Welcome to Day Twenty of Just Jot It January, where the prompt is: “transcendent,” used any way we wish. Today, I offer you yet another peek into my fan fiction playground, with the final installment of my A Beagle’s Bedside Manner sequel story. Follow the links below to read previous installments.
Day Fifteen: “What’s Up, Doc?”
Day Seventeen: “In the Middle of Sickbay”
Day Nineteen: “Cause for Concern”
And, as always, standard disclaimer applies. I write these stories for love, not profit. I don’t own the characters or their world. It’s not my fault that they keep whispering stories in my head, and that they demand I write them, is it?
She Belonged Here
Trip spun away again, toward the door.
“Please don’t go.” It was a thick, hoarse whisper; that voice she used when she felt more than she could keep inside.
When she was breaking.
That spun him round fast, but not fast enough, apparently, because T’Pol was huddled on the biobed, her knees up to her chin, hugging herself, and new tears streaked her pale face. Her eyes were focused down and away again; she needed privacy –
And she needed him.
Even after he’d done this to her, snared her into feeling things maybe she was never meant to feel, into feeling things she couldn’t control, she still needed him. And he’d done this to her; he couldn’t let her down now, even now that he knew the truth. Whatever had happened between them that made him her t’hy’la – the person she needed to get her through the rest of this awful day and the ones after it – it was all because he’d come into her room still coated in that damned trellium ore, and started the chain of events that led them here, to this moment.
But he could think about all that later. Right now, he had a duty to this woman, his Captain, and he was damned well going to do it. He went back to her bed, sat down on the edge. “Sorry,” he said, as she came to him. “I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
“Trip.” Soft, but firm. Like her, here in his arms. Now that he knew why, was it wrong to feel like somehow this was right, that she belonged here?
“Yeah?” He tried to match her tone.
“I would have gone to the Seleya, even if you hadn’t remained and accepted neuropressure. I would still have been affected, and if Phlox’s scans are accurate, become addicted. But I would have gone without the benefits of the intimacy we had attained. I relied greatly on that, during the mission, as I have since.”
“But we could have had that without -” Why the hell was he always so shy about saying what they’d done? She certainly wasn’t. “Without our mutual ‘explorations.’”
“Perhaps we could have. But among my people there is a word that encompasses a tenet of our philosophy: Kaiidth. Roughly translated, it means, ‘What is, is.’ There’s no point in resistance or speculating on alternate circumstances.” She took a breath; she seemed as comfortable here as she ever had during the aftermath of their trysts. “And, in this case, I wouldn’t choose alternate circumstances that negated what we have shared, as I have found the experience transcendent.”
If her words hadn’t shut him up, that look in her glowing eyes would have done the job.
Is Trip right about T’Pol belonging in his arms?
Will she be able to deal with the diagnosis?
Can their relationship be enough?
This is the end of the chapter, and, for now, also of this story. But there will eventually be more on my fanfiction page. And, for those who want more TnT fiction, clicking here might tickle your fancy, too!