Fulfilled-Pt 16

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.

Epilogue

Trip/T’Pol POVs

~~

*Seven Years Later*

*************~~~~~~~~~~~~*************

*Trip’s POV*

~~

This scenario should be routine. How many times over the past eight years have T’Pol and I stood in this very kitchen preparing our meals together?

Then again, how many meals did we miss in the twenty-five years prior to that? Maybe that’s why watching T’Pol boil the tea leaves while I attempt – poorly – to peel the plomeek will never become routine. Every single time, from now until the day I die, I will treat this opportunity as the special gift I know it to be. Any time I start to take it for granted, all I need to do is remember the quarter of a century I was denied the simple pleasure of watching her eat. It would sound silly to most people, I suppose. But, hell, I fell in love with T’Pol the first time watching her eat across from me at the Captain’s Table. So, it makes perfectly good – logical –sense that I take such joy in watching her be around food now.

Of course, there’s such a thing as too much joy, particularly when I’m wielding a rather large Butcher knife against an especially stubborn stalk of plomeek. Because my finger is no way near as stubborn, I really should have reined my joy in long enough to let concentration guide the knife.

T’Pol senses the pain through our bond and is at my side even before the curse leaves my mouth. “Let me see how deeply you have cut yourself,” she instructs.

“I’m fine, T’Pol,” I argue feebly as she uses her superior Vulcan strength to wrestle my left hand out of my right hand’s protective grasp. She surveys the cut for a minute before turning her head in a not-quite-disapproving-but-still-a-damn-good-imitation-of-it shake. Grasping me by the wrist, she begins to move towards the sink. Since a good deal of pain is all I have to gain by remaining in my place, I follow willingly.

“I can do that, ya know,” I remark as she lifts the dermal regenerator from its holding cell on the wall above the faucet.

Ignoring my comment, she replies, “Once again I feel compelled to contact Phlox and thank him for his gift.”

“Yeah, it comes in handy.”

“I imagine he knew that it would. I have told him of your stubbornness concerning the lirp’ata and the plomeek.” After running a finger over the place where the cut used to be, T’Pol releases my finger. Now that both my hands are free, I take the opportunity to wrap both my hands around T’Pol’s waist.

“Now why is it being stubborn just because I want to help my bondmate make dinner?” I murmur into her ear.

“Because you are not skilled at using the tool necessary to complete the task,” T’Pol answers as she wraps her own hands around my neck.

“I know. But I want to learn how. It’s important to me, T’Pol.”

“Is there a good logical reason why you cannot simply prepare the side dishes?”

Stopping my tasting of her earlobe, I look seriously into her face. “Yes, there’s a very logical one. My daughter and my bondmate are both Vulcan and plomeek is a staple of their diets. That’s my reason.” And I will, too. Even if it takes me another eight years.

Her left eyebrow twitches. “That is not logical in the least. It is highly emotional, though. . . . it is appreciated.”

I start to reply, but my voice is drowned out by the sound of Seleya’s voice, signaling her return home.

“We’re in the kitchen, Seleya,” I call out, unwrapping myself from T’Pol. Not that we don’t show affection in front of our daughter, because we do. It just happens that Seleya’s arrival reminded us both how far we are from finishing the actual task at hand.

*I expect you’ll continue your ministrations several hours from now,* T’Pol instructs over our bond.

*You can count on it.*

“Good evening, Seleya. How did your meditation tutoring go?” T’Pol asks, as she begins preparing the salad. After swooping down and giving my daughter a kiss on the forehead, I return to the plomeek, my determination renewed.

*Please do not injure yourself again. You shall need your hands to fulfill your promise.*

*Cuts like a Butcher knife.*

“It did not proceed very well, Mother.” Seleya pulls out a stool and sits down with a heavy sigh. “I do not believe I am going to be a very good Vulcan, Mother,” she adds before placing her head in her arms on top of the table. She looks so pitiful I almost abandon what I’m doing long enough to comfort her.

But, no, this is a Vulcan issue. That’s strictly T’Pol’s territory.

“Why do you believe yourself to be lacking in your Vulcan heritage?”

“I had a difficult time concentrating during my meditation session today.”

“During the course of your life, that will sometimes occur. It will occur most frequently when you are deeply . . . . disconcerted about something.”

Seleya looks up at her mother with complete and utter surprise. “You’ve had trouble meditating, Mother?” I restrain a laugh. Seleya practically worships T’Pol. It’s never entered her mind that T’Pol might have any difficulties. I can’t wait until the teenage – I-hate-you-and-you-know-nothing stage. Then again, maybe the kid’s Vulcan half will save her – and us.

“Yes. All Vulcans do at some point, particularly when they are having an especially taxing time suppressing your emotions in the first place. In my case, the cause is typically your father.”

“Hey!”

*Concentrate on the plomeek, t’hy’la.*

“But, Soval says –“

“Soval is a wise Vulcan, and you can learn much from him. However, in life you will most likely do many things that he will disapprove of.”

“So. . . I can just ignore him?” Poor kid. She sounds so hopeful.

“I did not say that. However. . . if I had listened to all of Soval’s advice, you would not be in existence.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t listen to him, then,” Seleya declares.

“As am I.”

“Worked out pretty good for me, too,” I chime in, which earns me a glare from T’Pol.

*Concentrate.*

*I AM.*

“I suspect your difficulty in meditating can be traced to your continual displeasure that Tegar is visiting Earth and you are not?”

For a very brief moment, I’m pretty sure the path of Surak is the furthest thing from my youngest child’s mind, if the scowl that crosses her face is any indication. “Charlie is MY brother,” she says angrily. “Not Tegar’s. He should have taken me to Earth with him instead.”

“Honey, Charlie took you to the Federation History Museum on his last break,” I point out gently, earning me a look of utter betrayal.

“Indeed. He simply believed that it would have been appropriate to spend an equal amount of time with Tegar.”

“I know. But I like Uncle Malcolm, and we do not see him very much at all,” she pouts. “He tells the most interesting stories – well, yours are better, of course, Father, but Uncle Malcolm tells intriguing stories as well.”

“Such as what?” I ask, simultaneously sending a message to T’Pol. *I’m done peeling. All I have to do now is chop.*

*I am pleased your fingers escaped without a second injury.*

“Uncle Malcolm tells stories about Robin Hood . . . Oh! My favorites are about King Arthur and his knights,” Seleya relates happily, momentarily forgetting her determination to be as Vulcan as possible. Then she frowns. “That was a highly emotional sentence. I think I will attempt once again to meditate before dinner.”

“Very well. Be advised, however, that I will continue to cherish you whether or not you chose to follow the path of Surak,” T’Pol answers smoothly.

“That is very fortunate, Mother, as the path is quite difficult for me to follow.”

*************~~~~~~~~~~~~*************

*T’Pol’s POV*

Several minutes have passed since Seleya departed for her room. That particular child is having a much more difficult time with her heritage than my son did. With each increasing day, I find myself more gratified that I am currently bonded to a man who will be much more understanding than my previous husband.

Trip and I have heard from Jonathan only once in the eight years that we have been bonded. Six months after Seleya was born, his office sent a congratulatory note on her birth. Coming addressed to “Ambassador T’Pol and Commissioner Tucker (Ret.),” it was strictly an official notice, and only two sentences long. Given the amount of emotional sentiment Jonathan is capable of, the lack of emotion in the letter was quite telling. I understand his reasoning, and do not blame him, though I do wish circumstances were different, for my husband’s sake. While I considered Jonathan a friend, Trip has faced the one fear that initially separated us: he has lost his friend.

“Would you prefer baked fruit or fresh fruit for dessert?” I ask my husband. For a minute there isn’t a reply and I turn to face him. I find him to still be looking after the direction in which Seleya departed up the stairs, with a wistful expression upon his face.

*T’hyl’a?*

He turns in my direction, then, forcing a smile. “Sorry, T’Pol. Did you say something?”

“I inquired what type of dessert you preferred.”

The smile he flashes this time is one which alerts me to the upcoming plea. “Pecan pie?”

“No.”

“Key lime?”

“No. You are well aware that our family’s consumption of pie is limited to once a month.”

“It’s had to have been at least one month since – “

“You have an additional three days, t’hy’la.”

“All right. Fresh fruit, then.”

I turn to prepare the fruit, while my bondmate places the plomeek in the cooking container. As he nears me, I sense something not quite. . right.

“What is bothering you?” I inquire.

“Nothin’, T’Pol. Why’d you ask?”

“I can sense it through our bond.”

“I was just thinking. . . about King Arthur. Do you know the story?”

“I assume you are referring to Guinevere and Lancelot?” The connection is an easy one to make.

“Yeah. . . . I mean, I’m happy and everything, but . . . "

“But you have lost your Arthur,” I supply.

“Just like Lancelot,” he replies.

“On the contrary, if the analogy is to hold, it is I who hold the position of Lancelot,” I correct gently. “According to the story, Lancelot was an outsider – as was I – who’s entry into Camelot ultimately severed the relationship of a relationship believed to be impenetrable.”

“So. . . I’m Guinevere?” My bondmate’s face twists into a genuine smile as he questions it, and I can feel his amusement flood our bond.

“You are, if the analogy is to be a complete one,” I reply.

My bondmate eases himself onto the counter top, though there are plenty of stools for his behind to occupy instead. “You know, something, T’Pol? When I was on Kowl, I had some diplomatic dealings with the Potonians. Have you dealt with them before?”

“I have not.”

“Well, the Potonians believe that, in the beginning of time, their gods took one male and one female and separated them by thousands of miles with instructions to find one another. Each time the couple got close to finding each other, the Potonian gods through up something else in their way – mountains, trees, monsters ,you name it – but the Potonians refused to give up. Eventually, they came together atop Mount Tolol, and when the gods saw that the distance each had traveled was equal to the other, they relented and allowed the couple to remain together. To this day, the Pontonians take a vow to always, ‘meet in the middle,’ when they are married.”

“That creation myth is one of the more lively accounts I have heard, but I fail to see –“

“We met in the middle, T’Pol. A whole lot of crap was thrown our way ,but we overcame it. Come to think of it, Guinevere and Lancelot never did, so I guess we aren’t very much like them at all.”

“Perhaps.”

“It’s a good thing, actually. I’d make a pretty bad nun.” He slides himself off the counter and walks in the direction of his den. As I watch him go, I can only be reminded of the contentedness I experience in his presence. If pressed, I would admit that happiness is no longer the one human emotion that remains elusive. Wherever Jonathan Archer may be, I hope he is likewise as content.

Turning back towards the half-way prepared fruit, I decide that perhaps my family can have their pie three days ahead of schedule.

*************~~~~~~~~~~~~*************

The End.

Return to Chapter 15

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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

Wow! This was an amazing tale through and through. A job very, very well done!

Yay, whoo...oh, its over...damn, I was enjoying that!

Actually, I was quite suprised that you managed to be so nice to Archer...the penultimate sentence is generosity itself...oh well, can't have everthing my own way ;)

Thank you for a wonderful, if epic, story Samantha...I'm looking forward to something new from you. SOON!

Nice ending. I like the 'imperfect' Camelot analogy and the Potonian cultural reference. It brought everything together in perspective.

I was thinking that you were going to kill Archer off or something. Instead, you've allowed us readers to imagine for ourselves what he might be doing. I hope he is happy too.

I thoroughly enjoyed reading and commenting on all of the chapters in this story (as I did it's predecessor). You always seem to inspire intense response to your characters and story....at least from me. Thank you for providing such a wonderful distraction from the 'usual' of my everyday existence.

I look forward to your next fic!

on the camalot analogy..
sam do you read the trek bbs
;)

actually i do hope some day jon does come to a realization that while some awful things happened during that time (koval's death being the big one)that it was love that was originally behind it.

it just shows how screwed up love can make things.

maybe it will take someone from the outside that archer meets who can point this out to him.
i dont expect they ever again will be total friends but there can be some type of reconcilliation between the two.

on the camalot analogy..
sam do you read the trek bbs
;)

actually i do hope some day jon does come to a realization that while some awful things happened during that time (koval's death being the big one)that it was love that was originally behind it.

it just shows how screwed up love can make things.

maybe it will take someone from the outside that archer meets who can point this out to him.
i dont expect they ever again will be total friends but there can be some type of reconcilliation between the two.

:sigh: I can't believe your finished! I don't want this to end so quickly! Make it last forever! Or at least have another sequal. The kid of Trip and T'Pol grows up... she get's married....

Darn, why does it have to end? :(

Ladydi pays her respect to the author, by getting out of my chair and giving her a standing ovation! Bravo!! bravo!!

Sam,

Thanks for the great journey and a beautiful finale!

Ladydi

Pookha,
Why yes I do. ;) But the Potonians are mine! Well, mine and my mother's.

Clicks,
I can't tell you how much that sentence hurt to write. "Archer" and "happy" are two words that should never preceed the same period. :)

I have several new themes bouncing around in my head, some angsty, some sticky sweet, some smutty, but before I write any of them, I am going to try to force myself to finish "To Have Learned. . ." i don't really like that story very much, but I started it, so I have to finish it, especially since the last chapter has already been written. *rollseyes.*

I'm glad everyone enjoyed tis thing. Sadly, it was only supposed to be the first two chapters of "Unfulfilled." Oops.

And I apologize for all the typos above. I do know the difference between "through" and "threw," honest. :(

ahh.. i thought i had seen something about trip as guinevere before (lol)

really liked the fable from the potonians..
the first two chapters ,,uh,,

how about some sweet and smutty stuff.

Sweet and smutty... two words that everyone just loves to hear! Well me anyway....

Just loved this to bits! So happy that T'Pol and Trip are together and married and have a daughter together. They are just wonderful together and the way you write them makes me delirious with joy. So many thanks there aren't enough words, Ali D :~)

This was a wonderful story! Loved the ending. I'm just happy that it's finally finished it's been a hell of a rollcoaster story ... WHEW!! I loved the way everyone was given closure ... as for Archer ... he's made his decision and he'll have to live with it. Thanks for the ride. Looking forward to your next fanfic.

PS Why don't you like "To Have Learned ... "? Looking forward to it's end as well.

NO!!!!!!! Don't say it's not over!!!! I loved this story, and to see it end saddens me a bit, but it's a beautiful ending. I hope to read a new story from you soon.

I read through Unfulfilled and Fulfilled last night on ff.net...what a lovely set of stories! They were beautifully written, and emotionally stirring. I'm only sorry I didn't discover them before now!

Wow. Excellent ending. It feels like all the loose ends have been tied up (even though Archer's fate is somewhat open ended.) Great story!

Sam, Sam I am... wow. what a great story (great stories). I've loved this universe and hope maybe we can read a bit more one day about them.

I loved Trip's Arthur idea... can you all guess what my girl dog's name is???

Oh the fable! Ever seen Dead Again with Emma Thomson and Kenneth Braghan (suck at their names and too lazy to look up on imdb) when they were married. Makes me think of this.

The voices so good.

Love the whole conversation with their daughter.

The pie 3 days early... T'Pol you softy.

A follow on epilogue... you really must address Archer a tad more. Though fitting in congratulations note.

Now now Tacy.... we can't expect Samantha to give us any closure on what happened to Archer..... I mean she had to endure sooo much hardship...what with having to write "Archer" and "Happy" in the same sentence an' all. Truth is....he is probably happier than a Rigellian Wart Hog in Klingon feces. Just to clarify the issue Samantha....what your saying is that....

Archer is happy.....Archer is happy....(say it with me now) ....Archer is happy....Archer is happy.

(Sigh) That felt good.

Uh....did I thank you for making Archer happy. Thank you.

Is this Archer's story? Nope. Romeo and Juliet is about Romeo and Juliet. . . not Paris.

However, for those of you demanding a follow up to Archer, here it is:

While Archer went back to T'Pol, Laura got tired of waiting on him, and married someone else, and is happily married on a farm in Iowa, raising the current generation of Kirks. Archer is devastated, and in desperation, flees to his long ago forgotten love, Maureen. Unfortunately, she too has forgotten Jon and is currently raising her own clan of Siskos in Louisana. His one last chance at romantic happiness lies with Rebecca, who, wouldn't you know, is happily married to one General Picard in the happy land of France.

Giving up on love permanently, Archer crawls back to Starfleet Command, determined to "make a difference," once again. He finds out that he has been fired, do to the long leave of absence Archer took in his (failed) attempt to find love.

Archer currently resides alone, in an empty apartment in San Francisco, with only his past glory and his hand for company.

One day, he falls madly in love with the cleaning lady next door, a Kathryn Grayson, only to find out she too is Happily Married to someone else. This is too much, and one year after the epilogue above, Archer can bear no more, and jumps out the window of his apartment. Ninety stories later, his body lays in broken remains on the pavement for several days, until the neighbors complain of the smell. When the identity is discovered, a funeral is held, two people attend, and no one really cares.

The Sun shines brightly on the day Archer's corpse is placed in the ground, rejoicing in the knowledge that Archer never reproduced or found happiness.

The True End.
(And no, Tracy, I haven't seen Dead End. Sounds interesting.)

Ouch. Ninety stories? Harsh, very harsh. But Hilarious!

Ooh, Samantha! You REALLY know how to trample on the hopes of Archer followers!

I do love that all of Archer's failed loves lead to the obviously intelligent women bearing (or having families which will lead to) much more effective Captains. Bravo!

(Must say that I'm going to keep the R&J not Paris line in my head for a long, long time)

oh man samantha..
that was sooo mean..
sniff

I can't think of anything to say about this that hasn't already been said better by someone else, but I did want to let you know how much I enjoyed this story ("enjoyed" is not quite the right word for an incredible emotional rollercoaster ride, but it will do). I don't think I've read another story in fanfiction that inspired such strong reactions from its readers -- myself included. I've loved it and I've hated it, sometimes at the same time, but I'm so glad to have read it. I'm looking forward to your next "epic".