Starfleet recruited him during his junior year in college. She felt his excitement at being sought after and at being able to begin his dreams, but also his trepidation at leaving college without completing his education. She watched through his eyes as he promised his parents that he would one day attain his degree then watched as they hugged him with pride on their faces.

She saw his first meeting with Jonathan Archer and the bond of friendship and brotherhood he’d formed immediately with the older man. Trip loved his captain, his friend, and his loyalty toward and trust in Archer was unshakable.

T’Pol felt Trip’s crushing pain at his sister’s death then again at their daughter’s death. He had needed her and a sense of deep shame roiled through T’Pol at his stark memories. Trip’s mouth still firmly pressed against hers assured her that he understood and that he needed her to know that.

She felt how deeply he loved and how deeply he hurt, and it startled her.

Then there was sudden darkness and a physical pain that was so deep and real, it took T’Pol’s breath away. She felt Trip’s fierce determination not to answer his torturer’s questions like a live thing in her mind. She felt his fear, cold and dark. He had fought a constant battle against his own mind and body not to submit to the Romulan and had prevailed, yet his anguish remained like splintered glass strewn across a floor on which he still had to walk.

T’Pol saw her back as she’d left him in sickbay, felt his sense of loss and abandonment when he’d thought she’d just walked away. He’d thought she didn’t care and T’Pol again felt shame at her fear. Trip infused her again with his forgiveness and his understanding.

Through it all, through all the pain, anger and confusion she had caused him, T’Pol realized there was always a constant; he loved her.

Trip’s hands began moving over her in their white room. His chaste kiss deepened and she parted her lips for him. He kissed her deeply, languorously, his breath gusting warm against her cheek, and T’Pol allowed herself to fall even further into him. She felt his fingers at the back of her uniform, carefully unhooking the top clasp.

She pulled back and gazed up at him. “There will be time for that when you are healed,” she said, hearing the huskiness of her voice in her mind. She wanted him, needed to be one with him physically as she was currently one with him mentally and emotionally, but she knew he was not ready. “There will be time, Trip.”

Trip smiled, his eyes holding her as if she was the most precious thing to him in his world. “Promise?”

“Yes.”

The engineer leaned forward to kiss her again and T’Pol felt his need for her rush through her mind even as she felt his soft lips meeting hers. She was so tempted to relinquish her control to him, concede to his desires and her own, but his exhaustion was there, hovering in the background, his whole being aching from the trauma he’d endured.

T’Pol pulled away from Trip’s mouth. “You must rest,” she urged softly. “You are not well.”

Trip’s expression conveyed clearly the frustration T’Pol felt through their meld. She couldn’t help the wave of amusement that moved through her as she watched the man before her pout like a child in response.

“You know I am correct, Trip.”

The commander tucked his tongue in the side of his mouth and regarded T’Pol through narrowed eyes.

She moved to kiss him lightly and he leaned in for more than she was willing to give. “Commander,” she reprimanded against his needy mouth. “The sooner you recover your strength, the sooner we will be able to reinitiate our physical intimacy.”

Trip sighed in exasperation then nodded in reluctant agreement. T’Pol settled her mind, her thoughts carefully embracing him, holding him gently as she soothed him. Her fingers caressed his face and she watched as his eyes grew heavy then finally slipped closed. She brushed her fingertips across his soft lashes then drew them down his cheeks and across his lips. He sighed, leaning into her as his legs grew weary of holding his weight.

Slowly and reluctantly, T’Pol pulled out of Trip’s mind, leaving his warmth and comfort behind. He rolled onto his side in his bunk facing her, his eyes closed, and exhaled a long contented breath. T’Pol sat quietly at his side and gently brushed her fingers back through his hair coaxing the engineer toward sleep.

She had done it. She had opened her heart and soul to him, bared herself to him, and he had accepted her without condemnation. He had witnessed it all, had felt it all, and he had not forsaken her. Though he had not understood her reasons, he had not judged her actions in the Expanse, had not offered her pity, but had offered her only his unyielding support.

Then he had surprised her by opening his own heart and soul to her. She had not thought that possible, but the strength of their bond had allowed it. She had seen him, experienced him, as he had moved through his life. He had bared himself to her just as she had done for him and even though she had not thought it conceivable, T’Pol cherished him even more for it.

Carefully, T’Pol stood, removed her shoes then slipped beneath the sheet that covered Trip. He opened his eyes with great effort and smiled warmly at her. “You know, I think I could probably handle a little making out if you want.”

“Making out,” T’Pol repeated flatly.

Trip blinked sleepily a few times. “Yeah, fooling around, necking----. It’ll help me relax.”

T’Pol arched one brow. “You already appear to be quite relaxed.”

Trip slipped a hand from under the sheet and took one of T’Pol’s. He pulled it to him and kissed the palm then the wrist.

“Trip,” admonished the first officer lightly.

The engineer leaned forward to touch his lips gently to T’Pol’s. The intimate contact seemed to awaken him and he pressed harder, his mouth needing more, much more. T’Pol’s body waged a battle with her mind. Trip needed to rest, to sleep, she knew that, but his talented mouth was quickly awakening desires she found quite hard to suppress.

Body won out over mind and she responded to Trip with a passion that equaled his own. He reached out and wrapped her in his arms then rolled settling her on top of him. Her hands came up to cup his precious face, her mouth matching his every move in heated harmony. She marveled at his ability to kiss, to convey all his desire and need for her with only his mouth.

They broke apart when air became a necessity.

“Is this helping you to relax?” asked T’Pol, her hands still cupping Trip’s face, her mouth hovering within millimeters of his.

“Oh, yeah,” Trip replied breathlessly. He opened his eyes to look up at her then they widened suddenly as they focused just over her shoulder. “What the hell?”

“Oh, don’t let me interrupt you.”

T’Pol turned her head quickly at the familiar voice to see an elderly Andorian woman sitting in Trip’s desk chair. She had what T’Pol had long ago decided was what human’s referred to as a goofy grin on her wrinkled blue countenance.

Trip moved a hand quickly to the wall comm. beside his bunk, but T’Pol grabbed it, staying him from pushing the button.

“T’Pol,” hissed the engineer.

“I believe I know her.”

“You know her?”

T’Pol turned to look back at the old woman. “You are Briel, are you not?”

Briel winked. “You’re a smart one, aren’t you?”

“What the hell is going on here?” demanded Trip.

T’Pol pushed herself off the engineer and sat up. Trip sat up next to her, taking care to keep the sheet pulled up to cover his bare torso.

“Continue, continue,” urged the Andorian motioning with her hands at them. “Things were just getting good.”

“What are you doing here?” asked T’Pol.

“And how did you get on board?” added Trip suspiciously.

“Oh, I’m really not supposed to just---appear like this, but what are they going to do, ask me to retire? Our rules state that we must make as normal an arrival as possible, but with you two, I thought it might be far more exciting to arrive this way and I’m happy to say I was right.” Briel chuckled and shook her head, clearly amused by herself.

“T’Pol,” whispered Trip. “Who is this woman?”

“Her name is Briel. She claims to be a Temporal Agent.”

“Shran’s Briel? How do you know her?”

“She appeared to me in your medical suite.”

Briel waved her hands at them to draw their attention. “Hello, sitting right over here.” She stood, her body hunched with age and moved slowly to the bunk. She sat down, situating herself comfortably between Trip and T’Pol.

“Um, excuse me,” huffed Trip. He pulled the sheet up a bit closer to his shoulders.

Briel patted his leg kindly. “I’m very pleased to meet you again, my boy, and you’re coherent this time.”

“Coherent---wha--?” Trip stumbled then he stopped, his eyes widening. “You were there.”

Briel smiled and nodded.

“Trip?”

The engineer’s eyes remained fixed on the Andorian. “She visited me when I was----held captive,” he replied. “I thought I was imagining it or that it was a trick to get me to let my guard down. But it wasn’t.”

“No,” said the woman kindly. “Yet another rule in a very long list of rules I’ve broken because I’m a very old sap.”

“Thank you,” said Trip, his voice a mere whisper.

Briel patted his leg again. “You’re welcome, my boy.”

“Trip, she was the one who convinced Shran to give you to the Romulans,” interjected T’Pol. “Thanking her is highly illogical and inappropriate.”

“Oh.”

“I am quite sorry about that, Trip. Sometimes this temporal business is just a real bitch.”

T’Pol looked at the engineer to see a perplexed yet amused expression cross his face.

Briel patted Trip’s leg again and gazed at him with adoring eyes. “Oh, if only I was a few years younger,” she said wistfully. “We could have showed everyone a thing or two about interspecies relations, now couldn’t we?”

Trip smiled and T’Pol noted that the tips of his ears had turned a dark shade of pink. His reaction was fascinating to her. The woman beside him had almost condemned him to a slow and painful death, yet he quite obviously had dismissed any ill feelings he held toward her. In fact, he seemed quite embarrassed at her fawning.

“How are you feeling, by the way?” continued the Andorian kindly.

Trip cleared his throat. “Better, I’m feeling better.”

“Good to hear, but then I already know you’ll recover----with a little help from T’Pol here.”

“Ah, ah,” said Trip lifting his hand to stop her from continuing. “Not a word about the future, okay?”

Briel looked at the engineer askance. “Don’t you want to know how it all turns out for you and T’Pol? Or should I say, how it more than likely will turn out barring any unforeseen complications like Shran’s little detour into piracy?”

Trip shook his head firmly. “I already know all I need to know,” he replied then his eyes met T’Pol’s. “I love her and that’s never going to change.”

Briel’s white eyebrows rose to her hairline. “What about you, child?” she asked as she turned her gaze to the Vulcan. “Do you want to know?”

T’Pol held Trip’s eyes steadily. “I also require no knowledge of the future. I believe whatever obstacles we meet, we will move past them---together.”

Briel cleared her throat. “Like you moved past this one?”

“Yes.”

“Um, if I remember correctly, I helped out a little bit here.”

“How?” asked T’Pol as her eyes moved to Briel’s.

“Excuse me? How? Wasn’t it me who gave you a firm push in the right direction, child?”

“I’m certain there was no pushing involved.”

Briel rolled her eyes. “Vulcans,” she mumbled. “I know there was no physical pushing. I’m talking about the advice I gave you.” She raised her index finger at T’Pol. “Brilliant advice, I might add.”

“I remember no such advice.”

The Andorian sighed dramatically. “I give up.” She rose from her seat on the bunk. “You two kids get back to what you were doing.”

T’Pol looked at Trip to see him smiling knowingly at her. She was once again reminded of how well he knew her; he knew she’d been teasing the elder woman. T’Pol considered that thought briefly, realizing that the comment Archer had made after dealing with the Orions might indeed be accurate. She did seem to be picking up Trip’s bad habits. She lifted a brow; that wasn’t necessarily a negative thing.

Briel turned around and reached out a hand to gently place it on Trip’s cheek. The commander’s gaze moved to the old woman. He placed his own hand over hers and smiled at her.

“I am sorry, my boy,” the Andorian said softly. “I know you don’t want to hear anything about your future, but please hear this. You will recover from your ordeal, but only if you rely on your friends and on T’Pol. Don’t shut them out.”

Trip nodded, his brow creased slightly.

“Good boy.” Briel held Trip’s eyes, her thumb brushing back and forth over his cheek affectionately. “Take care, you two. I won’t be seeing you again, but you will be in my thoughts.”

“Where are you going?” asked T’Pol.

Briel shrugged. “I think I’ll go back to the future of Andoria, to a quieter time.” She smiled. “Believe it or not, there will be quieter times on my fair planet.”

“Goodbye, Briel.”

“Goodbye, dear boy. Take care of yourself and your lovely mate.”

“Thank you,” offered T’Pol.

The Andorian looked kindly at her then removed her hand from Trip’s cheek and patted the top of T’Pol’s head. “Thank you, child. Take care of him, okay? He is worth all the struggle.”

“Hey!” chimed in Trip indignantly.

“He is,” replied T’Pol with a nod. She watched as Briel moved to the door and opened it. The woman glanced at them once more then stepped outside, the door hissing closed behind her. T’Pol then turned her eyes back to the man who sat so close to her side. He looked tired, the starlight coming in through his portal gently illuminating his pale face. “Are you well?”

Trip started slightly. “Yeah,” he replied. “I hope she’ll be okay.”

“As displeased as I am that she sacrificed you to the Romulans, I too am concerned for her well-being. I find that quite curious.”

“Why? You’re a compassionate woman, T’Pol. Why does it surprise you to feel that way?”

“You could have died, Trip.”

“But I didn’t and Briel only did what she had to do to set things right, so did Shran.”

T’Pol pondered the words for a long moment. “You have always been quick to forgive.”

Trip smiled. “My mama always told me not to hold a grudge. She said it wasted too much energy that I could put elsewhere.”

“From what I’ve seen of your past, you had far too much energy for your own good.”

The engineer chuckled. “What I wouldn’t give for some of that energy right now.”

“You need to sleep, Trip.”

“I think you’re right. Will you stay the night with me?”

T’Pol eyed the commander suspiciously.

Trip raised his hands in a defensive gesture. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman, I promise.”

“Very well.”

Trip lowered himself back down onto the bunk then flipped the light sheet aside in invitation to T’Pol. She stood from the bed and carefully removed her uniform then slid in next to Trip. He covered them both then rolled onto his side to face her. T’Pol rolled as well so that she could gaze into his face, her head sharing the pillow with his. He leaned in and kissed her gently, his fingers lightly brushing through her hair. She felt a tingle flow through her at his touch and returned his kiss with tender passion.

He pulled away rather reluctantly and smiled at her sleepily. “See? A perfect gentleman.”

“Sleep, T’hyla.”

Trip settled and his eyes slowly slid closed. T’Pol gazed at the face lying so close to hers. She brought her hand up and rested it in front of her face, feeling Trip’s steady breathing gusting warmly across it’s back. He was sinking into sleep, sleep that his healing body and mind desperately needed. She watched an eyebrow twitch then his pleasingly sloped nose wrinkle momentarily and she felt affection warm her relaxing body.

“Trip?”

The engineer grunted in response.

“You are worth the struggle,” T’Pol said softly.

His eyes still closed, the engineer reached up from under the sheet and grasped T’Pol’s hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze, then wrapped his long fingers around it and tucked it under his chin. He expelled a long contented sigh and nestled further into the pillow.

T’Pol watched him sleep for a long while as night settled over Enterprise then she reached out through their bond and wrapped Trip’s essence over and around her like a warm, beloved blanket. She closed her own eyes and slipped away to stand guard over his dreams.

&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&

EPILOGUE – SIX YEARS LATER

&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&

When Jonathan Archer was nervous, he paced. Hell, he thought with wry amusement, pacing to him had become as natural as breathing. He always paced, nervous or not.

“Here, hold still.”

The captain stopped and looked up to see Trip standing directly in front of him. The engineer smiled and reached up to button the top of Jon’s dress uniform.

“Thanks,” said Jon somewhat sheepishly. He cast his eyes briefly to the padd he held in his sweating hand then shook his head at Trip.

“You’ve had days to write that speech, Cap’n,” chided Trip good-naturedly. “But you had to wait until the last minute.”

Jon pursed his lips. “Maybe I shouldn’t have chosen to ‘cram’ the night before the biggest speech of my life, eh?”

“Captain,” chimed in T’Pol. “You will be fine.”

“I don’t like giving speeches,” lamented the captain. “Why do I have to be the one to give it?”

“Because you’re the one who made this charter happen,” replied Phlox cheerfully. “You’re the one these people want to see.”

Jon shook his head. “We all made this charter happen, Phlox. Not just me.”

Trip chuckled, his eyes focused suddenly on his feet.

“What’s so funny, Commander?” asked Jon with mock irritation. He lifted his chin and glanced down his nose at his amused friend.

“Nothing, Cap’n,” replied Trip. He looked up and met Jon’s eyes. “I’ve known you for nearly twenty years and you just never change.”

Jon smiled and patted his friend on the arm then gave it a gentle, affectionate squeeze. He turned at the sound of applause and knew suddenly his time was up. He inhaled a deep breath then looked back at his three friends. They’d become the world to him over their years together and his heart suddenly swelled in his chest at the sight of them. T’Pol, standing so close to Trip, had brought Jon so much frustration, but she had also opened his eyes to the wonder that she was. She was brilliant, warm, and compassionate and she was his friend. She’d helped him to understand that Vulcans weren’t the horrible beings he’d thought they were as a young and angry child, but that they were the strongest of allies and a peaceful, caring species.

His eyes moved to Phlox, the man who had become Jon’s confidante. They hadn’t always agreed on issues, but they’d always respected the other’s rights to a differing opinion. The Denobulan had shown Jon understanding and wisdom beyond which Jon had never expected or thought possible upon their first meeting. He knew, whatever their futures held for them, he’d always keep in touch with the irrepressible physician and he knew that with unshakable certainty.

Finally, Jon looked at Trip, the man he’d known for nearly two decades, the man he considered family. A feeling of intense gratitude washed over the captain, one that he didn’t quite understand. He suddenly knew he was very blessed that his friend was standing in front of him at that very moment in time, knew that somehow he’d come very close to losing his dearest friend. He frowned and shook his head at the devastating thought.

“Cap’n? You okay?” asked Trip, a look of concern creasing his brow.

Jon smiled then stepped forward and embraced the younger man tightly.

“Cap’n?” said the engineer again as he returned the embrace somewhat hesitantly.

The captain broke the hug and leaned back, leaving his hands on Trip’s shoulders. He held the younger man’s eyes steadily then brought his hands up to gently cup the commander’s jaw line. “I’m fine, Trip, better than fine,” he replied warmly. “Just reminding myself how lucky I am.”

Trip flushed red at the odd display of affection, but grinned his all-too-familiar lopsided grin that Jon had come to treasure over their years of friendship.

The captain moved to T’Pol and embraced her, too. The startled Vulcan stood perfectly still, her arms remaining at her sides. He stepped back and looked at her with a smile. She dipped her head in acknowledgement of his gesture.

“Ah, Captain,” said Phlox as he suddenly enveloped Jon in his arms. “Denobulans don’t often initiate such intimate contact, but as Commander Tucker is so fond of saying---what the hell.”

Jon laughed and hugged the doctor back. “Uh, Phlox,” he said after a long moment. “I really need to get out there.”

“Oh, ah, of course,” replied the Denobulan. He pulled away and straightened Jon’s uniform. “Good luck, Captain.”

Jon turned and began his climb up the staircase that would lead him to the dais on which he’d give what he hoped was the speech of his life. He hesitated briefly and turned his head to look back at his three friends.

“You look---heroic,” offered T’Pol evenly.

The captain smiled. Phlox was wearing that wide strange grin across his face, looking very proud of his commanding officer. Trip and T’Pol, their eyes filled with pride as well, were standing so close together, touching yet not quite touching as they so often did. Somehow over the past six years, they’d managed to make their relationship work, overcoming whatever obstacles fate had tossed in their path, and their future was ahead of them and it looked very bright. Yes, Jon thought as he looked back to the stairs ahead of him and began his climb, he was indeed one very lucky man.

&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&

THE END

&&&&&&&&&& &&&&&&&&&&

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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

Very well done.

In yer face Daniels! Briel is a sooooooooo much better temperal agent...she knows whose important! And she's a romantic too! LOL

Great story plumtuckered! But why is Trip getting tortured in every fic I've read lately? Poor guy.

Homeric - that's what it is, Homeric.. Great resolution to the Fiasco. So heart-wrenching at first it was exhausting - Poor Trip - but Briel and T'Pol's exchange on Vulcan revived, “Are you being intentionally obtuse? What is it about ‘he will remember’ that you don’t understand?" - Briel is 180 degrees from Daniels, "Sometimes this temporal business is just a real bitch." -the bit about why Trip didn't finish his degree was a nice touch. Wonderful stuff, as always! -j

Beautiful fic. Very, very beautiful. And I like your Briel much better than Daniles.

This was a wonderful story. Briel is a marvelous creation. I'd love to see you write more fics where she sticks her nose in to fix things. How about one where she and TnT conspire to get Archer a woman now that Enterprise is decommissioned? That would be fun!

Love the way you mix a little humor in with the drama. It is just so classicly Star Trek. Great job!

Good story! I have a question, though. What did the Romulans get out of Trip? And since Trip is *not* a typical human due to the bond, did that bolster his resistance to the interrogation techniques?

And if the Romulans considered Trip to be "typical", did that give them a false impression? I mean, was that what Briel was up to? To make the Romulans more cautious?

Thank you plumtuckered for a proper finale story. I've always loved your stories and really enjoyed this one. Briel was certainly an interesting character. Thank you again.

Thank you one and all for the comments. I have to say the only reason this one made it to print was because I so enjoyed Briel. I'm glad you guys liked her, too. :-)

Binah, the only thing the Romulans got out of Trip was the fact that he led them to believe that humans were going to be a worthy foe. I guess I really didn't think through their use in the story very well. I wanted them in it just to foreshadow the Romulan War that was never mentioned in the finale.

And I'm not sure Trip gave them a false impression because humans are indeed pretty amazing, especially in the world of Trek, but I suppose because of the bond, he did give that impression in a roundabout way. And Briel's actions were not intended to assist the Romulans in any way, but to assist only the Andorians and the humans and ultimately, just to fix the timeline. Jiminy, I guess I didn't really think through the Romulans in this one, but I'm glad you enjoyed the fic anyway. :-)

Thank you all again!

yay! good job! i really liked the explaination of shran being the fix.

Brilliant fix, plumtuckered. I really loved the way you describe the tenderness b/w TnT -- you really hit just the right balance. And I too have become a Briel fan! Thank you for a finale we ALL could have appreciated.

Absolutely fantastic plumtuckered. A wonderful final. I loved every bit of it. Thank you.

ah what a satisfying add-on. i'm not quite sure what TATV is. But I really liked your ending to the show. Briel rocks. Her interactions with Shran, Jon, Trip, and T'Pol were awesome.

Well done... the sharing of their lives... nicely done.

Plumtuckered, that was fantastic.

I can tell how much love and effort you put into this, and it shines through every word. Thank you!

And, may I ask...was the reference to frosting a nod to a recent post on a certain BBS?

I like it very much! Good story!

Now there's the happy ending we should have had. So many talented fic writers out there, and Trek's finale is written by a pair of stupid buffoons. Thanks plumtuckered! I loved it! :)

Way cool ..... I loved how you just gave us a little bit of bait about TnT and then kept teasing. Briel is so much cooler than Daniels .. but that's a woman for ya! Hmmmmm this makes the future of our characters even better than my "fix" to the "cluster"!

Awesome story!! Really loved it!

Beautiful. Thank you.

Great job, Plumtuckered. Briel was wonderful! And you gotta love those happy endings. Ahhhh. :-)

I really enjoyed this one! Thanks. :)

if only the actual episode had been done like this, wonderful thank you for writing it

Plum I loved it the whole thing,, loved how TnT were struglin to grieve for Elizabeth and ended up just pushin each other way only to realise that was the last thing they should do,,, just loved the whole Mind meld sequence just beautiful,,,,, the Only thing that kinda makes me True Trek dork side pop out is the idea that the Rommies would just hand Trip back over,, they are an extreamly paranoid race, and as sone as they got the Lead Earth Engineer they would of headed back to Romulas and never looked back, and probably would of killed him in the end,, they are Rommies they have no Honor,,,, But dang that lil ol Blue lady was cool enough to make up for the Rommies misstake,,, maybe if ya made a sequal ;) durin the Rommie Wars you could explain that the reason they returned Trip,, was that the Rommies put like a bug in his head or somethin so they could get inside info on Starfleest,, that would give them a reason to return a human intact,,, and I totaly agree,, In Trek Humans totaly Rock, Klingons, Rommies,, Horny Vulcans, Borg None of them got anything on us humans,,,;) except T'pol of course. :)

Ah, Mitchell! Thank you for your helpful comment. I guess I should have had a True Trek Dork beta the story for me. :-) I am definitely not that great with Trek history or aliens. All I really know of Romulans is what we've learned on ENT. Next time, I'll put in the research.

Thank you again to everyone! And to T'Leela, that frosting/icing bit just seemed to fit. I'm not sure to what BBS or to what comment you're referring. But now I'm curious.... :-)

So far, you're tied with T'Leela for my favorite Finale Fix stories. I wish the "writers" (I use that word loosely) had put as much effort and heart as you obviously did. I really enjoyed it.
Thank you.

"Sometimes this temporal business is just a real bitch." LOL Couldn't have said it better myself. Well done! (Stands & Applauds) Very Well done!!

This was fabulous, Plumtuckered! Thank goodness for fanfic, TATV was such a disappointment but you have created a finale to end all finales that just does my shippy heart good. Loved it to pieces and thought your use of the original character Briel was a neat foot in the door to a viable and very cool solution. I really appreciate the way you utilised Shran and tied it in with his past actions so everything flowed beautifully. Thank you from the bottom of my little Trekkie heart, Ali D :~)

A great finale fix, and a darn good story too, with a happy ending to boot! Thank you, plumtuckered! I too have become a Briel fan -- I really hope to meet her again.

This was just great! I've always enjoyed your stories. Modifying Shran's story to fix the mess that is TATV is an inspired choice. Please keep writing.

Brilliant! Bravo!

Brilliant! Bravo!

Briel is a wonderfully original creation and I loved her wit. And for the most part I thought this was a damn good story. The only part I have any objection to is that one part where you mention Trip NOT finishing his post-secondary education!! Utter nonsense that one could rise through the ranks at Starfleet and be a college dropout.

That was beautiful! It's at the very top of my top-ten chart of favorite stories. Briel was wonderful and tongue-in-cheek, the polar opposite of Daniels, and the TnT angst brought tears to my eyes. But the very best part was the mind meld, not only because they finally realized their love for each other, but also because of the insight into their lives—I especially loved young T’Pol (up to and including her father’s death) and Trip chasing Lizzie with the snake (“He ran and jumped and played with such joy, with such reckless abandon, it overwhelmed her. He was the definition of kinetic energy.” LOL!). I also loved… Well, how about I just list the ten things I liked most about it (in no particular order):

1. Trip doesn’t die.
2. Young T’Pol
3. Young Trip
4. Briel
5. How you explained Trip’s dropping out of college. (Yeah. Like *that’d* ever happen.)
6. Trip doesn’t die!!!
7. TnT angst and romance--especially the mind meld.
8. How Trip kept trying to get T’Pol to give in--three times, I believe--and her telling him that he needed to get his strength back, first. LOL.
9. T’Pau’s frankness about Vulcan emotion--and about T’Pol’s desire and love for Trip.
10. TRIP DOESN’T DIE! Yay!

Anyway, beautiful story.


Live long and write sequels (please?),

Emily

I'm glad I read to the end, it just got better, and better, and better. Loved the epilogue. Difficult beginning though, with the toruture. I've noticed Trip spends alot of time in sick bay in fan fiction. But who am I to complain. In my story he was just dead. Thanks.

Ahhh. So much better. Apparently, time travel *can* be used for good. Nicely done.

The sequel please??? I really loved this story!!!

Outstanding job, plumtuckered, but then your work always is. I hope that you will write more!

I can't believe they had Trip die on TATV. They could've had anyone else die, but not Trip or T'Pol. Thanks for taking care of it. Your story was awesome!