I am basing my stories uponStar Trek: Enterprise, and the intriguing interspecies relationship between T’Pol of Vulcan and Trip Tucker, who is very, very human.
POTENTIAL SPOILER ALERT!
Today’s Story A Day promptis to write a story that includes one of the “winter” holidays – real or imagined.
As it turns out, Zero Hour – the climactic episode in the season-long Xindi arc – is set on February 13-14, 2152. As it also turns out, our erstwhile diffident couple have grown visibly closer, although their friction remains…
It’s rather interesting, when a human tries to explain a has-been romantic holiday to a Vulcan…but is it possible that she has the means to understand this particularly human tradition, with a Vulcan twist?
And now,an excerpt of my story, “Valentine’s Day”. For the full version, click the title.
T’Pol looked around the Bridge. The humans’ joy was pervasive, and she was suddenly in danger of being overwhelmed by it. Logic wass of little use, against emotion of this magnitude.What might Captain Archer would do, in this moment? She could almost see him, moving around the Bridge, visiting with everyone, giving each a moment‘s attention.
She was not as adept at knowing the proper words as he; his parting words to her, for example, had given her a moment of humor and calm amidst fear and self-doubt, as she stood beside Trip. “I expect you to keep him in line.”
Something in his manner said he knewit would prove her largest challenge –and the most rewarding. The Captain was a perceptive man.
She began with Trip. How could she not? He was partner, accomplice, friend – and so many other things. He met her gaze, smiling. The epidermal decay seemed to only enhance his appeal. His satisfaction rolled through him, reached out, caught her up.
“Thank you for allowing me to keep you, however marginally, in line.” His hands rested on her console, and T’Pol watched in fascination as her own fingertips reached out –
And brushed against his –
A tiny gasp broke from them both, at once. Her fingers quivered with the awareness of him, and his blue eyes glazed with latent emotion as his other hand reached up to wipe his mouth.
“Any time. At all.” He swallowed, seeming to come to some decision as his focus shifted to their fingers, now side by side. “You make a damn fine Captain.” In a low, rough whisper, he added, “Little pepperpot.”
She brushed her scarred fingertips to his again, intrigued by his voice, and the strange name he seemed to have adopted for her. Ever, she’d had the need to touch the flame, to know for herself. Her eyes closed, for a breath, and she found the strength to move away.
Doctor Phlox was watching, his eyes sparkling, missing nothing. T’Pol went to him. “Your abilities allowed this mission to succeed, Doctor.”
“I only enhanced the plan you and Commander Tucker conceived,” he said, gently. “Hope for the best, in all things, T’Pol, hmmn?”
T’Pol remembered that Denobulans were rather reknowned as matchmakers, and the significant glance Phlox made past her shoulder to where Trip sat gave the words deeper meaning.
She inclined her head. “Indeed.”
“I’m proud to call you ‘friend’,” he said, softly enough that only she could hear. It was acknowledgment, not only of this mission, but of her personal journey.
She nodded slightly. “And I you, as well.”
Once she’d moved around the Bridge, seeing everyone, she went to the captain’s chair – to find Trip standing with his hand on the back of it. “You’ve done your due diligence, and then some, Cap’n. And you’ve earned a little time to yourself…you’ve been working pretty damned near nonstop for at least the last two days.”
“As have you, Commander,” T’Pol said mildly.
“I suggest you both take a few hours.” Phlox said, mildly. “Of course, if you are unwilling to take my suggestion, I will make it an order.” That unflinching Denobulan determination was in his voice.
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