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Time Enough
Time Enough
Title: Time Enough
Author: Zane Gray (agent8e9@yahoo.com)
Series: Enterprise
Rating: PG
Summary: As Commander Tucker and Sub-Commander T'Pol return from a visit
to a paradise world, they find their complex relationship growing in ways
they never dared to imagine possible.
About the Story: Time Enough is set after the events of my
previous stories, One Step Back, Two Steps Forward and Sympathies
and Symmetries. Think of it as a touching glimpse into the nervous
thoughts and fledgling emotions of both Trip and T'Pol, experienced during
a routine away mission, as their relationship races toward the inevitable
reckoning of Differential.
"Pellsinor Traffic Control to Enterprise Shuttlepod. You're cleared
to leave orbit. We're transmitting your departure plot now."
Commander Tucker thumbed the com in response, and his easy voice filled
the tiny cabin. "We have it, Pellsinor. Much appreciated. And thanks
for a wonderful visit. Yours is definitely the most beautiful planet I've
seen yet."
The voice on the other side of the transmission - a decidedly female
voice - warmed considerably. "That's very kind of you. Be sure to
tell your Captain that if the rest of your crew is ever in need of
recreation, you'll be more than welcome." Then there was a pause, and
the voice added mirthfully, "If the rest of your friends surf like
you do, Commander, you'll provide enough entertainment for all our
guests."
Trip laughed at this. "Sorry! Nobody's as good as me. But
I'll be sure to pass that along. Shuttlepod out."
With that, he closed the connection, and engaged the craft's autopilot.
Moments later, Shuttlepod Two arched gracefully away from the lush,
blue-white crescent of Pellsinor... and raced away into deep space.
That task complete, the Engineer swiveled in the pilot's seat to face his
passenger. "Well... we're on our way home. Enterprise confirmed their
position, so now it's just you and me for eighteen hours." He
grinned. "And I'll have you know, I even showered before we left."
From the back of the compartment, where she was stowing their bags,
Sub-Commander T'Pol arched an eyebrow in amusement. "That was
considerate of you, Commander. But unnecessary. I have developed a
tolerance for your scent."
"Oh yeah? So we Humans don't stink as bad as you thought, huh?"
"I didn't say that. I have merely grown... familiar with
your personal odor. I have greater difficulty with that of other crew
members."
"Really? What about the Captain?"
Even through her strict emotional control, Trip thought he could detect a
faint grimace in the Vulcan's expression. "The Captain reeks of his
canine. I require liberal use of nasal inhibitor to endure his company."
Trip's laughter burst forth so suddenly that it took T'Pol off guard. It
was nearly a full minute before he regained control of himself enough to
speak. "That might be the funniest thing I've ever heard ya say,
T'Pol!"
The Vulcan patiently indulged him as he struggled through another fit of
amusement. But when he noticed her sudden look of concern, Trip held up
his hand. "I swear I won't tell anyone. Especially not the Captain."
She seemed to relax at this. Trip turned back to the controls and made a
few adjustments to the cabin temperature. Then he stood and removed his
leather field jacket, draping it over an empty seat nearby. He smiled at
T'Pol and took her jacket too when she handed it to him.
"So that's why you asked me to accompany you on this little
jaunt, huh? My smell is least offensive. I guess should be honored."
As he laid her jacket carefully over his own, T'Pol suddenly grew
concerned that she had caused offence. "That was not my only
selection criteria," she noted quickly. "You have been working
very hard of late on repairs to the Enterprise. The Captain and I both
felt that you had earned a rest. And safety regulations require crewmen
leaving the ship to do so in pairs during away missions. As I anticipated
having to spend time preparing my research findings en route, it was only
logical to chose a pilot to accompany me to the Astrophysics Conference."
"Yeah, but this wasn't just about the buddy system. I mean, Travis
is a better pilot than I am. And I'm sure the Captain or Malcolm would've
been happy to tag along with ya."
T'Pol glanced at the deck for a moment before responding. "My
selection was... personal as well." She glanced up at him
seriously. "You have offered me your friendship. I had hoped that
this would be an acceptable way to return the gesture."
Now Trip's smile was filled with warmth. "It sure was. I know ya had
to pull some strings with the Captain to get me here, T'Pol. And I can't
tell ya how much I appreciate it." He raised his arms high over his
head, and reclined back in the pilot's seat in a lazy stretch. "It's
been a long time since I've felt this relaxed. I feel like a new
man."
T'Pol's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Have your tensions been eased?"
she asked tentatively.
"Definitely." Suddenly, Trip's eyes went wide as he realized
what he's just said. "I mean, NO! I mean... yes, I'm not
stressed out anymore. But no... my tensions haven't been eased. Not in the
biblical sense."
The Vulcan struggled to understand, but seemed to realize what he was
getting at. "Then you have not engaged in recreational
intercourse?"
"Nnnnnoooooooo! No way."
Why it was suddenly so important for Trip to be sure that she understood
this was beyond him. But it was. And he was almost certain that he
detected a hint of relief from his companion at the admission. Strange,
given that she was the one who'd first suggested the idea of tension
relief in the first place, back when they'd visited Risa.
"You know, I don't know how you might have gotten the idea. But I've
never engaged in... recreational intercourse." He struggled with the
words. "I mean... at least not since we left Earth anyway."
His companion's eyebrow arched sharply... and Trip knew immediately what
she was thinking. His brow furrowed in irritation. "It was a bowl of
rocks! How the hell was I supposed to know it was a sex thing?
Besides, what about you and that Tolaris guy? Ya sure spent enough time
with him."
From the pained look that suddenly appeared on T'Pol's face, Trip knew
that he'd crossed a line. His expression quickly softened. "Ahhhh
hell. T'Pol... I'm so sorry. That's none of my business. I shouldn't
have--"
"Your apology is unnecessary, Commander. I, too, was inquiring about
matters that were not of my concern." Despite her calm reply, she was
clearly struggling to regain her composure.
"Yeah, but still..."
T'Pol thought she detected his voice tightening. To her surprise, he
reached out and took her hand before continuing gently. "You're my
friend. And what I said was unforgivable. I'm really sorry. Are
you okay?"
T'Pol could sense his concern for her through their light touch. She
found it oddly comforting. "I am fine, Commander."
That was true, of course. But there was something about the incident with
Tolaris that lingered still in her consciousness. Something disturbing.
T'Pol had an irrational feeling, one that she could not suppress, that it
would have as yet unknown effects on her life. Still, Trip could not have
known of the encounter... of Tolaris' violation of her.
The Commander gave her hand a squeeze. "Look... I know I said this
once before. But if you ever need to talk, I'll always be here for you."
She realized that his hands were surprisingly soft for one who used them
so often in his work. His touch was pleasant. Soothing. For a moment,
T'Pol watched as his fingers stroked gently over the back of her hand.
Then she looked up into his eyes. What she saw in them held her
transfixed.
Humans had a saying about the eyes. They called them 'windows to the
soul'. And for the first time, T'Pol thought she understood what that
meant. She saw caring in the Commander's eyes... compassion. She saw his
goodness, felt it through his touch. And she felt something more as
well... something that was only just now coming into being, flickering
gently like a flame. There was no word for it in T'Pol's language. At
least not anymore. The ancient words were forbidden. But some primal part
of herself recognized what she saw in this Human... understood its
importance. Its importance for her.
She blinked. The moment broken, Trip smiled shyly. "So... are you
hungry?"
T'Pol recovered quickly and gave a small nod. "What did you have in
mind?"
Trip opened the pod's galley and began removing items she didn't
recognize. "There was this great little café down on the
beach. I ate there a few times while you were busy at the conference. I
had them whip up something special just before we left."
T'Pol folded down the cabin's work table and he placed two sealed food
containers before them, along with an assortment of utensils. He opened
the lids to reveal a pair of sumptuous dishes. "Let's see... we've
got 'greel-ponja' for you... it's a sort of a rice noodle pasta with spicy
vegetable sauce and sliced nuts sprinkled over it. And I've got something
called 'dark freeling'. Kind of a meat stew, with lotsa stuff you wouldn't
care for in it." He smiled at her again. "Plus... I've got salad
for two. And to drink, sparkling water for you and a local beer for me."
T'Pol sniffed the air gently, and her eyes widened. "It smells
delicious, Commander. Thank you."
"It's the least I can do." He opened their drinks and raised
his into the air. "To friendship?"
His companion followed suit. "Yes... to friendship."
Trip smiled at the Vulcan warmly. And as Shuttlepod Two accelerated into
the darkness, T'Pol's eyes, at least, were smiling back.
...
Some hours later, a soft gasp escaped T'Pol's lips. Alarmed, she looked up
self-consciously from the book she was reading, and was relieved to see
that Commander Tucker had fallen asleep on the small, fold-out bunk beside
her chair. She was grateful that he was not witness to her unforgivable
lapse of control.
T'Pol felt foolish. But the evidence was clear... her time was fast
approaching. Her body chemistry was churning rapidly out of control. It
should not be. But despite the best efforts of Doctor Phlox to delay it,
the drugs with which Silik had flooded her system had quickened her
metabolism inevitably. Logically, her unbalanced emotions were the result
of simple biology. At least that's what she told herself. But the reality
was, there was more to it. Her feelings, she knew, had everything to do
with the Human who lay beside her.
Taking a deep drink of the bottle of sparkling water, T'Pol let the cool
liquid soothe the tightness of her throat. And slowly, she brought her
emotions back into some semblance of balance. Then she laid her book on
the seat beside her... and did the one thing she could not bring herself
to prevent. T'Pol watched Commander Tucker sleep.
She observed the silent rhythm of his breathing. She savored the peaceful
look on his face... admired the pleasing geometry of his features. T'Pol
relished the opportunity to do this. It was one of the reasons she'd
invited him along in the first place... but only one of them.
T'Pol had watched him sleeping often during their long journey to
Pellsinor. During breaks in the Astrophysics Conference, she'd even walked
down to the boardwalk to watch him further, as he enjoyed the pristine
sand and surf the seaside resort had to offer. Her spirit rejoiced in the
obvious delight he took from participating in a local surfing
competition... the pleasure with which he recounted the events to her in
the evening over dinner.
"You should see the height of the curls, T'Pol! I've never seen
surf like that back home!"
"Pellsinor has three moons, Commander. The ocean tides are therefore
more extreme."
"Extreme is an understatement! Sure am glad the beach has a sandy
bottom, 'cause I've been getting knocked on my ass out there all day long.
Back on Earth, surf like that'd kill me. But jeez... talk about fun! I
wish you could see it, T'Pol!"
Of course, she had, though he could not have known. And it was a memory
the Vulcan would cherish always. She'd left the conference as often as
possible to indulge herself. She'd even eaten at the same café
where he'd obtained their earlier meal... sampled the very same dish he'd
selected for her. It touched her that he knew her well enough to make the
same culinary choice on her behalf that she had.
So much about this Human was comforting to her. Familiar, somehow, in a
way she could not begin to understand. It was not surprising that
Commander Tucker engendered such feelings in her. He had a similar effect
on almost everyone he met.
On several occasions during their three-day stay on the planet, T'Pol had
witnessed the local females admiring the Commander's athletic physique...
his emotional exuberance... his charisma. She knew instinctively that they
were attracted to him. Even his fellow shipmates on Enterprise reacted to
him in an emotional way. More than once, she had observed as crewmen seem
to light up when he entered the room. In the Mess Hall, when they met for
lunch, people often called out greetings to him or waved as he passed. And
the Commander always took a moment to respond to each personally. She knew
his door was always open to them when they needed to talk about a personal
issue.
For a long time, T'Pol had felt that such behavior was inappropriate.
After all, Commander Tucker was a senior officer. Such emotional
interactions were unthinkable on a Vulcan ship, and for so long she had
dismissed the Commander because of this. But when things were tense, it
was often Commander Tucker who provided the greatest reassurance to the
crew. When the Captain was struggling with something, or was feeling the
heavy burdens of command, a conversation with the Commander was often the
best catalyst for effective decision-making. T'Pol had observed that if
Archer had a problem, he often took a walk down to Engineering, only to
return to the Bridge with greater confidence. She had even learned to
encourage such conversations between them.
And it wasn't just the Captain who benefited from Trip's counsel. T'Pol
recalled a past incident with a young Lieutenant in Engineering, who had
been late for a duty shift because of illness. When T'Pol had
investigated, she'd discovered that the young woman had imbibed too much
alcohol with her friends the previous evening. T'Pol's first reaction had
been to report the woman to the Captain. But Commander Tucker had
intervened. He'd spoken to the woman, and was certain the incident would
not be repeated.
"This is why we have a chain of command, T'Pol. We can't report
every little thing like this to the Captain - he'd never be able to do his
job effectively. Hailey's assured me that it was a mistake and that it
won't happen again."
"You are foolish to take her assurances on face value alone.
Mistakes can prove costly in deep space."
"Mistakes are Human, T'Pol. But that's how we learn. Just trust me
on this, will you? I'll take responsibility for it if it backfires. But I
can guarantee it won't happen again."
Sure enough, it hadn't. The Lieutenant's efficiency had actually
increased after the incident. The young woman had redoubled her efforts,
earning a commendation in her next two service reviews. In fact, the
performance of the entire Engineering staff was exemplary. And so T'Pol
had been forced to admit, against all logic, that the Commander's
unorthodox style of command was effective. He was, in a very real way, the
glue that held Enterprise's Human contingent together.
Its Vulcan contingent as well, she knew.
So much about this man intrigued her. From the first day they'd met,
Charles Tucker had challenged her. Forced her to reconsider beliefs she'd
once thought immutable. And yet he respected her as well. She knew this
beyond doubt. Her life had been immeasurably enriched by this Human's
presence in it.
In a moment of weakness... or perhaps it was strength... T'Pol reached
out to him. With the lightest of touches, she ran her fingers through his
sun-bleached hair. She traced a fingertip along the gentle curve of his
ear. He shivered in his sleep, and she shivered too. When he finally
turned his cheek into her caress, she withdrew her hand quickly. His eyes
rolled under closed lids, responding to dreams T'Pol could not even begin
to imagine. But she wished to know them nonetheless.
As she turned to gaze out the viewport at the infinity of stars beyond,
T'Pol anguished over the realities of a Universe that could bring the two
of them together, and yet place so many obstacles between them.
He was Human. She was Vulcan. It was as simple as that.
And yet he meant everything to her. He gave her life meaning... flavor...
in ways she had never known.
What would she risk for a taste of it? What would she sacrifice for a
chance at everything?
...
Trip had been having the strangest dreams. He'd dreamed that T'Pol had
touched him... that she wanted him. That she'd even fallen in love
with him.
Must be all the sun and fresh air, he mused. Not used to it
after all these months on Enterprise. And we've never spent so much time
together, just the two of us. That must be it.
Yeah, right. Just keep telling yerself that...
The fact was, Trip enjoyed spending time with T'Pol. She was easy to talk
to. Even though she'd nearly spent more time in space that he'd been
alive, it was almost like everything was new to her when she was with him.
And the more time he spent in her company, the more layers he discovered
to her personality. The more fascinating she became.
Contrary to everything he'd believed about Vulcans, she was
extraordinarily open to possibility. It required only a little patience
and encouragement. After he'd woken from his latest nap - he'd lost track
of time the moment he left the planet's surface, as he always did without
the sun or a set schedule to ground him - he'd taken it upon himself to
expose her to a little of his musical tastes. They'd spent an hour
negotiating a choice she found acceptable. He's first tried some early
Rolling Stones - always high among his favorites. She thought the speakers
were faulty.
The fidelity of this composition is less than optimal.
That's 'cause this song was recorded back in the days when analog
monophonic was state of the art.
Most inefficient. Perhaps another selection would be better...
He'd next called up a little Peter Gabriel. She seemed to appreciate the
song's musical value, but then...
The lyrical imagery is too rooted in the sexual.
That's sorta the point. I think you'll find that a lot of Human behavior
is rooted in the sexual, T'Pol.
Indeed...
Unfortunately, Trip had missed the slight blush of her ears. Instead,
he'd puzzled over another choice. Finally, he'd tried Miles Davis.
Here we go... A Kind of Blue. Didn't you tell me you liked Jazz?
You are correct.
Well, this is the best there is. A classic recording if ever there was
one.
I've not heard it before. I believe it will suffice.
He'd been inordinately pleased with himself at finding something she
finally seemed to enjoy. After listening together for a time, T'Pol had
gone back to reading her book. Content that she was enjoying herself, Trip
turned back to the flight controls to check their position. Then he'd run
a diagnostic on the pod's long-range sensors just to satisfy the engineer
in him. Finally, he'd been thinking seriously about taking out his
harmonica. And then, the strangest thing happened.
He glanced out the viewport to look at the stars... and happened to catch
T'Pol's reflection in the clear plexsteel. She was sitting on the bunk
behind him, her book held open, but down in her lap. She was watching him.
And he could swear that she was crying.
But by the time he'd turned around to look at her, she'd set her book
aside and switched off the reading light, leaving the cabin in darkness
save for the glow from the instrument panel. Then she lay down as if to
sleep, with her body turned away from him so that he couldn't see her
face. Had it just been his imagination?
"T'Pol?"
There was a notable pause before she responded neutrally. "Yes,
Commander?"
He wanted to be sure. He so badly wanted to know her thoughts. But he
couldn't bring himself to ask.
"Sleep well."
"Thank you," she replied softly.
Within moments, she was asleep. And Trip felt as if an opportunity had
been lost.
He turned back to the diagnostic. Tried to absorb himself with predicting
its results. He ran it again. And again. But the sensors were in perfect
working order each time. Damn them. He almost wished for a malfunction,
just so he'd have something to occupy his mind. To keep himself from
thinking about her.
What had she been crying about? Had she been really crying? He was pretty
sure he hadn't imagined it. Trip began to worry. Vulcans didn't cry, did
they? What did it mean? Was she all right? Why had she been watching him?
For a few minutes, he simply listened to the sound of her breathing
against the soft humming of the thrusters. Then he thought of her book
sitting on the bunk beside her. And his need to know overcame his better
judgement. He turned and reached for it.
It was an old book, Trip noted as he held it in his hands. Leather bound
and well kept. He smelled its rich, earthy odor. Surely a Vulcan text.
There was no title on the cover, so he opened it to the first page. He was
surprised at what he read there.
Love Poems and Sonnets of William Shakespeare.
He glanced down at T'Pol's sleeping form. Would she never cease to
surprise him?
Looking at the book again, Trip saw that there was a silky strip of
ribbon marking the page she'd been reading. Opening the book to the marked
place, he read the words he found there... Against my love shall be as I am now,
With Time's injurious hand crush'd and o'erworn;
When hours have drain'd his blood and fill'd his brow
With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn
Hath travelled on to age's steepy night;
And all those beauties whereof now he's king
Are vanishing, or vanished out of sight,
Stealing away the treasure of his spring;
For such a time do I now fortify
Against confounding age's cruel knife,
That he shall never cut from memory
My sweet love's beauty, though my lover's life:
His beauty shall in these black lines be seen,
And they shall live, and he in them still green.
Trip sat back heavily on the pilot's seat. His dreams came flooding back
into his mind. Were they... real? Could they be? He thought of the
moment they'd shared earlier, over dinner. The look in her eyes when he'd
held her hand. The sadness he'd seen, and the other things too... feelings
she'd tried to hide from him. But it had all there for him to read, if he
wished, pooling liquidly in her eyes.
Something twisted inside of Trip then. Something frayed and snapped in
his chest, coming undone. Beyond his ability to repair. Beyond his desire
to repair.
T'Pol did have those feelings, he realized. Powerful feelings. What it
meant for them, he couldn't yet say. But somehow, it changed everything.
With a heavy sigh, Trip set the book back down beside her. Then he took
out a blanket, and spread it gently over T'Pol's sleeping form. And as he
turned back to the flight controls in the darkness of the cabin, he began
to wonder about the future.
...
Jonathan Archer was a patient man. But he found himself pacing back and
forth in the corridor as he waited for the Flight Deck to re-pressurize.
As the Enterprise's Captain, he knew that he relied on his Chief Engineer
and First Officer to keep things running smoothly. But he hadn't realized
how much he'd miss them when they weren't around. And four days of dinners
alone in the Captain's Mess was more than enough. So when the light
signaled that the atmosphere in the bay had been equalized to ship's
normal, he was through the doors in an instant.
The hatch to Shuttlepod Two was just opening as he bounded down the metal
stairs to greet his friends. And then they appeared, Trip emerging first,
then turning back and holding out his hand in gentlemanly fashion to help
T'Pol to the deck. To Archer's surprise, she accepted.
"Welcome back, you two! So is Pellsinor as beautiful as the pictures
in Vulcan database make it look?"
Trip smiled at him - a full-on toothy grin. "Better. Beaches to die
for, Captain! I spent the whole time just swimming... soaking up the sun.
And poor T'Pol here was stuck inside talking about dark matter and
cosmological constants. I almost feel guilty for havin' all the fun."
"The conference was hardly boring. On the contrary, I found much of
the discussion quite fascinating. I have uncovered a number of potential
new avenues for my research."
Trip glanced at her dubiously, but the sparkle in his eyes made it clear
he was just teasing her. "Uh-huh. Not as much fun as surfing though.
Ya shoulda seen me, Captain. I haven't been in that kinda form in years."
T'Pol arched an eyebrow at her travel companion. "My understanding
was that you spent the whole time getting knocked on your ass. Am I in
error, Commander?"
Archer's laughter echoed through the bay as Trip grinned sheepishly. "I
think you've been busted, Trip."
"Yeah... well, I think I did pretty well considerin' I haven't been
on a board in more than four years." Trip reached back into the pod
and retrieved their bags. He handed one to T'Pol.
"Thanks again for invitin' me along, T'Pol. I really had a blast."
"You are quite welcome, Commander. I found your company to be... not
at all unpleasant." She turned to the Captain. "If you will
excuse me, sir, I wish to freshen up and meditate."
"Of course. Good you have you back, Sub-Commander." With that,
T'Pol climbed the stairs toward the catwalk above. Archer turned back to
his best friend.
"Not at all unpleasant? High praise from a Vulcan."
The engineer smiled again as he closed the pod hatch behind him. "Yeah,
well... I can be civilized on occasion."
"Never thought otherwise. You up for a little water polo? A couple
fresh matches just came in off subspace..."
"Sounds great! And that reminds me... there's a case of Pellsinorian
beer in the cargo compartment. Thought maybe it'd make a nice change."
Archer smiled brightly and slapped him on the shoulder. "I knew I
picked you for my Chief Engineer for a reason." With that, he walked
around the craft to retrieve the bounty.
As the Captain disappeared behind the tail of the shuttlepod, Trip
glanced up at the catwalk thoughtfully. T'Pol had almost reached the doors
leading out of the bay. And then, the silliest, most irrational thought
popped into his mind.
If she looks back, she loves you...
T'Pol reached the doors and triggered the control. But as she was about
to step through them, she paused and glanced down at him, just for an
instant. Trip gave her a goofy little wave. And as she disappeared into
the corridor... he could swear he saw a hint of a smile on her face.
Archer spent the rest of the evening trying to figure out why his best
friend was grinning like an idiot.
...
Later that night, T'Pol sat on the floor of her cabin in meditation. The
delicate glass sculpture that Commander Tucker had given her flickered
invitingly in front of her, and she gradually lost herself in its glow.
Emotions swirled turbulently within her. Forbidden thoughts. Words drifted
through her consciousness. His words, spoken not so long ago.
"Maybe if you knew you only had forty or fifty years left, things
would start to feel a little more urgent."
T'Pol finally understood that urgency. Even now, she could feel the time
of pon frell overtaking her. Soon... she would have to choose. Mate or
die.
"My friends call me Trip..."
Had she really known from the beginning? Perhaps. But she had asked him
to accompany her to Pellsinor so that she could be certain. And now she
was.
She could not desire Commander Tucker. But she did. He was the path she
could not take. But she would.
"Life is about gettin' your hands dirty. Seein' things with your
own eyes - not just watching 'em remotely on a viewscreen. Touching...
experiencing. Feeling."
T'Pol was certainly feeling now. The sonnet in her book had touched a
painful nerve. And now, her heart ached profoundly for a loss she had not
yet suffered. Forty or fifty years. Then she would have nothing left but
memory... memory, and the prospect of more than a century alone.
He was Human. She was Vulcan. And yet he meant everything to her.
What would she sacrifice for a chance at everything?
All she had and more. Her past... even her future. All in exchange for
forty or fifty years.
In the end, T'Pol was surprised at how easy it was to take the first
step. Her choice had already been made.
T'Pol had all the time in the world. But there would never be time
enough.
--- FIN ---
If you enjoyed what you just read, be sure to check out One Step
Back, Two Steps Forward and Sympathies and Symmetries (which
precede this story), as well as Differential and The Early
Hours (which are set after it). Watch for the next installment in this
series, Objects in Motion, coming later in 2003.
And thanks to The Bard for the lovely, simple angst of Sonnet 63.
Best wishes as always!
Zane Gray agent8e9@yahoo.com
4/21/03
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A whole mess of folks have made comments
On 22 April 2003 at 04:58 AM AurraSing said:
****sighhhhhhhhhh****
"Later in 2003" cannot come soon enough!! On 22 April 2003 at 05:57 AM Tracy-TheNag3 said:
Lovely. Just Lovely.
Can picture our Trip on his stick.
Can so well picture T'Pol sitting and observing him...
Oh so nice.
Later in 2003! What! How about later in April 2003?!?!?! Please come one don't kill us with the wait. Please!!! On 22 April 2003 at 10:04 AM Alison M. DOBELL said:
I just love and adore this piece. It slots in so effortlessly with the rest of this series and you write the developing relationship between Trip and T'Pol so beautifully it makes my heart sigh. Well done and a thousand thank yous. Ali D :~) On 22 April 2003 at 04:46 PM Reanok said:
I really enjoyed reading this story especially the insight into Trip and T'Pol's thoughts while she watched Trip sleeping.About the feelings she had for him and the decisions that she made to be with him.Also Trip's shock at discovering thatT'Pol had feelings for him after he noticed how she been watching him .And then reading the Shakespeare sonnett was some the best part of the story.I think this one of my alltime favorite stories from Zane.I could really feel the emotions in this one.Especially T'POl's heartache about not having enough years or time to be with Trip.That we would sacrifice everything to be with him. On 23 April 2003 at 04:15 AM Alora said:
I just have to say, that I love this piece! It's the perfect bridge in the series and gives up a look at how the relationship evolves. And where it started from. Just truly, well written. And please, keep up the great work! Just super! On 27 April 2003 at 09:31 AM Maddie said:
A fantastic piece - love how you worked in the Shakespeare! I love the shifting of mood in it . . . This story is just a quiet, lovely thing to behold. On 28 April 2003 at 04:11 AM Apollo said:
This was so nice to read! Thanks for sharing it. On 29 April 2003 at 04:13 PM Woaca said:
Thankyou Zane for this wonderful story. I had tears in my eyes when I'd finished it, you seem to understand them so well. Keep these beautiful pieces coming. On 02 April 2005 at 10:26 PM designer said:
lovely, really lovely. I can't say it enough that I absolutely love the way you write these characters, and the way you write period. They absolutely rivet me to the screen.
Where is the rest? It's now 2005!!!!! On 31 July 2005 at 01:55 AM Sqewed said:
Hi Zane! I know I've read this before but reading it again in light of Trip's death has given your fic a whole new level of poignancy. I couldn't help the lump in my throat especially when I got to the part of the sonnet until the end.
You did say you were going to write more. If ever you do, I'm curious as to where you're going to take this now that Enterprise has ended and Trip has died. (I really hate saying that!) On 24 March 2006 at 07:58 AM Archangel said:
Now I've been reading around, and I have to say that this is one of the best, well thought and considerate pieces of fan fiction I have ever read. I love how T'Pol realises that they are different, but no matter what, they belong together. I'm off to school now, and I can tell, that has made my day, and the rain outside, doesn't seem so bad now. Thank You
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