Fulfilled

Fulfilled

By Samantha Quinn

Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek, any of its sequels or its prequel. Theoretically, I suppose I own Charlie, Maggie, and Koval. But neither they nor their parents are making me any money in this fic, so please don’t sue.
Codes: sort of A/T’P, mostly T’P/Tu . Angst.
Summary: Sequel to Unfulfilled. Probably won’t make any sense unless you read that one first. The Archer and Tucker families are reunited.
A/N: Remember, this is a completely A/U version of how things might have gone, beginning in the Expanse. Also, not beta’ed, so mistakes are acknowledged and apologized for in advance.
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Part I

Maggie’s lament

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When I was a little girl, I loved to hear my father read to me. Most people can’t really fathom that – Admiral Malcolm Reed, tactical genius and commander extraordinaire, reading bedtime stories while curled up next to a teddy bear and little girl in pink slippers.

Yes, I liked the color pink once. What can I say? It took a while to grow into my current persona. Besides, Dad likes to say it was my way of rebellion. Mom appreciates that I got it out of my system early on.

Still, for those that don’t know my father well, I can see why it would be a humorous image. What they usually fail to take into consideration Dad’s gentle nature – few people know that side of the Great Admiral Reed. They also fail to realize that my father’s idea of a proper bedtime story was far from Goldilocks, or The Three Little Pigs. Some little girls got the Brothers Grim or Aesop. For me it Shakespeare and Joyce. It was nothing less than the classics. From what I’ve since discerned, three of the four share an unhealthy appreciation for ghosts and witches.

Oh, the perfection of the bedtime story world. Sometimes I long for the simplicity of that world – ghosts and witches be damned. In that utopia, there are protagonists and antagonists and with such characters, clearly defined degrees of right and wrong, with no use for prickly shades of gray. Unfortunately, the real world isn’t always like that. People may try their hardest and still wind up doing the exact opposite of what they should do.

On nights like tonight, however, I find that difficult to remember. My unborn son’s acrobatics and his father sleeping by my side both make me inclined to believe that the binary of protagonists and antagonists is absolutely correct.

It is only at night that I can dwell upon such thoughts. Given that Koval and I are bonded, my thoughts – and feelings – disturb him too much during the day. At night, as long as he is asleep, and as long as I don’t allow myself to become too emotional. That’s not usually a hard task. After all, being married to a Vulcan can teach you a lot about self control.

If you’re willing to listen. Unlike, say, a certain former Captain of the Enterprise.

I shouldn’t be so hard on Archer, of course. He does love Koval. As my dear grandfather Reed so aptly demonstrated, just because you don’t show it doesn’t mean you don’t feel it. And unlike Grandfather Reed, Archer has the added problem of the “Off the Pedestal Syndrome” that came with the decommissioning of his ship. It’s a condition that is increasing each year, as the number of retired Starfleet Captains grows. Not everyone that sits in the center chair is affected – Dad and Unc. . . um, Trip, never were – but enough that they warn about it during the command courses at the Academy now.

Sadly, Archer has been affected by it in the worst way. Although he holds one of the highest positions possible within Starfleet hierarchy, he is bound and determined to think of himself as “deskbound.” Some days, I feel sympathy for his condition, other days I rage at him for his foolishness. On nights like tonight, I simply pity him, for he has no conception of how bad things really are.

It’s also on nights like tonight that I can’t help but be a little angry at my mother-in-law, for her strict adherence to logic, and at Trip, for being so brash. But I suppose that isn’t fair. After all, T’Pol is a Vulcan, and Trip, well, from the stories my father’s told, Trip used to be synonymous with the word impetuous. It’s not a side of him ever seen by Charlie, Koval, or myself. But, perhaps he finally learned his lesson. Many think that Trip Tucker died with Elizabeth Tucker. I personally believed he died on my in-laws wedding day.

It’s a shame. From what I’ve heard, I think I would have liked to have known the old Charles Tucker III, brashness and all.

Trip’s personality change was not the only suffering he’s endured since then. My mother and father have a happy marriage. Travis and Chianna have a happy marriage, which may be the only alternative when you’re married to a Betazoid. Hoshi and her second husband, Dr. Shanks, have a lovely marriage, which might only be expected when a brilliant linguist marries a brilliant archeologist.

But Trip and Natalie? Even before their divorce, it was obvious that their partnership was nothing more than an . . . amicable companionship.

And of course, my in-laws’ marriage is the very antithesis of what a happy marriage should be. I know from my bond with Koval that his father primarily lays the blame on his mother for the lackluster marriage. Yet, I sometimes must resist the urge to shake Archer, and ask him why the hell he never bothered to ask T’Pol to explain the change of heart she must have had early on in their marriage.

As for my mother-in-law. . . it would be easy to dismiss her pain and lay the blame at her feet. After all, she did marry Archer. No one forced her to, and to be honest, the reasons she gave Koval don’t make entirely a lot of sense. Even if Trip did reject her, why marry Archer? Why not find someone else. . . someone she could actually love? Oops, Vulcans don’t like that word. Someone she could cherish, then? There’s a piece of the puzzle missing, but the hell if I’m going to search around for it. The entire situation is entirely too fragile. As much of a cliché as it is, it’s a genuine house of cards. On nights like tonight, I grow fearful of the deepness of my breathes, for fear that somehow they will disrupt the carefully flimsy home, bring all the cards tumbling down, and destroying everyone in the process.

Illogical, huh? I’d better learn to curb that type of thought if I’m going to spend the rest of my life with a Vulcan, even a half Vulcan.

On nights like this one, I wonder if maybe I’m going crazy. And now I realize why Shakespeare’s antagonists far outweighed the protagonists.

At the same time. . . was Macbeth a protagonist or an antagonist?

Koval stirs in his sleep and I glance down to look at him, to gaze upon that beautiful face and those lovely Vulcan features that I love so much. And they are so very Vulcan. With his eyes closed, there is not one discernable trait from Koval’s father. But how could Archer not wonder whenever Koval opened his eyes where those heavenly blue eyes came from? How could he not see?

Maybe because he had no reason to suspect. He does not share with T’Pol that which I do with my husband. My husband in fact, did not want to bond with me. He was afraid of all the information that I would learn – about Trip, T’Pol, and Archer – and scared that it would change my opinion of him.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

“I want a Vulcan ceremony.”

“It’s my wedding, you’re a Vulcan, and I want a Vulcan ceremony. How can it be more complicated than that?”

“A Vulcan ceremony would have to be done in secrecy, and none of our family members could attend. Is that truly the memory you want for your wedding?”

“The solution is simple. We have a secret Vulcan wedding, and a public ‘human’ wedding.”

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

Koval had continued to give me the run-around. I finally got tired of it and went to T’Pol, figuring she’d give me a straight answer. She didn’t, of course. Still, a week after I spoke to her, Koval had changed his mind. I refuse to believe the timing was a coincidence.

Of course, once I bonded with Koval I realized that, in fact, it was only the circumstances that necessitated the Vulcan wedding to be ‘private.’ Through the bond I also felt the flood of conflicting emotions from Koval concerning his parents. He holds an incredible amount of love for Trip, T’Pol, and Archer. Yet, that love is compounded by the guilt and a determination not to consciously hurt any of them any more than they already have been. I suppose that’s the reason for the truce between Koval and Archer that came so unexpectedly during my husband’s senior year.

And I’ll be eternally grateful to T’Pol for what she did. The bond I share with my husband is nothing short of amazing. There aren’t words powerful enough in the human vocabulary to describe the feeling. Hah, probably because the bond isn’t supposed to be described by humans. Regardless, the utter joy and contentment that I receive from the bond is greater than any other I have ever known. There simply can’t exist an equal to the shared feeling of mirth crossing our minds in daytime conversation or the shared feeling of enjoyment during sex. Knowing how and what Koval feels and vice versa creates a harmony many married couples may strive towards, but few actually achieve.

It’s only when I remember to pause and take this into consideration that I realize the scope of what T’Pol gave up when she married Archer and chose not to bond. From what Koval has told me, Vulcans look forward to the bonding ceremony from the time they are fourteen and first told of it. Nearly all of their lives they strive towards this goal of joining minds permanently with their mate. Hell, it’s so entrenched into their way of life that there is no Vulcan word for “husband” or “wife.” One literally has to use the term for “bondmate” to describe one’s spouse in the native Vulcan language.

I can’t imagine what T’Pol must have thought – what she must have viewed so important as to feel it was worth it to toss that opportunity out the airlock. The depth of her aloneness frightens me, here in the dark, and I can’t suppress the shiver that overcomes me.

*Maggie?* I have disturbed my husband’s sleep. The gentle caress of his voice in my head again reminds me of the absence of such a caress in T’Pol’s life and I feel more than a twinge of guilt at my earlier judgments. She’ll never know this feeling, this reassurance, this love. How can she, until Archer dies? But there is no need to disturb my husband further.

*It is okay, Koval. The baby just kicked a little hard. Go back to sleep.*

*Yes.*

I wait until I am certain that he has gone back to sleep before I continue to let my mind wander. It wanders out of our quarters, down the hall to the turbolift and up to B deck, where two of the people my child will call grandparents reside next door to the one my child will not name as grandparent, but holds that right as much as my own parents do. It is probably the visit of Ambassador T’Pol, Admiral Archer, and Commissioner Tucker that has brought on this night of contemplation. Or perhaps the dread that I will accompany two of them home to Earth to finishing waiting on my son to be born is what is keeping me awake. They arrived only today, and have had little chance to wreck havoc on any of our lives – yet. Trip was tired, T’Pol wanted to meditate, and the Admiral spent a good deal of time talking with the Captain.

Despite the warmer temperatures of this room that Koval prefers, I shiver for the second time tonight. Determined to get some sleep, I wrap my arm around Koval and pull the covers as snugly as they will fit. I also try not to feel hostile towards the Federation for needing all three of their votes on their recent legislative measure.

In an effort to try to relax, I try not to focus on my child’s heritage, but instead on the joys that he will bring to Koval and myself. There’s no doubting our son will have equally strong memories of bedtime stories, as both Koval and I were read to frequently as children and will no doubt pass that tradition onto our child. One of Koval’s favorites is . Koval has fond memories of his mother reading it to him as a child. I don’t typically have anything against the story, but tonight I find fault in the message of positive results from weaving in a spider’s web. I don’t believe we shall share that particular story with our son. Given his heritage, “a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive” seems much more . . . appropriate.

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Oh, have no fear, Maggie’s chapter is just necessary set-up. So, yes, there’s a lot you already knew from the last story, but hey, she didn’t get a POV that time around.

Feedback is good.

Continue to Part 2

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Half a dozen of you have made comments

Yeah!! I'm so glad you decided to continue the story. I can only hope this one will have a happier ending.

Nice summary and set up to this continuation. You are a master at POV pieces. I look forward to more...and I share skye's hope for a happier ending. More please!

Me too!!! I hope there will be a "fulfillment" this time! And I´m glad, that you´ve decided to continue this story!!

An optimistic title...looking forward to the next chapter.

Thanks for continuing the story. I loved the last one, but it was so depressing, I had to fight back tears. Seriously. I hope the title of this one stands true. Or those tears might win the fight.

Oh! I love this series, and am glad to see another chapter has come to life! I'm anxiously awaiting what happens next.