Lovers

Lovers

By Samantha Quinn

Rating: PG-13, PG-13, Romance, Humor

Disclaimer: The likelihood that I own the characters described below is about as likely as me becoming Captain of the Enterprise F tomorrow. In other words, I don’t. The likelihood of Paramount/Viacom owning them is as likely as the actions below never happening on screen. In other words, they do. No profit is being made, please don’t sue. Also, while this is not a song fic in the traditional sense ( I HATE those), the plot, Junior Wilson, and some of the dialog does come directly from the song “Lovers” performed by the Kinleys on their album The Kinleys II. Also not owned by me. Also not providing me any $. Also no reason to sue.

Summary: T'Pol and Trip discuss lovers, Hoshi, and Malcolm

A/N: Yep, I know what rank Hoshi and Malcolm are. This is set some time in the not-so-distant future.

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To the majority of patrons inside Chumley’s, the three sitting at the table towards the back were a strange sight indeed. The San Franciscans did not frequently have the pleasure of seeing a professional male Starfleet officer, a Vulcan female, and one of their own sitting together. Fortunately, their own was Junior Wilson, which meant all of the locals’ questions would be answered in intimate detail after the Vulcan and Starfleet officer left. Junior was not known for being discreet. Certain that their questions would be answered later, the Franciscans remained satisfied with curious glances towards the three while the Jazz band played on.

It was his own innate curiosity-less kind individuals would have called it nosiness-that led Junior Wilson to extend an invitation to himself by joining the two as they sat listening to the O’Kinley Jazz group. Wilson hadn’t figured the Starfleet officer would mind-the man had known the Floridian for at least ten years. While Wilson’s theory about Trip had proved correct, Wilson had been surprised to see Trip hold a finger to his lips in a quiet motion when he sat down. Patiently, Wilson waited for the group to finish their set. In the meantime, he tried to glean any information he could by observing Trip and the Vulcan female while the band played.

Trip was nursing the same bottle of beer he had been drinking all night. Wilson noted the unusualness of that-the Trip he remembered could drink almost anyone under the table. The Vulcan that accompanied him sat drinking a glass of water. Knowing Vulcans were driven by logic, Wilson figured being drunk was probably illogical. A helluva lot of fun, in Wilson’s opinion, but not logical.
While Wilson completely understood why the Vulcan was consuming only water while inside a bar, he could not understand the nature of the relationship between his old friend and the Vulcan. There was no intimate contact between them to signify them being a couple. On the contrary, Trip sat slumped in his chair while the Vulcan sat with perfect posture in hers. Still, Trip was leaning in quite close to the female, nearly touching. Wilson had heard once that Vulcans didn’t like to touch. Trip seemed to be awfully close to a person of a species that didn’t like personal contact. Interestingly, the Vulcan did not appear to mind.

What Wilson found most interesting was the way Trip would keep sneaking glances at the Vulcan during the set. Trip was paying more attention to her than he was the music. Even more intriguing was the fact that Wilson had caught the Vulcan glancing at Trip during the set twice. Perhaps she was more interested in Trip than the music as well. Still, while their non-verbal was fun for Wilson to watch, he desperately wanted the music to end so that he could observe some of their verbal interaction.

His wish was soon granted. The O’Kinleys left the stage and Trip nodded in his direction. “Evenin’, Junior. This is Sub-Commander T’Pol. T’Pol, this is Junior Wilson.”

T’Pol nodded once, politely. “Good evening, Mr. Wilson,” she said crisply.
“You don’t have to call me Mr. Wilson, Sub-Commander,” he assured her. “You can call me Junior. Everyone does.”

*If she calls you Junior but won’t call me Trip, I’m gonna have to be pretty jealous,* Trip reflected to himself. To T’Pol he asked, “How did ya like the group, T’Pol?”

Taking a sip of her water, T’Pol paused a moment before responding. “Their timing was off considerably.”

Trip sighed in frustration. “It was a live band! Of course their timing was off. It’s not like it’s recorded music.”

“No,” T’Pol agreed. “Still, I have heard other ‘live’ bands keep time in a much more efficient manner.”

“Ya didn’t like it, then?” Trip asked, somewhat dejectedly.

“On the contrary, Commander Tucker. I found their sound to be most. . . pleasing, regardless of their inability to perfect their skill.”

Wilson was a bit confused. “Does that mean she likes it?” he asked of Trip.
Trip flashed him a grin. “Yep, it sure does.”

*How arrogant of him to presume to know my thoughts. Unfortunately, he is correct and thus it would be inappropriate to contradict him. I must yield,* T”Pol noted. “Indeed, Commander Tucker. I am most gratified towards you for bringing me here.”

“Well, when ya mentioned ya liked Jazz but had never been to Jazz night at Chumley’s, I had to bring ya. Now that the refit is nearly finished, I could get away from The Enterprise so, I figured this is as good of time as any to bring ya here.” Trip told her.

“Ah,” Junior stated. “That explains why I keep running into members of the Enterprise crew in San Francisco.”

Trip nodded, but T’Pol furrowed her brows. “You were there for the unfortunate incident with Lt. Cmdr. Reed and Lt. Sato last evening?” she asked.

Wilson nodded and grinned. “Yep. High quality entertainment, those officers of yours.”

Trip looked confused. “What unfortunate incident?” he asked. If he didn’t know her very well, Trip could have sworn he had just seen T’Pol wince. *Damnit, I knew I should have went out with them last night instead of staying in to watch that stupid water polo game with the Captain.*

“As you are aware, Commander Tucker, yesterday evening I accompanied Lt. Sato, Commander Reed, and Crewman Cutler to the Horseshoe Lounge.”
“Yeah, I remember. Hey, that makes this two bars in a row you’ve gone to,” Trip said with a wink.

Wilson noted with delight that the Vulcan turned her entire body towards Trip to reply. “I assure you, Commander Tucker, my purpose in attending last night’s celebration was strictly a supervisory position. With the Captain deciding to remain behind to watch water polo,” T’Pol’s voice did not hide her disdain, “I deemed it necessary for there to be a senior officer present, especially given the frequency with which Lt. Sato and Commander Reed disagree with one another.”

*And what was tonight?* Trip mocked. Before he could ask that, however, Wilson piped up again. “With all due respect, Sub-Commander, I think your supervisory skills are in need of some work.”

Trip stifled a guffaw, somewhat unsuccessfully. The glare the Sub-Commander had been focusing on Wilson turned towards him. Turning his laugh into another grin, he implored again, “What happened at the Horseshoe Lounge?”
T’Pol sighed. “In an undoubtedly illogical state of anger-"

“Fueled by romance,” interjected Wilson. Trip stifled a chuckle again. *Wonder if T’Pol still thinks anger is an illogical human emotion?* he wondered.

T’Pol clasped her hands tightly together and began again, “In a fit of anger, fueled perhaps by the foolish human emotion of romance,” she emphasized, “Lt. Sato inflicted damage to the passenger side of Commander Reed’s vehicle shortly before vacating the premises.”

Trip could see T’Pol was clearly frustrated by the incident, so he was trying not to laugh. Still, the mental picture he was getting wasn’t making it very easy. Wilson didn’t help much by joining the conversation.

“I saw it all,” Wilson confirmed. “Those phase pistols are something else.”
“That’s all you’re worried about, T’Pol?” Trip finally managed to squeak out without laughing. “A little scratch in Malcolm’s vehicle?”

T’Pol raised an eyebrow. “Of course not, Commander Tucker. Further events occurred. That incident simply served as the catalyst for the unfortunate chain of events that proceeded it.”

Trip sighed in frustration. “Well, are ya gonna tell me about it, or not? What happened next? And why was Hoshi mad at Malcolm anyway?”

T’Pol furrowed her eyebrows again. “I will continue the story. I will not, however, speculate on the nature of Lt. Sato’s discontent with Commander Reed. The two of them are, as you are well aware, a volatile match. They frequently display . . . strange emotions. . . for two who are supposed to care for one another.”

*Yep, that they do,* Trip thought to himself. “Well, T’Pol, it shows how passionate they feel for each other.”

*If that is how someone as normally collected as Commander Reed displays passion, I can only wonder how the man sitting across from me-who is never calm-would display such an emotion.* “Perhaps, Commander. In response to Lt. Sato’s display of passion, Commander Reed responded with his own unique emotional display. In a fit of anger, fueled by the irrational human desire for revenge, he exited the premises with Crewman Cutler in a rather intimate embrace.”

“Liz?” Trip asked in disbelief. At T’Pol’s nod, he wondered, “I thought she and Hoshi were beginning to become very good friends.”

“They were,” T’Pol responded. “However, I am uncertain whether that friendship remains today.”

Wilson snorted. “I doubt it.”

Trip sat up excitedly. “Ya mean, Hoshi found out?” he asked.

“Yep. I have it on good authority, just to make sure that Hoshi found out, Commander Reed drove by the hotel where you are staying, arm draped around the blond chick,” Wilson told him.

*Uh-oh.* “Well, that was certainly. . . ballsy of him,” Trip remarked. It earned him a nod from Wilson and a disapproving look from T’Pol.

“It was ill-mannered of him,” she replied. “After their unnecessary journey, Crewman Cutler and Commander Reed returned to the Horseshoe Lounge. Soon after, Lt. Sato returned as well, to see them dancing rather intimately.”
“Yep. I saw it all,” Wilson remarked cheerfully. “ Your Commander Reed had a rather smug smirk on his face when Hoshi walked in.” He turned and grinned at the Vulcan before stressing, “In a fit of anger, the Hoshi lady took a swing, and well, she knocked that hussy down.”

Trip choked on his beer. *Hoshi slugged someone? That’s great! And I missed it all for water polo. Damnit, Jon owes me big time!*

“What is a ‘hussy’?” T’Pol inquired. Wilson didn’t answer, as she hadn’t asked him anyway. In fact, he noticed that T’Pol had pretty much ignored his existence the whole night.

Trip’s grin re-emerged yet again. *That facial expression threatens to be my undoing,* T’Pol thought resolutely. *I find it to be unnaturally desirable.*

“A ‘hussy’ is a rather old slang term for an. . . um, well, an immoral woman,” Trip explained to the Vulcan. “I don’t suppose you have any of those on Vulcan, huh?”

T’Pol mentally recalled several women who had taken unjust advantage of males’ time of pon far and marveled again at the similarity in humans and Vulcans. To Trip she replied only, “On Vulcan we have several amoral women.”
“Amoral or immoral?” Trip pressed.

“On Vulcan, they are one and the same,” T’Pol responded.

“Sure. What, with the whole seven year thing,” Trip nodded.

Junior Wilson was pretty confused. “Seven year thing?” he asked, scratching his head. Maybe he’d had too much to drink tonight. But it seemed to him that the Vulcan and Trip were speaking in code that only they could understand at times.

“It is irrelevant to the conversation,” T’Pol replied.

“Yeah, what happened next, after Hoshi slugged Liz?” Trip demanded.

“Well, she did pause to wipe the lip gloss off the back of her hand,” Wilson informed him.

T’Pol nodded. “She confirmed it to be ‘cherry’ flavored. She then stated, ‘If you don’t mind, honey, I’ll have this dance.’ An illogical human slang term, as Crewman Cutler is not a saccharine, glutinous substance propagated by bees.”
The laughter he had been trying to hold in all night long finally escaped Trip’s mouth. “So, is all forgiven now, after their little fight?” he asked between gasps of laughter.

“Yes. Apparently, in a fit of passion, in the back of Reed’s vehicle, he said, ‘I love you, baby,’ which inspired Lt. Sato to forgive him. Another illogical human slang term, as Lt. Sato is far from being an infant,” T’Pol told Trip.

*Wow. Could you maybe repeat what it was that Malcolm said?* Trip wondered. Then he decided to press his luck. “What did he say?” he asked T’Pol.

*Could you not hear me correctly though your unnecessary display of humor?* T’Pol contemplated. Arching an eyebrow at him, she replied, “ The phrase was ‘I love you, baby.’.”

Trip nodded. *Well, we can’t all have fits of passion. Some of us have to settle for fits of fantasy. But hearing you say that phrase-twice-was enough to inspire a lifetime of fantasies.* “I figured they made up,” Trip remarked.
“How come?” Wilson asked, feeling more and more ignored with each passing moment.

“ Because last night, well, let’s just say they appeared to be having a ball, if the noise coming from their room last night was any indication,” Trip stated delicately.

Wilson laughed. *Obnoxious little man,* T’Pol thought privately. “It is time to leave, Commander Tucker,” she informed the engineer.

Sensing her change in mood, Trip decided not to argue. “Good night, Junior. It was nice seein’ ya again.”

“Same here,” Wilson agreed. “It was a pleasure to meet you, too, Sub-Commander.”

“Likewise,” the Vulcan replied in a tone of voice that made him doubt her sincerity. He ignored it, however, and Trip and T’Pol began to walk back to their hotel.

Halfway back to their hotel, Trip noticed T’Pol had not said much since they had left Chumley’s. “Is somethin’ the matter, T’Pol?” he asked.

“I am contemplating the nature of Commander Reed and Lt. Sato’s relationship,” she replied honestly. “I do not understand why Commander Reed would attempt to copulate with another woman when he is involved with Lt. Sato. From what I know of Commander Reed, he seemed more honorable than that.”

Trip smiled to himself and wondered how logical of an emotion honor was. “Oh, Malcolm didn’t have any designs to ‘copulate’ with Cutler, T’Pol. He was just tryin’ to make Hoshi jealous. And apparently, he did a good job.”

“What purpose would making her jealous serve?”

Trip sighed. “Well, sometimes humans make other humans jealous on purpose. . . to see how much their lovers care for them.”

“Their entire relationship appears to be . . . unique,” T’Pol remarked after a moment of silence.

“Oh?” Trip asked, trying to sound as neutral as possible.

“Indeed. I do not understand. They frequently engage in sparring or tear-inducing activities,” T’Pol stated.

“Yeah, you’re right. If it isn’t one thing, it’s another with them, huh?” Trip asked.
“Yes. Yet on most occasions they seem to be . . . very happy, if I understand the human concept correctly,” T’Pol remarked. There was a non-subtle amount of confusion in the Vulcan’s tone, and well, more than a smidgen of wistfulness.
“Well, their situation isn’t that unique, T’Pol,” Trip informed the Vulcan.

“Is it not?” she asked incredulously.

“No. Their relationship is pretty typical of human lovers. Fightin’ and cryin’ are part of the game.”

Resignation was evident in T’Pol’s voice when she replied. “If ‘fighting’ and ‘crying’ are part of the ‘game’, Commander Tucker, then I wonder why exactly they are called ‘lovers.’ As I understand the human concept of love, those are not compatible emotions.”

Trip chuckled softly. “Well, maybe you just need some additional help in researching the concept of human lovers,” he remarked. *Wow, that was more ballsy than Malcolm’s actions. Most definitely.*

T’Pol stopped walking and turned to look at him directly. “More research, Commander Tucker?”

Trip swallowed hard but continued on bravely, “Yep. Preferably of the more personal nature.” *I hope T’Pol doesn’t pull a Hoshi. Or think I’m Liz Cutler.*

To Trip’s immense relief, T’Pol refrained from striking him, and began to walk again. “I would require a research assistant for such a task, Commander. Do you know of anyone who might qualify?”

*Was that flirting? I think it was!* Throwing caution to the wind, Trip replied, “Well, there’s me.”

“You shall do nicely,” T’Pol remarked. Then she stopped and turned to face Trip yet again. “Do be advised of one thing, however, Commander Tucker.”

“What’s that, T’Pol?”

“Vulcans are approximately twice as strong as humans. If you decide to be as disrespectful as Commander Reed has been, I shall be forced to demonstrate that fact.” She paused slightly before adding, “and not to the ‘hussy’ either.”
Trip grinned and leaned forward to caress her earlobe. “I’ll never do that to ya, I promise.”

T’Pol shivered at his touch. “Then we shall both benefit from this cultural exchange. I shall learn more about human customs and you shall learn more about Vulcans.”

Trip nodded, and caressed her other ear. Thoroughly enjoying the response he was getting, he asked, “T’Pol, I do have one question right away. Um, . . . the seven year thing. . . is it um, . . . accurate?”

T’Pol cocked her head. “I do believe you shall find the answer to that out in good time, Commander.”

Trip shook his head. “For the sake of the exchange, you really have to call me something besides Commander, T’Pol. Trip would be nice.”

“Did you not once tell me that your friends call you Trip?” T’Pol reminded him.

“Yep.”

“Are a friend and a lover the same to you?”

“Not the same. . . although the best lovers are friends, you know.” Trip could tell his statement brought on confusion by the subtle change in expression that crossed T’Pol’s face. “Those that are avoid the Malcolm and Hoshi type of relationship.”

“But did you not tell me that they responded the way they do because of passion?” T’Pol inquired. “Do you not wish to feel passion for your lovers?”

Trip shook his head and responded, “There are many different types of passion, T’Pol.”

Regarding him slightly, T’Pol leaned forward and gently ran her index finger over his lips. “I shall look forward to exploring the various definitions of the term with you. . . Trip.”

Trip practically skipped the entire way back to the hotel.

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A/N: This is a silly, pointless little piece of fluff. You can thank a five hour drive and numerous hearings of the above mentioned song for the result. Oh, and guilt at the extreme amount of angst our friends are undergoing in a certain other story or two that is spiraling out of control in multiple chapter land.
A/N, II: Yeah, I kinda doubt Malcolm and Hoshi would act in this fashion-especially Malcolm. BUT, well, perhaps they were drunk.

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Two folks have made comments

I loved this, had me chuckling so much as I read it. Wonderful! Now you have done the spade work, got a nice foundation going, it would be a shame not to build on it. I would adore a sequel, the next step as it were, on Trip and T'Pol's voyage of discovery. Thank you so much for making such an excellent start. Ali D :~)

the hoshi and malcolm thing was soooo funny. (i'm giggling hysterically even as i write this) And the ending? Most definitely yummy!