Unfulfilled

Unfulfilled

By Samantha Quinn

Rating: Pg-13, Romance/Angst. Lots and lots of angst. **Future Fic.***
Codes: A/T and T/T. Although, I warn you-neither A/T fans nor T/T will like this story much. Although T/T-er’s will like it much more than A/T’ers, most likely.
A/N: I have watched the Expanse. I have heard the rumors of next season couplings and it depressed my plot gremlin. He and the angst muse got together and wrote this one. We apologize, but at least no one dies. ****FUSION AND STIGMA HAVE BEEN IGNORED!!*** Vulcans do mind melds in this universe. Spoilers: Expanse, some references to possible Trip characteristics in Season 3.

Part One

*****

My husband knows little about my people. He is not one of us. He is a human. I am a Vulcan. He believes the differences to be minimal.

He believes us to be no more different than humans who are adept at suppressing their feelings.

He is wrong, on both accounts.

Then, if he knew my people well, he would understand the significance of my calling him “my husband” and not “my bondmate.” Jonathan Archer would know that we are not truly bonded as my people traditionally do with their mates.
He waits for me now, in the bed we share while I sit in a separate room and concentrate on my meditation. My husband is an overly sexual being. Most humans are, I have been told. I knew of his persistence before our marriage. I did not prevent the ceremony.

Nor did I prevent the child that resulted from our union, Koval. Koval was conceived with relative ease. Both his physiology and his persona are primarily that of my people, a fact which causes my husband considerable amounts of distress. Many one sided arguments have been fought by my husband over that issue.

*******

“It’s a kite, Koval.”

“And you are not a full Vulcan, Koval.”

*******

The relationship with Koval causes my husband disappointment. My mate was very emotionally close with his own father and expects there to be a similar relationship with Koval.

I do not expect their relationship to ever be similar to that of my husband and his father. Indeed there will be more difficulties. Particularly when my son comes of an age when career choices need to be made. His father anticipates Starfleet. My husband calls it a “family tradition.” Unfortunately for him, my son longs to build. He has shown great interest in architecture. I doubt he will choose Starfleet as a career option.

Although perhaps he shall become an engineer.

The thought brings unwelcome pain. It is not an unexpected sensation. It is an irrational one, as a mere word should not be enough to cause such discomfort.
Unless that word is associated with Charles Tucker III.

He comes to visit often. Never does he come alone. No, when Charles visits his former Captain and his friend he is accompanied by his wife and son. Although three years older than Koval, Charles Tucker IV and my son spend a productive amount of time together. Their discussions range in topic from the childish comparisons of a Sehlat to a Terran creature known as a Doberman Pincher to highly theoretical discussions of quantum physics of which my son excels to the adolescent fascinations with Maggie Reed’s physique. They would not appreciate if they knew exactly how much of the latter conversations I hear; however, they frequently do not take into account my superior Vulcan hearing.

Regardless of the nature of the conversations, I am content that the humanity his father has strove to install in Koval has in fact been accomplished much more efficiently by Captain Tucker and his son.

****

“Mother, may I have permission to go fishing with Charlie and Trip?”

“Mother, I am only half Vulcan.”

****

I had relented. Although I had not questioned Koval, I later suspected that he had indeed sampled a portion of Captain Tucker’s cooking in the form of catfish. My son was surprisingly diligent in the consumption of his vegetables for many weeks after the fishing expedition. I suspected his diligence to be a form of penance.

The conversation is an easy memory, as it is the only time Koval has reminded me of his human half. Typically, he shuns the human side in favor of his Vulcan. I have never asked him to chose, nor has his father . . . yet, he has often rejected the human life. The exceptions being the time spent with young Charles.
Captain Tucker and my husband are pleased with the relationship between our children. The Captain has frequently employed the phrase, “like fathers, like sons” in reference to the similarity in their friendships to that of the Captain and my husband. I disagree. When observing my son in the company of Charles Tucker IV, I see a reaction similar to the one Captain Tucker invoked in me in my early years on the Enterprise. The elder Tucker presented me with many obstacles which challenged my strongly held Vulcan beliefs, as the younger Charles Tucker is doing with my son now. As they both appear to have heterosexual tendencies, however, their end shall not be the same.

My son shall have a bondmate, and not just a spouse.

Indeed, Koval reaches ever closer to the age in which I shall have to educate him on the manner of Vulcan bonding. Being twelve earth years, he has only two additional years of what my husband calls “blissful ignorance.” I have often disputed the logic of such a term. Yet, I find myself acknowledging the purpose of such a phrase as the impending confrontation between Koval and myself comes.

It is illogical to dread what has not yet passed. Yet, it is also illogical to attempt to postpone the inevitable. Twenty years ago, I could have ascertained which course was the more rational. My time with humans, and in particular, with Jonathan Archer, has polluted my ability to think logically.

Thus, I allow myself the time to contemplate and indeed dread the time of confrontation between myself and my son. I call it a confrontation, for when I explain to my son the process of bonding and the difference in a bondmate, he will know what I know, what all Vulcans know who encounter my husband and I. And he will ask of me the same question that has been asked of me by Ambassador Soval, V’Lar, Constable Skon and my parents.

He shall ask why I am not bonded to the man I call my husband and he calls father.

He shall ask why I did not form a telepathic link between my spouse and myself as is the custom for Vulcan mates. He shall inquire why I cannot sense his father’s presence while we are separated. He shall wonder why it means nothing to myself nor to Jonathan when our fingers caress in the fashion appropriate to Vulcans. He shall pontificate why my husband and I need to vocalize our thoughts whereas other bondmates share a linkage that requires no vocalization. Perhaps because he is our son he shall be spared the worst of it. Perhaps he shall not wonder why Jonathan and I share only our physical essence when we copulate whereas other Vulcan couples share physical and mental release. The vulgarity associated with imagining parents in the conjugal act is one shared by our species. I imagine our son shall be spared of the last thought. My memory recalls such a conversation Koval engaged in with Charles Tucker IV.

****

“I’m tellin’ ya, Koval, Mom and Dad were practically havin’ sex right there, on the couch when I walked in. It was the grossest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.”

“I am inclined to agree, as illogical as it may be.”

****

The conversation had been one that I was certain I was not supposed to be privy to. Both children had momentarily forgotten that the bedroom walls were composed of substances insufficient in blocking their voices from carrying. They are composed of a much lighter substance than that of starships or the walls of Starfleet Command of which they are accustomed. Still, I had considered their potential embarrassment and kept silent. Neither Jonathan nor Captain Tucker and his wife had been made aware of the contents of the conversation. I cling to the conversation fervently now, however, with the hope that the “queasiness” will prevent Koval from discovering the true horrific nature of what I have prevented his father from sharing.

Nonetheless, Koval shall discover truth of what I have done to his father, even if he never realizes the full magnitude. I do not understand how it is possible, yet all Vulcans Jonathan and I have encountered have known. In the beginning of our union, I was able to attribute it to the fact that Jonathan is human. I can no longer hide behind Jonathan’s species. Jonathan and I were the first official Vulcan-human coupling; we have not been the last. Once my people saw the fact that humans and Vulcans could bond, the lack of a bond in the case of Jonathan and myself became even more glaringly apparent. Vulcans have always been able to sense the bonds of others, my parents have informed me. For this reason, I am certain my son shall display the same trait.

What shall I tell my son when he asks why we are not bonded? Shall I tell him the truth? It is the most logical course of action. Yet, it shall undeniably cause him pain. I do not wish to cause my son pain. True, he shall learn to suppress the sensation of pain in time. . . Yet, he has not learned that skill entirely.
I need to be certain he can overcome pain before I cause him discomfort. My son has never truly faced pain before. Often in my people, it is necessary to overcome a source of pain of excruciating portions before being able to master the ability to suppress pain. Perhaps the knowledge of bonding shall do this for him. There is the possibility that my actions, a source of shame for most Vulcan families, will be valued as a learning tool. It is possible. It is also quite logical.
Logic. How I once believed it to be a perfect panacea.

***

“It is time to come home then, and marry, T’Pol.”

“It is the only logical solution, mother. A human will value the very characteristics I possess which would bring shame and dishonor to a Vulcan mate. I have changed too much to be bonded to a Vulcan male, mother. It is illogical to enter a union which has no chance of being successful. Thus, I cannot marry a Vulcan.”

******

The very logic I employed in determining my need to bond with a human was used as I determined which human to bond with. Logic dictated it be someone I had served on the Enterprise with. Logic also dictated I confine my search to the senior staff. Lieutenant Mayweather was not a possibility, as he had shown no interest in me. Doctor Phlox, while a friend, was not a possibility as he has three wives and Vulcans do require a monogamous partner.

A monogamous bondmate.

Lieutenant Commander Reed was also not a viable option. During the course of the Xindi Conflict, he had initiated and maintained a relationship with one of the female military commandos.

That left only Commander Tucker and Captain Archer. Both had given hints in the past of their attraction to me. Both were commanding, intelligent men suitable for bonding. The Xindi Conflict provided me with ample opportunity to observe both men’s personalities, strengths, and weaknesses. The Conflict had changed both Jonathan and Commander Tucker. The attack and ensuing conflict changed the Captain for the better. He became more focused and dedicated while he gained a true appreciation for how a Captain should behave.

Commander Tucker, on the other hand. . .

Doctor Phlox once noted that the human psyche is an interesting, if fragile, phenomenon. The death of his sister transformed Commander Tucker from a caring, compassionate, and gentle man to one consumed by anger, revenge, and hatred. The transition was a decidedly unpleasant one, not only for myself, but for Commander Tucker’s friends aboard the Enterprise. I recall well a conversation between Lieutenant Commander Reed and his future wife. They had been having lunch and my Vulcan hearing had heard considerable pain and concern in the armory officer’s voice.

****

“Malcolm, is everything okay? You haven’t eaten hardly a bite all day.”

“Not before he shot the child.”

********

Starfleet had placed Commander Tucker on probation after the investigation into the incident revealed the settlement to be a civilian one. The inclusion of children and exclusion of weapons present in the camp provided the necessary clues to warrant such an action. The Captain had been devastated. Devastated that not only had Commander Tucker potentially ruined his career, but hurt because “I never thought Trip would do something like this.”

My own grief was not something I anticipated. Yet there was no denying my feelings in the matter. I grieved for the child, for Commander Tucker, and for myself. I looked for signs of remorse, prodded for signs of internal pain. Yet I could see none. It caused me considerable distress. In retrospect, I now know that the feelings of distress had a much stronger reason behind them.

Commander Tucker did not go on away missions for three months following that incident. His first time off the ship was in the presence of myself and the Captain. Knowing my time of pon far was close, I knew I had to make a decision quickly. I studied their interactions, watched their responses, and monitored their emotions. Captain Archer, while retaining his humanity, demonstrated his passion while remaining calm. Commander Tucker’s passion was barely contained, threatening to spiral out of control. It became very obvious that Jonathan was the appropriate mate for myself. Commander Tucker was entirely too unpredictable and dangerous. Indeed, his xenophobic tendencies as demonstrated by his attitude towards the Xindi, would make him an unsuitable mate for a Vulcan. Or for anyone other than a human.

Again I experienced grief.

Jonathan and I began to “date” the evening we returned from the away mission. Our dinners became more intimate and our time in the Captain’s Mess with Commander Tucker became less frequent. I found myself lamenting the lack of his presence, but forced myself to ignore such sensations. They were illogical, after all. There was no reason for them. Jonathan and I soon announced our betrothal, and I contented myself with the knowledge that I was marrying a man who would not only permit, but indeed encourage me to experiment with the unknown, to satisfy my curiosity, and to refuse to settle for what has always been. In a completely opposite manner of Commander Tucker, space travel had transformed Jonathan into a more accepting man. Far from perfect, yet he was beginning to understand that the human way was not necessarily the best way. Commander Tucker showed no such understanding. Logic dictated that I marry Jonathan Archer.

My husband has a saying, “Love is not subject to the rules of logic.” He winks in my direction when he says it. He has no idea how strongly I know that phrase to be true.

I had timed the marriage ceremony to coincide with my first pon far. The ceremony- a Vulcan one-would take place exactly one week before the pon far would render me unable to attend duty. After Jonathan had explained the nature of a “honeymoon” with the insistence that we take part in a ritual, I had deemed it logical to arrange the pon far to coincide with the duration of said “honeymoon.” I would therefore be off duty for a lesser amount of time. Such precautions were not necessary, as the Xindi war was over by the time of our ceremony. Yet, I still saw the logic in “killing two birds with one stone,” to quote my husband. As it turned out, duty postponed our ceremony; my pon far could not be postponed.

Commander Tucker and I were sent to investigate the possibility of Romulan interference on a Class M planet just outside of the Delphic expanse two days before the ceremony was to take place. The Romulans had provided increasing interference in our plans since the end of the Xindi Conflict. We had no way of knowing of the impending War with the Romulans. Upon arriving on the planet, we were promptly ambushed and placed in a holding cell. Miraculously, I never saw our captors, although perhaps Commander Tucker did.

The pon far came just as it was scheduled. I held out telling Commander Tucker what was wrong. Jonathan and the Enterprise would save us. I was certain.

They did not come in time.

****

“It’s your time of pon far, isn’t it?”

“I won’t let that happen to ya, T’Pol. You’re my friend, and the love of my best friend’s life. I’m here and if the Enterprise doesn’t show up in time, I’ll help you.”

****

He helped me, most efficiently. I am thankful to Kov for keeping in touch with Commander Tucker. I later expressed my gratitude for Kov’s assistance by naming my son Koval. I have never asked, but I cannot help but wonder if Commander Tucker knows the significance behind the name of his son’s best friend. Jonathan did not entirely like the name. He believed it to sound too much like Soval. Still, I managed to convince Jonathan that we would not have been mated had it not been for Soval’s interference.

We would have been bonded, had it not been for Commander Tucker’s interference.

The Enterprise, it turned out, came a week after my pon far had subsided. The night of our return, Commander Tucker came to see me.

***

“T’Pol. . . I just wanted to let you know, your secret is safe with me.”

“T’Pol. . . Jon’s my friend. No matter how you feel for me. . . Or how I might feel for you, I won’t be with you. Not now. He’s fallen in love with you. I won’t hurt him that way. Ya have to marry him, T’Pol. . . I won’t be able to live with myself if you don’t.”

***

Knowing that Commander Tucker would not have me, I continued with my plan to marry Jonathan. He was delighted to hear me desire a human wedding in contrast to the Vulcan one I had advocated previously. He would not have been as delighted if he had known the truth behind my reasoning.

Vulcan marital ceremonies require a melding of the minds. Had I melded with Jonathan, and became his bondmate, he would have seen the truth. He would have seen the man who truly is my th’y’la. My circumstances required a human husband even more so now than before. Marrying Jonathan and remaining unbonded was the only logical alternative.

As Jonathan Archer kissed the bride, I knew my logic had failed me.

I shall rise now, and go to my husband. There is no sense in reliving the past. I shall wait for the confrontation with Koval for the time in which it is due. I have two more years to determine how to tell him that I am not bonded with his father because his father’s best friend is my th’y’la. It is apparent that I should not try to postpone such a conversation for a time in which he shall be able to suppress the feelings of emotional pain.

I am not entirely certain any Vulcan shall be able to possess the ability to be able to do so. If they can, I envy them.

xxxxxxxxxx

A/N: I may add to this-Perhaps we need Trip’s POV. Or Jon’s. Or both. But for now, this is all there is. A/N: No, no-the Trip we know and love wouldn’t kill a child in cold blood-but, if "The Expanse" is any indication, the Trip we know and love is about to be thrown out an airlock. I hope I’m wrong. But I didn’t like what I saw.

******************

Continued in Part Two

Back to Fan Fiction Main Menu

Have a comment to make about this story? Do so in the Trip Fan Fiction forum at the HoTBBS!

Eight hardy souls have made comments

Angsty indeed! but still T/T at heart. I could see this happening. Nice piece.

Perhaps TPTB have an arc that includes a fall and redemption? Connor would play that so well. I'm an optimist, but your pessimism is well founded. Your story is so plausible it hurts.

This is brilliant! I loved it though it was achingly sad on a number of levels. So beautifully written. I do hope you will make this the first of a series so that we get the chance to see the story from Trip's viewpoint. Maybe also Jon's. The neat thing would be to then do the story from Koval's perspective with a slow dawning as he puts two and two together. That would be neatness personified. I loved this so much, thank you for writing such a great story. Ali D :~)

Knowing that the arc is present and could happen makes this story so plausible. Her heart belongs to Trip but her duty commands her to be with Archer, so heartbreaking but completely logical on her part.

It would be nice for this to be the starting point to a continuing series with Koval learning what has happened and making him wonder about his family relationship with his father, Archer, and his mother.

WOW! This was incredibly beautiful and painfully sad. and yet you can so see this happening.

Lord... this fanfic needs a sequel, sorely.

Lord... this fanfic needs a sequel, sorely. Fantastic angst.

Wow, this was enthralling! This was entirely believable, and like you, I don't wish to see Trip take off in this direction. But I can see it happening. Though I really can't see T'Pol marrying Archer, logic be damned. Or maybe that's just me *refusing* to see it. ;) Great job!!