A to Z – the final blogging frontier…
Captain’s Log: April 4, 2016
I’ve been evaluating Aeon Timeline, but currently experiencing a glitch, so I can’t display an updated timeline just yet. However, the events in this story occur during January, 2155. I’m reposting yesterday’s timeline, for context, until the problem is ironed out (hopefully soon!)
These are the fan fiction voyages of the starship Enterprise (NX-01), the first Warp Five capable Terran craft. Humans are now able to explore strange new worlds, seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go….
I don’t own Enterprise or her crew. No monetary profit is gained from these stories. I just want to share my passion for these characters and their world.
Today, we’re in San Francisco again, at the jazz club where it all began, and where a new beginning may or may not happen in the wake of tragedy.
“You sure you want to do this, pepperpot? I don’t need you to.”
Trip stood there, feeling ridiculously conspicuous in his Hawaiian shirt, talking to a doorbell. But she’d heard the tradition about not seeing each other before the wedding from Hoshi, or maybe his mother, and she’d decided to adhere to it with her typical precision. He wasn’t going to get even a glimpse before she walked up to the stage to meet him.
He wasn’t going to tell her how much he wanted that moment, how he was clinging to the idea of marrying her, using it as hull plating over that pain that wouldn’t quit. Our baby girl…
“I grieve with thee.” The soft words didn’t come through the doorbell, but instead whispered into his soul. Should have known she’d feel what he felt, especially now, after these last few days with Elizabeth. Parenthood seemed to have made this bond thing a hell of a lot stronger.
“I know,” he whispered to the doorbell. “But you didn’t answer. We don’t have to get married, or not right now, even if you want to. So, if you’re not sure -”
“I’ve been certain since the night we met, t’hy’la.” This time she did use the doorbell; she knew he wasn’t all that good at picking her up when his own feelings were churning, and his emotions tended to send hers surging, too.
“That long?” But he didn’t need her to answer; the memory was right there.
“That long.” Utter certainty in her quiet voice. “Do you wish to marry me now, Trip?”
He smiled just a little at the hint of anxiety in her question. He’d known right from the start that what happened between them back in that jazz club was something special. He hadn’t been able to forget her. But that was nothing compared to the effect he’d had on her, how she’d wanted no one but him since that night, with a force she couldn’t understand or resist.
Something in him had needed to know that. He just wish he’d known it during all those years thinking she didn’t really need him, or anyone else.
Her voice had that edge, like she might break. Damn, he’d waited too long, thinking about the past while she needed an answer.
“Sorry, pepperpot – got distracted.” He needed to fix this, make her feel safe. “You feel that ring on your finger, T’Pol?”
“Yes.” A little bit calmer. Good. Keep going, Tucker.
“I’ve never given a ring to any other woman. And that one – well, you know what it means to me. If you want to know if I’m sure, you just touch that ring, and you’ll know.”
Trip’s dad came around the corner. “Thought I’d find you lurking out here, son. Come on; it’s time to make it legal.”
“Already?” He clutched the small satin box in the pocket of his linen jacket. “It’s only been an hour since we decided to do this.”
“Would you prefer more waiting, t’hy’la?” That edge was back again, dammit. He’d forgotten again that even infinitesimal variances could send her system spiraling, right now.
“Hell, no, woman, I don’t want to wait! I want to marry you, as soon as humanly – and Vulcanly – possible. You just be ready when you hear your cue, pepperpot.”
“I‘m ready now.” As Trip followed his dad up to the stage, T’Pol opened to him, and he could smell her, somehow, in his brain. Citrus, sandalwood – and hot steaming mineral salts, rising up to drown out the rest. Desire, and more. Need. Like after she’d married Koss, or after her Mom died, and the numbness wore off. She wasn’t just ready; she was an order of magnitude beyond it.
“I grieve with you,” he whispered, knowing now what that meant, for her. For them both.
“You all right, son?” Dad was frowning at him, a concerned hand on his shoulder.
“I’m fine, Dad. Just thinking it’s gonna be a long night.”
“Well, before there’s a honeymoon, son, there’s got to be a wedding.” Trip let Dad urge him along, and just held on to her for dear life.
For a real treat, visit other blogs on the #atozchallenge roster. There is a huge diversity to choose from, and I think that’s something T’Pol would find most agreeable, indeed.