Interlude- Ch. 3

Interlude and Fugue

By vandiver49

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters associated with Star Trek, I'm just borrowing them for a moment. Please don't sue; people in the Navy don't make that much money.

This story takes place after “Singularity"

_________________________________

Chapter 3

Commander Tucker was not amused as he stormed out onto the bridge. He barely stopped to see who was on watch as he proceeded to the turbolift, in hopes of beating the news of his embarrassed back to Engineering. He released a long belated sigh as the doors slid closed behind him. Alone with his thoughts, he was finally forced to replay the events of what should have been a fairly routine breakfast over in his mind. ‘How could I have been so stupid?!’ He chided himself, bagging his head against the wall in frustration.

The absolute last thing he ever wanted was for T’Pol to know that he found her even moderately attractive. That was his personal secret, something that was never meant to see the light of day and now she knew. He dare not speculate what she would do with such intimate knowledge, her mind was far too calculating for him to even hazard a guess. As the turbolift continued its decent one thing was certain; while she might have been victorious this time around, the last laugh would ultimately be his.

* * *

Decks above, T’Pol finished her meal with the Captain and assumed her watch on the Bridge. As she walked over to her console, it was impossible to ignore the incessant giggling emanating from the communications station. “I take it your little plan was a success?” Hoshi asked while under the pretense of searching for miscellaneous broadband frequencies.

“It appeared to have the desired effect.” T’Pol answered, immediately immersing herself into the scanner display, concealing her face and he barest hint of concern etched thereon. She would have never guessed the Chief Engineer to be included in the lot of males onboard who found her attractive. But that was not as nearing as distressing as the realization that the 2.347 seconds it took for his eyes to traverse her body she found slightly…pleasurable.

Being the object of physical desire was not an unusual experience for T’Pol. But where most seemed to only admire her physical attributes, Commander Tucker’s survey of her was more analytical. The look in his eyes was a familiar one, akin to his scan of a diagram, as though he were trying to solve a complex equation. Did he consider her a problem and their continual bickering her preferred solution?

“Well just be careful,” Hoshi continued disturbing T’Pol’s introspection, “Commander Tucker’s not likely to give up so easily.”

The Vulcan turned her chair towards the Ensign, an eyebrow arched in confusion. “Come on Sub-Commander, do you really think he’s just going to let you get the best of him?”

“No,” T’Pol muttered reluctantly, “Likely not.”

* * *

Down in Engineering, Commander Tucker found himself and his staff in an unusual situation; severely under worked. Most of the day was spent fixing all the relatively minor problems a ship encounters from simple wear and tear.

As he sat in one of the numerous Jeffries Tubes throughout the ship, Trip silently contemplated a fitting revenge for his pointy-eared nemesis. His initial solution was to switch her meditation candles with trick ones, but decided against it. He would somehow have to break into her quarters and that was simply too great a risk for even him to take. “Perhaps a rendezvous with everyone’s favorite space dog?” He verbally mused. But again he thought better of it as the Captain probably would appreciate exploiting Porthos in such a manner. No his retribution needed to be of a subtle variety, yet command her highest degree of annoyance. As Trip continued to mull over the best possible prank, another unanswered question popped into his mind; ‘Why?’

Verbal retaliation wasn’t outside of T’Pol’s purview, but never like what he experienced this morning. There must have been some type of catalyst that prompted her to take such a sexual tact. What was he missing? He replayed the entire event in his head once more. It was then, in total recollection that one critical piece of data finally came into focus. Out of the corner of his eye, as he crossed the bridge towards the turbolift was the faint but distinct sound of a strangled laugh coming from the Communications Station. ‘Was she laughing at me?’ He asked himself rhetorically as he finished up the repairs. ‘But for her to do that she would have…’

“Owwdamnittohellsonofa…” Trip train of thought was interrupted by the resounded thud of his head against the bulkhead in response to his epiphany. He instinctively reached towards his crown, searching for the signs of oncoming swelling. He continued to curse as he crawled down to tube, realizing that if Ensign Sato was in on the joke that surely the rest of her clique was too. In fact he had detained one of them inadvertently last night. The thought only proved to aggravate the injury as his head resonated with a fury that could only be attributed to a headache. In such a case he was definitely going to need to see the doctor.

As with everywhere else on the ship, the doctor’s workload was extremely light. Thus Trip’s minor bump was treated as a major crisis. “You really should be more careful when working in confined spaces Commander.” Phlox admonished as he finished healing the small gash on to of the Chief Engineer’s head.

“Thanks doc, I’ll try to remember that the next time I have a revelation.” With Phlox finished with his examination, Trip jumped off the biobed, making one final request. “Hey doc, I was wondering if you might be able to give me something for the headache.”

“Why of course Commander, I’ll be just a moment.” While Trip waited patiently for relief, Phlox decided that now would be a wonderful opportunity to broach another topic. “Also Commander, I feel obligated to inform you that you are past due for your yearly physical.”

Trip cursed silently under his breath as he had completely forgotten about the annual examination. “I’m sorry Phlox, but you know I busy I am. Besides, I’m not that overdue.”

“Commander, these physicals are scheduled to coincide with your birthday so you would remember them. You however are more than three months overdue.” Phlox stated.

“Well I promise that I’ll come back as soon as you have time. I’m sure you have animals to feed, other patients you need to see…” Trip responded, attempting to make his way towards the door.

“Nonsense Commander, the only other patient I have scheduled is Sub-Commander T’Pol for her physical. And unlike some people, I’m sure she’ll have the decency to keep her appointment.” Phlox countered, moving to block Trip’s escape. “Keep in mind Commander that Captain Archer is quite unaware of your delinquency, at the moment.”

The unveiled threat had the desired effect as Trip decided to relent. He climbed back up on the biobed while Phlox went off to gather a host of medical instruments. As he contemplated just how he managed to get himself in his present conundrum, Trip stumbled upon the priceless information Phlox had absently imparted upon him. Slowly, a smile that could only be rivaled by Phlox spread across the Commander’s face.

• * *

If one were not readily familiar with Enterprise’s First Officer, it could be easily misconstrued that she as taking Ensign Sato’s advice for exercising caution to an unnecessary extreme. But the Vulcan was meticulous in everything she did, which was fortuitous as T’Pol had little intention of being subjected to any form of Commander Tucker’s retribution.

Unfortunately, T’Pol and her science team were suffering from the same affliction that plagued the rest of the ship, an abundance of idle time. Refusing to allow a single free moment to go to waste, T’Pol decided to visit sickbay to attend to a personal matter.

Not to her surprise, she was cordially welcomed by the ship’s physician. “Good Morning Sub-Commander, here for your yearly physical?” Phlox beamed. Nodding in the affirmative, she prepared herself for the thirty minute examination.

As Phlox finished his ministrations and assured the Vulcan that she was in the best of health, he found himself posed with a routine query. “Is my medication prepared?” T’Pol asked.

“Oh, your nasal inhibitor was ready earlier this morning. But since I was unsure of how busy you would be today, Commander Tucker graciously offered to drop it off for you in the Science Lab.” He responded cheerfully.

T’Pol’s spidey sense, or whatever the Vulcan equivalent would be, began tingling. Unsure of the ploy the Chief Engineer had hoped to ensnare her in, she decided to exercise a bit of Terran wisdom. “I’m sorry Doctor, but he has yet to deliver it. Perhaps you could prepare another dosage?” Being safe rather than sorry was too logical of a concept to ignore.

“Absolutely Sub-Commander, though I find it strange. Commander Tucker insisted that he would…” Phlox started, but his train of thought was interrupted by T’Pol’s prescription, resting comfortably on the counter.

He immediately reached for the bottle and offered to his waiting patient. “Here you are T’Pol. Apparently, Commander Tucker changed his mind.”

“Indeed.” T’Pol skeptically replied as she took the proffered medicine.

As she walked back to the Science Lab, T’Pol silently pondered what possible interest Commander Tucker would have in her nasal inhibitor. It was a fairly innocuous substance and tampering with it would be futile as she had the mean to identify any anomalies present. She was ready to dismiss the entire idea as the doors to her lab parted. But there, resting neatly on a self was a bottle of nasal inhibitor, as promised.

• * *

Trip was whistling Dixie as he returned to his office, wishing he could see the expression on T’Pol’s face when she returned to her lab. But he was sure that all his plans would come to fruition tonight around dinner. Both Malcolm and the Captain seemed rather enthused about helping out and the necessary arrangements were already being made. Trip really only had one more pressing task before him, primarily what to do with the rest of T’Pol’s newfound friends.

“Crewman Kelly” He called finding her between the EPS conduits and the primary life support systems.

“Afternoon sir,” She replied, slightly startled by his presence, “just finishing up my readings down her.”

“Oh, no problem. I just wanted to apologize for holding you up yesterday. I didn’t keep you from anything did I?” Trip feigned as he casually leaned against the bulkhead.

“Nothing major sir, just hanging with some friends.”

“Well, to make it up to you, when you finish up your rounds, go ahead and call it a day.”

“Are you sure sir?” Jackie asked, her mind jumping between confusion and adulation.

“Definitely, just think of it as my way of saying sorry.”

“Thank you sir!” She replied, quickly making her way up the ladder, leaving in such haste that she failed to here the Chief Engineer’s hushed voice. “No crewman, thank you.”

* * *

T’Pol made her way down the corridor in silence. She was actually looking forward to meeting with the female crewmembers she had recently befriended. But they all seemed preoccupied when she called them at the end of her watch. As it was, T’Pol thought it best to simply indulge in a cup of chamomile tea prior to her evening meditation. But no amount of emotional control could have prepared the Vulcan for what greeted the threshold to the Mess Hall…

“SURPRISE!!!!”

Chapter 4

Return to Chapter 2

Back to Fan Fiction Main Menu

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