Beyond the Rainbow

Beyond the Rainbow

By ShouldKnowBetter

Rating: PG13

Summary: Various unrelated incidents relating to the Tucker family over the century or so following The Rainbow's Foot.
If you haven't read that one, you probably haven't read the series; it starts with A Logical Proposal.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the characters, the Star Trek franchise and the universe. I just use them for my own private, non-profit making amusement.

Author’s Notes:
1. A couple of people were kind enough to express an interest in what happened to Trip and T’Pol after their decision to live together in ‘The Rainbow’s Foot’. I’m sad enough to know some of what happened so here it is.
2. The timescales given before each section are relative to events in ‘The Rainbow’s Foot’
3. This is mostly very fluffy and very silly, but bear in mind that it covers a period of just over a hundred years so character death is inevitable.
4. This ignores Season 2 apart from a vague reference to the history in ‘First Flight’.

One day later:

T’Pol had not expected the adjustment to living on Earth to be easy, however much she loved her human. She had even foreseen that Tucker’s children would cause problems once the novelty of having two aliens in the house wore off and the reality of having to share their father set in. And that was without knowing if it would prove possible to raise a Vulcan child amongst humans without causing T’Pril long-term damage. What she hadn’t anticipated was that trouble would start the very day after Branek left, when Tucker brought the children home from school and Charlie completely ignored her, disappearing upstairs and slamming his bedroom door.

“What is wrong?” She squirmed around in Tucker’s arms from where he had pinned her firmly against him while he nuzzled her neck to find that he had one eye on the stairs.

“Dunno.” He shrugged, not looking very much older than his son. “He’s not talking. What’s he said to you, Katie?”

The girl emerged from the kitchen with a glass of fruit juice and a strange vegetable. “Charlie’s a horrid little boy and I hate him. What’s this?”

“It is a plomeek,” T’Pol responded politely. “Why is Charlie horrid?”

“He shoved me when I asked why he was sulking. Are we having this for dinner?”

Tucker groaned and hid his face in T’Pol’s hair. “Tell me we’re not.”

“The plomeek is a nutritious vegetable containing many of the trace elements required by both human and Vulcan physiology. We are having it for dinner.”

“I hate you.”

“I believe you will find, Charles, that you left me in charge of providing nourishment whilst I have ‘nothing better to do with myself’.”

“I thought you’d do salad.”

“I spent some time today with V’Mir, the doctor for the Vulcan mission on Earth. She was kind enough to further my culinary education.”

“I hate her too.”

“Then you will go hungry. Katie, do you have homework or would you care to learn how to prepare plomeek broth?”

The two females retreated into the kitchen leaving Tucker to grumble loudly and to no effect then to investigate his son’s bad temper, but Charlie still wasn’t talking. He also refused to eat even when tempted with ice cream which left Tucker seriously worried, particularly when his offer to read to the boy was rejected. He read to the two girls instead but T’Pol took note of the lines of strain around her t’hy’la’s eyes and decided that direct action was necessary. She left the trio curled up together downstairs and rapped gently on Charlie’s door, entering when there was no response. The boy glowered up at her from the bed in a fashion she knew very well. “Go away.”

“I believe that would not be in the best interests of any of us.”

“I don’t want you here.”

Fortunately T’Pol had anticipated receiving such a comment and was undaunted by it. “Why not?”

“We were better off before you came.”

“In what way?” He scowled and dropped his head back to study the book in his lap, not answering. “Because your father spent more time with you?” He shook his head reluctantly. “Because you do not like me?” Again a reluctant headshake that left T’Pol confused; those were the two reasons she had expected to encounter. “Then how was your life better?” He muttered something that even her sensitive hearing could not catch. “I beg your pardon?”

He glared up at her then looked down again. “I said it was better at school.”

“I do not understand.”

“They don’t believe me.”

“Who does not believe what?” Perhaps one should not expect lucid answers from an eight year old but she trusted that T’Pril would not become so ambiguous in her use of language.

“The kids at school.” Charlie still had his head in the book but now he sounded miserable rather than belligerent. “They don’t believe that you’re my new mom.”

“I am not.” The blond head jerked up, blue eyes so unhappy that T’Pol did not hesitate to seat herself on the edge of the bed, not too close in case Charlie was offended but close enough to offer comfort if he required it. “I am not married to your father and so I am not your step-mother.”

“But you’re gonna stay with us, aren’t you? Dad really likes having you here and …”

“I am most attached to your father. I have every intention of remaining. What exactly did you tell the other children, Charlie?”

“That my new mom was a Vulcan. Dad said it wasn’t a secret anymore 'cos your dad was OK with it and so …”

“You were not wrong to mention the subject, Charlie. The other children did not believe you?”

“No. They said Vulcans were real horrid and didn’t like humans and wouldn’t wanna come live with us. And then one of the teachers overheard and told me not to tell lies.”

“Since I am here, they are clearly incorrect.” She regarded the boy thoughtfully. “I see that we must prove them wrong, Charlie.”

“How?” He looked abruptly much happier.

“If you will permit, I will escort you and Katie to school tomorrow. I feel that it would benefit T’Pril to spend a limited amount of time at your school. Perhaps I may speak to one of the teachers on the subject.”

He grinned. “You should see Mrs Radcliff.”

“I will be sure to ask for her.”

The book fell to the bed. “I’m hungry.”

“There is plenty of plomeek broth remaining. Alternatively,” since his expression of disgust exceeded his father’s, “a sandwich may be more appropriate.”

The grin returned and he surprised T’Pol by giving her a quick hug as he headed for the door. “And ice cream?”
“You must ask your father. I suggest,” the Vulcan woman added as she followed the boy to the door, “that you also allow him to read to you or he will become most distressed.”

All in all, it was a satisfactory end to her first human domestic crisis. T’Pol even felt a certain sense of anticipation at her forthcoming discussion with Charlie’s disbelieving schoolteacher. Then there were Charles’ affectionate demonstrations of just how much he appreciated her help. It was really a most satisfactory outcome.

Four weeks later:

The yeoman on duty had seen the Vulcan woman before and there had certainly been enough gossip about Commander Tucker and his new girlfriend that she was sure who this must be, although the indifference in the dark eyes surveying her made the girl speculate on how unhappy the poor man must be. Perhaps in a short while, once he’d got over the novelty, he would be glad to be consoled by someone a lot more friendly. Cheered by the thought, she managed a bright, helpful smile. “Can I help you, ma’am?”

“I have an appointment with Commander Tucker.”

“Do you, ma’am?” She made a show of checking his schedule. “I’m afraid there’s nothing showing here.”

T’Pol wasn’t forced to respond to the impertinence because Tucker stuck his head out of the door at that moment. “Sally, have you …?” Then he saw T’Pol and grinned, coming across to hug her – or to attempt to since she moved out of range as he approached. He scowled. “So you’re done then?”

“As you see.”

“Yeah.” He gave her a long look and sighed. “Sally, if anyone wants me I’ll be at lunch.”

He grabbed one of T’Pol’s hands and pulled her down the corridor, ignoring her less than fervent attempt to pull free while the yeoman watched them happily. Very soon now Commander Tucker would be so pleased to have someone to look after him properly.

Tucker halted as soon as they had turned the corner and pulled T’Pol into his arms, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

For a second she remained stiff then nestled against him. There was no one within range of her excellent hearing and no longer any particularly good reason why she had to cope with minor annoyances by herself. “That yeoman is attracted to you.”

“That’s why you’re so angry I could hear you from my office? Hell, honey, isn’t it about time …”

She raised her head from his shoulder to glare at him. “I was merely making an observation.”

“Oh, yeah?” He bent his head for a long searching kiss. “You’re one jealous Vulcan and you know it.”

“I have reason to be jealous?”

“No!” He released her as the sound of footsteps became audible even to his hearing and gave her a shove down the corridor. “Let’s go get some lunch.”

“I understood that you were intending to visit the gym.”

“I think this calls for food.”

“I am not hungry.”

“You don’t eat enough.”

“I do not require further nourishment at this time. Since moving into your house, Charles, I have gained a considerable amount of weight.”

He chuckled and slipped an arm around her waist for a squeeze. “Yeah, you’re real cuddly again.” The fact that she glared only made him laugh. Perhaps a firm push would have better made her point.

The large mess hall at Starfleet HQ was crowded but Tucker found them an empty table and unloaded his tray, picking up his fork. “So talk.”

“On what subject?”

“Hell, honey, they really made you pissed, didn’t they? About your interview with Starfleet this morning.”

T’Pol glared some more. It was pleasant to share one’s life with someone. Unfortunately it was also annoying when one’s partner assumed that he knew what was upsetting one – and even more annoying when he was correct. “I had a number of separate interviews. There appeared to be little coordination between the individuals who conducted them.”

“Sounds familiar.” Tucker took in the pointed stare and waved his fork in encouragement – silent encouragement. He was learning.

“I was initially interviewed by someone who described herself as interested in the ‘softer’ aspects of my application. She enquired,” and T’Pol’s tone dripped sarcasm, “as to whether I had considered the implications of working amongst humans.” Tucker winced. “I pointed out that I had served amongst humans on Enterprise for three years. She seemed unaware of the fact. She then enquired into my reasons for requesting a civilian post within Starfleet. I told her that the matter was personal although she attempted to pursue the subject in a most impolite manner. When she persisted I was forced to state that it was none of her business.”

“It went well then.” That earned Tucker a glare and he reminded himself that silence had a lot going for it.

“At this point I was asked whether I would live in the Vulcan compound, although it was made clear that this was not considered acceptable. When I stated that I already had accommodation in the city, the woman again questioned my reason for leaving Vulcan.”

“You should have told her about me. She was just curious.”

“I see no reason why our relationship should affect my ability to obtain work.”

“Fair point. What happened next?”

“I was then interviewed by two others – separately – both, I was led to believe, members of Starfleet’s research division.”

“You weren’t sure?”

“Since both failed to explore my scientific background, I had no opportunity to judge their own expertise. Neither did they fully explain their position within Starfleet. Both independently concluded that I should be seen by another individual who duly arrived. This person tried very hard to ensure that I would not accept a job should I be offered one.”

“I thought Starfleet would be falling over themselves to get a Vulcan-trained scientist on their books!”

“Evidently not. That interview concluded with the wish that I would eventually find a job which would suit me.”

“Hell. No wonder you were pissed.”

“I have not yet finished. A fifth individual then approached me – after a considerable interval during which I was kept waiting without explanation. He identified himself as head of Starfleet research.”

“Admiral Nureyov. Good guy.”

“Perhaps. He apologised for the confusion and indicated that he had intended to interview me himself, although why he had failed to do so was not explained. He indicated that there were several posts that could be suitable for someone of my experience although he provided few details. I then left.”

“Can’t say I blame you, honey.” Tucker reached a hand across the table. “So what now? I don’t mind you staying home but you’ll be bored rigid.”

“I concur. I propose to approach the universities.”

“They won’t have the facilities you need.”

“Compromise has always been necessary in our relationship.”

“Not over our work.”

Illogically calmed by having recounted her morning’s activities, T’Pol allowed her fingers to curl more tightly around Tucker’s. “I would prefer to live with you, Charles, than to continue with my research.”

With deep surprise she saw the glint of tears in his eyes. “Hell,” he mumbled, “d’you have to say nice things to me in the middle of the mess hall?”

“It seemed appropriate.”

“Commander Tucker, T’Pol.”

He blinked furiously as T’Pol snatched her hand from his and looked up. “Admiral Forrest.”

The man nodded cheerfully to her as Tucker scrambled hastily to his feet. “May I join you?”

“Sure.” Tucker gestured vaguely to the table. “Can I get you anything, sir?”

“You can get me your application for your captain’s exams,” the man said severely and turned to T’Pol. “I was pleased to hear that you two were back together, T’Pol.” He sounded sincere although she had been under the impression that he had not approved of them in the past. “Perhaps you can convince this idiot here that promotion won’t stop him being an engineer.”

“I have rarely found him persuadable.”

“Hey!”

“So,” the commodore ignored the protest, “I hear we might be honoured with your presence, T’Pol.”

“That seems unlikely.”

“Interview didn’t go well,” Tucker explained. “T’Pol wasn’t impressed.”

Forrest frowned. “I can’t believe we’d let such an opportunity slip. Leave it with me. I like to keep an eye on Enterprise’s old crew – even if they don’t appreciate it,” and he scowled at Tucker who squirmed uncomfortably. “I’ll see you both at the reunion.” He stood and pointed an accusing finger at the engineer. “Don’t forget those exams, commander. There’s a board coming up in a couple of months. I expect to see your name on the list.”

He left and T’Pol turned an enquiring look on her human. “Don’t you start nagging.”

“I will not, but the commodore’s frustration appears well founded. You are long over-due for promotion.”

“I don’t wanna be a captain!”

“Why not?”

“Uh … dunno.”

T’Pol sighed. “I am not surprised, Charles, that Charlie is incapable of rational conversation. When must your application be submitted?”

“No!”

“It is the logical progression.”

“But …”

“We will discuss the matter later.”

“Aw, hell.”

Six weeks later:

Reed arrived purposely late at the Enterprise reunion. He would have been happy to duck entirely but unfortunately everyone knew that his ship was at Jupiter Station for a layover and he would have been scolded by a very important ambassador if he failed to show up, so late was the best he could do. The scene that met his eyes was the usual depressing one of people enjoying themselves amongst a crowd of children, the number of which seemed to increase every year. Why Enterprise’s former crew felt the need to multiply Reed had no idea but he didn’t like having to mix with their progeny.

The first pleasant surprise of the day occurred when he spotted a shapely figure in conversation with Admiral Forrest. He lurked until the two broke apart then stepped in. “Sub-Commander T’Pol, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I was obliged to attend,” she said calmly. “I was told that you rarely attend these functions, Captain Reed.”

“I certainly try to avoid them! Are you visiting Earth, sub-commander?”

“I no longer hold that rank, captain. You may address me as T’Pol. As to my presence here … I am about to take up a post with Starfleet Research.”

“Really? I thought you’d settled on Vulcan.”

“As did I.”

“Well, since you’re here, T’Pol,” long buried fantasies were stirring, “perhaps you’d do me the honour of visiting my ship, the Pegasus? Constellation class, warp 7, high yield phase cannon …”

“So I have been told.”

“You could stay for dinner. The catering’s not up to Enterprise standard but it’s adequate.”

“Mother!” Reed frowned at the small child who had rushed up to T’Pol; a husband and daughter hadn’t figured highly in his plans for the former science officer. “Mother, please, you must come.”

“T’Pril, you must act with greater decorum. Please greet Captain Reed who once served on Enterprise.”

“Good day, Captain Reed. Mother, I wish to show you something.”

T’Pol ignored the girl in favour of politeness. “Captain Reed, this is my daughter, T’Pril.”

“You’re married?” he asked gloomily and felt a flicker of hope as she shook her head.

“I am divorced. Yes, T’Pril, what do you wish to show me?”

“It is a baby creature like my tiger, only alive. Please, mother, can we keep one? Ambassador Archer said that we might. Look, Katie has one.”

She pointed to where the blond girl was approaching, a beagle puppy cradled carefully in her hands. “T’Pol, have you seen Uncle Jon’s puppies? Aren’t they cute? Can we keep this one?”

Reed was frowning, a little puzzled. “Isn’t that one of Trip’s kids?” he muttered in T’Pol’s ear and was rewarded with a faintly amused look before the woman turned back to the two hopeful girls.

“What does your father say on the matter, Katie?”

“Oh, dad’s mean! He says we wouldn’t have time to look after a pet. But look, T’Pol, she’s so sweet and pretty. Wouldn’t you like to hold her?”

“I would not.”

“Damn it,” Reed jumped as the muttered comment came from the other side of T’Pol, “has Jon brought those puppies here? I’ll kill him.”

“Daddy, we can have one this time, can’t we? T’Pol stays home so she can look after it during the day.”

“Yes, Uncle Charles, I think we should have a live creature to care for. It would be educational.”

“No!” Reed was staring in shock, particularly since Tucker had his arm around the Vulcan’s waist. “T’Pol starts work Monday. There’ll be no one home to look after a puppy. You’ll just have to go play with them at Uncle Jon’s.” Two sorrowful pairs of eyes stared upwards, one blue, one brown. “No! Go take it back to its mother, Katie,” they turned away, “and tell Uncle Jon I’ll be seeing him later! Damn that man,” he added once the children were out of earshot, “he does this to me every time he has a new litter. Hay, Malcolm, wanna ship’s dog?”

“No.” The confused Englishman looked between Tucker and T’Pol, not that he had to look far because they were pressed together. “Uh … did I miss an announcement? You two …?”

“Yup.” Tucker wrapped his other arm around T’Pol and squeezed hard just for the hell of it. “T’Pol moved in a few weeks back.”

“Forty two days.”

“That long, huh?”

“It merely seems longer.” She was extracting herself from his embrace: one arm was acceptable, public hugs were not. “Captain Reed has offered me a tour of the Pegasus.”

“Has he?” Tucker’s eyes looking over T’Pol’s head at the other man were wicked. “I helped design her.”

“I know. I was intending to note all the design flaws during the tour.”

“Hey!”

“Captain Reed has also asked me to dine with him.”

“Oh no, you don’t, not without me. I’m not gonna let you have dinner with star ship captains this time round.”

“You are possessive.”

“Too right. Gonna ask me along, Malcolm?”

“Certainly not! Particularly,” and the disappointed man scowled at the couple in front of him, “if you’re going to cuddle the whole time.”

Tucker only laughed and hugged T’Pol again. Reed couldn’t help but notice that she let the engineer hold her for some moments before pushing him away.

Three months later:

Tucker halted the ground car outside the Florida house and glanced rather uncertainly at T’Pol who looked calmly back. Katie and Charlie had no such inhibitions, tumbling out as soon as the car was stationary and rushing towards the house although T’Pol held out a hand to T’Pril as the girl would have followed. “Please wait for me, T’Pril.” She pouted but obediently kept her seat and her mother turned back to Tucker. “T’Pril and I could still go elsewhere.”

“Misses the point,” he responded with unusual touch of dryness in his voice. “You’re here to meet mom.”

“She made it clear that she would prefer not to do so.”

Tucker grimaced and slid across the seat to pull her to him, pressing his face into her neck. “She’ll get over it. She’ll have to.”

“Mother, if I may not leave the car, may I have a hug too?”

They separated, Tucker at least smiling again although T’Pol turned a faintly reproving look on her daughter. “Now that you are growing older, T’Pril, you must remember that it is not appropriate to embrace in public.”

“But you and Uncle Charles have many hugs!”

“That,” she was told severely, “is because Commander Tucker is a most improper person. You must not always follow his example.”

“You heard your mom, honey.” Tucker jumped out of the car and lifted the Vulcan girl out to award her an illicit hug. “Don’t do what I do, do what I tell you.”

“I believe that is very unfair, Uncle Charles.”

He kissed the tip of her nose and set her down to hold out a hand to T’Pol which she ignored although she took one of T’Pril’s. “At least Great Uncle Bill’s here. That’s his car.”

“It is … strange.”

“Mid-20th century road vehicle. He restored it himself.”

“Was it not such vehicles that contributed to the pollution of your planet?”

“Yup.”

“Yet he is allowed to maintain one?”

He moved over and flipped up the hood. “Same power source as a modern ground car.” He patted it affectionately. “I helped him build it. Well, I pretended to help but I was only a kid so I probably just got in the way.”

“Charles Tucker III, take your hands off the love of my life!” They swung around and T’Pol found herself facing an elderly human wearing a very familiar grin. “You must be T’Pol and a fine figure of a woman you are too. Now make an old man happy and give your Uncle Bill a kiss.”

He was so like her own human that she almost considered it. “We are not related.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

T’Pol reflected with surprising equanimity that if his uncle was any example, she was going to have to endure being teased well into Charles’ old age.

“You leave her alone, Uncle Bill.” Tucker’s arm moved her firmly out of range. “And you stay out of his way, darling. He’s a dirty old man.”

William Tucker chuckled and beckoned for them to follow him towards the house. “I’ll bet T’Pol’s nearer my age than yours, boy.” She caught Tucker’s glare and let him see her amusement as the old man smiled at the child with them. “And you must be T’Pril.”

“Yes, I must be for we have no other Vulcan children living with us.” T’Pril’s initial shyness around humans had long since worn off. “What may I call you, please?”

“I think you’d better call me Uncle Bill, young lady, as long as your mother doesn’t object.”

“No, she will not object because she says I must call Commander Tucker ‘Uncle Charles’. Although,” she concluded with a frown, “I must call Uncle Jon ‘Ambassador Archer’. Mother is not very logical, Uncle Bill.” The old man was still laughing as he led them into the house.

T’Pol dropped behind, stooping to pick up T’Pril. She had largely lost the habit of carrying the child around but she did not want the girl to make one of her precipitous entrances; it was certainly not that she needed the reassurance of the sturdy little body in her arms.

Katie and Charlie had been chatting to their grandmother but they broke off as the rest of the party entered the living room, mainly because she immediately took a step away from them.

“Hey, mom.” Tucker tried to sound casual as he stooped to kiss the proffered cheek but no one was really fooled. “You OK?” Marjorie Tucker didn’t respond, looking past her son to where T’Pol had halted in the doorway. He sighed and tried to make the best of it. “Mom, this is T’Pol and her daughter, T’Pril.”

“Mrs Tucker.” T’Pol moved to Tucker’s side, very aware of his discomfort and the human woman’s disapproval: it kept even T’Pril silent.

“Well,” William Tucker said cheerfully, “why don’t I take the children outside while you get acquainted?” He caught T’Pol’s eye and she nodded, setting T’Pril on the ground. It was better if none of the children were witness to this scene.

“Mom,” Tucker said firmly once they were alone, “there’s no point being annoyed. It’s not gonna change anything.”

She finally removed her frigid gaze from T’Pol and raised faded blue eyes to her son. “You promised me ten years ago that you weren’t going to have anything more to do with her. Why did you lie to me, Charles?”

“I didn’t, mom! We thought we’d be OK apart. We weren’t.”

“Then that little girl isn’t yours?”

“Mom, that’s just damned insulting to the both of us!”

“I always hoped that you and Natalie would get back together.”

“That was never gonna happen!”

“She was such a nice sweet girl.”

“No, mom, she wasn’t. I should never have married her.” He reached out to pull T’Pol close. “What should have happened is that T’Pol and I didn’t split up. We’ve put that right now and nothing’s gonna change it.”

“What about children?”

“We’ve got three, mom. That’s enough.”

“You always wanted a large family.”

He glared at her, controlling his temper, and T’Pol said quietly, “I regret that I cannot bear Charles a child but it is not possible.”

Marjorie sniffed and Tucker abruptly laughed, hugging T’Pol to him. “Would you really risk another T’Pril, honey?”

“She is no trouble.”

“She’s one big packet of trouble,” but he was still laughing and she knew there was no censure in the comment. “Mom,” he sobered as he turned back to his mother although he didn’t relax his grip on T’Pol, “the decision’s made, we’re together and we’re staying that way. I don’t want us to fall out over this but …” He broke off shrugging and Marjorie’s eyes widened.

“You would deny your own mother for that woman?”

“Her name’s T’Pol, mom. And yeah, that’s how much she means to me.”

Marjorie burst dramatically into tears and fled from the room.

After he had been fortified with several shots of bourbon courtesy of Great Uncle Bill and a lecture on filial duty courtesy of T’Pol, Tucker went to try and reason with his mother while the children played in the large garden and William Tucker entertained T’Pol with a selection of his favourite jazz and reprehensible stories about his great nephew. He grew quiet after a time, sipping his own bourbon reflectively. “You love Trip very much, don’t you, my dear?”

She looked steadily back for a moment, considering possible answers but only one seemed appropriate. “Yes.”

“He’s a good boy.” Tucker was forty-six. “Crazy, kind, stubborn, impulsive to a fault, but a good boy.”

“Yes.”

“You won’t care for an old man’s opinion, I guess, but I think you’re right for him. He needs someone to lean on. You need someone to make you laugh.”

“I would not disagree with you.”

“Good.” He noted the direction of her gaze towards a large framed picture that decorated a side table. “That’s Trip at his graduation from Starfleet.”

“He looks most aggressive.” Tucker always looked aggressive in official photographs but the look his younger self was directing at the camera would have melted hull plating.

“Thinking about his daddy, I reckon.” William gave T’Pol a shrewd look. “Trip ever tell you about his daddy?”

“I know that he is deceased.”

“Pity.” The old man was shaking his head. “Thought maybe with you he might have been able to talk about it. So I’ll tell you – might help you understand a thing or two.” He took a deep pull from the glass in his hand and appeared to go off at a tangent. “I was born only a few years after your folks made contact with Earth. We were still in a mess then. God alone knows how Zephram Cochrane ever made it into space with a working warp drive.” He met T’Pol’s eyes, his own deeply serious. “I don’t hold a grudge against your people, T’Pol. They helped us big time in those early days. It’s the later generations who forget. Even Jonathan Archer. I know Trip won’t hear a word against the ambassador but he’s biased. I’m older and I remember. I remember the genetically engineered viruses, radiation poisoning, chemical pollutants … You name it and we’d released it on our poor planet.” He shook his head. “Even forty years ago we’d not finished clearing up the mess we’d spent two centuries creating although life was good enough for most people by then. My nephew, Trip’s daddy, he was one of those doing the cleaning. His suit failed one day when he was surveying a radioactive area to see if it was safe to move a de-contamination unit in.” William drained the glass and illogically T’Pol refilled it for him. “You’d have thought we’d have found a cure for all the evils we’d created but Charlie got too high a dose of radiation. He died three days later. Left Marjorie and four little kids. Trip was eight, old enough to understand, old enough to remember his daddy dying. Not surprising he can’t talk about it. I was glad when he joined Starfleet. Gave him the chance to feel he was making a difference. Particularly once he’d met Jonathan Archer. That was a good thing.” He looked over at T’Pol again. “You’re another.”

She was thinking of a young boy very like Charlie waking in the night and finding his father no longer there to comfort him. “Thank you for telling me, Mr Tucker.”

With a switch as rapid as any of his great nephew’s he chuckled. “I like you, T’Pol. If I was thirty years younger I’d cut Trip out and we could run away together.”

“Hey!” Tucker’s outraged exclamation made them both look up. “You find your own girl, Uncle Bill.” He pulled T’Pol to her feet and she let him embrace her, even going so far as to put her arms around him. Despite the teasing tone he was upset and William Tucker hardly counted as the general public.

“Your mother was obdurate?”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his face against her hair. “Best leave, I guess.”

“I will leave with T’Pril.” He started to protest and she stopped him with her fingers. “Charles, you cannot deprive your mother of your company and that of her grandchildren simply because she does not accept me. T’Pril and I will spend the day elsewhere. You will remain here.”

He grimaced, looking doubtfully down at her. “You don’t mind?”

“You know I do not.”

“Thank you.” He hugged her tightly again. “I’m real sorry about this.”

“We should consider it fortunate that not all of your family object.”

“I guess,” although he protested when T’Pol kissed Great Uncle Bill’s cheek on leaving. The old man really was very much like his great nephew and she would always be grateful for the insight he had given her.

Fortunately the rest of Tucker’s family accepted T’Pol with cheerful good will, but Marjorie Tucker never became reconciled to her son’s relationship with a Vulcan although T’Pol ensued that he continued to visit. It didn’t please Marjorie to know that she shared a passionate dislike of the pairing with T’Pol’s mother.

Five months later:

Janice took the three children out into the small yard to play as soon as they’d all finished breakfast: it was the safest course of action. When her cousin winked at her and said that if she wanted a free bed then she could look after the kids Sunday morning because he and T’Pol needed a lie in, she knew exactly what the couple intended. Janice was not prepared to explain to a curious Vulcan child why her mother needed additional sleep. She had a suspicion that Katie did know – at least in principle – what her father and T’Pol were getting up to but she didn’t want to put that to the test either. So they watered the plants and played ball and helped T’Pril with her physical exercises in all innocence until the doorbell rang. Janice swore under her breath, mentally cursed Trip for being a randy skunk and grabbed Charlie who would have scooted to answer the door. “I’ll go.” She shut her ears to anything that might be going on in the downstairs bedroom and wrenched open the door to take a step back as T’Pol glared at her. The few seconds it took to realise that, while the Vulcan on the doorstep did look remarkably like her cousin’s lover, she was considerably older and a lot fiercer weren’t the most comfortable in Janice’s existence. Then things really went downhill.

“I assume,” the woman stated with careful diction and evident satisfaction, “that you have already taken my daughter’s place with that man.”

“No!” Not that T’Pol hadn’t mistakenly thought that at first, but only because she didn’t have the wit to see that Trip adored her. “I’m Trip’s cousin.”

“Whom?”

“I believe that Trip is an alternative name for Commander Tucker.” Janice hadn’t even seen the male Vulcan until he spoke; his wife had that effect on many people. He inclined his head politely to the human woman. “My name is Branek, this is T’Pen, she who is my wife. As you may have deduced, T’Pol is our daughter. Is she here at this time?”

“Yeah.” Oh lord, the parents. They weren’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow. It was the main reason she hadn’t made a fuss about minding the kids while Trip and T’Pol spent the morning in bed. Janice had reckoned they deserved some fun before that ordeal. “Only … she’s not really available right now.”

One of T’Pen’s eyebrows climbed disdainfully. “I will wait.”

Branek’s eyes met Janice’s and she thought she saw an apology there. “If we may?”

“Sure. I guess … you’d better come in.”

She would have liked to hustle them through the hall as quickly as possible but Vulcans were far too dignified to be hustled and even human hearing caught the muffled sound of two people thoroughly enjoying themselves in blissfully ignorance of the fact that they had guests. T’Pen stopped outside the bedroom door her expression growing rigid with horror, then before Janice could stop her she yanked open the door allowing human as well as Vulcan to hear the two inside gasping in the pleasurable aftermath of extremely good sex. “T’Pol,” the elder woman’s voice was pregnant with fury, “what are you doing with that human?”

T’Pol raised her head from Tucker’s shoulder, expression defiant: it was a little much to expect Vulcan composure and reticence at such a time. “I am having sexual intercourse with him.”

“With a human!”

“Mother, you were made aware that I was living with Charles. Surely you did not expect our relationship to be celibate?”

Others had been attracted by the raised voices and the smallest pushed through curiously. “Good morning, grandfather. Good morning, grandmother. Why are mother and Uncle Charles not wearing their pyjamas?”

Branek retained enough presence of mind to close the door although until his dying day Tucker remained convinced that the Vulcan had winked at him as he did so.

Tucker made the cowardly suggestion that he should stay in bed until T’Pol’s parents had left but that was treated with the scorn it deserved so he had to accompany a now irritatingly calm Vulcan into the lion’s den. Fortunately the scene they found was remarkably peaceful. Everyone was in the garden again, Janice admittedly still looking traumatised but the children were chatting happily to Branek and there was no sign of T’Pen. T’Pol’s father looked up as they emerged and dealt promptly with Tucker’s nervous survey. “T’Pen decided to return to the Vulcan compound.”

T’Pol slipped gracefully into a chair. “I trust my mother has recovered from her distress?”

“Distress is an emotion that has never visited your mother, T’Pol, for which she has my respect. Her anger, however, is another matter.”

Tucker groaned and slumped down beside T’Pol. “This is really gonna screw us for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s assessment is of T’Pril. I have yet to notice that she is harmed by your … intimacy.”

Tucker groaned again. “How the hell could anyone think we weren’t sleeping together?”

“T’Pen has little knowledge of human sexuality. Nor,” Branek added after a thoughtful pause, “of Vulcan.”
Janice fled before her hysterics got the better of her.

T’Pen accompanied T’Pol and T’Pril to the girl’s assessment, oblivious to the fact that she was not wanted. She also dismissed her husband and Tucker so severely that neither dared protest. Somewhat to the engineer’s surprise, they ended up waiting for the women in one of San Francisco’s many cafés, Branek having expressed a desire to sample human culture.
“You are to be congratulated on your promotion, Captain Tucker,” the Vulcan remarked over a glass of beer and the engineer grinned.

“You’d better congratulate T’Pol. She forced me into it.”

“You object to the increase in responsibility?”

“I’d object to being reassigned.” Tucker shrugged. “While I stayed a commander, it was easy to be overlooked. People thought I’d lost the ambition particularly when the kids were little. Now some damned admiral’s gonna think that I’d be more useful commanding my own ship.”

“Which you would not enjoy?”

“I’m an engineer, Dr Branek. I’m a damn good engineer! I’m more use here than in space.”

“Then I trust that your Starfleet shares your opinion.” The Vulcan tilted his glass thoughtfully. “This is a pleasant beverage. Will you join me in another, Captain Tucker?”

“Wanna make that Trip?”

They were still getting along well when T’Pol found them an hour or so later, T’Pril racing ahead of her mother to scramble onto Tucker’s lap, very full of herself. “I am well advanced!”

“Are you? Is that official?” He looked up at T’Pol as he spoke although he was already smiling; if the verdict had been negative she would not have been so content.

“Yes, I am very intelligent. Also well grown with good coordination although Dr V’Mir was not interested in my soccer skills – Charlie said she would be.”

“No accounting for taste.” He kissed the girl’s cheek. “Well done, honey.” Again he met T’Pol’s smiling eyes. “Everything OK?”

“Naturally.”

He grinned at the confidence he knew she had not felt that morning. “I guess you’d better stay then.”

“If you will permit.”

T’Pril took charge again. “Yes, we will stay and I will call you ‘daddy’. May I have a banana milkshake?”

Her mother ignored the request to fix her with a quelling eye. “You may not address Captain Tucker as ‘daddy’. He is not your father.”

“But he is not my uncle either, mother, so it is not logical for me to call him ‘Uncle Charles’. Now that we are to stay on Earth, I should call him ‘daddy’, should I not, grandfather?”

The argument continued intermittently for the next fifty years. T’Pol always lost.

T’Pen was so affronted by the realisation that her granddaughter was to be brought up on Earth that she left immediately, vowing never to speak to her daughter again. When it was borne upon her that her husband – she had always doubted the wisdom of her parent’s choice – actually approved of the inferior ape-descendant with whom her daughter was fornicating it was too much for her offended sensibilities and she divorced Branek. It was only after he had agreed to the separation that she recalled that divorce was rare on Vulcan and came at the price of social ostracism – at least for those who weren’t popular to start with. By then it was too late and she lived out her life in a state of annoyance that rid her of the few friends she had retained.

On the other hand, Branek adapted to life without T’Pen with an ease that led his not-quite son-in-law to speculate on how often the Vulcan had deceived his wife in the past. T’Pol’s father moved to Earth in order to assist in his granddaughter’s upbringing and, with almost suspicious haste, struck up a friendship with the Vulcan ambassador, a woman who had lived much of her life away from Vulcan on various diplomatic postings. Her husband never accompanied her and, after several years and a review of transport details, Tucker gleefully concluded that M’Tek didn’t return home every seven years to visit her absent husband. Branek would never comment on his relationship with Ambassador M’Tek but Tucker was damned sure it didn’t just involve civilised conversation and lyre recitals.

Two years later:

When a star ship goes missing, the news spreads around Starfleet Headquarters at light speed. T’Pol overheard the news when she was analysing the results of her latest experiment and for once took note of the gossip. The ensign who had come in with the news became aware of the Vulcan’s scrutiny and tensed. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but when something like this happens …”

“You are sure it is the Pegasus?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

T’Pol nodded slightly and filed her notes. She had more important duties elsewhere.

As she had anticipated, the engineering department had also heard the news and had given up all pretence of work, being gathered together to watch the official transmissions. Tucker glanced up as the crowd parted to let her through, the lines of strain beside his eyes very evident – the Pegasus was one of his babies, if anything had happened to her he would take it personally and never mind that her captain was a close friend. T’Pol slipped a hand onto one of his, feeling him grip her tightly even as his concern washed over her through the bond between them. “Is there any factual information available?”

He shook his head absently. “Not a lot. Pegasus failed to arrive at a mining colony she was due to visit. They called Starfleet who confirmed that they couldn’t raise her. The Suran’s the nearest ship – the Vulcans have dispatched her to Pegasus’s last known position.”

“When does the Suran expect to arrive?”

“Couple of hours.”

Which meant that there was absolutely no point in watching a replay of the same information for that period, but T’Pol knew better than to suggest that they should all return to their normal tasks – however logical such a course of action was, no human would comply. It was Tucker’s day for collecting the children and he should leave shortly to do so but that was clearly not going to happen; fortunately she had become inured to changes in their domestic schedule. “Charles.” He turned to frown at her, still mostly focussed on the current crisis. “I will pick up the children from school.” He nodded and she answered the unspoken question. “I will ask my father to wait with them while I return here.”

His fingers tightened around hers and a faint smile touched his mouth. “Thanks.” Despite the others gathered around, she reached up to brush his lips with her first two fingers before leaving.

Branek was fond of the Tucker children as well as his own granddaughter and had no objection to babysitting at short notice, particularly when he was already aware of the potential loss of the human star ship. He might not understand the humans’ need to undertake a vigil but he was prepared to accept T’Pol’s need to keep her own human company.

The group of engineers were still hanging around Tucker’s office. T’Pol took charge and directed them all to the mess hall where she had determined that many other personnel had gathered; she trusted that whoever was in charge of the operation would inform them when further information became available. They had a long wait. It was after 2100 when Admiral Forrest entered and his expression meant that he didn’t really need to make the announcement although he didn’t shirk that unpleasant duty even though he could simply have broadcast a message around the facility. He climbed slowly onto a chair. “I regret to inform you that the Suran has located wreckage that they have identified as the Pegasus. No survivors have been found.” He continued before someone could ask the obvious question. “We currently have no information as to whether this was a natural disaster or the result of hostile action against the Pegasus.” He glanced around the assembled crowd, searching for the man he wanted. “Captain Tucker, you’ve been assigned to investigate the destruction of the Pegasus. Report to my office tomorrow morning.” Once again he looked around his silent audience. “We are all Starfleet officers. We know that space is not a safe environment. We understand the risks we run. Whatever caused the loss of the Pegasus, it will not affect the mission of this organisation, to explore and to extend our knowledge of the universe. Dismissed.”

He left at once and Tucker sighed, nodding to his people even as he reached for T’Pol’s hand. “You heard the admiral. Get moving.” He took his own advice and led the Vulcan from the room, not speaking until they reached home then turning to pull her close, pressing his face into her neck.

“You will find out what occurred,” she said firmly even as she stroked his hair and he shook his head slightly.

“Won’t bring them back.”

“But knowing what happened may prevent such occurrences in the future.”

“I guess.”

“You will have to go off-world?”

“Expect so.”

“Do you wish me to accompany you?”

“Yeah.” He pulled back and she could see the sorrow and strain marking his face. “But I need you to stay here with the kids.”

“Then I will do so.” She stroked his face. “We should meditate.”

“I’m glad you’re here. I need you.”

“As I need you.”

“T’Pol, when I die …”

She stopped his words with her fingers. “Speculation is futile.”

“But …”

This time she kissed him in the human way. “Come inside.”

Even with someone of Tucker’s expertise in charge, they never found out what happened to the Pegasus. The existence of quantum filaments was not established for another 100 years and no ship built with 22nd century technology could survive collision with one. It went down in the records as an unexplained loss, the first that Starfleet had suffered although there would be others over the years.

It was a double tragedy for those who had served on Enterprise in the early days: Travis Mayweather had joined the Pegasus as first officer only a few days before she was destroyed. Neither his body nor Reed’s was recovered.

~
Twenty years later:

Tucker yawned and was nudged sharply in the ribs for his trouble. He sighed and straightened with the obedience that twenty years domesticity had instilled in him, meeting T’Pol’s frown with a rueful shrug. Why Starfleet had felt the need for him to attend this particular launch ceremony he really didn’t know. Just because Starfleet and the Vulcan Science Directorate had managed to cooperate in producing the Intrepid wasn’t a good enough excuse for dragging him away from the very good party currently being held in the construction yard. He didn’t want to listen to interminable speeches by human and Vulcan representatives on how well relations between their two species were going. He and T’Pol had cracked human/Vulcan relations over thirty years before without benefit of long speeches and signed agreements. He stifled another yawn. Jonathan Archer should never have let the Vulcans get away without signing the Federation charter from day one. It had just given them the chance to nitpick about the detail ever since.

“You should not,” his beloved hissed in his ear, “have stayed up all last night to oversee the re-balancing of the plasma flow.”

Fortunately a round of applause broke out so he didn’t have to justify himself – again – although he wondered what they were applauding. Knowing that T’Pol would have been paying attention, he nudged her gently and she glared at his questioning look. “Vulcan has agreed to become a member of the United Federation of Planets.”

“Better late than never, I guess,” he muttered back. “Think we’ll get Vulcans in Starfleet now?”

“No.”

He sighed and sat back to listen to another round of self-congratulatory speeches.

Tucker snuck out of the after-launch official party at the first opportunity. The only people he wanted to talk to were Jon and T’Pol but they were both too busy being polite to bother with him, whereas there was undoubtedly a cold beer with his name on it still waiting for him at the unofficial party. That T’Pol would certainly tell him that his behaviour was inconsistent with his age, rank and dignity was tough. He didn’t care to remember his age, he hadn’t wanted his present rank and he’d never been hot on dignity.

He took the short cut to the party, which was unfortunate for the pair who thought they had found a secluded corner for a little quiet canoodling. Tucker would have snuck by since he was fond of a canoodle himself, but he happened to get a good view of the girl’s ears. “T’Pril!”

His yell made them leap apart and T’Pol’s daughter glared at him, eyes wide. “Daddy …”

He caught her wrist to pull her to his side, away from the young man who looked half a dozen years older than the Vulcan girl although was, in fact, four years younger - as Tucker knew all too well. “What the hell d’you think you’re doing, Henry?”

Jonathan Archer’s son blushed, shifting awkwardly, the third year cadet’s uniform still looking too loose on his thin frame. “Uh … we were just …”

“It was my fault.” T’Pril’s chin was up, generous mouth set in a determined line. “I wanted to be kissed so I asked Henry.”

Tucker scowled at her. “What have we told you about being careful?”

She pouted back. “I can control myself.”

“No, honey, I don’t think you can. Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“To find your mother.”

“Oh, daddy! You’re human, you should be more fun.”

“Yeah, I’m human. I’m a human who’s seen an out-of-control Vulcan and I don’t want that to happen to you. And as for you, cadet,” Henry cowered slightly under the fierce look, “if I catch you near my daughter again I’ll see you posted to a warp 2 ship and left there to rot. Understand me?”

The boy nodded fervently and scurried away and T’Pril looked after him pettishly. “He’s chicken! Why didn’t he stand up to you?”

“Because I outrank him a dozen times over. Are you coming, honey, or am I gonna have to carry you?”

“You couldn’t.”

“Try me! And watch your English around your mother.”

Tucker left an unrepentant T’Pril with her mother and went to find the man who hadn’t brought up his son to be the sort of gentlemen who should know better than to take advantage of adolescent Vulcans whose hormones were threatening to get out of control. T’Pol considered stopping him but then decided not to intervene. Shouting would make Charles feel a great deal better and then they could discuss the matter rationally. After forty years of friendship, Jonathan was unlikely to take offence.

“Ambassador.” Tucker gripped Archer’s arm firmly and prepared to tow him away. “I want a word with you.”

“Trip.” A quick look confirmed that his friend wasn’t feeling diplomatic but habit was hard to resist. “This is Ambassador Tolan. May I present Admiral Tucker, head of engineering for Starfleet?”

“We’ve met. Jon, that word – now!”

Archer managed an apologetic look and let himself be drawn aside. “You know you’ve just insulted Vulcan’s new ambassador to Earth?”

“He’ll live. Which you might not. I’ve just had to tell your son to keep the hell away from my daughter!”
“I didn’t know Katie was here.”

“OK, OK, T’Pol’s daughter. Does that make you feel better, Jon, knowing that your son tried to make out with T’Pol’s daughter?”

“That’s not fair!” Archer had almost forgotten that in a moment of madness over thirty years before he’d thought he stood a chance with his first officer. Evidently Tucker had a longer memory. “Besides, what do you expect me to do about it?”

Starfleet’s head of engineering drew a breath to answer then abruptly let it out in a laugh. “Damned if I know.”

Archer allowed himself a cautious grin. “She’s a pretty girl.”

“Yeah, and Vulcan girls her age can be real unstable.”

“I never thought you’d do it, you know.”

“Do what? Let Starfleet give me the damned stupid rank uplift? Thanks for that one, by the way, Jon. They told me you put in a good word.”

“Best engineer I ever worked with.” Archer smiled again at the other man’s grimace and returned to topic. “Raise T’Pril Vulcan.”

“We had to. Not that she can’t act a lot too human when no one’s looking.”

“What will you do now?”

“Send her to Vulcan.” Tucker shrugged in answer to Archer’s surprise. “We’ve been thinking about it for a while. Branek’s going back with M’Tek. They said they’d take T’Pril if we wanted.”

“You and T’Pol won’t go?”

“You know me and desert planets, Jon, and it’ll be good to have some time by ourselves.”

“How does T’Pol feel about it?”

The other man paused, looking unerringly across the room to where the Vulcan woman was talking to the new ambassador – probably apologising for her lover’s rudeness – and she responded, eyes flicking in his direction before she focussed on the other Vulcan again. “She knows we have to stay together.” He shook himself briefly and turned a slightly forced smile on the older man. “And she says she won’t do my packing for me.”

“Are you two OK?”

“Sure.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Really, Jon.”

“Tell me.”

“Damn stubborn bastard,” his friend said mildly. “You remember we were bonded?”

“I thought that went away when you separated the first time.”

“It came back once we were together again.” Tucker hesitated again, studying one of his hands where it was resting against the nearby wall. “T’Pol can’t explain it, nor can anyone else we’ve asked. It’s gotten stronger over the years until now … it’s real uncomfortable being apart for more than a few days.”

“So where one of you goes …”

“Yeah.”

“Trip … how’s T’Pol going to react when you … eh …”

“Die? I dunno, Jon, I really dunno.” He grinned suddenly, pushing regret aside, the wicked look in his eyes taking Archer straight back to the lieutenant who had torn into over-critical Vulcans. “I guess I’ll just have to make sure I live forever.”

Thirty years later:

“Hey.”

T’Pol raised her head from her terminal to look up at the woman who was peering a little shyly around the door. “Katie! We were not aware that you would be visiting.”

“I wanted to surprise you.” She came over to kiss the older woman’s cheek. “You don’t mind?”

“I see no reason why we should.”

“Oh, I thought maybe dad would be whisking you off somewhere romantic for the weekend. You’re never in when I call!”

“No doubt because your father is always working.”

“Isn’t he gonna retire soon?”

“No.”

Katie grinned. “I guess he’d never trust anyone else to build his ships right. Where is he?”

“He is conducting a lecture. It should end in approximately half an hour – unless the students prove particularly obtuse.”

“Then could we go for lunch? I need a favour, T’Pol.”

“Of course,” although whether she was agreeing to lunch or the favour even Katie could not tell.

Katie waited until they were seated in the mess hall then took a deep breath. “I’ve met someone.”

An eyebrow rose. “As a lawyer, I assume that you meet many people.”

“Oh, T’Pol, you know what I mean! Someone special. I want to bring him home.”

“Then we will be pleased to meet with him.”

“Dad won’t be.”

“Why not?”

“Malcolm’s an English teacher.”

The eyebrow climbed again. “Your father’s use of English may be eccentric, but I am not aware that he has any particular dislike of English teachers.”

“We want to get married.”

“Then you may. Katie, you are thirty-nine years old. Your father cannot prevent your marriage.”

“T’Pol, you know how protective he gets and having a Starfleet admiral grilling them used to frighten all my boyfriends to death!”

“He was not an admiral at that stage.”

“So it’ll be worse now!”

“What was the favour you required?”

“Tell dad for me. He won’t stay mad if you tell him. And persuade him not to scare Malcolm away.”

“I will do so if you wish although I am sure he would listen with equal restraint to you.”

“Thank you!” Impulsively Katie leant across the hug the other woman. “Oh, T’Pol, I’m sure you’ll both like Malcolm. He’s very sweet and he wasn’t born on Earth.”

“A sound recommendation.”

Katie giggled at the dry tone. “I have to get married soon, you know. I’m gonna refuse to appear in public with you just as soon as I start to look older than you.”

“Something that need not trouble you for some years yet.”

“I dunno. How old are you, T’Pol?” She got a blank look and giggled again. “I can’t believe you’ve never told dad! Well, you look about fifty so you must be at least a hundred.” Her expression grew suddenly pensive. “Doesn’t it worry you that dad’s getting old faster than you?”

“Your father is little changed from the man I first knew – often annoyingly so.”

“Yeah, but physically …”

“I always knew that I would outlive your father.”

Katie saw the Vulcan’s eyes move towards the doors and turned to watch the man they had been discussing walk in, a couple of cadets trailing him. “I guess dad’s still pretty fit, isn’t he?”

“The advantage of a healthy diet.”

The human woman grinned reminiscently. “I still remember the first time you made dad eat plomeek broth.” Her gaze sharpened. “What does that girl think she’s doing? He’s old enough to be her grandfather!”

T’Pol was watching with resignation. “Women still find him attractive.”

“Don’t they know about you?”

“I remind them occasionally.”

“T’Pol, why didn’t you and dad ever get married?”

She got a surprised look. “It never seemed necessary. By the time I came to live on Earth we were both well aware of the depth of our commitment.”

“I thought maybe it was because of grandma.”

“Your grandmother’s failure to acknowledge me was not a factor.”

“I still don’t understand that. She knew you made dad happy.”

“She blamed my people for your grandfather’s death.”

“I never knew that.” Katie looked wonderingly at the woman she had known for so long. “Why?”

She didn’t get an answer because Tucker arrived at the table, absently touching T’Pol as he grinned at his daughter. “What are you doing here, Katie?”

“Nice to see you too, daddy.” She jumped up with a significant look at T’Pol. “I’ve got shopping to do. See you later.”

And then there was the rest of history, which gets progressively sillier and sillier

Malcolm the Schoolteacher was, of course, the son of Caroline Grayson and Malcolm Reed. Caroline had been extremely grateful to Malcolm-senior for rescuing her from Orion pirates but also very careless. Being a carefree soul, she never bothered to contact the Starfleet officer who had fathered her baby but shipped the infant off to her Earth-bound relatives as soon as possible. So Malcolm-junior grew up with nothing of his parents but their names. Thanks to T’Pol’s influence, Tucker didn’t grill him – much – and he and Katie were subsequently married. Nine years later Katie finally presented Tucker with his first grandchild, Amanda. (Charlie eventually got around to the kissy stuff but claimed that having so many assertive women in the family had put him off girls. At the time of Katie’s marriage he was living on Denobula with his boyfriend, investigating instances of parallel evolution. Charlie and David came home for the wedding.)

T’Pril stayed on Vulcan and was eventually persuaded to behave appropriately despite frequent visits with her human family. Given her mother’s disgraceful liaison with Tucker, no Vulcan family wished for a union with her and so T’Pril was spared an arranged marriage. Sadly, she also found that no well brought up Vulcan male wanted anything to do with her – although she admitted to Katie that well brought up Vulcan men were boring. However, some years after Amanda’s birth T’Pril met a Vulcan who was not boring, specialising as he did in the import of exotic Earth fruit (including, of course, bananas). They never married but were t’hy’la for many years. Eventually they had a daughter whom they named T’Pring.

T’Pol never saw her granddaughter. Tucker lived into the early years of his eleventh decade, keeping his wits, his sense of fun and his ability to annoy T’Pol until the end. When he died she tried very hard to maintain an interest in life but found the effort too great. Less than a month after her human’s death, she went to sleep and failed to wake up again.

Amanda Grayson was seventeen when her grandfather died. Nine years later she made the most famous mixed marriage in history when she was espoused by Sarek of Vulcan. Perhaps it was as well that T’Pol was dead: the knowledge that Amanda and Sarek were able to have the child she had wanted would have been very painful.

Sarek’s family insisted on the traditional childhood betrothal for Spock. Despite the pre-eminence of the family other Vulcans were reluctant to promise their daughters to a half human in case that side of his heritage predominated. With unfaltering logic – he firmly denied that sentiment played any part in the decision – Sarek arranged for Spock to be bonded to T’Pring, whose mother was in no position to object to Spock’s contaminated DNA.

All seemed to be going well. With the marriage of Spock and T”Pring, the link between Tucker’s and T’Pol’s families would have been formalised. However, T’Pring inherited her mother’s – and, indeed, her grandmother’s – waywardness. While Spock was away from Vulcan becoming famous she met Stonn, grandson of Storan who had once asked T’Pol to marry him. It could never be proven that the introduction was made by Storan but Amanda had her suspicions. In a piece of perverted logic worthy of an honorary granddaughter of Charles Tucker III, T’Pring gained Stonn for her very own, although Spock’s prediction at the time was fulfilled: having was not as satisfying as wanting. As a husband, Stonn was indeed simple and easily controlled but proved as boring as his grandfather - although T’Pring did become a noted grower of orchids.

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A whole mess of folks have made comments

A great conclusion. I loved the way you wove the two series together.

Mythic.

It was great to read your sequel, and very nicely done, too. The interaction between Trip and T'Pol was lovely, and the way they looked after each other's children was sweet. I loved her father, hated her mother, loved his uncle, and understood, but was saddened by his mother.
The time line was well-observed, but how sad that Malcolm and Travis had to die, and eventually Trip and T'Pol...time stands still for no-one.
Thanks for sharing this, and wrapping up the story.

Well, having been one of those requesting a sequel to Rainbow's Foot, I feel partially responsible for this lovely story. So everyone can thank me now. This was wonderful - not so very silly and fluffy at all. Definitely geared toward us shippers with nice character development. Thanks for wrapping it all up so neatly.

Wow! Thanks for wrapping up the story. I loved "The Rainbow's Foot". It was a gut wrentching, heart tugging story but I loved it never the less and it's nice to see the conclusion to that story.

I also loved how you've incorporated TOS characters into this story!! :)

This was an excellent story bringing all three stories together beautifully. I adored all the dialogue between Trip and T'Pol and their assorted children, what a wonderful meshing of personalities. You breathed life into them, each and every one. Loved it. A bit sad that Trip's mother was so intrangisent as was T'Pol's. A surprise when Branek divorced her but a massive relief for the poor man too I should think. Thank you so much for a superbly detailed outing, much sadness though to lose Malcolm Reed. Ali D :~)

Thank you so much for this great story I really enjoyed this series of stories.I'm really glad you decided to bring back the T'pol's family and Trips .I liked waht you did with Trip's kids and T'Pol's daughter.

WOw that was great!!!! a FABLULOUS ending for this story!! SIMPLY wonderful! Can't say enough good thigns about it!! Seesh.. WONDERFUL!!!

What a great series. My day is a bit brighter, and me and the boys out here in teh desert can use all the cheering up we can get. I look forward to excellent writing. :)

That was excellent! I enjoyed the series and thank you for the wonderful ending. I really like how you managed to weave so many ends in and make it come out right! I look forward to more :-)

Oh did I enjoy this! Great conclusion! I loved the relationship you built between these two wonderful characters and the children and other family members just came to life! Thank you so much for this!

Although this was the sequel to "The Rainbows Foot"(an amazing, marvelous story that I've read over many times) it was handled in such a way as not to be a conclusion. You touched important events that needed to be dealt with, but you left a good deal of room for the imagination to take hold.

Like others, I hated T'Pol's mother, and thought she deserved what she got. T'Pol's father and Trip's uncle were the best.

The idea that T'Pring was not out to rip Spock's heart out and satisfy her own selfish need for wealth or something like that was a nice twist.

I was sorry to see that T'Pril lived out what seemed a reserved life, away from what she once had. I was rooting for her to find the balance that Spock finally achieved between his two halves, or in her case, her Vulcan heritage and her upbringing. With the mention of Caroline Grayson, I had an idea of what your ending would be like, and I loved it.

WONDERFUL STORY! DON'T STOP!

Good god, this is my favourite story! I'm new to the fandom, but I have yet to find a story that satisfied me half as much. This was wonderful. I've read it twice already, and am planning on reading it a million times over! Thank you for sharing such a marvelous piece of work. THANK YOU!!

This conclusion is absolutely delightful!

Amen!! This has been an incredibly satisfying read, but you've wrapped it up so wonderfully that I can't even be sorry it's ended. Now . . . any chance of a T'Pril story?? I would love to hear her reflections on her parents' lives.

Yet another great addition to this series and a wonderful ending as well. And may I just say T'Pril is so adorable and such a riot. Whenever anything comes out of her mouth it makes me smile. Well done! :)

There's nothing left to be said, but this was wonderful. Reminded me of the finale to Six Feet Under, although you obviously wrote this way before that ever aired. Thank you! Very satisfing!