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Along the Way
A | Author - Sue | Genre - Humor | Genre - Romance | Main Story | Rating - PG-13
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Along The Way
T'Pol seemed to be closing the hefty book. Trip, jumping the gun, closed his eyes. Tiny weights felt as though they weighted down his lids. The last thing she had read, then translated, hung in his overloaded mind...'There is no other wisdom and no other hope for us but we grow wise...'
Wise...he thought...thinking about what had goaded him into promising he'd get a handle on Surak. Philosophy, forget whose, was one of his least favorite things. Crazy in love? Sure. Hands down he was, not a doubt in his mind...but his agreeing to give the old esoteric master a crack. Man, he had it bad, which he knew he did.
He would have promised T'Pol he'd scrub down her already immaculate quarters with a toothbrush for all the attention she was giving him. She was practically doting on him, which happily led him to conclude that his doing well meant she wanted them to have a future together. These were big ifs, but it didn't stop him from leaping ahead where if they did get hitched, and it was somehow possible for T'Pol to have his kids, she certainly wouldn't want to be the mother of half-Vulcan children whose father was Surak illiterate.
Trip just wished her obvious reverence of the long-gone philosopher wasn't so, well, transparent. Being jealous of a dead guy was for head-cases.
'There is no other wisdom and no other hope for us but we grow wise...'
Well...at least the tenet had one thing going for it. It was one of the simpler ones for him to grasp. Trip had to admit it was also profound. Growing wise...the aspiration of a lifetime, the fulfillment, the wishing his head stopped hurting; there was so much to absorb. That was the problem, well at least one of them. There was too much, he assessed, hearing T'Pol speak more Vulcan. He chanced a peek, seeing she hadn't shut the handbook masquerading as an encyclopedia after all. She had simply turned to some other reference nearer the beginning.
Sure, it had been his idea, tackling Surakan philosophy. That was when he'd had no idea what it would entail. It wasn't a snap...struggling to realize wickedly complex concepts which he had no familiarity with whatsoever.
He shut his eyes again, a wisp of a fantasy played in his bombarded mind, begging for him to bring it to its logical conclusion. '...Being away from it all...just the two of us...more or less snowbound together in one of those old wooden cabins for a ski weekend...hidden in a secluded forest right by Lake Tahoe...my babe's lookin' mighty sweet on that polar bear synthetic fur rug...in front of that roaring fire...butt-naked...with me the exact same way...true, she doesn't go in all that much for drinkin', but this is *my* fantasy...so here's to us, darlin'...pour you more champagne?...'
When he opened his eyes, T'Pol was looking at him dead on. "You are overwhelmed."
Trip started and his eyes snapped open wider. '...I was about to be, darlin'...' He looked like the dog that had cornered the cat that had swallowed the canary. He began by sounding apologetic, but T'Pol headed him off.
"Perhaps I try to accomplish too much with you too soon." Cognizant, she looked sympathetic for someone whose benchmark was overachievement and a love of discipline.
"Nah, nah. I'm fine." '...Look sharp...' he admonished himself. '...If you can't cut this, she'll tell ya we've had it before we really have, and that's so not want I want...' "How about going over the concept of IDIC again. I kind of got a little lost in the 'Va'Vuhnaya and s'Va'Terishlar' in traditional Golic Vulcan."
T'Pol regarded him as a dedicated teacher would a promising student. "Most followers of the teachings of Surak believe in this concept. As recognition of their belief, these adherents wear or display the symbol which was designed by Surak himself." Adding a lilt to her voice, T'Pol expounded, "Many non-Vulcans have adopted this belief as well. Some even wear the symbol, the IDIC, which my mother gave me." T'Pol wondered if Trip ever would if he embraced The Way. They had been meeting like this every night for the past three weeks. Her quarters, incandescent, bathed in candlelight, had become a haven.
Dreamily, Trip's eyes fell on their untouched slices of pecan pie. Chef had freshly prepared one after the chief engineer had pleaded with him to whip one up. Studying was always more fun when pecan pie was a reward.
T'Pol was no pushover. Even a non-Vulcan, a dimwitted one, could have sensed by now that the man talented with his hands, mechanically speaking, was having difficulty with the subject matter, here and there. Still, his lost looks notwithstanding, something within told her he was giving it his all. "Are you sure you wish to continue,
Trip's baby blues flashed. '...Oh, no ya don't, darlin'...' and he was about to open his mouth.
Nimbly, T'Pol mended the error of what she had been about to say. "Trip..."
The chief engineer's face relaxed into a smile. "That's better...much." Before he could say anything further, he failed to stifle a yawn.
"You are tired." T'Pol began closing the book, looking at him with wide, understanding eyes. Underneath his she thought there was faint discoloration.
Following another unsuccessfully stifled yawn, he replied, "Well...uh...maybe just a little, is all." Trip sat up straighter on the bank of cushiony pillows. "I'm good for a few more sayings though. Lay 'em on me if you've got 'em."
The beautiful Vulcan sat in meditative repose, regarding her human guest with critical concern. "May I suggest instead, a comprehensive review of sorts of what you've already learned."
"A review," Trip muttered, as though daunted by the idea. Sweat beads lightly dotted his forehead. "Comprehensive?"
"To indicate how well you have acquired understanding thus far."
"Well...all..." 'Aw, damn, man.' "Ri...uh. Okay..." '...And if I flunk, you dump me, darlin'?...' nagged him to distraction, as he sat across from her attentively taking her in with one hundred proof rueful eyes. He hadn't been a pop quiz kind of guy way back when in his school days, and he still wasn't one now several good years removed.
Surak's collection was open again, and T'Pol pored over a page. She looked serene, as though she were Surak incarnate, only a female version. Trip felt his throat constrict. He began rubbing his temples, feeling them start to throb a twinge. When T'Pol looked up, his fingers fell away from his head as he held it up high. He hoped she'd missed the fleeting look of discomfort on his face.
"'Ven-dol-tar heh Saven-don-tak t' Surak...'"
Uncertain as to what she wanted exactly, Trip braved a guess. "Translation: Philosophy and Teachings of Surak?"
T'Pol fairly beamed at him in gratification. "You are becoming quite adept with the language."
"I have a teacher unparalleled, who knows her stuff cold..." Trip winked at T'Pol and it was no flicker of light playing tricks when he saw the hint of a smile grace her lovely face.
"Your mind is keen," T'Pol awarded with a delicate flick of her tongue. "Your spirit eager."
'...My lips are eager for yours to devour mine the way you like to. Maybe once I pass muster you'll do me the favor...' Trip cloistered in his mind, giving T'Pol another meaningful wink. This time, and he might have been hoping too hard, it seemed as though she almost winked back.
"What is patience?" T'Pol asked, having spoken the word patience in Vulcan.
'...Sitting here, restraining myself from grabbing you. Smothering your entire luscious body with kisses...' Trip gamely acknowledged. If she let him do that...feeling tired? Who'd feel tired? He wouldn't, that's for sure. '...You're even sexier when you're all studious and articulate like this...'
Three weeks ago, his having come to see her at night hadn't been about their being physical. That was three weeks ago, and now was now. A little of her Vulcan lovin' would go a long way to keep him motivated and if not ace Surak, at least keep him pointed in the right direction.
She hadn't exactly reverted to her former cool, calm and collected unemotional self, not entirely. But she wasn't that hot, green-blooded female who had pinned him to the deck that first time she had thrown her inhibitions to the space wind and sexed him up senseless, either.
'...Yeah...more spoonin', less noodlin' around, Trip voted.
"'Tranush...'", he said, nearly holding his breath; T'Pol looked as though she was capable of eating him up. The feeling was very mutual. He cleared his throat, striving to keep his voice level, as though wanting to show her this endeavor was bearing fruit and not a monumental waste of her time. "If we're being technical...patience is a Vulcan trait, not part and parcel of Surak's philosophy. As with the desire for knowledge, great value is set on moral character, patience and observance of ethical order..."
T'Pol wanted to hug Trip, but she exercised extreme willpower, or more aptly, 'won't power,' refusing to give into the careless whim. What would her developmental student think if her self-control decided to go south? She furthered his thought, expressing it in her native tongue and waited for him to answer in kind.
Which, Trip did, smiling at her as though entranced; as a matter of fact he was, that and then some. He said in softly-inflected Vulcan, "Master your passions so that they are used to slow entropy." '...Nice words, but if she gave me half of a half-hearted come hither look, I'd be in her lap faster than Good Humor ice cream melted off its stick...Hey, darlin', what's the Vulcan equivalent for the male of the species being as horny as hell?...oh, my bad...there probably isn't one...Your guys do sex every seven years...Shut up!...I know what I told her just at the moment I could've let her have her way with me...I shouldn't complain...
...You were willing to give it up to me three weeks ago, and I turned ya down...who was that G-rated guy?...'
Trip seized his bull by the horns...'And I *still* will. She's not some sex object. She's the object of my
"You have a gift for mastery," T'Pol uttered in an almost devoted tone. She decided they would call it a night. There was no need to overdo it despite his enthusiasm. The way he looked at her was a trifle unsettling.
"You're the gift," the southern gentleman regaled in his most infatuated style. Sounding dedicated, and as though he'd read her mind, he invited, "One more. I'm good for it."
"Trip," T'Pol admonished.
"No, really. Just one more assessment, and we'll call it quits for now..." Taking cues from himself since T'Pol was staring at him expressionlessly, Trip inched nearer to her. He liked the snug outfit she wore; it lent no mystery as to how curvaceous she truly was. And then he recalled, these were the same clothes she'd worn when she'd taken him home to meet her mom. Pointing at the book, he challenged, "Give me a hard one." T'Pol cocked her head with an eyebrow raised, and Trip quickly covered, "I know, I know. This isn't a competition. Farthest thing from, but, you know what I mean. You should..."
"Very well," T'Pol acquiesced.
'...Just keep impressin' her, Tucker, and she might make your dream come true after ditchin' that book...' His more enlightened side, getting stroked by Surak's principles, made another bid for his not taking it where it shouldn't go yet. There'd be plenty of time once solid groundwork was laid, in a purely philosophical manner of speaking.
Trip yawned, unable to suppress the indication that his brain needed more oxygen. T'Pol stopped perusing the pages to give him another going over with judgmental eyes.
"I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm waitin'." He started tapping his index finger, which he forgot he had bruised earlier in the day, against the meditation table's negligible lip. Juddering something, whether it be part of his person, on it, or nearby it, was one of Tucker's clear evidences that impatience was getting the better of him. She raised her eyebrow higher and he stopped fidgeting. Trip looked at his finger which had begun to throb. He remembered its having gotten caught in a plex-tightener right before the noon meal.
Sounding precursory, which was most of the time, Trip recognized, T'Pol initiated, "Surak's Construct..." She raised her right hand and made the salute her enigmatic species was known for. She waited for her would-be suitor to imitate her. When Trip did, T'Pol stipulated, "As his five-part philosophy has been called...what is the ideology encompassed in this gesture?"
The hand holding the salute drooped a bit as Trip's mind scrambled for the answer he knew she wanted, would accept as nothing less than clinically on point. "Gimme a minute," the chief engineer said, stalling for time. He stared at his hand as though his fingers and its back held the answer. '...Show-off...' he thought, glaring at his calloused extremity and the no-help it was being, as though it were the reason for the situation he found himself in.
'...Where do I get off thinkin' I could win her by crammin' knowledge she's been spoon-fed since birth into me what?... Man am I dense!' '...No you're not...' a wiser voice interposed. '...You're in love, really in love, for the first time in your life...and as you're quick to point out to her...you have nothing to be ashamed of...speak what's in your heart...'
The latent affection that T'Pol felt for Trip, roiling within her heart, moved her to provide him with a big hint. How difficult this must be for her handsome consort; Trip was Surak's antithesis... and here she was...growing more attached to the quirky human with each passing day. If he had somehow gotten it into his fanciful head that their having anything together depended upon his ability to spew out Surakisms on demand, let alone allow them to hybridize his being, she'd have to set him straight...sooner or later. And she had a big suspicion that it would be sooner rather than later.
The obvious tip poured from her lips. "This is more than the Idic and it encompasses the entire concept of Idic. The Idic stands for the idea that the greatest joy in all creation is in the infinite ways that infinitely diverse things can join together to create meaning and beauty. In this symbol, the ring finger represents the philosophy of Nome, meaning, 'All.' The small finger represents the philosophy of the Idic. The middle finger..."
Somewhat on the randy side, and for no other reason than he knew instinctively that she was giving him most of the answer, Trip grinned. Almost instantly, sensing his lack of proper respect was out of place, he stopped so she could continue.
"The middle finger represents the Doctrine of the Domination of Logic and is paired closely with the index finger which represents the Vulcan Reverence- for-Life. The thumb stands alone, representing the high regard placed on individual privacy..."
She evaluated his quiet, pensive look and decided he must be worried. She knew his worried look, practically had it memorized. Instead of giving him a minute, she pressed on. "However, Surak's Construct asserts that for the sake of survival, *logic* must be of greater influence in society, and of course the individual, than emotion. Hence, logic, represented by the longest finger, is separated from the philosophy of 'All,' and paired with Reverence-for-Life. Thus indicating that continued existence demands that logic rule over emotion. And yet, equal with this tenet is the assertion that infinite variety must be present to make continued existence worthwhile."
Trip rubbed his throbbing forehead again with his other hand.
"The very physiology of Vulcans compels a periodic confrontation with unleashed emotion." T'Pol forged on. "One of the prime goals of Surak's Construct is to turn this ever-present reminder of the power of unbridled emotion into a reinforcement of the dedication to logic. For example: The Vulcan male is aware of the surging emotions of the 'pon farr' not only within himself but also in those around him. His inability to control emotion leads to a necessity to remove himself from the mainstream of society for the duration of the condition. Hence, this is one reason Surak places such value on *privacy*."
Trip stuck a hand up; a rabid look of begging for mercy stark in his eyes.
"Wait...please...time out. Uh...the rest is comin'." Oh, yeah, sure it was! How many times had they gone over this very thing? Enough times, he thought, to know that T'Pol expected him to get it right, and be quick about it. All the double talk was as clear as congealed mud...and still nothing sprang into his mind chock-full of confusion. Finally, he admitted and sounded pained doing so, "I...I guess..."
He brought the gesturing hand down. "Guess this is where my pathetic song-an'-dance ends, 'cause the steps get more and more complicated and I can't keep up. I don't have a clue what more to tell ya. I've been bluffin' my way through, but looks like the jig's up."
"The jig?" T'Pol had a feeling it might not be such a bad idea if she took lessons from him on 'Tucker-speak.' She regarded him patiently; his regrettable words not coming as a total surprise. In Trip's current state of mind, her accepting, tranquil demeanor went wholly unnoticed.
Downcast, Trip pressed his lips tightly together and fitfully looked away from T'Pol. In the next minute he heaved himself up from the pillowed deck and started pacing. He halted in mid-pace, abruptly turning himself around, and thrust out his arms. "I was afraid to tell ya this before, but now's as good a time as any, seein' as how I've been blowin' smoke up your as-- uh... Well, let's just say...I've kinda been snowin' ya."
"Snowing me?" T'Pol asked sedately. Snow...she had always wanted to see it fall, but so far hadn't had an opportunity. Throwing snowballs, as she had learned they were called, and had witnessed a snowball fight on data file, appeared fascinating.
"I haven't been completely honest with ya, is what I mean," Trip confessed with a look of boyish contriteness making him even more appealing. His features grew tauter as he went on speaking, thoroughly convinced that when he was through, she'd give him the old heave-ho, never wanting him to mention herself with him in the same context. "Okay...so I've learned a few of your words, one or two of your, I call 'em proverbs. The one about infinite diversity bringin' us together to create meaning and beauty is a personal favorite. Fine. Thing is, the big picture's one big fog in my brain. In a nutshell, I'm lost, T'Pol," he owned up, gesticulating wildly with his arms, as though he tried hard to free himself from a paper bag."
'...Uh, huh...just like I figured...I'm history...'
He couldn't seem to stop himself, though, so he blurted onward:
"I'm so into you, I would've agreed to anythin', anythin' at all, just to keep ya from findin' a reason to keep us apart. I don't think my mind's exactly cut out for this complicated way of viewin' life. Your way of life. The Vulcan way," he stammered. Looking as defeated as he felt, he said, sounding beaten, "I admit it. It's too hard. My head hasn't stopped hurtin' since we began doin' this." He turned his face to her door, grimacing, and began walking in its direction, but he stopped just before reaching it and turned back around. An expression of his being on pins and needles captured him. "Truth is, I'm just a simple--and that's simple as in plain, uncomplicated, not simple as in stupid--man. A southern boy whose biggest problem is tryin' to win your heart without losin' my mind." As though hovering like one of the shuttlepods, Trip stayed put.
"I can't keep pretending I know anything of what you're tryin' to get me to understand. I respect you too much for that. So, I guess what I'm sayin' is this is it then. I gave it my best shot, but I'm not cutting it." He allowed himself one last sorrowful look at T'Pol before saying goodbye, and getting out of her life for good. "I know how much you're afraid of you and me becomin' us, and all. I can't bear your feelin' like that. I'd rather have ya forget about me than havin' ya feel scared and guilty all the time." He heard his drawl mire his words in sentiment. "I just care about ya too damn much for that, darlin'...so...this is where I turn and walk away. It's been great; never forget you as long as I live. Our just bein' friends?" He shook his head, then let it hang. "I won't promise, 'cause it'll probably be too hard too. Harder even." He waved as he struggled with, "See ya around..."
His affected flippancy fell flat.
"Trip, stop! Don't leave. Please!" T'Pol closed the book, just staring at the man she had lost her heart, and everything else that once mattered so much, too. What she held in her hands, she pressed to her chest as though it were a flotation ring for saving life. "Why do you speak in this manner?"
"Why?" Trip echoed, having the awful feeling that he had given her the final slap in the face. "Because above all else, I value honesty. A relationship stands no kind of chance unless it's based on it."
"So, you only pretended to care about Surak's teachings."
Trip felt the confines of her quarters tilt every which way about him; talk about a room spinning. After taking a deep breath to steady himself, he replied, "No. I never pretended. I tried understandin' the reasons behind the way you think. Trying will always be important, but, and I'm not ashamed admittin'. His teachings are beyond me. Chalk it up to my being too human, too... Too, uh..."
"Charles 'Trip' Tucker, the Third?"
'...Now that's very cocky of ya, darlin'...' Nodding, Trip shot T'Pol a, 'now you've gone and done it' look. "And I'm not apologizing for *that* either."
In a voice that was the soul of meekness, T'Pol said, "Why should you? Vulcans aren't the be all and end all of existence. I am at fault if I've ever given you that impression." Trip's eyes popped; surely this beauty was a clone. "It must be said that I find myself..." She hugged the book harder, knowing that when she said this, things would never be the same between them, and it didn't frighten her, not anymore. "Attracted to you because of who and what you are." She noted how dazed Trip looked then. Clarifying further, she stated, "Instructing you was never a test to see how Vulcan you would become."
By now, Trip had inched his way back into the interior of her quarters, a warmth seemed to encirle him, and he imagined he glowed as he basked in it. '...T'Polshine...' he whimsically thought, drawing nearer, his reservations dismantled by her poise.
"Come," she invited, "sit by me." She didn't need to tell him twice, T'Pol gauged, by his hair-trigger obedience. "I want to show you something. Something I've never fully allowed myself to accept...until now."
Lowering himself down beside her, he finagled, "Say it again. Please..."
Eyeing him cautiously, T'Pol rejoined, "Say what again?"
"You're attracted to me."
Emulating his obedience, she said without hesitation, "I am attracted to you."
"Wow, you just let that roll off your tongue. Like it isn't any harder than shearing off some of that pie and ploppin' it in your mouth." Trip waltzed his sight over to the flavorful example.
"Wasn't I obvious enough?" T'Pol lifted her eyebrow again.
"Obvious? Oh, sure. About as obvious as an invisible flare." Trip shook his head. "You're somethin', ya know that. You're really somethin'."
"You often say that about me. What I've never asked is what does that mean?" She looked at him pointedly, but instead of making him feel as if he were on trial, she was the one who felt that way.
"Since being brutally honest seems to be the way to go tonight...most times I've said it, I meant it as something good. A compliment." He kept his hemming and hawing to a minimum. "But there have been times when...well, let's just say, you burned my nerves."
"And that is bad," T'Pol said, all too accepting of the truth.
"Uh, well, yeah. But, c'mon, the shoe's been on the other foot too, ya know. So many times. For all your logic, and cool-headedness, I've burnt yours too, haven't I? You know I have."
Thinking that over, judiciously, T'Pol said, "Indeed... you have."
"You just control yourself better than I do."
"Since I have known you, you're improving."
"For that," Trip said laughingly, leaning over and looking gaga, "you deserve one of these..." Gently, and to his delight she let him, he kissed her cheek. "You're somethin' all right. Somethin' wonderful." Taking his time about drawing away from her entranced looking face, he whispered, "So, what did ya want to show me?" She began opening the book, seeing Trip frown a little. "I kinda figured you had somethin' else in mind you were gonna show me," he intimated, trying not to sound too suggestive, despite his racing pulse.
"It is another of Surak's adages." She looked at the truism once more before reciting it. "It's one you have not yet heard."
"Okay, so how does it go?"
Sagely, T'Pol spoke, "'...Cast out fear. There is no room for anything else until you cast out fear...'"
Trip felt a ripple flutter his heart a number of times as he mentally repeated, what T'Pol had said. He said it more than once to himself. Looking into her eyes contentedly, he was confident he could say it to her the way it was meant to be said...in Vulcan. "'Dakh pthak. Nam-tor ri ret na'fan-kitok fa tu dakh pthak.'"
When he'd finished, tears were in T'Pol's eyes. "I am not afraid, Trip. I cast out fear to make room for..." She placed the book in his lap, which he took up, to make room for her kissable backside. T'Pol made herself comfortable in his lap, behaving as though she'd found a home. "For you, 'k'diwa.'"
Trip wasn't all too sure whether or not T'Pol had heard him groan audibly, but he rushed to say, "Beloved. Me?"
"You," T'Pol confirmed, easing her hands around to the back of his neck so her arms could draw him to her closely. "No fear," she insisted.
"None," Trip joyously assented, aware that the book choked with Surakisms had wedged itself between their bodies. Instead of taking it away, he wrapped his arms around T'Pol, bringing her forehead near to rest against his, and he sighed. "None, ever. As long as you let me be in the picture."
"We will try, as you suggested."
"We'll make it work," Trip pledged, as the faint ring of marriage vows wormed its way in and out of his delirious thoughts.
"Do you wish to stop your learning of Surak altogether?"
Virtue was loud and clear when he told her, "T'Pol, you're the only totality I want to know inside and out. But..." He chuckled as his mouth found its way to hers. "Maybe once a week. Not every night like we have been...and..."
"And?" T'Pol murmured as Trip's tongue stroked hers and his hands cinched her waist possessively.
"After Surak, some neuro-pressure..."
She allowed herself to relax into him even more. Sounding confirmatory, T'Pol said, "You've missed it."
"I have. I really have. You make me feel so good..."
T'Pol couldn't help but blush, a nice high-toned, which complemented her outfit perfectly, greenish color.
"Especially after you get through outlining Surak's Constructs in all their no detail spared best. Are you sure you aren't his great, great, great granddaughter? At least somethin' remotely related?"
"Quite sure," T'Pol ably fielded. "Unquestionably, there is no ancestry even in the remotest sense." She'd done her research long ago.
"If you say so, darlin'." Trip's eyes twinkled like stars when she let him funnel into her closest ear, "If you say so." Then he said as he sighed, "I've missed you most of all."
Lazily, T'Pol glanced over at the slices of confection that had ultimately brought them together. She focused on Trip's favorite way he usually liked to end off his dinner. "Pie?" she asked, noting how light and airy her voice sounded. Her fingers fiddled with the short hairs above the nape of his neck.
"Pie?" His mind was, in conjunction with body parts usually affected when she and he got amorous, so not fixated on Chef's succulent dessert.
"Don't you want some?" T'Pol asked breathily, stepping up her mindless plundering of his hot mouth.
"I want some all right...oh...yeah," Trip said, wheezing through his growl. "...Pie." He palmed the back of T'Pol's head, broke his mouth away from hers so he could nibble her face wherever he pleased. Breathlessly, he strung words. "...Later...much...later..." He ground his lips into her cheek. "You're one sweet mouthful." He vowed, "Want you...all the time...in every way..."
She felt the same about him. Back at his mouth, T'Pol nodded against it, and let the ebb and flow of completeness infuse her with a peace she had never known, and never wanted erased from her life.
'...Fearless...' T'Pol almost whispered aloud, feeling Trip work his magic all through her.
"All I wanna do is take care of you," Trip kept muttering, over and over; the intensity of his feelings made him shake. The only one capable of stilling him was T'Pol of Vulcan...the love of his life.
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A whole mess of folks have made comments
That was awsum
Honesty aint it great. Loved this sequel. I cant help it I love happy beginings.
AAAWWW, so sweet.
This was fantastic,great,wonderful,adorably,nice,sweet....
Tpolshine. What a great word and a great story.thanks
That story WAS a piece of pie! thanks! (not so healthy first thing in the morning but very much appreciated!)
I loved it!!
*Sigh* How romantic...
That was... awesome and fearless! Loved it, so happy Surak hasn't come between them. Ali D :~)
Since I now have some time, I am trying to read all these stories I missed. It is so like a male to struggle with trying to understanding what the love of his life is into! While I don't see Trip as quite that dense to the teachings of Surak, it is so sweet of him to make the effort to please T'Pol. And his mind constantly slipping into thoughts of the physical - great description and very humorous! Trip's honesty is rewarded in the end, very nicely done.