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Shall We Dance

Author - Star Watcher | Genre - Fluff | Genre - Friendship | Genre - Romance | Main Story | Rating - PG-13 | S
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Shall We Dance?

By StarWatcher

Rating – PG-13.
Disclaimer – I do not own any of the Enterprise characters, they all belong to Paramount. however, I do have an overactive imagination!
Genre – Pure Fluff and Romance with a little Friendship.
Summary - T’Pol and Hoshi realise they are not so different after all. Their burgeoning friendship leads to romances for them both . . . and a little dancing thrown in!

Set after the end of series 4 – part of a fictitious series 5? Anyway, I was so gutted by the end of the series that I simply pretend it never happened!



Enterprise, 1840 hours

Ensign Hoshi Sato walked along the corridor that led to Enterprise's canteen, feeling her stomach rumble. She had been on duty since lunchtime, and should have finished her shift at 5, but got so distracted by her work that the time had gotten away from her. Not that she had anything to leave her duties on time for.

That was part of the problem. At least, it would be if she could define her relationship with a certain security officer that easily.

It had started two weeks ago, when Captain Archer had docked at the spaceport bordering Earth, not only so that Enterprise could have some well-needed repairs done by Starfleet’s finest engineers, but also that Starfleet’s finest crew could have some well-earned leave. Hoshi had been unsure about what to do with her leave. She had obviously wanted to spend the time with her family, but then Malcolm Reed had asked her if she wanted to spend her leave with him.

Hoshi smiled at the memory of it; she had been packing her suitcase, attempting to empty her quarters of all necessary items and dry her hair at the same time, when her door had chimed. “Come in!” she said above the roar of the hairdryer. Malcolm had entered, standing stiffly, almost to attention. He looked slightly taken aback at the sight of not only Hoshi’s room but also Hoshi, with her long, dark, damp hair and casual clothes.

A mumbled “Hoshi.” was all he could muster. Hoshi looked slightly bemused.

“Malcolm? Is everything ok?”

“Yes, er, look, I was wondering, er, if you don’t have any plans for leave . . . “ he tailed off. Hoshi smiled expectantly. Blushing crimson, he ploughed on. “I was wondering . . . if you would . . . care to join me on my leave.”

Hoshi just stared at him, hairdryer in hand. They had been spending quite a lot of time together of late, doing repairs, enhancing Enterprise's communications systems, and self-defence classes, and her feelings for him had grown. She never expected that they might be reciprocated. She smiled. “Of course, Malcolm, I’d love to”

And that had been the start of it. For fourteen days they had spent every waking moment together. They had spent their time in England, visiting Malcolm’s family, and then driven from London to Edinburgh in Scotland to visit an old Starfleet friend of Malcolm’s. On their last day they had taken a walk in the Scottish hills. It had been freezing cold and snowing, and they had sat down and looked out at the vast, empty, snow-covered hills, and shared coffee from a thermos Malcolm had brought with him. Hoshi didn’t think she’d ever been happier in her whole life. Then Malcolm had kissed her. Then done much more than kissed her, in the snow! It had been interesting attempting to explain why the pair of them had frostbite in the most peculiar places to Dr. Phlox, but they had managed.

And now nothing. They had been back on Enterprise for four days now, and aside from some smouldering looks across the table during Captain Archer’s briefings, or in the turbo lift, nothing. Hoshi was beginning to think she had imagined the whole thing. Either that or Malcolm was a love ‘em and leave ‘em kinda guy. Hoshi really didn’t think he was, unless he decided he really wasn’t interested.

Hoshi sighed, and entered the mess hall. It was fairly quiet. Many crewmembers were still not back from leave, including most of her friends on Enterprise. Not that she had that many. Her friends were mainly Trip, who had made a point of avoiding the mess hall in case T’Pol was in there, Travis, who was not back from leave, and Malcolm. Plus they were all men. What she wouldn’t give for some female company and advice.

Speaking of female company, after Hoshi had selected her food, she spied Sub-Commander T’Pol sitting alone by the window, watching the stars. Hum, thought Hoshi. What would a Vulcan, with a professed interest in human interaction have to say about this? She knew Vulcans were a logical, dispassionate and unemotional people, hardly someone to go to for love advice, but T’Pol was different. She had changed during her years on Enterprise, and become, dare Hoshi say it, almost human at times. She also knew the Sub-Commander to be very discreet and easily capable of keeping a secret. She decided to brave it.

T’Pol sat, watching the stars, a piece of pecan pie on a plate in front of her. She had pushed all the pieces of pastry away from the filling and was pushing the pecan nuts around the plate with a fork. She had spent her leave on board Enterprise, working with the spaceport engineers with the repairs. She felt the extra work would help distract her from whatever it was that was bothering her, but it did not. She thought the pecan pie might help her, as it usually did, but it didn’t. Neither did the meditation sessions, which had come to occupy her spare time, when she wasn’t working out in the gym. It unsettled her that she could not find the calm she used to have so effortlessly. Maybe she should see Dr. Phlox about the problem.

“Sub-Commander? Do you mind if I sit down?” T’Pol looked up to find the figure of Ensign Sato standing before her, a plate of steaming food in her hand.

“Not at all Ensign, please, sit.” T’Pol motioned for her to sit down, which Hoshi did readily. T’Pol was bemused; Ensign Sato did not usually seek out her company when there were so many other humans in the canteen to chose from.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Hoshi eating, T’Pol drinking her glass of tea. T’Pol could tell from her fiddling with her fork and her eyes roaming on the table, that there was something on Hoshi's mind, but decided that if the Ensign wanted to confide, she would do so in her own time.

“Did you have a pleasurable leave, Ensign?” T’Pol asked courteously. Hoshi looked up and went scarlet.

“Yes, I did.” There was a pause.

“Sub-Commander, I need your advice”

Surprised, T’Pol put down her glass and looked at the young Ensign.

“Of course, Ensign, how may I be of assistance?”

Hoshi looked embarrassed. “It's kinda personal.”

“You may be assured of my discretion and confidence.” T’Pol said.

“I know, that’s why I want to talk to you. I really need some advice, or just someone to talk to”. Hoshi said.



Chief Engineer Charles ‘Trip’ Tucker walked into the canteen, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He, like T’Pol, had spent his leave on board Enterprise, assisting the spaceport engineers with repairs to the engines, and made a few modifications of his own. The only problem was, he hadn’t been sleeping. He couldn’t sleep, despite spending hours in engineering working until he couldn’t see straight. He simply couldn’t settle, he felt very agitated all the time, unable to sit still, to focus without severe concentration. He felt it might be because he had stopped his neuro-pressure sessions with T’Pol, but there was no way he was going down that road again. It had led to too many problems, and there was too much pain to re-visit that path. Although they had been the two most senior officers on board, he had studiously ignored her during the leave. He was so fed up with trying to get her to open up to him that he had given up now.

And, speak of the devil, there she was, the lady herself. Trip sighed. She was looking beautiful, as always, sitting with a serene, intent expression on her face, as she listened to Hoshi speaking. That was unusual. He had never seen the two of them spending much time alone together, and didn’t think T’Pol was one for girly chats. Trip really, really wished things could have worked out between them. But when they had come back to Enterprise after her wedding to Koss, she had shut him out; and he just decided to do the same. It still hurt seeing her though.

He spied Malcolm Reed sitting on his own, eating what looked like a plate of chicken curry with a glum look on his face, also watching Hoshi talking to T’Pol. Trip went and sat next to him.

“Evenin’ Malcolm, mind if I sit?” His mouth full of curry, Malcolm gestured for him to sit.

“Good leave?” Trip asked.

“Could say that.”

Ah, the cause of the glumness. Trip waited for a few seconds before asking, “Want to talk about it?”

Malcolm, put his fork down and pushed the plate away. “How long have you got mate?”



Hoshi leaned back, her story complete. “What do you think?”

T’Pol didn’t know what to think. She had originally expected that Hoshi’s problems would be related to Enterprise, or maybe even her duty roster. She never imagined that her problems were of a romantic nature, especially not with the Head of Security. She stole a sly glance over to Malcolm, who was sitting behind Hoshi, watching the pair of them. That is, when he wasn’t talking to Trip. She had never envisioned Lieutenant Reed capable of what Hoshi was telling her. But then, she had never thought that the volatile, blonde, human Engineer would occupy her as much as he did either. She decided against reminding Hoshi that it was against Starfleet regulations for Senior-Junior Officer fraternisation, especially given her dalliance with Trip. She had sensed rather than seen his presence when he had entered the mess hall, and was sure he had felt hers too. It was extremely odd; after their night together, she had a heightened awareness of him, his moods and emotions. She had never had that with any of her previous lovers, not that there had been that many at all, and they had all been Vulcans. What was so different about this human?

“I am unsure, Ensign. Am I to understand that you have not discussed this with any other crew members?”

Hoshi nodded.

“Including Lt. Commander Reed?”

Hoshi looked at her in horror. “Are you kidding! That would be a very bad idea.”

T’Pol looked confused. “Surely it is the most logical course of action? If you and Lt. Commander Reed have been intimate, you wish to know what his intentions are towards you.”

Hoshi smiled. Maybe this hadn’t been the best idea after all. “T’Pol, it's not that simple. You don’t have these kinds of issues between Vulcans, do you?”

T’Pol shook her head. “Quite the contrary. As you know Ensign, we are bonded when we are very young. Many, indeed, most Vulcans, only ever have one, or even two mates during their lives.”

Hoshi smiled slyly. “Would you include yourself in that, Sub-Commander.”

T’Pol looked at her in surprise. “How did – “

Hoshi laughed. “You’re not that obvious, Sub-Commander, trust me. But, when people are intimate, Vulcan or no, their body language towards each other changes. While you might have been discreet in hiding your feelings, Commander Tucker was less so. Plus, we have mind-melded, remember?” She could swear she could see the Vulcan blushing.




His story finished, Malcolm looked up at Trip, who had a massive grin on his face.

“Well, what do you think?”

Trip laughed. “Well Mal, I didn’t think you had it in you! In the damned snow, of all places! Weren’t you worried about frostbite?”

“Stop laughing man, it isn’t funny! What am I going to do?”

“I don’t need to remind you of Starfleet’s non-fraternisation policy among senior officers do I?”

“Of course not.”

“Have you tried just talking to her?”

Malcolm looked at him. “Like you and a certain Sub-Commander we both know?” Malcolm retorted.

Trip blushed. “That’s different. The woman’s not even human. She’s a Vulcan, for god’s sake!”

“So?”

“So? It's not like I didn’t try! The woman has no emotions!”

Malcolm looked at him. All the fight went out of Trip, and he slumped back in his chair. Before Malcolm had gone on leave, Trip, desperate for someone to confide in, had talked to Malcolm at length about everything. He had proved a sympathetic, not to mention discreet, confidante.

“Jeez, Mal, I don’t know what to do. I feel her everywhere. I smell her everywhere. I can’t get her out of my head, and I have to see her all the time. I’ve never, ever felt this way before, and I can’t make it stop. I thought transferrin’ off Enterprise would help, but it just made things worse.”

Malcolm smiled sympathetically. “Bloody hell mate, we’re as bad as each other.”



The next night was movie night, and Hoshi, and a few of the other female crew members had finally decided to protest at what they deemed to be overly masculine films, and decided that one night a month would be ladies’ night. This was the first one, and it was the classic Sleepless in Seattle. As expected, the audience was predominantly female, but Archer, Malcolm and Trip were all in attendance, armed with popcorn and Tennessee bourbon. T’Pol was also there, sitting with Hoshi and her few friends that were now back from leave. It was curious, reflected T’Pol that since their conversation the previous evening, Hoshi had been much more forthcoming and pleasant that usual. --Not that the Ensign had never been offhand with her before, just that now, she was much more so, even resorting to a most inappropriate use of the ship’s communications facilities to persuade T’Pol to attend this evening, by messenging her several times while they were both on duty, Hoshi at her station and T’Pol at hers. Not that the intrusion had been unwelcome. The repairs were progressing well, and there was very little to do. The distraction of the banter with the young Ensign had been most stimulating, enjoyable even, especially as Hoshi had sent her messages in ancient Vulcan.

However, T’Pol was somewhat confused by the plot of the film, which seemed to be set in Seattle in the late twentieth century about two people, who claimed they were in love, yet had never met. She wasted no time in voicing her concerns to Hoshi.

“Ensign, I think I have failed to understand the plot of this motion picture”

“What?” Hoshi was only half-listening. Meg Ryan was driving along, listening to Tom Hanks talk about losing his wife on the radio. This was one of her favourite movies.

“I fail to understand why this woman, who is betrothed to another, is listening to this man she does not know talk about his bereavement on radio.”

“It’s setting the scene, T’Pol, just watch. You’ll understand by the end.”

But, by the end, when Meg Ryan had returned her engagement ring to Bill Pullman and had met Tom Hanks in the Empire State building on Valentine’s Day, T’Pol was still nonplussed, even more so when she saw Hoshi and her friends crying at the end.

After the film, T’Pol, Hoshi and another young Ensign, Jane Warren, walked back to the mess hall for a drink. Usually T’Pol would have retired to her quarters, but something made her accept Hoshi’s offer of a ‘quiet drink’. Ensign Warren, by contrast, looked positively horrified at the prospect of spending more time with the Sub-Commander than was absolutely necessary. Once they got into the mess, Hoshi got a bottle of white wine and three glasses. Warren attempted to make small talk with T’Pol.

“What did you think of the film, Sub-Commander? Have you seen it before?”

T’Pol shook her head. “No Ensign, I have not. I found its plot to be somewhat . . . confusing.”

Hoshi came to the table where they had sat down, set the wine glasses down, and filled them up. T’Pol eyed her glass full of the pale liquid with an arched brow.

“What is this beverage?”

Hoshi and Warren smiled. “Its white wine, T’Pol, try some.”

T’Pol picked up the glass and sniffed it inquisitively. “Alcohol?”

Hoshi and Warren nodded, and both took a big gulp before leaning back in their chairs and sighing contentedly. “Boy that tastes good.” Warren murmured. Hoshi nodded. They looked at T’Pol expectantly. “Try some, Sub-Commander; it's nice” Hoshi said.

T’Pol raised an eyebrow, and took a sip of the wine. A sweet, warm, tingling sensation filled her mouth, and then travelled down her throat and into her stomach as she swallowed. She raised one eyebrow. Hoshi and Warren looked at her expectantly. She stared back. “It has a pleasant sensation and taste.” She admitted.

“All right!” Warren exclaimed. Hoshi smiled.

The doors to the mess hall opened. T’Pol sensed Trip’s presence even before he had walked in and even though her back was to the door. She knew he did the same. She also watched Hoshi pale visibly, and from that deducted that Malcolm was Trip’s companion. Warren, however, put her thoughts more succinctly.

“Mmmmm.” Warren said, sipping her wine, and watching Trip and Malcolm approach their table. “Aren’t they just two fine specimens? Commander Tucker could sort out my engine any day of the week. Lt. Reed too.”

“Ensign. Lower your voice” T’Pol said primly. She did not want the pair of them to overhear their conversation, for Hoshi’s sake if not for her own. “More wine?” Hoshi suggested. Warren nodded enthusiastically. T’Pol shook her head.



Malcolm and Trip had discussed the movie all the way to the mess hall.

“I don’t think I’ll never understand chick flicks you know Mal.” Trip said. Malcolm nodded in agreement. “Oh bugger, there’s Hoshi. What am I going to do? And is that T’Pol drinking wine?”

Trip started laughing. “Oh man, you’ve got to be kidding me.” He turned around, but no, there she was, glass in hand, sitting laughing with Hoshi and another woman he’d not seen before. This he had to see, and despite Malcolm’s protestations, began to move towards the table. T’Pol did not need to turn around; she could sense Trip approaching their table.

“Hello ladies. Mind if we join you?” Trip said, before they could object, and pulled up two chairs, practically forcing Malcolm into his, who soon jumped up on the pretence of getting drinks. An awkward silence descended on them, before Trip turned to T’Pol.

“Wine on a school night, Sub-Commander?”

She raised her brow at him. She could feel intense anger radiating off him. Unsurprising, considering their past experiences with each other. But she could also fell an intense desire radiating as strongly as the anger. It made her think back to their illicit night together, and she too, began to radiate that same intense passion for him.

The sheer force of her feelings for him almost knocked Trip off his chair. Although outwardly she appeared indifferent, inside she was burning for him.

“Indeed Commander, Ensigns Sato and Warren and I were discussing the movie over a bottle of this refreshing beverage.”

“What did you think? Trip asked, as Malcolm came back with their drinks.

“I found it curious. I’m not entirely sure I understand the plot.”

“Really? Which part?” Asked Hoshi. T’Pol took another sip of her wine, watching Ensign Warren eye Trip with a hungry glance. He seemed oblivious.

“Well, the female lead was betrothed to another, yet she felt the need to travel across the United States in order to meet a man she had never even met, believing herself to be in love with him. I find it highly illogical that these events would transpire in reality.”

Hoshi, Malcolm and Warren laughed.

“That’s the point, T’Pol,” explained Hoshi. “It's not meant to be like real life, its escapism.”

Warren nodded in agreement. “It's what every girl dreams about. You know, meeting the man of her dreams and having him pursuing her across thousands of miles, just because he loves her.”

“This is what earth women dream of?” T’Pol asked, eliciting more laughter.

“It's not that funny. Didn’t you ever dream of being swept off you feet by some handsome Vulcan?” Trip asked her. She sensed the challenge in his tone. “As you are well aware, Commander, Vulcan ‘romance’ is hardly comparable to human notions of the idea.” She said. He stood up from the table.

“You Vulcans are a strange breed, y’know, Sub-Commander. I don’t think you guys would know what love is if it jumped up and bit you on the ass.”

T’Pol could feel the hurt in his tone. “Love is an illogical emotion, Commander. It causes people to act in an irrational, unpredictable manner.”

“Well, I’ve had just about as much ‘logic’ as I can take. Excuse me ladies, Malcolm, Sub-Commander’. Pushing himself away from the table so hard his chair fell to the ground, Trip strode angrily out of the mess room. Malcolm, excusing himself and giving Hoshi a meaningful look, ran after him. Warren looked embarrassed. “What was that all about?” Hoshi shrugged, not looking at T’Pol, who took another sip of her wine.

“I believe Commander Tucker does not understand Vulcan approaches to love and emotions. If you will excuse me, Ensigns, I must retire. Thank you for a . . . stimulating evening.” With that, she stood up and left.



“Commander! Commander! Trip! Will you wait a bloody minute!” Malcolm ran after Trip as the blond engineer strode angrily towards the turbo lift. Trip stopped and turned to look at his friend, his face flushed with anger. Malcolm finally caught up to him. “Do you want to tell me what the bloody hell that was all about? Why you just snapped at your superior officer?”

Trip sighed, and leant against the wall of the corridor. All the anger seemed to go out of him in one breath. He ran his hand through his blonde hair. “Jeez, Mal, I’m sorry. I just
. . . well, I just snapped at her.”

“I could see that.”

“I don’t know what happened, but that darn woman just makes me so mad! I can’t control it, she just makes me mad! But, at the same time, she makes me so god damn . . .”

“Fired up?” Malcolm supplied helpfully.

“Yes! Malcolm, I don’t know what it is, but since that night, its like, its like she’s inside my head or something! I feel her whenever she’s near, I smell her, and whenever I’m away from her, I feel this, this loneliness and, I can’t do anything, yet when she is around, I don’t feel that much better!”

The two men got in the turbo lift to continue their conversation.

“Have you tried talking to her?” Malcolm suggested. Trip looked at him as if he’d gone mad.

“Are you nuts!? She hates my guts!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure; maybe you should try talking to her. She might be sympathetic, maybe even give you a little of that Vulcan neuro-pressure?” Malcolm said. Trip rolled his eyes as the turbolift stopped on his deck.

“It was that stuff that got me into this mess in the first place!”



The next day, both T’Pol and Trip looked bleary-eyed and tired at the morning briefing. After leaving Hoshi and Ensign Warren last night, T’Pol had spent hours attempting to meditate, but with little effect. In the end, she found herself at 0500 hours in bed, staring at the ceiling, thoughts racing through her mind. She had never experienced this sensation before and found it most irritating. She had dropped off finally about 0600, only for her alarm to go off at 0700 for her shift. Her dreams had been disturbing full of uncontrolled desire for Trip, and she had awoken extremely aroused. The human remedy of a cold shower had failed to calm her. And although Vulcans were not intoxicated by ethanol, she put her reaction down to the wine she had drunk after the movie.

Trip too, had not slept much the night before, the dark circles under his eyes were testament to his insomnia. He had tried to meditate on his own, but without T’Pol’s calming influence, the activity was useless. Not that he didn’t feel her, of course; he couldn’t stop thinking about her, and when he finally did drop off, he had been plagued by extremely erotic dreams about her--which required a very cold shower this morning.

Captain Archer, however, was in a very jovial mood. He had received news from the spaceport engineers this morning telling them that repairs were almost complete, and Enterprise was almost space-worthy again. He had also received news from Admiral Greer, head of the spaceport, which he thought the crew would be glad to hear. So, after concluding the morning’s briefing, which was brief indeed, he turned his mind towards more pleasurable and entertaining thoughts.

“Well, as you are all probably aware, the repairs to Enterprise are virtually complete, and by way of thanks to all on board, Starfleet Command has arranged a little party for us. Attendance for all crew members is mandatory.”

“Sounds good to me, Captain!” Trip, always in the mood for a party despite his tiredness, piped up. Hoshi concurred.

“What kind of party is it, Captain?” she asked. Archer smiled.

“It’s a black tie ball. Very elegant, and, let me stress this, a skeleton crew from the spaceport will be staffing the ship, so attendance is mandatory. That’s an order. After what we’ve been through, a little R and R is in order. Dismissed.” They all filed out onto the bridge.

Hoshi had been working for a few minutes when her comms station beeped. She had a message. Opening the message, she immediately recognised the ancient Vulcan symbols. T’Pol. She’s really getting the hang of this communicating while on duty isn’t she? Hoshi stole a glance at the Science Officer. She was deep in thought, examining the PADD in front of her with keen interest. Hoshi began to read the ancient symbols with ease. It read, *Ensign, what is this black tie ball? I have read the Starfleet database, but the results are rather disturbing to me. I would appreciate your clarification on this matter. Sub-Commander T’Pol.*

Suppressing a giggle, Hoshi began to write back. This might be fun, she thought to herself, possibly a way to play matchmaker as well. Since T’Pol and Commander Tucker had stopped their meditation sessions, the atmosphere in the briefing room had sometimes been unbearable, the tension between them had been that bad. Maybe if they were to have another ‘encounter’ at the ball, it might alleviate some of that tension. Finishing her message, she sent it back to the Sub-Commander, who read it keenly. It read, They’re lots of fun. If you like, I can tell you about it in full over a bottle of wine in my quarters tonight. Hoshi.

A few moments later, she received a reply. Yes, that sounds like a most logical idea, now is not the time for such a discussion. Your use of ancient Vulcan writing, however, is a very useful deception for these purposes. Hoshi smiled. Maybe this Starfleet social would be something special.



Malcolm found Trip, surprise surprise, in Engineering. After the morning briefing Trip had made a very hasty exit, and Malcolm had spent nearly all day trying to catch up with him. He really wanted to ask Hoshi to go to the ball with him; he knew he’d been a total bastard to her and really wanted to make it up to her, but wanted Trip’s advice on the best way to talk her round. At the briefing she had pointedly ignored him, focusing instead on the Captain, rather than making eyes at him, as she had in the first few days when they had got back from leave.

“Hi Malcolm, what can I do you for?” Trip wiped his hands with an already filthy rag and rose from his position beneath a conduit to talk to his friend.

“Hi Trip, listen, I need your advice on something.”

“Sure, no problem, want to grab some coffee? I’ve got a break due.” Shouting to the nearest engineer where he was going, he motioned for Malcolm to follow him to the mess hall.

“So, Mal, what’s on your mind?” Trip asked, after they were both seated with steaming cups of what passed for coffee aboard Enterprise.

“It's about this ball that’s scheduled for a fortnight away.” Malcolm began.

“Yeah? Should be good fun.”

“I want to ask Hoshi to go with me.”

Trip’s eyes widened and he grinned at his friend. “Great!”

“There’s just a minor problem.”

“Go on.”

“Well, the thing is, I’ve been really busy with the new security systems, and training new security personnel, and I’m really rubbish with this kind of stuff, and well, the truth is, I haven’t actually spoken to her off duty since we got back from leave. I think she might hate me”

Trip’s grin widened. “Oh dear, boy are you in trouble!”

“Stop rubbing it in! I feel awful about it enough as it is, and I feel like I’ve left it too long to talk to her now!”

“You’ve been back from leave for what, a week? You do the horizontal mambo with Hoshi, in the snow, and then you don’t call? Yeah, she probably does hate you.”

At that moment, Hoshi and T’Pol walked in. Pointedly ignoring both men, they got a drink and sat the other end of the mess hall, soon immersed in their own private conversation. Malcolm and Trip watched intently.

“Those two have looked very chummy of late.” Malcolm said. Trip nodded in agreement.

“Maybe I should have a word with the Sub-Commander, get her to put a good word in?” Malcolm suggested. Trip snorted at the suggestion.

“I wouldn’t waste your breath Mal.” He said, before standing up. “Look, I’d better get back, let me know how it goes, ok?” He walked past Hoshi and T’Pol on his way out. “Looking forward to the ball?” he asked them. Both nodded, Hoshi with considerably more enthusiasm than T’Pol. Trip gave her his trademark grin. All his anger towards her seemed to have dissipated. “Hey, Sub-Commander, can’t wait to spin you round the dance floor, maybe teach you a thing or two.” He couldn’t believe he was still trying to flirt with her, but something compelled him.

She raised an arched brow. “Indeed Commander, I look forward to it.” Then there was the beginning of a very small smile.

Trip was flabbergasted. Was she just flirting with me? I think she was? I didn’t know Vulcans knew how! He could feel her inside his head. She, in turn, could feel his shock, albeit pleasurable shock, at their banter. It was much more pleasurable than feeling his anger.

After he had gone, T’Pol watched Malcolm, who was now sitting by himself, watching the pair of them. As Hoshi had her back turned, she could not see the way Malcolm looked at her.

“Do you think Malcolm will be going to the dance?” Hoshi asked, absently stirring the spoon in her coffee. T’Pol sipped her iced tea.

“We have all been expressly ordered to by the Captain. I have never known Lieutenant Reed to disobey a direct order from Captain Archer.” What T’Pol did not tell Hoshi was that she had, with her superior Vulcan hearing, overheard the entire conversation between Trip and Malcolm. It had been highly improper and a most illogical course of action, but seeing Hoshi look so despondent during the morning briefing, and all this morning had prompted her subterfuge.

“Do you think he will be taking anyone? I’m not sure if we’re supposed to take dates or not.” Hoshi continued. T’Pol finished her tea and stood up.

“Do not worry Ensign. As was evidenced by your film, love appears to have a way of ‘working itself out’. If you will excuse me, I must return to duty, but I will arrive at your quarters for 2000 hours, if that is acceptable, for our discussion.” Hoshi nodded, finished her drink, and followed her out.



News of the party had perked everyone’s spirits up. Now that the repairs were more or less completed and their leaves were over, the crew was stuck in a state of almost limbo. There was nothing pressing to be done, and the crew had to make its own amusements. One crewmember, Ensign Darren White, one of Phlox’s nurses, had started a dance class every night for an hour to help those with two left feet. Standing in the turbolift as she rode to Hoshi's floor T’Pol glanced at one of the flyers announcing the class. She had seen it several times before, and she was looking at it now as she headed to Ensign Sato's cabin, bottle of wine in hand. Not that she planned on dancing, of course, but Commander Tucker’s comment earlier today had prompted a thought – she did not know how to dance. Not that it had ever been an issue before, but since her time on Enterprise she had made it a priority to attempt to study human behaviour, and dancing did appear to be a key part of human social interaction, particularly at these ‘balls.’ As second-in-command, T’Pol was particularly keen to hear more about.

She arrived at Hoshi’s quarters at exactly 2000, and pressed the door chime. “Come in” came Hoshi’s voice from inside. T’Pol found the Ensign sitting on the bed in jeans and a t-shirt. “You bought wine!” exclaimed Hoshi. T’Pol nodded.

“Yes. I believe we are to have what is commonly termed a ‘girls’ night’? From my research, it appears that this alcoholic beverage is mandatory.” Hoshi nodded. “I’ll say!” She opened the bottle with practiced ease, and poured two glasses. “You’re developing quite a taste for wine, aren’t you, Sub-Commander?” she said. T’Pol sipped. “Indeed, I find it extremely relaxing. I must admit, I have found meditation of little use recently, and have not been sleeping well.”

“Might this be because of a certain engineer we both know?” Hoshi asked. T’Pol arched her brow at her. “I am unsure, Ensign. I must admit, I do miss the meditation sessions with Commander Tucker. He was quite a relaxing presence, oddly enough. Now, tell me about this ball that we are to attend.”

Hoshi sipped her wine. “Well,” she said, “the last one I went to was my college graduation a few years back. Basically all the guys wear tuxedos-- it's like a very smart, very dressy suit-- and the ladies must wear a ball gown,--a really long, beautiful dress. The whole evening is really nice. You have a nice meal, and something to drink, and a dance. It’s a very civilised, pleasant evening. Usually.”

T’Pol digested this. “This ballgown, I am quite certain that I do not own such an item of clothing, how would I procure one?”

Hoshi smiled. “Its ok, I have several from college back at my parents’ house. I was going to get them to send them to me. You’re more than welcome to borrow one.”

T’Pol was taken aback by this generosity. “That is most kind, thank you. Ensign, I do have another question.”

“Sure, what is it?” Hoshi refilled their glasses. To both Hoshi’s surprise, T’Pol was really putting the wine away and was even ahead of Hoshi.

“I cannot dance.”

Hoshi suppressed a giggle. “You can’t dance, Sub-Commander?”

“No, and if attending this event is mandatory, I intend to fulfil the Captain’s order as best I am able.”

“Maybe we should go to the dance class tonight. It starts in half an hour. If you go every night, then you’ll be perfect for the ball.”

T’Pol considered this. It was a most logical idea, and might provide her with the relaxation she craved. Draining her glass, she nodded. “Indeed Ensign, I believe you may be right.”



It was fifteen minutes before the dance class started and Trip, too wired to do anything, had banged on the door of Malcolm’s quarters, feeling slightly guilty when he answered looking bleary-eyed. He looked like he had been sleeping.

“Trip, everything ok?”

“Do you want to come dancing, Malcolm?”

The security officer’s eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”

“The dance classes, they start in fifteen minutes, I need to do something Malcolm, and I’m too wired to sleep!”

Malcolm nodded reluctantly. “Give me five minutes”

Before she had entered Starfleet their dance teacher, Darren White, had been something of an amateur dance sensation, but an ankle injury dashed any hopes of a professional
career. Now, as she told her class, she only danced for fun. The class was quite busy, and Trip was extremely surprised to see T’Pol standing next to him in line.

“Didn’t expect to see you here.” He murmured to her.

“No, neither did I.” She admitted. “I thought it would be a logical idea, given that I have no experience with human forms of dancing.”

Darren clapped her hands. “Right, ladies! Choose your partners!” Immediately, T’Pol turned to Trip. “Commander.” She said, “would you please be my partner?”

Trip looked at her. He could feel something radiating off her. Was it embarrassment?

“You’re asking me, Sub-Commander, to be your dance partner?” he was shocked. She looked at him impassively.

“Commander”, she said, “given our past history, I would not feel comfortable dancing with any human male other than yourself.”

Trip was shocked. “I didn’t think you’d remembered darlin,’” he murmured in her ear. She turned to look up at him, her eyes burning into his, his lips centimetres from her own. “I am not likely to forget, Commander.” She said. “It was a most agreeable experience.”

Darren's clapping her hands again broke their connection. Trip took a step back, as though he had been physically jolted. “Okay,” Darren said, putting some music on, “shall we dance?”

For the next hour, the pair practised the waltz until they were perfect. Trip felt completely in tune with her, his arm round her waist, his fingers locked with hers, inhaling her smell, feeling her skin next to hers. She felt amazing, he had almost forgotten how good. T’Pol, on the other hand, was having a hard time keeping her control. She too could smell the faint twang of his aftershave, feel his hands on her, almost taste him. She had kept her eyes firmly fixed on the Starfleet logo on his uniform, not daring to look at him lest her control slip, as it had that night after their meditation session, when she had taken him hungrily, and he had responded with equal passion until the early hours, when, finally satisfied, they had fallen asleep in each others’ arms. That could not happen again. It was difficult enough maintaining her composure around him after one night spent together. After two it would be impossible.

After the dance lesson, T’Pol was walking back to her quarters, when Malcolm Reed came up alongside her and began to walk with her.

“Yes, Lieutenant? Can I help you?” T’Pol asked. She knew what this would be about. Shamefully, she had listened to Malcolm and Hoshi’s conversation during the lesson. She really was picking up a lot of bad habits from humans. Lieutenant Reed had not asked Hoshi to the dance. He was not obviously hoping T’Pol could put ‘in a good word’, as he had put it in the mess hall earlier in the day.

“Well, Sub-Commander, I need a favour.”

“Really? How may I be of assistance?”

“Well, the thing is, is that I noticed that you and Hoshi have become friendly recently.”

T’Pol nodded. “Yes, you are correct. I do consider Ensign Sato to be a friend.”

Malcolm continued. “Well, the thing is, is that I was hoping . . . well I wanted to ask Hoshi to come with me to the ball, and, well, I was hoping you might be able to put in a good word for me.” He felt like such a bloody juvenile. Why couldn’t he just ask her? Then he remembered the hours of courage it had taken to ask her to go on leave with him. He really was crap when it came to matters of the heart.

“Why not simply ask her yourself?”

Malcolm eyed the Vulcan suspiciously. How much did she know? Her demeanour gave away nothing, but then, as Malcolm knew, appearances could be deceiving.

“Well, I . . . I” he tailed off, going scarlet. T’Pol decided to end his suffering. “Do not worry, Lieutenant, I will ‘put in a good word’, as you say, with Ensign Sato on your behalf when I next see her. Will that be sufficient?”

Malcolm broke into a grin. “Yes, Sub-Commander, that will do just fine.”



The next day, during breakfast, a very similar conversation between the Communications Officer and the Chief Engineer was taking place.

“Come on, Hoshi, please, just sound her out. I’m not asking her if she's gonna say no. She’s already made me feel like enough of an idiot without me humiliating myself.” Trip said as he munched his way through a bowl of cereal. Hoshi had toast, and looked at him sympathetically.

“Ok Trip, I’ll ask her before dance classes today. You two caused quite a storm yesterday the way you were looking at each other. By the way she was looking at you, I’d say you had no problem.”

“Thanks Hoshi.” Trip cursed himself inside. Why, after all they had been through, did he still persist in pursuing the Vulcan? He couldn’t help it, there was something about her that he couldn’t control, and the way she had looked at him last night, well, it nearly made him go weak at the knees. He yawned. Again, last night he’d had no sleep. He felt drained. He stood up and excused himself to Hoshi. He had an appointment with Phlox before his shift was due to start.



Dr. Phlox ran a tricorder over Trip’s body, made a few adjustments, and completed his scan.

“We’re done, Mr. Tucker,” he said. Trip swung himself up from the biobed in Sickbay into an upright position.

“Well?” he said expectantly. Dr. Phlox gave him his trademark smile. “Mr. Tucker, there is nothing wrong with you. Well, nothing a few early nights wouldn’t cure.” Trip gave an exasperated sigh.

“But Doc, that’s the problem! I can’t sleep!” he looked around to check there was no one around. “The thing is Doc, well, me an’ T’Pol, well, we . . .” the look on the doctor’s face said he already knew. Trip carried on, blushing.

“It was only one time, after a meditation session, and it was, I mean, it was incredible, but since, well, things have been different.”

“Different how, Mr. Tucker?” Phlox asked. As Trip began to tell him, the doctor began searching a database. “Well, I feel things more. Like, when she’s in a room before I walk in, I can tell she’s in there, and when we stand too close; I can feel what she’s feeling. Like last night, when we were dancin’-“ Phlox cut him off.

“That’s enough now, Mr. Tucker, I believe I have found the source of your problem.” He showed Trip the screen he had been looking at. It was entitled ‘Vulcan Bonding Rituals’.
Trip looked at Phlox for an explanation.

“Mr. Tucker, I believe what you are suffering from has something to do with this. Unfortunately, much of what we know about Vulcan mating and bonding practices is either very limited or purely hypothetical, and although Sub-Commander T’Pol did provide me with extensive information, should she enter her mating cycle unexpectedly, you will have to bear with me. You see, when a Vulcan takes a mate, it is far more than the sexual act itself. There is a psychological bond as well as a physical bond. Most likely her choice of you was the result of extensive thought and reflection. Sex is not something Vulcans take lightly.”

“But what about T’Pol’s bonded husband, Koss?” Trip was confused. A medic walked into Sickbay, looking for equipment. Phlox waited until she had left before continuing.

“Koss, from what I understand, had been bonded to T’Pol at a very early age, when she was too young to understand what was happening. Now, of course, she is a grown, headstrong woman. Koss was not her choice. I suspect her time on Enterprise has opened her mind to new possibilities and experiences outside of Vulcan ritual.” Phlox placed a hand on the young engineer’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile.

“You and T’Pol are bonded now, Mr. Tucker. She will always be with you, and you with her. You were not a mate selected for her; she selected you of her own volition. For a Vulcan to do that to a human is a great honour indeed. I would be very flattered, Mr. Tucker.”

“Thanks Doc, but how does it help me?”

Phlox smiled. “From what I gather, this voluntary bond cannot be broken. Each time you see each other, the bond will become stronger. You cannot fight it, your . . . urges will be too great, and eventually they will overcome even T’Pol’s controls. I suggest you do something about it now before it's too late.”

“Does T’Pol know all of this?” Trip asked. The Doctor nodded.

“Oh yes, I should think so, but, remember, Mr. Tucker, she is a Vulcan; you are human. You deal with emotions, and love, in very different ways. The fact that she chose a human as well as a Starfleet officer for her chosen mate could have severe repercussions for both of you, both in terms of your professional and personal lives.”



After leaving Sickbay, Trip headed straight for the bridge. He needed to talk to the Vulcan. Now.



T’Pol was reviewing some science logs when she received and encrypted message from Hoshi. You have an admirer, it read. It’s Trip. He wants to ask you to the ball. T’Pol replied quickly. Yes. Yyou have one too. Lt. Reed. I told him to ask you.

As she sent the message, the doors to the bridge opened, and Trip Tucker walked through them.

“Commander.” She said. He glared at her.

“Sub-Commander, we have an issue in Engineering I need your immediate assistance with.” He said coolly. She dipped her head. “Of course, I’ll come right away.” Leaving her post, she followed Trip into the turbo lift, but instead of heading for engineering, he put in a new floor number.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“To talk. We have things to discuss.” He said in response. There was no more talk between them until they reached Trip’s quarters.

“Is this really necessary, Commander?” T’Pol asked. “Can this not wait until we are off duty?”

“No!” snapped Trip. He walked right up to her until they stood nose-to-nose. “Why didn’t you tell me about the bond?”

Her nostrils flared in anger. “You have spoken with Dr. Phlox?”

“You’re damned right I have! I thought I’d been going nuts the past few months, T’Pol! Now I find out you’ve known all along and just not said anything?”

“Trip, calm down and let me explain.” T’Pol said. Trip stood with his arms crossed. “I’m listening.”

T’Pol sat on the bed. “After the night we had . . . sexual relations, I did not realise what exactly had happened. It was not until after my marriage to Koss that I realised he and I no longer had a bond. Then when you decided to transfer away from Enterprise, I realised I had a bond with you. But, you were so offhand, and angry all the time, I simply assumed you did not feel anything for me, that the bond was simply one-sided.” She looked at him imploringly, and Trip saw for the first time the difficulty she was having keeping her emotions under control.

“The time I have spent on Enterprise has altered many of my attitudes, which I am having difficulty coming to terms with, Commander. And, what you must understand, is that Vulcans very rarely ‘choose’ a mate. And never with a human. The intensity of our lovemaking startled me; and, if I am honest, it frightened me. I wanted to be sure of how I – and you – felt before revealing it to you.”

Trip sat down beside her and took her hands. He could feel all the emotions she had described, and, somewhere in there, another one. Hope.

“Darlin’, why didn’t you just say something? I would have tried to understand.”

“As I have tried to explain –“ T’Pol’s explanation was cut short as Trip pulled her towards him and kissed her hungrily. The touch of her lips and his, coupled with the intensity of her response, sent shock waves down his spine. When they broke off for air, their cheeks were flushed and they were gasping for breath. Trip leaned in for another kiss, but T’Pol stopped him.

“Trip, this is a bad idea. We should continue this conversation after we have finished duty, and a more leisurely pace.”



“Everything ok in Engineering, Sub-Commander?” Captain Archer asked as T’Pol entered the bridge. She nodded. “Of course, Captain. Commander Tucker had some equations he wished to check with me. He was quite insistent.”

Archer smiled at her. He knew that Trip well. “And were they correct?”

T’Pol arched a brow at him. “Yes, Captain, Commander Tucker is an excellent engineer, he need not have worried.” She disliked lying to her Captain about her whereabouts, but now was not the time or the place for such a discussion.

The rest of the shift passed without incident, although Archer could sense the crew’s frustrations at sitting idly in the spaceport. It was beginning to get to him, too. Hopefully the upcoming ball would be enough to keep everyone’s spirit’s up, and then afterwards they might be given an actual assignment for them to sink their teeth into. As T’Pol was entering the turbo list when her shift finished, he called to her. “Hold the lift, Commander!”

“How are things, T’Pol?” he asked when they were inside. “Are you looking forward to the ball?”

T’Pol nodded. “Yes, Captain, I believe it will allow me the opportunity to observe humans interacting in a social setting.”

“Do you have a date yet?” Archer asked her.

“Not as yet, no Captain, although I believe that Ensign Sato and I will accompany each other if neither of us can find a suitable male crew member. Have you found a date?”

Archer laughed, and shook his head. “I think I might fly solo to this one, T’Pol. It's always much more interesting that way. You can move around a lot without worrying about your date.” The turbolift opened at their deck, and the pair began to walk towards the mess hall.

“Any plans for this evening?” Archer asked.

“Indeed. Ensign Sato and I have been attending Ensign White’s dance classes in anticipation of the upcoming event.”

Archer laughed in shock. “You! Dancing! T’Pol, I would never have thought it possible!”

“Your sentiments are similar to that of Commander Tucker’s.” T’Pol admitted.

“Well, make sure Ensign White teaches you the Tango, Sub-Commander.”

“The Tango? I am unfamiliar with this dance. I will ask Ensign White this evening.”

“Every Starfleet ball I’ve ever been to, there’s been a Tango. It’s the dance of love, pure emotion set to music.”

T’Pol didn’t like the sound of this dance. “I doubt it would be a dance I would participate in, Captain, ‘pure emotion set to music’ would be most improper for a Vulcan.”

“Surely dancing in general is highly improper for a Vulcan to engage in?” Archer countered, a smile on his face. T’Pol arched an eyebrow in agreement. “Indeed, Captain.”



T’Pol certainly seems to be getting into this dancin’ stuff, Trip mused to himself that evening at their dance class. He was surprised. Again, this evening they were perfecting the Waltz, not that Trip and T’Pol needed any more practice, they had more than mastered the steps at the previous lesson. Hoshi and Malcolm, however, were another matter entirely. Hoshi was proving quite adept at it, yet poor Malcolm, despite his best efforts, really did have two left feet. When was he gonna pluck up the courage and ask her to go with him? Trip mused.

“It would appear you and I have a similar problem, Commander.” T’Pol’s voice brought him back down to earth. He looked down at the elfin Vulcan in his arms.

“And how’s that, Sub-Commander?” he asked. Since their impromptu chat this morning, they had not had time to continue their discussion, and Trip was hoping they could after the class was over, and maybe some neuro-pressure too . . .

“I spoke with Lieutenant Reed last night. It would appear that he wishes to invite Hoshi to the upcoming ball.”

“How’s that our problem?”

“Well, Lieutenant Reed is your friend, Hoshi is mine, maybe we should engineer a scenario where his feelings become apparent.”

Trip raised a surprised eyebrow. “That’s very devious for a Vulcan, T’Pol, even bordering on, dare I say it, human.”

“Indeed, however, I believe that without our intervention, he may not ask her.”

“Well, hang on now! Why can’t she ask him? Isn’t this the age of sexual equality?”

“Indeed, you are correct, Commander. Please follow me.” She danced him over to where Hoshi and Malcolm were dancing.

“Excuse me, Ensign Sato, Lieutenant Reed, but Commander Tucker and I have a proposition for you both.”

“You do?” Hoshi asked. Trip looked at her in shock. “We do?”

“Indeed. Commander Tucker has me to accompany him to the ball next Friday, and, to avoid the outward sense of impropriety it might create, I was hoping that the pair of you might accompany us.”

“You mean a double-date?” Hoshi asked, noticing Trip’s look of embarrassment as she said it.

“Indeed, a ‘double-date’”

“We’d love to.” Said Malcolm quickly, “that is, if you would go with me to the ball, Hoshi?”

“Well, Malcolm, I’d love to.” Hoshi said.

“Fine, that’s settled then.” Trip said, his cheeks a deep red, and dragged T’Pol away.

“What the hell did you just say about me askin’ you to the ball?” he said.

“Commander, I already knew of your intentions to accompany me, Hoshi told me of your conversation this morning. I merely used it as a pretence for Lieutenant Reed to ask Ensign Sato to accompany him without the pressures inherent in their going alone.”

Trip wagged a finger at her. “Sub-Commander, you’re a lot more human than people give you credit for.”



After dance class, Malcolm walked Hoshi back to her quarters.

“Trip didn’t seen too thrilled at the prospect of taking the Sub-Commander to the ball.” he said. Hoshi smiled at him. “Well, he did ask me to sound her out this morning as a potential date.”

Malcolm shook his head. “I’ll never understand it.”

“Understand what?”

“Her and him. That attraction. She’s beautiful, to be sure, but she’s a Vulcan, for god’s sake. Not exactly compatible with a human.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Hoshi said. They had arrived back at her quarters.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you on duty tomorrow then. Good night Malcolm.” Hoshi turned to open her door, but Malcolm caught her arm.

“Do you mind if I come in? Just for a second.” He asked. She nodded.

Once inside, Malcolm sat down next to her on the bed, and took her hands in his. “Hoshi, look, I want to apologise for how I’ve been acting recently, I’ve been a real bastard. You see, I’m just not very good at this sort of thing; past experiences have left me rather wary. It took me four weeks to pluck up the guts to ask you to spend your leave with me. But you didn’t deserve for me to ignore you as I have. The two weeks I spent with you were amazing, and I would like to spend more time with you. If you’d like?”

Hoshi nodded enthusiastically. “I’d love to Malcolm! I was beginning to think you weren’t interested.”

Oh no,“ said Malcolm, pulling her towards him. “Quite the contrary.”



On the deck above, an almost identical scene was being played out as Trip was walking T’Pol back to her quarters.

“How are you enjoying the dance classes, Sub-Commander?” he asked.

“I am finding them an interesting alternative to mediation, Commander, they seem to relax me the way that mediation cannot.”

“Really? You surprise me.”

“Indeed, I was surprised myself. Having not been accustomed to dancing before, I find I am pleased by the activity.” They reached her quarters.

“Look, T’Pol, do you think I could come in for a minute? I think there’s some stuff we’ve got to discuss.”

“Of course, we must resume our conversation from earlier today.” She entered her quarters. He followed. She walked into the bathroom and shut the door. A few moments later, she emerged in blue silk pyjamas. Trip swallowed hard. He had forgotten how good she looked in those. She sat herself down on the bed.

“Commander, I believe I owe you an apology.”

“Really? You’re apologisin’ to me?”

“Yes. I did not realise that our mating would cause us to be bonded in the way we have.”

“Well, what did you think would happen?”

“I admit, I was unsure of the psychological effects it would have, for both of us. Mating with a human is virtually unheard of in recorded Vulcan history. I had no guidance as to what the repercussions might be.”

“But you did it anyway? A highly illogical course of action, Sub-Commander.”

“Yes, I agree.”

“So why did you do it?”

“I . . . I was curious.”

“Really.” Trip moved towards the bed and stood over her. Then he leant down, and, using his superior body weight, gently forced her onto the bed, with him on top of her. He could feel her heart pounding. “Still curious? I know I am.”

“Commander – “

“T’Pol, to my mind, and from what Phlox said, this bond thing we have, it’s not something that can be controlled by either of us, including you. Why don’t we just stop fighting it and see what happens?”

“But Commander, our pairing is most illogical.”

“You’re right about that, Sub-Commander.” With that, Trip lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her, tentatively at first, but when he felt her mouth respond, hungrily, letting him feel the passion that she felt for him. He responded with equal fervour. He put his hand on her bare leg, and gently felt his way up her smooth, warm skin towards her shorts. She broke away, breathless.

“Commander, we cannot do this-“

“I think you can call me Trip, T’Pol.”

“Trip, I think this would be a bad idea.”

“Really?” Trip’s mouth had moved from hers and was investigating her ear. She found it most pleasurable, and as a result extremely hard to concentrate. “Why is that?”

“Because, we are acting on pure emotion. Maybe a mediation session would relax us both and allow further discussion.”

“A meditation session? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I assure you, I am not.” She pushed him away from her as if he weighed nothing, and moved to her mediation table, where she lit a single candle, and motioned for Trip to join her. Reluctantly, and realising things weren’t going to go any further unless he did, Trip joined her.

They had been attempting to meditate for over half an hour when Trip’s eyes flew open.

“I can’t do this T’Pol, its just not doin’ it for me.”

“I confess, I find it hard to meditate this evening.”

“Wait, I’ve got an idea.” Moving to her computer station, he began typing some commands until soft music filled the air.

“What are you doing?” T’Pol asked, as Trip motioned for her to stand up.

“You said that dancing relaxes you, what do you think – Shall we dance, T’Pol?” he asked, holding out his hand to her. She took it. They began to waltz together around her quarters, made difficult by the fact that they were far too small for such an activity. But, it had the desired effect. Trip felt all the tension go out of her body, and his also. Soon their movements got smaller and smaller, until they were swaying together to the music, her head resting gently against his chest.

“I love you.” Trip whispered in he ear. She looked up at him.

“What?”

“I said, I love you. You don’t have to say it back, I’m just tellin’ you how I feel. I’ve loved you since our first night together, possibly even longer. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, but, I was so angry after your wedding and all, plus I just figured you didn’t need me poking my nose in places it didn’t belong.”

“Trip, I-“

“No, like I said darlin’, you don’t need to say it back if you don’t feel it.” He took her face in his hands, gently stroking her cheek. She pulled his head down to hers and kissed him.

“Show me.” She said, pushing him back onto the bed.



Trip awoke at 0800 that morning. He groaned. He had a shift at 0900. He rolled over to look at his bedfellow. T’Pol lay next to him, covered in a sheet, watching him.

“Good morning.” She said.

He smiled. “Good morning yourself.”

He felt better after the past few hours of sleep last night than he had in months. At least now he knew why. Their lovemaking last night had been brief, but spectacular. There had been no time for talk or tenderness. It had been based on pure passion alone, and a need that had to be satisfied immediately. Trip was sure he had purple bruises on his arms from where she had forced him onto the bed. After they had fully satisfied each other, they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms and a tangle of sheets.

He swung himself out of bed and began looking for his clothes. T’Pol had been rather insistent about getting him out of them as soon as possible last night. He hoped they weren’t damaged; otherwise he’d have some explaining to do.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

Trip spied his underwear and jumpsuit.

“Work, darlin’. We’ve got a briefing in an hour.”

T’Pol rolled over and looked at the clock. “You are right. I will go and get dressed.” She went to get up, before Trip pulled her back down next to him and kissed her.

“Now you can get dressed.” He said.



Hoshi eyed T’Pol and Trip at that morning’s briefing. Both of them looked relaxed, but from the twinkle in Trip’s eye, she suspected that he hadn’t had much sleep. Not that she could say anything. Malcolm had finally staggered out of her quarters at 0600 that morning, just in time for a quick shower before his Security team briefing at 0700 before this briefing with the Captain. He was looking surprisingly chipper considering he had only had two hours sleep last night.

“Trip, how are the repairs coming along?” The Captain asked, after he had finished briefing the crew with the Starfleet daily updates he received each day.

“They’re coming along just fine, Captain. All the major repairs are done, with a little help of the spaceport engineers. Now we’ve just got loads of little things that need doing. We’ll be finished by the end of the week at the latest.”

“Good.” Archer turned to look at Dr. Phlox. “How are our crew looking?”

“They are fully recovered, Captain, everyone is well. A few of the crew are overtired, I fear,” Phlox said looking at T’Pol and Trip, “but nothing a few early nights wouldn’t cure.”

“Good. Malcolm, what about the new security protocols you have been formulating?”
Malcolm turned to face the captain, suppressing a yawn. “They’re coming along fine, Captain. I’m trying to establish a rota so each crew member spends some time with either me or Sub-Commander T’Pol working on the new security protocols.”

“I have been assisting Lieutenant Reed with his security programmes, using some Vulcan procedures as a model.” T’Pol supplied. “I believe they will enhance our existing security. I have also suggested to Lieutenant Reed that we could co-ordinate some self-defence classes for the crew as well.”

Malcolm nodded in agreement. “We should be prepared while we have this spare time, Captain.”

Archer concurred. “Sounds like an excellent idea.” He picked up the PADD that sat next to him, glanced at it briefly, then looked at the rest of the crew. “Admiral Greer has sent me the details for the upcoming ball. It appears that most of the space station has been invited, except for those on duty. There should be over a thousand people there.”

“That’s one hell of a party!” Trip exclaimed.

“Indeed. It's to be held in the Zephram Cochrane ballroom, 1900 hours. To be seated for 2000 for a three-course meal. I’ll send round a copy of the menu. It should be a good night.”

“I hope so. T'Pol have been taking Ensign White’s dance lessons.” Hoshi said.

“Well, let’s hope you get to put them to good use! Dismissed!”



The rest of the week passed without incident. Thanks to Trip’s excellent engineering skills, repairs were completed well ahead of schedule, Malcolm and T’Pol’s security protocols were incorporated into Enterprise's existing systems, and the pair of them started the self-defence classes. T’Pol, however, had not seen anything of Trip since their night together. She had missed several dance classes because of the self-defence classes and her shift rotation. And as his shifts had been different from hers, they had not seen each other except in passing in the mess hall or at briefings. Trip found that he had missed her like mad, and was increasingly looking forward to the ball on Saturday night as the weekend got closer. He had pulled his tux out of the back of the wardrobe in his quarters. He couldn’t quite remember why he had brought it with him as it had not seen the light of day for quite some time. But he tried it on to make sure it fitted and took it down to the spaceport to be pressed. Each crewmember had been allocated a room in the spaceport for the evening, so he would pick it up on Saturday afternoon.

T’Pol awoke on Saturday morning at 0700 hours with a slightly queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She went to the sports deck, worked out until her body was dripping with sweat, showered, ate breakfast, tidied her quarters, and packed an overnight bag for that evening. She and Hoshi were in neighbouring rooms, and had agreed to travel to the spaceport together that afternoon, to check in. Hoshi had received three gowns from her parents, one of which was for T’Pol. She was quite perplexed that Hoshi had insisted that ‘getting ready’ for the ball would take them most of the afternoon, despite T’Pol’s assertion that it was a highly inefficient and illogical use of time.

“Hoshi, it usually only takes me 15 minutes to shower and clothe myself for whatever occasion I attend, either social or professional.” T’Pol had explained. Hoshi had laughed.

“T’Pol, part of the experience of a ball is getting ready. You know, having a nice bath, painting your nails, doing your hair and makeup, being girly for once rather than having to wear Starfleet uniforms. They boys won’t know what’s hit them when they see us!”

“Hit them? Ensign, you did not mention that we would be required to engage them in combat.”

“No, that’s not what I meant!” Hoshi exclaimed. “It's an expression. It means that they’ll be stunned to see that we’re actually women under our uniforms.”

“I am sure that Lieutenant Reed and Commander Tucker are aware we are human. They have, after all, seen under our uniforms.”

Despite her protestations, T’Pol had to admit that she was intrigued, if not a little excited about this evening. She had yet to see what a ball gown actually was; the Starfleet database on the subject had proved quite limited. Furthermore, the prospect of ‘being girly’ as Hoshi had described it also intrigued her. It was not something she had ever participated in before, and she saw it as an ideal way of enhancing her understanding of human females. By early afternoon, however, an hour before she was due to meet Hoshi at the shuttle bay, the queasiness had not subsided, and she made her way to sickbay.

Phlox was in a very good mood. “Ah! Sub-Commander T’Pol, how pleasant to see you! Are you excited about tonight? I must admit, it has been quite some time since I participated in one of these events, the last one I enjoyed immensely.”

“Yes Doctor, I admit, I too, am looking forward to tonight’s activities. However, there is one matter I would like to discuss with you.”

“Yes? Is everything all right?”

T’Pol explained how she felt to Phlox. He made her sit on a biobed and ran his medical tricorder over her. “Hum, nothing out of the ordinary, Sub-Commander. Queasy, you say? Hmmm.” He looked at her eyes, took her temperature, examined her brain waves. Heightened anxiety. “Is this the first human social activity of this nature you have attended, Sub-Commander.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Ah, do you have a date?”

“I am attending with Commander Tucker.” Phlox put away his medical tricorder and smiled.

“Well then, I think I know what’s causing your queasiness.” Phlox said. “It's nothing serious, very common among most species.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a simple matter of nerves, Sub-Commander. You appear to be nervous about this evening.”

“Nervous? Vulcans do not get nervous, Doctor.”

“Well, it would appear that the prospect of attending a ball with Commander Tucker in a dress suit has certainly got you nervous, Sub-Commander!”

T’Pol arched an eyebrow and got off the biobed. “Thank you for your time, Doctor, I will see you at the ball.”

Phlox chuckled to himself as she walked out. “And you, T’Pol.”



It was 1900 hours in the lounge at the spaceport, and Malcolm and Trip stood nervously in their tuxedos, nursing their drinks and waiting for their dates. The room led into the Zephram Cockrane Lounge, where a female pianist was playing ‘The nearness of you’ by the twentieth century female singer Norah Jones. Trip pulled angrily at the restrictive collar.

“Goddamned things! I hate these Malcolm!”

“Me too. Where are they? They’re late, and Hoshi is never late.”

“Neither is T’Pol. Usually. Obviously they’re too busy paintin’ their nails.”

“What do you think she’ll wear?”

“T’Pol? Beats me? Probably what she wears for work.”

Malcolm turned round to the entrance to the lounge, and felt his jaw drop. “Er, Trip, I don’t think so. Look.”

Trip turned round to the entrance to the lounge and felt his heart stop.

T’Pol was wearing a jade green, fitted, strapless dress, which clung to her in all the right places, nipped in her already tiny waist to nothing and showed off her bronzed, toned shoulders. In a pair of Hoshi’s heels, she was at least three inches taller than she usually was. With painted nails and a smudge of mascara and lipstick, she looked absolutely stunning. Hoshi, seeing the look on Trip’s face when he saw her, knew that it had been worth the hour and a half of persuading it had taken her to get T’Pol to dress it up a little.

“Look at Trip’s face! God that dress is a winner!” she whispered in T’Pol’s ear.

“I find baring my shoulders to be very strange, Ensign, and this 'make up' that you have applied to my face feels very strange.” T’Pol murmured. She had been most reluctant to wear it when Hoshi had brought it out. After the hour and a half spent persuading her to wear it, she had finally said, “T’Pol, if you don’t wear it they won’t let you in. Then you’ll be violating Captain Archer’s direct order.” T’Pol had agreed then although when they arrived she realised that while Hoshi may have deceived her a bit over the admissions policy. Not only was every other woman was wearing similar attire, but Trip’s jaw had literally dropped open when he saw her. She felt the queasiness she had been experiencing all day suddenly disappear.

“It would appear that he is quite impressed by my choice of clothing.” She concurred as they approached their dates.

“Wow. T’Pol, you look . . .”Trip’s voice trailed off as he took another look at her.

“You look very nice, Sub-Commander.” Malcolm agreed.

“You both do, Hoshi, you look beautiful, wow, I . . . well, I guess I’m just speechless!”

“That is an impressive feat, Commander. I do not believe I have ever seen it before.” T’Pol said. Hoshi laughed. Offering his arm, Trip and T’Pol entered the Zephram Cochrane Lounge.

“You do look amazing, Hoshi.” Malcolm whispered to her, slipping his arm around her waist. She was wearing a black silk dress, with a slit that went to mid thigh, revealing her toned, tanned legs. Her glossy black hair was piled on top of her hair and secured with a diamond hair-slide. She, like T’Pol, looked stunning. Hoshi blushed.

“Thanks Malcolm, you don’t look too bad yourself.” Malcolm looked absolutely gorgeous tonight in a black tuxedo and cummerbund, his black hair slicked back and white rose in his lapel, which he presented to her.

T’Pol stole a glance at Trip as they walked into the lounge. He was looking at her. He had not stopped looking at her since she had arrived. She could feel his desire for her radiating off him, and also another feeling. Was it pride? Was he proud to been seen with her?

In fact, Trip was proud to be with her. His jaw had not been the only one that had dropped when T'Pol and Hoshi had entered as many of Enterprise's crew members, and a fair few from the spaceport, had seen a completely new side to their First Officer. Trip beamed. T'Pol was on his arm as they entered the ball, much to the chagrin of the male crew who watched Trip enviously as he escorted the beautiful Vulcan. T’Pol had also noticed the crewmen looking at her, but she also caught the crewwomen glancing at Trip. Most of them were more used to seeing Trip in his grease-covered Starfleet uniform with dirty marks all over his face than in a black tuxedo with a deep maroon bow tie and cummerbund, his blonde hair neatly combed, and, most of all, a beaming smile that stretched from ear to ear. T’Pol felt proud to be seen with him as well.

“You look . . . very nice tonight, Commander.” She said.

“Thanks, but I think you can call me Trip now.” He smiled down at her.

“As you wish.”

“Can I call you T’Pol, Sub-Commander?” Trip asked. She arched an eyebrow.

“We have been intimate several times now, Trip, so yes, I believe 'T’Pol' is appropriate. But not when we are on duty.”

“We’re not on duty now. Would you like some wine?” he added, as a waitress came round with complementary drinks.

“Yes. Thank you.” They inspected the seating plan. They were sitting with Hoshi, Malcolm, Travis, Ensign Warren, and a few others whose names Trip did not recognise.



A few hours later, their meal eaten, the plates cleared away, and copious amounts of alcohol consumed, the music began to play. Part of Starfleet’s orchestra had been brought especially from Earth to play for them. Soon the dance floor began to fill up.

T’Pol observed all this from her vantage point next to Trip at their table, which afforded her an excellent view of the dance floor. All in all, she decided, it had been an extremely pleasurable evening so far. At Hoshi’s advice, she had decided not to opt for her usual meal of raw vegetables, and had agreed to try the menu that was offered, which was lasagne, and, much to her and Trip’s surprise had wolfed it all but the meat portions down, . This meal was coupled with the bottles of wine that kept arriving at their table. Despite the quite obvious attention he had received from several of the women at the party, he had not taken his eyes from her all night. Currently he was trailing his hand up her bare arm, smiling slightly inebriated at her.

“Shall we dance?” he asked her, with a twinkle in his eye. “Would be rude to waste all that practice.”

“Yes, I agree. To attend this ball and not dance would be highly illogical.” She rose and joined him on the dance floor. Thankfully, the lessons had paid off, and they were soon into the rhythm of the music, Trip holding her much closer than he had during the lessons.

“You look amazing tonight, T’Pol.” He whispered in her ear.

“I believe you may be inebriated, Trip.”

“Probably. Probably definitely. But you still look beautiful.”

“How can you be both 'probably' and 'definitely' inebriated simultaneously?”

“Jeez, T’Pol, just take the compliment will you!” he exclaimed, lowering his head to place a delicate kiss on her bare shoulder. The feel of his lips on her skin felt ripples of desire through her.

“Trip, I believe now is neither the time or the place for such a display.” T’Pol whispered to him, glancing around the room. No one seemed to have noticed.

“Wanna go somewhere more appropriate?” He murmured suggestively. She took a step back. “Trip –“

He pulled her back into his arms. “Come on T’Pol, I’m only playing with you! It's just . . . well, I’ve never seen you look so goddamned beautiful, and you’re driving me nuts!”

She looked at him for a second, before letting him take her in his arms. “Thank you.” She murmured back to him. They danced together for the next few moments, enjoying the music. T’Pol felt extremely relaxed; she could not recall a meditation session that had left her feeling this sedate and at peace. Dancing, she mused, was indeed a most beneficial activity.

The next song started. T’Pol recognised the music immediately. “It’s the Tango.” She said. Trip grinned, tightening his grip round her waist. “You’re definitely not going anywhere for this one. I’ve been practicing.”

“You have?” The tango had been one of the last dances they had been taught. Captain Archer had called it ‘the dance of love, pure emotion set to music’. He had not been far wrong, and T’Pol had not been very good at it. She had, according to Ensign White, been unable to put enough emotion into the dance. “It's pure passion, Sub-Commander.” She had explained. “You have to release your inhibitions.”

“Trip, perhaps you fail to remember I was not proficient at this particular dance.”

“Come on, we’ll be fine. Just relax. Feel the music.” The song kicked in and he spun her round smoothly in his arms so she had her back to him. He traced a hand up her bare arm, to rest it on her shoulder. “Get rid of those Vulcan inhibitions, T’Pol. Let yourself go.” he whispered in her ear. T’Pol exhaled deeply, closing her eyes, feeling her whole body relax. She let the sound of the music fill her ears, until she could hear, or feel anything other than the beat of the music.

From that moment on, T’Pol danced perfectly. It was almost as if she and Trip were the only two dancing. Their eyes fixed solely on each other, they moved across the dance floor in unison, not noticing that everyone else had cleared the dance floor and was watching them.

“I’ll be damned.” Muttered Malcolm, “I never knew she had it in her.”

“Look at them, Malcolm!” exclaimed Hoshi. “You can almost see the tension between the two of them!”

“I’ll say! That electricity could power Enterprise for years” he chuckled.

The song ended. T’Pol could feel the sweat running down her back. Breathlessly, she looked up at Trip. He too was sweating, his cheeks flushed, his eyes glittering.

“Boy, T’Pol, that was some dance! I thought you said you were crap!”

“It would appear I felt the music, Commander.” T’Pol replied. She looked around. The entire room had been watching them. The next song started, and, thankfully, couples started to fill the dance floor again. Hoshi came up to them.

“Wow! Guys! That was amazing! Where did you learn to dance like that? It definitely wasn’t from the same classes I went to!”

Trip laughed. “Practice, Hoshi, practice!”

“You’ve got some rhythm, T’Pol!” Hoshi said. T’Pol raised an eyebrow. “Thank you, Hoshi. I believe Ensign White’s classes were most beneficial.”



At 0145 T’Pol decided it was time for bed. She had more than fulfilled the Captain’s order in staying for the party; and, she conceded, it had been a most pleasurable and stimulating evening. Maybe she should endeavour to become more involved with the social activities aboard Enterprise, other than the occasional movie night. She glanced over at Hoshi and Malcolm. They were sitting next to each other, not talking-- just looking at each other, oblivious to everyone else in the room. Malcolm was trailing his arm gently up and down her arm, his other hand clasped tightly around hers. T'Pol looked up at Trip, who was standing talking to Travis and Captain Archer. His blonder hair was ruffled and unruly, and he had discarded his jacket, tie and cummerbund. His shirt was untucked and wrinkled. He looked gorgeous, and T’Pol felt something for the human she had not known existed in Vulcans. It was certainly not something she had ever experienced before, certainly not with Koss, and she had been bonded with him since she had been a child. This was something . . . different; more intense; more human.

T’Pol sighed. Was that her problem? Had she been spending so much time with humans it was affecting her emotional control? Girl chats with Hoshi over wine, movie nights and dance lessons, not to mention her choice of attire and her dancing this evening, were the complete antithesis of everything she had been brought up to believe in: order, discipline, control. If her mother were here she would have been ashamed. Yet, T’Pol did not feel ashamed, she felt . . . liberated, free, happy.

A certain drunken blonde engineer sat down next to her interrupting her thoughts. “You ok, T’Pol? You looked kinda out of it there.”

“I am fine. I was just thinking.”

“Really? About what?”

T’Pol looked over at Malcolm and Hoshi again. “They are a good match.”

Trip nodded. “Been hopin’ for a while that would happen.”

“Trip. . . I have been thinking about us and our situation.”

“Go on.”

Despite the fact that he was more than a little smashed, Trip didn’t like the sound of that..

“We have been bonded now for quite some time, and have been intimate several times. It is . . . an enjoyable experience. I have come to realise that I . . . have a very high regard for you. I . . . I . . . feel for you.”

Trip was shocked. That wasn’t the brush off I usually get from a ‘we have to talk’ speech. “You what? I thought Vulcans didn’t have 'feelings'?”

“That is untrue. Vulcans have feelings as intense as any human. We simply chose to suppress them.”

“Well, why aren’t you suppressing yours?”

T’Pol looked at him, deep into his eyes full of concern for her. She felt no fear.

“I cannot. And, more importantly, I do not wish to.”

Trip nearly fell off his chair in shock. “What!”

“Trip, I would like us to explore the possibilities of a monogamous relationship with each other.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Would that be acceptable to you?”

Trip grabbed her and pulled her close. “I’ll say.” He moved in to kiss her, but T’Pol pulled back. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

“I cannot display affection in public.” She murmured. He grinned at her and grabbed his jacket. “Well now, guess we’ll just have to find somewhere private.”



0400 hours. Trip rolled over onto his back, using the corner of the bed sheet to wipe the sweat from his eye.

“Wow. That was amazing.”

“It was extremely pleasurable.” T’Pol lay next to him on the double bed. When they arrived back at T’Pol’s room, they practically torn each other’s clothes off. Two hours of passionate sex later, they were finally satisfied and exhausted.

“I’ll say. I don’t know what it is, but sex with you is incredible. The best ever.”

“I believe it is due to our mental bond, it allows for heightened pleasure and stimulation during sexual activities.” Trip nestled her into the crook of his arm, planting a sweaty kiss on the top of her head.

“What happens when we get back to Enterprise?” he asked. T’Pol sat up to face him.

“I admit I am . . . unsure.”.

“Well look, T’Pol, I’ll be honest with you. Even before the neuro-pressure I felt something for you. Now I have you, I’m not letting you go, fraternisation policy or not. I care about you too much for that.”

“We will have to be careful, Trip. If we are caught then we could face a transfer, or disciplinary action, or both.”

Trip grinned and ruffled her already dishevelled hair. “I guess we can keep us a secret if Hoshi and Malcolm can behave themselves!”




Trip left her quarters at about 1000 the next morning, despite his protestations. T’Pol would have made him leave earlier, but she had been so tired she had slept longer than she thought. She had been concerned about Trip being caught doing the ‘walk of shame,’ as he called it, back to his room, even if it was only a few rooms down. After he had gone, she had showered and changed, and carefully picked up Hoshi’s dress and retrieved its hanger from the floor. Then she went to get some breakfast. There were several Enterprise crewmen in the mess hall of the spaceport, all looking a little the worse for wear. A few of the crew, mostly women, gave her a knowing smile when they saw her, but most of them were oblivious to her, concentrating on their breakfasts.

After breakfast, she went back to her room and sent a communication to Hoshi, *‘Is it a suitable time for me to return your dress?’* *‘Of course, I’ll see you in a second.’* Came the reply.

Once T'Pol entered in her room, Hoshi wasted no time in trying to extract some gossip from the Vulcan.

“Come on, T’Pol, there must be something! You guys were burning up that dance floor last night! I mean, when I saw you two dance the tango, it was amazing!” T’Pol let a small smile slip through her lips. Hoshi smiled. “I knew it! Well? What happened?”

T’Pol told her about her revelation, and her conversation with Trip.

“I’m so pleased for you, T’Pol, really, I am. Malcolm and I have wanted you two to get together for months now. How does it feel, after making such a decision?”

“It feels . . . liberating. I had expected guilt, but I feel nothing but happiness,”

“Well, I think you’re really brave, T’Pol, and I really respect you for it. It can’t be easy for you, being on Enterprise with all of us, never mind actually falling for one of us. It would be so easy for you to have simply left, but you haven’t, and now you’re embracing your feelings for Trip. It's all so romantic!”

“Like your film, Sleepless in Seattle? I think I am beginning to understand the concept behind it a little more now.” T’Pol said. “What of you and Malcolm? I believe you also make a good match.”

Hoshi blushed. “I like him so much, T’Pol, but, I just don’t know what we’ll do back on Enterprise. Either of us.”

T’Pol nodded in agreement. “Trip and I have engaged in a similar conversation.”



The shuttle back to Enterprise was uneventful. Most of the crew were nursing hangovers; Trip’s was kicking in just as they left the spaceport. T’Pol could tell something was amiss when he simply sat in his seat and didn’t try to talk to her about the engines on the shuttle and how he could improve them.

“Are you all right?” She asked. He looked green. “I’m not feeling so good.” He admitted.

“You were rather inebriated last night.” She admonished him.

“Hey! As I seem to remember, you were putting away a fair bit yourself!” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Commander, Vulcan’s have a much faster metabolism than humans, it would require several times the amount of alcohol I consumed to feel inebriated.”

“Jeez! Remind me never to go out drinking with you!” Trip said, feeling his stomach lurch as they docked at Enterprise. Once they were clear of the shuttle and walking back to her quarters, Trip gently touched her hand. “Do I get to see you later?” he asked suggestively. She shook her head.

“I’m afraid not, Commander. I have arranged to swap shifts with Ensign Sato so she and Lieutenant Reed can spend some time together this evening.”

“Oh, we’re back to Commander now?” Trip said. Back to the brush-off now we’re back on Enterprise, huh?

T’Pol seemed to sense what he was thinking and looked at him. “I was serious about what I said last night, Trip. I am off duty all day tomorrow. Perhaps you would care to accompany me to the gym tomorrow morning, and we could spend the rest of the day together-- if that would be a suitable alternative?”

Trip grinned at her. “Yeah, that’d be great!”

“And anyway, “she said, pulling him into her quarters, “I am not on duty until ten this evening. It is only two in the afternoon now. I thought maybe we could . . . relax for a few hours.”

“Mmmm, that sounds good.” Trip murmured as her mouth enveloped his. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well, I did find our dancing sessions extremely relaxing.”

“Well then, that’s settled, Sub-Commander, shall we dance?”


FINIS


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A whole mess of folks have made comments

I really this story nice friendship plot with Hoshi/T'Pol and Trip and malcolm and exploring their relationships nicely done. i ennjoyed this one.

*giggle* I'm not sure a public tango is exactly in character for T'Pol... but who cares? This story is just SO delicious. And Malcolm/Hoshi in the snow! I'm in heaven. Sigh. Good one, StarWatcher.

Liked it alot, only had problems with T'Pol thinking about her previous Vulcan lovers, because imo she did not have any.

Agree with Kenshin. Great story. Another thing I thought was weird was this:

T'Pol--> "“I am sure that Lieutenant Reed and Commander Tucker are aware we are human. They have, after all, seen under our uniforms.”"

Human? But I get what you mean.

Must have been a typo, right? It should have been that the men "are aware that we are women". Makes more sense that way, too.

Well done!

I really want to go out dancing now. Where's Trip when you need him? Nicely done. :)

“I believe you may be inebriated, Trip.”

“Probably. Probably definitely. But you still look beautiful.”

Best lines in the whole thing! Loved it. Delicious as Distracted has said. Thank you for this fun little story. :)

This was simply an amazing story. There hasn't been one like this in a long time just concentrating on friendship and love, but this one was very well done. Thanks!

This was simply an amazing story. There hasn't been one like this in a long time just concentrating on friendship and love, but this one was very well done. Thanks!

omg that was such an amazin story so beautiful.. i tryed 2 image trip and t'pol dance so sweet nd when every1 wat watchin the lik omg i bet all the men were jelouse that trip had t'pol, i could jst see there faces (thnkx 4 a gr8 story) .. nd a very well done !!! xxxxx

That was so much fun! I loved the idea of Hoshi and T'Pol IM'ing each other in ancient Vulcan - hilarious! I was just a little bit confused because for at least the last half of season 4, T'Pol had been calling Trip "Trip" It just seemed like that issue was settled, especially in the Elizabeth two-part episode. (The true finale) But anyway, I still loved this story, it was very true to character and unique - well done!