This post is part of Linda G.Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday meme -an unedited stream of consciousness piece that ties into the weekly prompt: “-eat”, as it is, or with additions.
This month, I’m playing SOCS a little differently, combining it with the Story A Day September challenge. I’ve decided to follow the prompts there, too, and, to up the ante and try to placate that Vulcan lady and her favorite engineer,, every story will be another installment of The IDIC Romance. today’s prompt is The Secret …someone has one…does it get revealed, or not? How does it factor into the story?
Standard -Issue Disclaimer: I own none of them; I love all of them; I want no money for playing with them, or sharing….
Note: I envision this taking place early in the first season – somewhere around S1E8:“Breaking the Ice”.
This story is the latest installment of the “language barrier” arc that includes, “I, Eye, Aye,Sir?” and “Zip, Zap,Whoosh, ZOOM!”. I love exploring how a Vulcan would perceive human language, and the further vagaries of English, that most convoluted and hybridized of languages….
So here they are….again. =)
“Are You Going to Eat That?”
“Eat, meat, treat, feat, greet – “
“Try that last one again.”
“Hello, ladies.” Trip smiled at the two dark heads side by side. They were facing the door, with matching datapadds and mugs of tea. For the first time, he noticed that they were a lot alike, these two. “You’re getting pretty cavalier about these purportedly ‘secret’ reading lessons, aren’t you? I could’ve been anybody.”
“T’Pol knew it was you.”
“Oh, did you, now? And how did you know that?”
T’Pol lifted her mug and sipped. He was starting to get the idea that she did that when she needed a minute to come up with something, because she wasn’t about to give up her secrets. The whole damned species seemed to think that damned near everything was ‘classified’, and getting T’Pol to open up about anything was about like getting warp two out of that engine he’d made from soda cans when he was six….
“There is a certain – energy – that precedes your arrival, Commander Tucker. Your kineticism tends to -displace – quiet and calm.”
Trip looked at Hoshi. “I think our Vulcan friend here just said I disrupt class.”
“I think she might have.” Hoshi was trying to stifle a giggle. T’Pol didn’t react at all, but that wasn’t exactly big news. Trip turned to the drinks dispenser, and ordered coffee. He surveyed the selection of fruit, and grinned when he saw plums. He chose two for himself, and grabbed a third for good measure.
He pulled up a chair at their table, even though the place was deserted except for the three of them, and sat down without asking.
Hoshi gave him a look that was half-warning and half-amused. T’Pol either ignored him, or did a damned good impression of it.
“Eat, meat, treat, feat, greet – I fail to see why you wished me to address the final word again, Ensign Sato. It follows the same pattern as the others in the series.”
“Visually, it does. But it’s not pronounced the same.”
“That is highly illogical.”
Trip wanted her attention. That was pretty damned illogical, too – when he had it, it almost always ended in an argument, and friction on both sides. Still, when she was focused on him, he felt pretty damned great – even if she was tripping up on that word…
As he started to juggle the three plums, Trip realized that it had been way too long since he’d slept. He’d gotten a whole batch of ideas for engine modifications, and had been in Engineering well before first shift, only leaving long enough to grab a bite. Maybe he shouldn’t stick around; he might get too obnoxious even for Hoshi.
Except now T’Pol was looking right at him. And she seemed interested.
Might as well play with fire – or a certain fascinating Vulcan….
Trip tossed a plum her way. “Catch, T’Pol.”
She caught the fruit effortlessly, flipped her wrist, and sent it back to him. Damn. Hadn’t known she could do that. He sent her another plum, kept the next, sent the third to her. She kept both, and juggled them without looking away from him.
Trip sent her the last plum, and she kept all three aloft for three rotations, then sent one back, then another. When Trip had two, he passed one back, and she sent one to him a beat later, and then they were juggling across the table, while Hoshi sat back and just grinned at them…
“How the hell do you know how to juggle?!”
“It’s a simple matter of physics, Commander. The skill is practiced by most Vulcan children, to improve the applied understanding of physics principles, and to refine coordination.”
She was so beautiful that he forgot what he was doing, and flubbed a plum. It thumped straight into his coffee mug, spraying liquid, and Trip jumped backwards to avoid getting a lap full of hot coffee.
T’Pol held the other two plums without comment.
“I think she’s practiced that more than you have, Commander,” Hoshi said. “Here, I’ll get you something to clean up with, since I’m pretty sure neither of us is your mother.”
“Sorry I was a disturbance in the Force,” Trip told T’Pol.
“Yup.” He knew she wanted to know; but it wasn’t like she didn’t make a habit out of keeping everyone else guessing. “Listen, about those words – that last one is supposed to rhyme with ‘ate’, Not ‘eat’. As in – ‘you ate sliced plum in a restaurant once’; not ‘are you going to eat that, or just juggle it?’”
She set the plum down on the table, very firmly. She was turning burnished copper, but she kept her eyes on the padd like what he said didn’t mean a thing to her. “Eat, meat, treat, feat – great? That makes no sense.”
“Welcome to humanity,” Trip told her, and took a big bite of the plum he held as Hoshi tossed him a rag. “Mmm, this plum is great. You really should try one.”
Will T’Pol eat a plum?
Will she and Trip ever juggle again?
Will Hoshi and Trip help T’Pol untangle her command of written English?