You Can Go Home Again

MU CHALLENGE FIC

You Can Go Home Again

By Sue

E-Mail: susieqla@yahoo.com
Website: None.
Category: Humor/ST/Romance
Rating: PG-13

Summary: The events of the episode 'Home' never happened. This is pure MU at its daffiest. Trip and T'Pol arrive on Vulcan and that's where any similarity between the episode of canon and this fic ends.

AN: Watchwords...Fun With Trip and T'Pol. This probably isn't the exact mirror the episode will portray, but TPTB who rule here said a story...any old story at all, so this is what I chose because several past episodes have been very unsatisfying.

Archive: All Enterprise archives are fine. Disclaimer: Star Trek Enterprise is the property of Paramount and its subsidiaries. I am not making any profit from this. Spoiler(s): Not really.

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"Tell me you've at least got a swimmin' hole within walkin' distance of your home. Better still...in your own backyard."

"No, there isn't."

"A sprinkler?" was his next leading question.

"No," she said, sounding cut and dry.

Dry, he thought, the way his throat and mouth felt. He cocked his head as dogs did when hearing something from afar.

"Okay, I'll settle for a plain, old garden hose. Doesn't even haveta have a regulator for flow. Anythin' as long as it cools me off." Wanting to peel his damp cotton shirt off his body, Trip shot hopeful eyes at his desirable traveling companion. She reminded him of a cool refreshing drink, like a mint julep, dressed in the attractive outfit she wore. What he wouldn't give to be washing his scratchy throat down with one right now. He set his compact piece of luggage down as she had done. "It's real hot here."

"Not for a Vulcan."

Her wry response smoothed him out. "I'm not Vulcan, last time you checked." Trip scanned the unusually tranquil spaceport with inquisitive eyes, hoping he'd see where liquid refreshment was being offered. "I guess climate control isn't a top priority."

T'Pol nodded; one of his habits she'd tried on for size and had since adopted. The gesture economized words. But she judged he wanted an explanation and he was her invited guest, after all. "Presently, no, but with the influx of many visitors from distant worlds, it is being given increased consideration." She began a visual scan of her people and the 'cosmo-cultural' visitors to her homeworld.

Things had certainly changed in many respects in her absence. It was good to see, Vulcans mingling freely with other species, no hint of disdain nor disparagement in their bearing, just as she had made needed adjustments herself while offworld. Words failed how thankful she would always be to Charles 'Trip' Tucker. Though it bordered on just being logical...someone being one's whole world, Trip was hers.

What Vulcans were now, was how it should have been all along, instead of how it had been for too long. Vulcans were no different from anyone else, and it was high time they, as a collective, had gotten over themselves.

Another 'Tuckerism,' T'Pol thought and it made her smile. Smiling...she was doing so much of it, and it felt good. Of course, as in any society, there were those few Vulcans who were, as Trip would call them, the proverbial hold-outs. In time, if they knew what was good for them, they'd fall in line, or risk ostracism.

Change was good, T'Pol had learned and come to appreciate, in diverse ways. Sounding apologetic, genuinely so, she said, "I'm sorry if bringing you here was my mistake."

"Not on your life, baby." That brought a lift to T'Pol's eyebrow and an instant smile to Trip's face. "Baby," he repeated, and laughed. "Baby, baby, baby."

She moved in closer to her human catalyst, her eyes, like a predator's focusing on him. "Stud muffin..."

His smile went nova. "You're turnin' me on...you know that, don'tcha?" Trip inveigled, knowing full well she knew the potent effect her animal magnetism had on him. But that was how the fun always began. The more suggestive he was, the more that turned T'Pol on. As opposed to a few moments ago, feeling hot felt great. There were very few things she drew the line with nowadays, to her darling's concrete delight.

"You are living dangerously. Right, here, in the public eye and ear."

"Are ya sure?" Trip's wicked wink fanned her flames.

"Positive." She wore her all-purpose 'Vulcans are stronger and you bear the marks to prove it' expression on her face before she made it go blank on purpose.

Looking sheepish, Trip tried to play it off with a shrug. “Promises, promises. I live for the hurtin' you put on me, wonder thighs." Doting on T'Pol was a way of life, having it any other way was sorely unacceptable. She made his shiner than it had ever been, and the luster hadn't worn off in all the years he'd known her. "It just keeps gettin' better...baby..."

"That word..." T'Pol hushed her voice. "It's--"

"What word?" Trip bantered.

"You know..."

"Gimme a hint."

"You just said it, and it starts with 'B.'" T'Pol began looking around again as though they were about to be apprehended.

"Oh, you mean, 'baby,' baby," Trip said, chuckling within the seductive drawl of his words.

"You promised you wouldn't use it because of its aphrodisiacal effect on me." There was a hint of agitation in her engaging, mellifluous voice. She was careful not to look him directly in his lovey-dovey eyes; they hopped her up more than Trellium-D ever had. "You know when you say it like that what it does to me."

If not rigid with herself, she could easily drag him off somewhere secluded and not be held responsible for her erotic actions, although Trip would never complain. This she knew, and knew well. He would laughingly refer to them as 'rabbits' which she still wasn't too clear about, regarding the reference.

"Yeah," Trip said slyly. "You never haveta remind me, suga. I also live for *those* moments, as if I needed to remind you of that too."

"If it slips out while in the presence of my mother..."

"Don't give it another thought. I'll cork it. I won't embarrass either one of us. Swear!" Trip blew her a string of bubbly kisses. "Although, darlin', with all the good lovin' ya give me...it's never easy keepin' it off my mind." T'Pol heard him use a tone he hadn't used in some time. "Are ya sorry?" Trip wiped his cocky smile off his face. He would never cease being impressed that she had asked him to join her. Though they had reached the decision mutually that, officially, they were a couple, they were still a secret. Trip was perfectly content to have T'Pol make the announcement to the captain and crew, whenever she decided the time was right.

"Sorry? Sorry about what?" T'Pol frowned. He often told her that her face would stay that way if she weren't careful, but she risked it. What did she have to feel sorry about?

"Draggin' me along with ya has a nice feel to it, Polly, but if you're havin' second thoughts...I'll understand."

"Dragged you..."

"Okay..." Trip invaded her personal space and, reflexively, T'Pol fell back, not trusting herself when he got this close. It amused him to no end, seeing the muscles in her face spasm. "Just playin'. I know your askin' meant you want me to meet friends and family. Mom, especially. You're proud of me, bein' your guy."

T'Pol thought to have a little fun herself, and uttered one hyphenated word which quickly plumped up the grin on Trip's face. "Trellium-D."

"Love potion number nine," he replied evenly, sounding as crisp as dry autumnal leaves under foot.

"You and I," T'Pol rebutted, sounding typically high and mighty, seeing his eyes spark alive with desire again.

"Stop, sweet thing, you're killin' me. Mercy, I'm your love slave...what more do ya want?" Trip made a move on her face, preparing to sear her cheek with a kiss. Instead though, he whispered close to her left nostril, "Declaration of love, babe. The whole reason you became a junkie in the first place. A real pip of one." His voice languished in her ear. "You were willin' to experiment on yourself on account of me."

"I love you...I had no choice. I had to know what your love was like. Your love is sustenance."

"I'm nuts about you too. Certifiably. Your love's like no other has ever been." Trip's hands instinctively molded to the contours of her tender body. "You're pecans and pralines for me, now and forever!"

T'Pol thirsted for him while giving laid back onlookers a blithe eye. "Many are noticing," she gloated.

"We're not the everyday couple, but no one's makin' a big fuss about it. In fact, a number of 'em look downright tickled pink. Kinda like if the disbanded High Command had decided throwin' a dinner just for me in my honor. Which they almost did for the entire crew, their bein' so grateful for our squelchin’ the Xindi, an' all." Trip yanked his mouth away from her cheek, but not before electing to throw caution to the wind and kiss her anyway. "You smell so good, and taste even better." And then he said with a husky, bawdy sigh, "Baby..."

Giving into the poetry of the moment, T'Pol effortlessly began giggling, and much to her Human beau's approval he began nibbling the peak of her left ear all over again.

Within their earshot, they heard an outspoken adolescent Vulcan girl announce to her father, "When I grow up, I will travel to Earth, remain for a time and attract a Human male as virile and conspicuously red-blooded as hers."

The young lady's timeworn father, who'd been around, nodded in boldfaced approval, regarding Trip and T'Pol with a dignified air of equanimity. As father and daughter continued to go by, the young lady's eyes were glued to them with an envious glint in them.

"You've never expressed an interest in residing on Earth, T'Sau, but if your mother agrees, then there is no logical reason why you shouldn't. The future belongs to those who boldly go where no one has gone before..."

"But, Father, many Vulcans have traveled to Earth, and scores reside there."

"Ah, Daughter, your observation is valid. But, there is also validity in that you will be the first from our family to do so."

"Indeed, Father, I agree. I can't wait until I'm as old as she..." T'Sau peppered T'Pol with rose-colored glances.

"Pinch me," Trip invited, nudging T'Pol while watching their observers draw away. "Better yet, bite me, instead."

"Your logic for my doing either?" T'Pol resourcefully countered.

"I know you've told me how much things have changed here, but not *this* much! It's like day and night, attitudinally speakin'."

Patiently, T'Pol recounted, "Through our alliance with Earth, coupled with the tacit acknowledgement that while Surak's teachings are valuable and implicitly wise... They embody who we, as Vulcans, essentially are, still. There is much leeway for diversity in cultural and personal affinities. Logic does save, but compassion coupled with pathos and--"

"A sense of humor. Lord, don't forget a great sense of humor!"

"When I'm with you, Trip, how is it possible?"

"Sweet..."

"They do more than enlighten. The delicate fusions make profound all it embraces."

"Amen," Trip enthusiastically endorsed. As smooth as the brand of silk he insisted she looked great in, he inserted, "How 'bout next time we go someplace together, let's do the Rockies. Aspen's spectacular mid-January. Cold as this is hot. I'll teach ya how to snowboard..."

"Snow?"

"Board," Trip said, confirming. "Strong, athletic gal like yourself. You'll be a natural. My personal angel chargin' the moguls. I'm visualizin' all kinds of yummy things, mostly involvin' you in a bikini. We'll do March madness too when it isn't quite so cold."

"I have always wanted to experience physical activities in conjunction with frozen precipitation." T'Pol kept perusing the crowds with undaunted eyes in search of something, or someone, it appeared to Trip.

"Yeah, cold weather sports, in any language," Trip said, deadpanning. And we won't even talk about the 'apres ski' part." Trip's eyes sort of glazed over. Shaking his impulsive reverie off, he said, "Or...we could always see Paris first, then hit the Alps. Once, I went with some friends to Chamonix, which is practically at Mount Blanc's doorstep. The skiin' and 'boardin' are outta this world!" It was easy for him to see how T'Pol wasn't paying him the attention to which he had easily grown accustomed. Finally, Trip, concluding he deserved a clue, asked, "Okay, I give up. What, or who're ya lookin' for?"

"My mother," T'Pol tersely replied, her eyes still browsing the crowd.

"Mom? Oh...but I thought we were goin' to your home to meet her there."

T'Pol brought Trip's perplexed looking face into view. "She changed her mind. She does that a lot, lately. Her sub-space message indicated that she wanted to meet us here."

"Here?" Trip nodded, doing so more with more conviction. "Okay, she's meetin' us here."

"It isn't the custom. Guests are expected to make their own way to the place they'll be staying."

"You said it yourself before we set down, and I just did too. Things have changed. We've already had some pretty good glimpses how much for ourselves." Trip couldn't wait to meet T'Les, but by the same token, he felt somewhat agitated too. What if her mother didn't like him? It was possible, though rare; not everyone liked him. A mother's first impression of the man her daughter brought home could make or break the relationship. This he knew from former failed ones. "Cheer up," he said out loud, but more for himself. "Whether we meet her here, or at your home, I get to meet her, and that's what we want, don't we? I'll make my first impression count. Honest I will, T'Pol. I won't come off as a jerk."

"Now I know you're joking, but you'd better not, or I'll, I'll--"

"You'll what?"

"Never attend Movie Night with you again." She had a 'so there' look on her face. "You can...can...just find somebody else."

"No--No!" Trip looked acutely stricken following his look of desperation. "Anythin' but my havin' to do Movie Night solo again, or even worse, with anyone but you. That's right...be cruel to me. You might as well have someone tear off my right and left arms since doin' it yourself would turn you into emotional mush."

"And being turned into emotional mush is bad because?" He made her drunk with talk like that...such slavish devotion was hallucinatory in its own right. "Then, behave," T'Pol said sternly, but couldn't help but fall under the spell of her suitor's charm that lapped at the center of her heart. She brushed her hand underneath his chin. "And even when you are a jerk, I still love you."

"Behave how?" Trip whimpered, unconvincingly.

"I'll show you later. Hungry?" T'Pol asked innocently.

"Psycho," Trip badgered with puppy doggish zeal.

"Takes one," T'Pol tossed back at him, sounding as witty as he could, and that was considerably.

"Every chance you gimme...darlin'." He lunged at T'Pol. "Lap dance later?"

She never blinked. "Come to think of it, right out in the open might spice things up," T'Pol said, as though daring him.

"In my dreams, you little tease," Trip pitched, knowing better.

"In my dreams, you little tease. How?"

"You don't think I would? Right here and now? Even if we are waitin' on your mom.--"

"All talk...no action," T'Pol challenged.

"Okay, you asked for it, and you're gonna get it too." Trip tugged on her arm. "Let's go. You and me..."

"You and I...where?" T'Pol smiled beatifically at Trip. "Spell it out."

"Live the fantasy..." So saying, Trip hooked his arm around T'Pol's waist and reeled in his willing partner in the sublime. T'Pol would become even more kittenish; his public displays of affection always kept her guessing. Dropping his voice lower still, he stated forcefully, directly in the same ear whose lobe he'd been nibbling, "I've never loved another woman the way I love you, Polly."

"We're doing it again," T'Pol said, sounding knowledgeable in that definitive way she had.

Puffing weightless words over, around and into her hair, Trip acknowledged, "It fits us like an old pair of gloves. One size fits all, at that."

"Uncommon."

"You know it, razzle-dazzler," Trip flourished with sparkling eyes. "You're the only one I'll do it for."

"I for you, handsome." T'Pol, following his lead, began kissing him hard on the mouth, with an easy-going public on hand.

Trip said in earnest, "There's only so much mileage in quickies. Let's wait till we can take it longer."

T'Pol squeezed his hand which was cinching her waist like a belt notched too tightly. "Quickies are better than nothing."

"We're too good for 'em now." Trip's mouth fell upon T'Pol's neck, planting heated kisses about it, as though they were pearls. "I want you for the long haul. The longest."

T'Pol's eyes widened in surprise and she whispered, "I wondered if you'd ever get around to it. When?"

"Whenever *you* say, darlin'. I'm ready. Been ready since that day you sensuously slathered gookie blue gel all over my back and came close to kissin' it when Phlox looked away. So I beat ya too it, and massaged your sexy ear, all set to devour it, but our session ran out."

"No, it didn’t. I stopped you, remember? I knew, even back then, that if I hadn’t, you could have had me right then. I wanted you the moment I saw you.” T’Pol traced the shell of Trip’s right ear. “Your ears are sexier," T'Pol sedately suggested. He groaned, seeing her pout, knowing the power her lips, especially the lower one, had over him. "And--" Her vision seemed to sharpen in that moment of pillow talk, minus a pillow within head-laying distance. "Bookmark."

"Bookmark..." He turned his face, catching T'Pol's discretionary look out the corner of his eye. "Bookmark." Their code word. "Ya see her?"

"She approaches..." T'Pol, suddenly stiff, held herself away from her ardent blue-eyed master of passion whose enviable build was tailor-made for the Starfleet uniform, and anything else, he wore, or chose not to wear. Female members of the crew knew that was right, hands down.

Trip stood at attention, looking his dutiful best, and just in time...

"Daughter!" a voice saturated with joviality blared, as the striking woman who owned it bustled her way to them.

"Mother, it is good to see you again. I apologize for being such a stranger; my fault entirely."

"You're a busy girl, T'Pol, wanting your chance to explore fresher vistas. I'd be the last one to stop you." T'Les embraced her daughter wildly. "It's so good to have you home."

"But it is surprising you chose to meet us here." T'Pol's tone lacked the mystification she felt. Trip's observation about how much things had changed on Vulcan came flooding back to her mind. Her mother, by the bright, trendy sheer clothes she wore, the soft droopy ringlets of her hairdo and her easygoing manner, wasn't the woman she had bid a tear-jerking farewell to.

T'Les held her away from herself. "T'Pol, you are a sight, a gorgeous one! Even lovelier than when I last saw you!" At the same time she said this, T'Les' eyes mounted a separate assault on T'Pol's irresistibly boyish-looking companion who was getting a load of his girlfriend's mom, himself. "Commander Tucker!"

"At your service, ma'am," Trip greeted cheerily. With a flair for the gallant, he seized the spiffy matriarch's French-manicured hand, kissing the back of its smooth, clear skin; she had the flesh of a Human twenty-year old. "It's a pleasure," he potently drawled once he relinquished it. In a very low aside to T'Pol, he said, "Your mother's a caution, darlin', it's like my pa says, 'the apple doesn't fall very far from the tree.'" With his eyes locked infectiously with T'Les', he inquired of his soft-spoken girl, "Does she know about us?"

T'Pol's hearing was crack; her mother's was twin pistols, improving with age, as, on the whole, was the case with Vulcans as they matured. "Do I know about you two, Commander? I should say I do, you young, handsome hunk of Human manhood!" Trip winked first at T'Pol, then mom. "She communicates of nothing else. My daughter has never been vague about what she likes, wants, and ultimately gets, when all is said and done."

"Mother!"

"T'Pol!" T'Les said just as starkly.

"You are so right!" T'Pol confirmed, looking as pleased as a domesticated seh'lat.

"It's as I have tried to impart the essence of and instilled this sentiment in T'Pol, and by the looks of you, Commander, she took my sage advice, by way of one of your world's revered actresses, Mae West. 'Honey, it's not the men in your life...it's the life in your men...'"

"Mae, the 'come up and see me sometime' West! You're an old movie buff, ma'am?"

Ruffled, T'Les disagreed. "I'll have you know, young man, that I'm *not* old. I'll be, well, never mind how old I'll be on my next birthday." T'Les looked royally put-upon, but couldn't sustain her being a tad contrary. This Human, who it was quite understandable what her daughter saw in him, had the gentlest eyes and a genuinely arresting spirit. Vulcan men, for all their willingness to come to terms with the 'new age,' could take lessons, still, T'Les sanctioned.

"No--no--no, ma'am. I wasn't callin' ya old. You're anythin' but. You're a breath of fresh air, as we say back home. What I should've said was you like old movies. Guess I should say vintage."

"Oh, I misunderstood. My apology." T'Les behaved as though starting the conversation anew. "Vintage films. Yes. I wasn't always, but since the introduction of Earth's cinema exchange network, I have developed a liking for them. Particularly from the nineteen thirties and forties."

"The classics to the bone. Me too. Can't get enough of 'em. Oh, yeah..."

"I will vouch for that being true, ‘big boy," T'Pol corroborated which egged Trip on to give her middle a clutch disguised as a squeeze. Lovingly she ad libbed, "We'll always have Movie Night..."

"Here's lookin' at you, kid," Trip bandied, his voice dripping adoration. To T'Les he said, "Got a favorite, ma'am?" As though being given license, Trip reversed his grip, taking T'Pol by her shoulders, while his other hand had her by the waist. He grinned from ear to ear. And he thought what a hoot it was going to be having T'Les, this vivacious example of saucy Vulcan pulchritude, for a mother-in-law, some day.

"There are many I enjoy. One of my particular favorites is 'Father of The Bride.' Your Spencer Tracy was quite the actor."

"That he was, ma'am, that he was," Trip whole-heartedly agreed. "I know what you mean about havin' too many to choose from. I've got a very healthy collection. We'll haveta go through it together one of these days. Pick out what you like..."

"My, how generous. T'Pol..." T'Les stopped talking, captivated by her daughter's luminous glow, obviously a by-product of her association with the heartthrob of a commander. Cannily, she asked, "When is your, as you Humans term it, wedding?" T'Les' eyes glinted distinctly. "Have you set the date?"

"Workin' on it," Trip rejoined, moving in on T'Pol's mellow face to give her a kiss on the other cheek he had neglected. "I've left it up to your beautiful daughter."

"We haven't decided, yet, Mother..."

Anticipatorily, Trip said, "As soon as possible suits me.

"Trip..."

"Trip?" T'Les voiced.

"My nickname, ma'am. Every time T'Pol says it, it always brings home, truly defines, how far our relationship's come." Coaxing T'Pol, Trip nuzzled her scalp above the ear. "As long as I live, I'll never get tired hearing it from your lovely lips."

"I will marry Trip whenever *he* says..." T'Pol gave him a needling look, mildly chastising him.

"It would seem that T'Pol and Elizabeth Taylor's film character have something in common. Which brings me to the reason for my meeting you here." Covertly, T'Les motioned that they follow her, wanting more privacy for the three of them. She led the curious couple to a pear-shaped sort of kiosk furnished with cushioned seats, the backs of which went midway. "Ah, now this is much better. No need for private concerns being discussed out in the open, even in this new day and age of advanced openness."

"Mother, you behave as though you are keeping something from us." T'Pol had made a point of stressing the 'us.'

T'Les, forming her fingers into a steeple, resting her hands on the squat obsidian table before her concurred. "Always the perceptive one you are, dear one. I keep nothing from you, both of you, which is why I am here. I came here to prevent a distasteful scene from occurring at our home."

"No disrespect, Mother, but why are you speaking in riddles?" T'Pol inquired, sounding as though she was borderline complaining.

"Honey, don't ya get the feelin' she hasn't finished?" Trip tactfully interjected. "Why not let her."

Submissively, T'Pol nodded and let him pat her hand resting in her lap without raising an eyebrow. Smiling generously at Trip, thinking how fortunate her daughter was, T'Les introduced, "Koss is there waiting. He's been camped out at the dwelling since early this morning."

"Really?" T'Pol looked disoriented. "Why?"

Sounding disappointed, T'Les continued, "In my excitement over your returning home, I stupidly divulged the day of your return to T'Nimee."

"Who's Koss?" Trip wanted to know, not liking the cryptic way T'Les had started sounding. Somehow sensing that his knowing would be his undoing.

"The man to whom I am prearranged to marry."

"Prearranged?" Trip went several shades paler.

"Yes, since childhood," T'Les supplied with a look of irrepressible regret etched in her face. "An outdated custom and the attendant ritual performed, from a backward age which Koss wants T'Pol to honor by marrying him. He is un-dateable, the farthest thing from being marriage material, to borrow freely from your cultural terminologies, Trip. He's just hanging on to T'Pol because he isn't what most Vulcan women would call marriageable, and so at least he'll have someone.” T’Les took careful note of the intensity of Trip’s eyes. “He's a, and I use this term barring reservations, a stick in the mud. A man who is not only behind the times. He *is* that stifling time." The older woman began wringing her hands, as though by sheer repentance, what had been agreed upon long ago could be undone.

"A loser..." T'Pol couldn't help herself.

"And who's this T'Nimee?" The breathlessness in Trip's voice, the pounding going on squarely in the middle of his chest, sobered him. It was hard to breathe.

"Koss' mother," both T'Les and T'Pol bemoaned in unison.

"A blabbermouth if there ever was one." Next, T'Les said, "I should have known better than to speak personal matters in her presence."

"Ah...mothers...Lord love 'em," Trip muttered quietly, feeling his eyes tear. To have come this far, only to lose her now, he dismally thought. He willed himself not to lose it in front of the ladies, but it took all the gumption he had. "Just lookin' out for her boy," he said barely above a whisper. Now what?, he assessed. For the first time in a long while, the reality of his losing T'Pol, for good this time, resurfaced in all its rank ugliness. "T...T'Pol?"

"I won't. It cannot be expected I comply with a custom that has outlived its usefulness! I could never give myself in the marriage ritual, the 'Koon-ut-Kal-if-fee,' vowing to a man I don't love. I don't even know Koss." T'Pol riveted her eyes to those of the man she had been willing to lose her sanity for. "Never!" Her hands began shaking.

"Of course you could not," her mother reiterated and sheltered the couple's joining of hands with her own. "Being ridiculous never solved a thing!" T'Les stopped frowning, viewing T'Pol with intense affection. She had the answer, to this seemingly insurmountable dilemma, but seeing her child so distressed was painful. "Forgive us the past, T'Pol. What your father and I thought was best. We live in the present, and the future belongs to--"

"Those who boldly go where no one has gone before," T'Pol finished, confidence more embedded in her voice. Placidly, she commented, "You only did what those bygone times dictated, Mother." T'Pol nodded once, then gave T'Les a kind look and gripped her hand tightly.

"Our minds are one, my daughter."

"Yes, Mother, they are. You've always had my best interests at heart."

"Indeed, 'kiv'ldail...always..."

"I love you, T'Pol," Trip attested. "I'll never give ya up. The hell I will--I'll fight for ya if I haveta! If that's what it'll take..."

"No!" T'Pol was adamant. "I won't have you risk your precious life. There will be no fighting to the death!" she said, impassionedly. "NO ‘Kal-if-fee!' A stupid, stupid convention instituted by insecure people who had yet to learn what true happiness means!" she ended, incensed.

"Well, that's a relief. No fun bein' dead, " Trip said with a relieved look of acceptance on his face, but he was far from content. "You know I would, T'Pol. I'd fight for you in a heartbeat. I can't lose you! You mean everything to me--more even!"

"Truly, you have chosen well, my daughter."

Trip brushed a wayward tear from his cheek as he felt T'Pol squeeze his other hand, watching him closely. "So what do we do?"

Without any hesitation, T'Les told him, "You will marry T'Pol."

"Okay...sure. But...like how? Unless..."

"All is arranged," T'Les said with a conspiratorial flair to her doing justice to the dramatic.

"You're kiddin'! I’ll be damned!"

“Not without me,” T’Pol insisted.

Flexing her spunk, T'Les assured, "I kid you not. Near Mount Seleya, there is a small sanctuary set aside for meditation, reflection, contemplation. Everything is arranged...the priest, the acolytes who will serve as witnesses, and my sister, as well."

"T'Ooul?" T'Pol had not fully recovered from shock.

"Yes. She can't wait to see her favorite niece marry *this* day."

"This day?" Trip and T'Pol spoke as one, one totally taken aback twosome.

T'Les regarded them expectantly, noting how much the one had rubbed off on the other. "Once you are joined, Koss will have no claim on you whatsoever, dear one. It will be too late. Our customs have undergone radical change, reaching into every aspect of life." T'Les was looking quite pleased with herself, and the foresight she'd exercised. For not having been with T'Pol for some time, she sensed they were inseparably on the same wavelength.

"Mother..."

"Have I overstepped my boundaries?" T'Les asked, surprised, succeeding in keeping any incredulity out of her voice.

Trip thought for sure T'Pol's answer would be along the lines of, 'Thanks, but no thanks, Mommie Dearest. We've talked about marriage, but when it comes right down to it...we're not ready. Okay, blondie is, but I'm not. Am I?’'

"There will be repercussions." T'Pol said, concern for her mother overwhelming.

T'Les' calmness set the stage for what she said next. "If you refer to my academic position. That, as your red-blooded intended would most likely say, is history..."

"What!" T'Pol exclaimed, visibly shook. "What do you mean?"

"I was forced to resign. Retribution for your so-called culpability surrounding your involvement in the destruction of the P'Jem monastery."

Trip lent his voice in protest along with T'Pol. "What a crock," he said. "The site was a front for illegal weapons production and..." He rolled his piercing eyes. "Smuggling."

"The corruption inherent in the old regime was clearly responsible for the monastery's demise and subversive activities," T'Pol substantiated. "Common knowledge, now."

"That it is, but that's small consequence in these groundbreaking times. The intolerant ways have given way to true enlightenment and forward thinking. The new and improved way of Surak has made all this possible. I too chose a different path." Self-satisfaction enveloped the distinguished woman who was the mistress of her own destiny. "I teach modalities of interplanetary culture at the regional elementary institution of learning. I appreciate the convenience of working close to home, affording me the luxury of going there on my breaks."

"You are teaching children, Mother?" Warmth radiated from T'Pol's eyes, bathing her mother in it and the deep-seated love she felt for this inventive woman who had made a purposeful life for herself and had instilled such non-conformity in her restless daughter.

"I love children, children of every description, from the many worlds they come from. Love everything about them. I love the challenge of influencing, in some small way, vital, moldable minds. The institution is privately-funded, its doors open to the young of all species who have come to call Vulcan home, as well as the many who are here temporarily."

Trip nudged T'Pol. "You said she was somethin', and you weren't exaggeratin’. Not one wit."

"When I grow up, Mother, I wish to be exactly like you," T'Pol said, stroking both her mother's hand, and the hand of the man who, in so many ways was asking for hers.

"You've always known what you wanted, T'Pol. It took a revolution of logic to, as young Terran persons of the late nineteen sixties, early seventies, who where called flower children would express it, 'know where my head was at, and get it together.'" T'Les beamed, holding T'Pol's and Trip's hands securely in her grip. "So, daughter...and my perspective son-in-law...is this the day you break some ground of your own? Or will you have me cancel arrangements, that, by the looks of you two, will just have to be rescheduled anyway."

T'Pol looked longingly as well as shyly, the way Trip loved her looking at him, and he propped his chin on her accommodating shoulder. "Well, darlin', like I said it's all up to you. What do ya say? We tie the knot today, the way your mom'd like. Seems to me she's gone to a hell of a lot of trouble just to make sure we'll be happy."

T'Les rocked her daughter and Trip a little too, when she winked at them. "Dear one, did I say what a wise choice you've made?"

"Yes, Mother, your whole manner leaves little doubt." T'Pol turned her face to Trip's, and kissed the tip of his nose and he chuckled in delight.

"Well?" he asked expectantly. "Honeymoonin’ on Vulcan. Now that's somethin' to tell the grandkids about."

T'Pol and T'Les corrected him in halting tones. "Vulcans do not have honeymoons." And, as if it was a delayed reaction, each added, "Grandkids?"

Trip nipped at his bride-to-be's tender, slender neck. "Just bein' what I am, ya know. Optimistic to a fault. We could try honeymoonin'. You might even like it. You like..." He held his tongue just in time. "Well, uh...you know what ya like. We both do." Making a clicking sound with his tongue, Trip entreated, "Please? Marry me? Today, T'Pol?" He tumbled to his knees.

Leaning down, pressing her lips to Trip's forehead, and under the misty eyes of mother, T'Pol yielded, "Yes, th'y'la. Of course I will...and..." Her lips burned their way to his.
"We will honeymoon at a retreat not far from the Fire Plains."

"Yes, yes the Fire Plains. An excellent choice." T'Les was thrilled for them.

"One of the most beautiful locations on Vulcan," T'Pol clued her glassy-eyed lover in. "And if we try very hard--"

"I know I will," Trip promised, rubbing his leg against T'Pol's beneath the table once he had reseated himself beside her.

"Perhaps, this very night, I will conceive our first... "

"Pointy-eared bundle of joy," Trip said, hoping. "Y'know, maybe we could...well, I mean you, naturally, could have twins."

Ushering the bemused couple to their feet, T'Les said, "Ground transportation awaits. We should be on our way."

"This is your party, all the way, Mom," Trip said with a showy flash of teeth. "It's a good day to sprint into the bonds of holy matrimony." Wishing out loud, he expressed his true feelings. "My mom and dad...I know they'd sure love to be here to see their boy marry the greatest gal in the galaxy, hell, the universe."

Walking behind them, T'Les embraced her daughter and soon to be newest member of the family. "Wishes do come true, even if partially. From the sanctuary, an interplanetary communicative uplink is available. I made sure. All you need do is contact them via interstellar relay, which I'm certain you've done numerous times by similar methods."

"You're kiddin'!" Trip rejoiced, beside himself, unable to stop bobbing up and down like the young boy he felt like right now.

"No, not at all," T'Les reassured.

"This is wonderful," T'Pol commended. "Your parents will be surprised."

"Uh...not all that surprised. I've been hintin'--no. More like braggin' every chance I got, how you're so the one for me...and my current mission was to, someway, somehow get ya to be Misses Tucker by any means humanly possible." Without warning, Trip planted a big, old syrupy kiss on T'Les’ cheek. "I'd have never guessed in a million light years the fantastic mother of my hoped for intended would mastermind our nuptials. God bless ya,
ma'am. I'm forever in your debt..."

"It is I who thank you, Trip, for making my dear one the happiest she's ever been in her life."

Both Trip and T'Pol blushed...

Seven Hours Later...In An Air-Conditioned Bungalow, Two-Tenths of a Mile From The Lava Fields...

"Misses Tucker?"

"Yes, Trip?"

"Misses Tucker." The happy man with his lips pressed against his wife's left breast sighed. "What a nice ring that has...Misses Tucker."

"Misses T'Pol Tucker..."

"Oooh, darlin', you're makin' my brain go all fizzy again."

"You're doing the same to mine. I told you about the bond we would share...eventually. Regardless of your not being Vulcan."

"And you like." His lips moved upwards, so did her hips. HIs mouth caressed the bridge of her pliant nose, then massaged her nostrils.

"I like. I like very much."

"You're a natural bride. You make even a tenty robe, who you could fit ten more people in, look sexy."

"As do you. Your parents looked very pleased."

"They were ecstatic, darlin', and...okay, yeah. Blown away, big time. No mystery why, though. Someone as fantastic as you willin' to get hitched with the likes of me. They never thought I'd let any woman get under my skin enough I'd wanna marry her. They'll be fallin' all over ya when they get to meet ya in person. Your mom's high on their list too. We gotta get 'em all together one of these days."

"Aunt T'Ooul too."

"Oh, yeah, sure. Without a doubt. She's a riot. Sweet little thing, but not sweeter than your mom. She's cornbread laced with molasses, dusted with powdered sugar, crammed with marmalade fillin'...one of my mom's down home specialties."

"Perhaps your mother will instruct me regarding the preparation of some of your favorite foods."

"You won't even have to ask. Mama'll have ya in the kitchen so fast, you won't know what hit ya. And, as if you don't know, *you're* my favorite food." Making good on that claim, he started in on her knuckles, working his way up her arm until his mouth rested at the base of her perfect throat. The silken feel of her warm, enveloping flesh, plastered against him overwhelmed his senses. Here they were, nestled in this, the biggest slab, with its ultra firm mattress, passing for a king-sized bed, enjoying the best of all worlds. "And I'm still hungry..." he growled in her receptive ear. "You keep feedin' the fire. Never stop..."

"Honeymoon..."

"What about it?" Trip tickled her with his tongue, and he knew hearing her giggles would always be icing on the cake, for the rest of their lives, together.

"It is a curious term."

"I know. So?"

"Are you sure honey isn't involved in some way?"

"As sure as I could ever be. No honey whatsoever, not a lick..." Trip smacked his lips and made a play for T'Pol's puffy lower lip. "You'll do...you're the closest thing to honey in this room, baby..."

T'Pol, and Trip did too, felt her heart jump. "Nor the need for visiting a world's moon where the marriage is required to be consummated?"

"Nope. Consummatin' a marriage goes on any place. Here's been as good a one as any, hasn't it..." He held his breath and rumbled, "Baby... Who you're consummatin’ it with is what counts."

"As my mother made clear. Choosing you as mate is the best decision I've ever made. If that weren't unquestionably true, she would have never expressed that opinion. You're hot." T'Pol hugged her legs around him tighter.

"You're way hotter," Trip baited urgently, rolling T'Pol on top of him, stroking her, seeing desire rekindle in her smoldering eyes. "Baby, you're hotter than...than here!"

"I like hot. Makes me crazy, and crazy is good when being crazy is with you." Gently T'Pol murmured against Trip's heaving chest, "My mother is completely right. I love you as I have never loved before.

"Polly..."

"Yes, Trip..."

"I could make believe you're covered in honey from head to toe. Does that work for ya?"

"Yes. Everything you do 'works' for me," she spurred, savoring his earthy taste wherever her tongue happened to be.

"Me too... Let me at those pralines..."

END

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Half a dozen of you have made comments

No woman can resist the Tucker charm! It's a known fact no matter what universe your in! :D Great story! A real treat to read!

Yep this is definitly MU. In a good way of course. You sure had LOL. Great story.

That's a great story !!!!!
I like T'Mom this way ,she reminds me of one of my teachers.
I would like to see Trip teaching T'pol how to snowboard.They should come to Austria,the mountains there are great(I know this 'cos I live there)and the landscape is fantastic !

SEQUEL?!?

Terrific story! Trip and T'Pol are just so perfect for each other and this was lovely. Ali D :~)

i thought they were drunk at frist lol nd t'les it was a funny story in deed.
im surpried u ent put a 2nd chapter lol it so brilliant story with the tucker charm!!