Court and Spark - Chapter 3

Court and Spark

by Ragua

Rating:
Disclaimers in Chapter 1.

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Chapter 3

Sunlight filtered through the trees as T’Pol and her human companion strolled in the grove surrounding the house. Their destination today was the lake. It was a longer walk than their usual constitutionals, but Mrs. Tucker opined that her son would most likely be sleeping late this morning. T’Pol silently agreed with the human woman’s assessment. Her t'hai'la had nearly fallen asleep over dinner the night before--extremely uncharacteristic behavior, given his normal appetite.

T’Pol walked more than 20 meters before realizing she had used a Vulcan term of endearment. Her brain had conjured the word automatically, and it seemed so natural that she had nearly missed it. The young Vulcan pondered her subconscious mind’s choice of words. T’hai’la indicated great affection. It was used only for ones most intimate friends.

Or lovers.

Her pulse quickened slightly, and a pleasant flush warmed her body as she brought to mind their interlude the day before. Brief, to be sure, but quite stimulating nonetheless. T’Pol found herself looking forward to the day when Charles had recuperated enough to take up his duties as her mate.

Once again, the young Vulcan was brought up short by both the trend of her thoughts and the words her mind chose to express them. She recalled their one night together. Satisfying enough, but altogether too hurried for her liking. Anticipation led her to imagine an interlude during which they could take as much time as necessary. A sufficiently lengthy encounter, if T’Pol had any say in the matter. And she most certainly intended to have a say.

The young Vulcan’s reverie was interrupted by her companion.

"T’Pol, honey," Mrs. Tucker began, "I’ve been meaning to apologize for sticking my nose into your business yesterday."

Although T’Pol’s knowledge of human colloquialisms was extensive, the other woman’s comment confused her. She schooled her expression, hoping the human would continue. Luckily, she was not disappointed.

"You two are adults," Charles' mother acknowledged. “You can do whatever you want. I had no business suggesting otherwise." She paused a moment, shaking her head and grinning wryly. "It’s just hard to remember things like that when you’re dealing with your own children!"

Now T’Pol understood. For a brief instant, she wondered if Charles’ mother was telepathic, then dismissed the notion as illogical.

"Mrs. Tucker, please do not reproach yourself," the Vulcan responded. “You were entirely correct to remind us that Charles’ condition was less than optimal for our...activity. My behavior was quite irresponsible."

To her surprise, Mrs. Tucker laughed merrily.

"Irresponsible?! Sweetie, you two are young and in love. It’s completely natural for you to want to...um...enjoy each other’s company!"

T’Pol’s brow furrowed, while Mrs. Tucker continued to chuckle softly. She appreciated the human woman’s attempt to excuse her behavior, but the fact remained that she had allowed her emotions to overcome logic, and Charles might have come to harm as a result.

Wishing to explain her position, yet not offend her companion, T’Pol chose her next words carefully. "However natural our behavior," she began slowly, "it could have had a detrimental effect on Charles’ health. Our actions were...ill-advised."

Mrs. Tucker pulled one side of her mouth into an expression of controlled amusement. "Honey, you’re only--" But she stopped abruptly, shooting T’Pol a startled and guilty look. When the Vulcan raised an inquiring eyebrow, the older woman grimaced, but explained with resolute honesty, "I was about to say, "You’re only human." But of course that’s not so." She scowled, ashamed of her social blunder. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you like that."

T’Pol acknowledged that many Vulcans--most perhaps--would take offense from the human’s innocent faux pas. But T’Pol was touched, recognizing the slip for what it was. “I do not consider your mistake an insult," she consoled. "Your comment indicates that you do not consider me--" T’Pol searched for the correct word. "An outsider."

Her companion smiled gratefully. "Well, of course you’re not an outsider, T’Pol," she assured with gentle exasperation. "You’re family!"

The Vulcan felt a completely illogical glow of satisfaction. She nearly smiled at the sense of belonging, but managed to curb her reaction. “I am honored," she replied formally. Then, sensing that more was needed, she went on. "It is quite...agreeable...to be considered part of your family." She paused a moment. “I am, however, Vulcan. As such, I should not have allowed my feelings to overcome common sense. I will refrain from such behavior until Charles can reciprocate without endangering his health."

T’Pol cast a sideways glance to see how her words would be received. To her surprise, Mrs. Tucker’s face bore a strong resemblance to that of her son they day before, when he had been attempting to control his laughter. She raised an eyebrow at the human.

Noticing T’Pol’s regard, Mrs. Tucker reined in her expression as skillfully as any Vulcan. "That’s probably wise, honey," she agreed. Then her eyes twinkled irrepressibly. "Not much fun. But wise."

For the second time that day, T’Pol silently agreed the human’s assessment.

* * *

In the light of the late morning sun, the lake was as beautiful as Mrs. Tucker had promised. T’Pol, like most Vulcans no fan of water, found the glasslike quality of the still lake mesmerizing. Then a slight breeze stirred the surface, and the ripples generated a pattern that encouraged the viewer to seek its source. T’Pol did so for several moments, with no luck.

Her human companion seemed equally taken with the vista, but for other reasons, which became apparent when she spoke.

"We spent so many summers here," she murmured, smiling wistfully at the memory. She raised her eyes to one of the large trees at the edge of the water. "The kids always tied a rope to that tree and took turns swinging out into the water." She shook her head in nostalgic wonder. "You’d think that havin' the whole Atlantic Ocean as a playground the other nine months of the year would have made 'em look down on this place." Her eyes sought T’Pol’s. "But they loved it here. We all did." She turned her attention pensively back to the water.

The Vulcan wasn’t entirely sure, but she thought that the look in her companion’s eyes had not been one of happiness. T’Pol was puzzled for a moment. Mrs. Tucker’s words suggested that the memories were pleasant ones, yet the Vulcan was increasingly certain that she had caught a glimpse of a different emotion. She replayed the human’s words in her head, and a glimmer of understanding took shape.

All her children had loved this place. But all her children were no longer capable of visiting it or sharing the memories.

T’Pol shifted on her feet, unsure how to acknowledge or alleviate her companion’s pain. Her inexperience with emotions might lead her to compound the problem. It would be safer to say nothing, but it would also be cowardly. And insensitive, at least from a human perspective.

“Mrs. Tucker," T’Pol began hesitantly. When the older woman turned to look at her, the Vulcan went on. “I have long intended to offer you my condolences for the loss of your daughter, Elizabeth." The human flinched slightly, unprepared for the blunt statement. T’Pol took a deep breath and continued. "Her death greatly affected Charles. Even as a Vulcan, I can imagine how much worse it must have been for her parents."

Mrs. Tucker’s eyes glistened. T’Pol met her gaze for a moment and then, tentatively, reached out to touch the older woman gently on the shoulder. The human blinked, gave T’Pol a watery smile, and then returned her attention to the lake.

The Vulcan removed her hand slowly and turned her gaze to the water, as well. The women stood in silence for several moments. Finally, Mrs. Tucker spoke.

"Thank you."

T’Pol thought that her companion’s words indicated an end to the emotional encounter, but after a moment, Mrs. Tucker continued.

"Lizzie loved it here even more than the other kids, if that were possible," she reminisced. "Without their friends around, they weren’t so het up on being 'cool,' so they had no reason to leave her out of anything." She smiled at the memory. "It was just the four of æem, and you’d think having no outside influences would have kept æem out of trouble, but I swear, those hellions wreaked more havoc during summer vacation than they did the whole rest of the year combined!" The mother of said hellions shook her head in both censure and admiration.

The chance to learn more about human child-rearing piqued T’Pol’s interest. “I would enjoy learning about the ways in which they wreaked havoc," she stated. When Mrs. Tucker cast a startled look in her direction, the Vulcan backed off. "Unless, of course, it is inappropriate."

To her surprise, Mrs. Tucker laughed. "No, not at all, honey! It’s just...ö Her voice trailed off. "Since Lizzie died, no one wants to talk about her anymore." She frowned. "It’s bad enough she’s gone. But now it’s like they want to pretend she never existed!" Her frown turned to a scowl--a vivid expression of her frustration and anger.

T’Pol recalled how Charles had kept up exactly such a pretense for most of Enterprise’s mission in the Expanse. It had helped him to avoid the pain of his loss, but his eventual acceptance of her death and his grief over it, although heart-wrenching, had been far more healthy. Perhaps the avoidance that she had witnessed on Enterprise was far more complex than she first believed.

“It was very...difficult...for Charles to speak of his sister during our mission," the Vulcan offered. Mrs. Tucker looked up at her and nodded, seeming to regret her angry words.

"Charlie and Danny are the same," the human acknowledged. "Maybe that’s just how men deal with it. Jeannie and I speak about her every now and then, but she’s got so much going on with her own kids...ö Mrs. Tucker trailed off again, despondent.

T’Pol stepped forward. “I would very much enjoy hearing about your daughter," she assured. Mrs. Tucker looked up at her again, tears forming in her eyes, despite the smile that lit her face. She took the Vulcan’s hand and gently squeezed it.

"I’d love to tell you all about Lizzie," she whispered.

T’Pol squeezed her companion’s hand in return and nodded, allowing her own lips to turn up slightly at the corners.

* * *

A short hour later, T’Pol and Mrs. Tucker were in the family room, sitting knee to knee in overstuffed chairs, a photo album between them. The human was explaining each photo, much to T’Pol’s relief, as the images made little sense to her. When her companion had accused her own children of 'wreaking havoc,' the Vulcan had assumed that it was the usual hyperbole humans often employed. The visual record, however, seemed to suggest otherwise. As far as T’Pol could tell, none of the four Tucker children had ever been stationary at the same time, and most of their movement seemed calculated to ensure the maximum possible destruction.

Mrs. Tucker identified the current page as the pictures which chronicled her youngest daughter losing her first tooth. To T’Pol, however, the images indicated nothing but chaos. In one, an older girl--presumably Jean, the eldest Tucker child--was affixing a string to the knob of a door. Another showed two boys--a blond and a redhead--both attempting to stick their hands into the mouth of a tiny towheaded girl. Mrs. Tucker explained that the boys were attempting to tie the other end of the string to Lizzie's loose tooth.

The next several pictures were mostly blurry, but they conveyed a definite sense of teamwork, action, pain, and high spirits. The final images of the sequence showed the redheaded boy holding something on a string out of reach of the tiny girl. Though a small trickle of blood colored her lower lip, the miniscule child was gamely leaping for whatever her older brother was holding out of her reach--T’Pol assumed it was the just-pulled tooth. The two oldest children stood in the background, both with hands on hips and mouths open. The girl--Jean--wore a scolding expression, while the boy--Trip--was looking on in mischievous expectation.

The final picture explained her t'hai'la's expression. The little girl, obviously frustrated at her inability to reach the tooth, was tackling the redheaded boy. The oldest girl’s mouth had dropped in shock, but the blond boy’s head was thrown back in laughter. He had obviously known that his littlest sister would not put up with their brother’s behavior for long and was heartily enjoying her response.

A glance at Mrs. Tucker revealed a grin similar to one T’Pol often saw on another face. “Lizzie sure didn’t put up with any guff from the boys," she chortled. “Not that Trip gave her much grief. Those two were like peanut butter and jelly."

Before the Vulcan could ask for an explanation of the food analogy, Charles appeared in the doorway of the living room. For a moment, it seemed to T’Pol that the tousle-headed blond child from the photo album had stepped off one of the pages. Her t’hai’la’s hair stuck out in numerous directions, all of them in defiance of gravity. His face was creased with dents from a hard sleep on an uneven pillow, and his befuddled, droopy-eyed gaze bore more than a passing resemblance to the face in one of the earlier images chronicling an early morning family fishing trip.

He stood in the doorway for several moments, blinking like a slowly-waking child. Finally, after stifling a yawn, he managed a greeting of sorts.

"Hey," he mumbled, hobbling towards them. "Whatcha doin'?"

“I wished to learn more about your sister, Elizabeth," T’Pol explained. "To that end, your mother has been showing me images from your childhood."

All vestiges of sleepiness vanished instantly. His face jerked to awareness, and he shot a worried look at his mother. Mrs. Tucker, having returned her attention to the photo album after a cheery greeting, was oblivious to his concern. T’Pol, on the other hand, registered his apprehension and the fact that it altered his actions.

She had no doubt his original destination had been her side. Now--in a moment so brief it might have gone unnoticed had she not been so keenly focused on him--he changed his course so that his shambling gait took him past her chair to his mother’s. When Mrs. Tucker looked up at him with a tender smile, he returned it, settling gently on the arm of her chair. As he leaned over to look at the album, he placed his arm around her shoulders.

The gesture was so natural that it went unmentioned, yet T’Pol was touched by the depth of the feelings it revealed. Once again, the Vulcan was struck to her core by the compassion and sensitivity of humans in general, and of her own chosen human in particular. How could her people not recognize the value inherent in a species capable of such empathy? Not for the first time, T’Pol wondered if she were lacking some vital component that other Vulcans had in abundance. She shook her head slightly, attempting to refocus her attention.

"We just finished looking at the pictures of you kids yanking Lizzie’s first loose tooth," Mrs. Tucker was informing her son.

"That means the Great Tooth Fairy Ambush must be next," he exclaimed in delight.

Mrs. Tucker blanched. "Oh good Lord! I’d forgot all about that!" she gasped. “Well, T’Pol won’t want to see something like that," she concluded abruptly, attempting to turn several pages of the album at once.

Trip stuck his hand between the pages, effectively preventing the bowdlerization of Tucker family history. "Are you kiddin', Mom?" he cried, an impish grin lighting his features. “T’Pol would love to see that! It'd probably confirm all her worst fears about humans and their families!"

T’Pol leaned forward, curious. “I would be most interested in learning of this event," she assured Mrs. Tucker. “It sounds somewhat...violent."

Charles threw back his head, laughing. Once again, T’Pol was struck by how little he had changed from the child in the pictures. “You can say that again, T'Pol!” he assured her. He then launched into a long-winded explanation of an aspect of human folklore involving an imaginary sprite known as the Tooth Fairy. Apparently, when human children lost their baby teeth, it was customary to place the items beneath a pillow upon retiring for the night. While the child slept, the 'Tooth Fairy'--in actuality the child’s parents--would take the tooth and leave a coin in exchange.

Mrs. Tucker listened to her son’s lecture with a mixture of resignation and embarrassment. When he finally stopped for a breath, she jumped in. “The older kids told Lizzie that since she was so little, she’d be last on the Tooth Fairy’s agenda that night." Mrs. Tucker paused to glare at her son. "They convinced the poor thing that there probably wouldn’t be any money left to pay for her tooth. I swear, she was beside herself. Nothing her father and I said could make her feel better." Once again she glowered at her son, who attempted to take up the story despite his bouts of laughter.

"So Lizzie was determined to get something out of the Tooth Fairy, even if it wasn’t money. She figured that, just because she was little didn’t mean it was fair that she get shorted," Trip explained between chuckles.

"She had a real strong sense of what was right," Mrs. Tucker affirmed.

“Lizzie decided that she could probably take the Tooth Fairy in a fight, so she made a big convoluted plan to hijack all the other kids' teeth and hold æem for ransom," her son went on. “I guess she thought that’s the only way she’d get anything out of the ol' Tooth Fairy."

Mrs. Tucker obviously thought that her son was enjoying the tale far too much. She took over for him. “To make a long story short, when her father and I went in to her room to make the exchange, she pounced on us like some kind of demon from Hell." The older woman snorted at the memory. "Neither of us was expecting that, of course, so all three of us ended up makin' a lot of noise. Pretty soon, we’d waked the whole house."

Trip could scarcely breath from laughing, but he seemed determined to add his own color to the tale. “You...you shoulda seen--" He stopped to point at his mother while he caught his breath. "Mom, your hair was standing out all over...You looked like...like...ö He was unable to continue, so instead he pointed to the album. T’Pol, both appalled and intrigued by the macabre tale, leaned over to look.

The images that greeted her were certainly disconcerting. One showed a woman--obviously Mrs. Tucker at a much younger age--attempting to forcefully detach a tiny, blond waif from her head. The next several in the series were once again blurry and suggestive of anarchy. The final few showed the four Tucker children in various stages of emotional breakdown. Charles and his brother were both overcome with hysterical laughter: the pictures showed the boys on the ground, mouths open, holding their sides. Jean appeared horrorstruck, her face aghast, hands covering her mouth. Tiny Lizzie stood pugnaciously, clumps of hair in each fist, facing an equally irate Mrs. Tucker, from whose head the hair had obviously come. T’Pol surmised that Mr. Tucker had been ensconced safely behind the camera.

Mrs. Tucker was shaking her head at the pictures ruefully. “Lizzie certainly was a scrapper," she allowed. Then she turned to glare at her son yet again. “You damn kids ruined the Tooth Fairy for her!"

"Hey, we never told her to go ninja on you, Mom," Trip said, showing not a bit of remorse. “She did that all on her own!" He was obviously impressed by his little sister’s gumption.

"Humph!" his mother snorted. She rose from her chair. "I’m going to need some tea if I’m going to have to put up with your sass while T’Pol and I look at the rest of these pictures!" She turned to her Vulcan guest, her miffed expression morphing to one of polite inquiry. "Chamomile or mint for you, honey?"

“I would prefer chamomile, thank you, Mrs. Tucker,” T’Pol responded.

Casting one last baleful glare at her son, Mrs. Tucker stomped off to the kitchen. T’Pol peered after her cautiously.

“I believe you have angered your mother," she stated with some concern.

“Oh, she’ll be fine, T’Pol,” Charles assured her. “She talks loud, but she loves it when we tell that ol’ story." He glanced down at the photo album with a wry grin. "Looking at these pictures is good for her. It was good of you to ask about 'em." He raised his gaze to hers, his eyes glistening with emotion.

T’Pol inclined her head modestly. She refrained from commenting that reviewing the pictures appeared to have been good for him, as well. “I merely expressed a wish to learn more about your sister. Your mother suggested the photo albums as a likely source of information." She met his gaze again. “I often wondered at your obsession for photography," she admitted. "Now I feel that I understand somewhat, t'hai'la." She let the edges of her lips lift slightly.

Charles returned her smile. Then he cocked his head at her, clearly curious about the Vulcan word. Before he could ask, his mother returned.

"Look what I happened on while I was making the tea!" Mrs. Tucker held up her find, clearly delighted.

Charles gasped, causing T’Pol to turn to him in concern. He was gazing at the book his mother held with a look of utter horror on his face. “Mom, no!" he begged.

The human woman turned a downright evil grin on her son. “Oh, honey, you know T’Pol would want to see your baby book!"

As Mrs. Tucker flipped to the first page, revealing the image of a fat, naked, blond infant, her son sank his head into his hands and groaned.

Chapter 4

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A whole mess of folks have made comments

I've been waiting for this! That was hilarious! I can't wait for the next chapter. Trip's baby book, huh? That has to be embarrassing! LOL

You've got such a nice touch! Really enjoyable read. I like how you've maintained the very essence of T'Pol's Vulcan disposition and the way you've written Tucker's family is right on. Thanks for a great story! Can't wait to see what's next!

Oh god! My mom would love this chapter... she brings out the baby book every chance she gets! I think that's pretty much every childs worst nightmare! LOL

That was wonderful. Trips family and Mom are lovely and it shows us where Trip gets his lovely nature from. T'pol remained very much in character in the midst of such emotion and chaos. Look forward to your next chapter.

I just DOUBLE DOG DARE you to use this line: "It seems to have grown... considerably." -- T'Pol

GREAT chapter.... hee hee hee hee hee... I'm all warm & fuzzy!

I *loved* this to bits, made me laugh and feel all warm and happy inside. Love how Trip's mum has taken to T'Pol and how much she has learnt from her human. Can't wait for the next chapter! Ali D :~)

YAY!

This was hilarious! More please! I love this story.

Very enjoyable and fun to read!

oh this chapter is hilarious. perfectly trip. love those story moments... just love them.

Hilarious. I love it. More please.

A delight to read -- I was laughing out loud when Mrs. T walked in with the baby book!

Wow, this is actully quite good. Trip's folks are so cool specially his mom. Very cool lady. Loved the baby book at the end.

wonderful, just so funny, the baby book is hilarious , pleasssssse continue..!!!

I love this story! Mrs. T and the baby book is so funny...every child's worst nightmare. :) And this is sooo much better reading than the British Lit homework I'm supposed to be doing.

Positively adorable!

Loved the baby book at the end. good idea write more