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Before Janeway...and Picard...before Spock...and Kirk...the Star Trek saga began.
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Invite friend
Between Friends by gammara - Trip and Archer get into a fight (Part IV)
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----------------------------------------------- Her cabin was lit like a cathedral – yellow light flickered onto the darkened walls and ceiling, semi-illuminating the room. Less than romantic, it set the room afire with solemnity and occasion. The odor of the room was chamomile and burned wax, smells Trip equated with meditation or neuropressure. The woman in front of him was perfection: the purple catsuit she wore clung to her figure hugging every curve he’d ever appreciated … and luckily got to see in the flesh. It made his lips slope up, despite the fact it hurt his puffed mouth to do so. As he sat down and she’d Vulcanly fretted over the food in her quarters, the chitchat – which somehow on Enterprise she’d learned to do – concentrated on trivial matters until she brought up the captain. The two were lost in the moment, poking at their food as if they’d lost their appetite. She said, “He asked how you were.” Trip frowned. “Huh.” He didn’t care; not right now anyway. She ducked her head down and sipped at her water. “What are you going to do about him?” Trip asked. “I neglected to record the incident,” she said. “After I returned to the Bridge, I … contacted him privately.” “What’d he say?” he asked. She swallowed deeply. “He … volunteered to take a two week leave of absence.” Trip nodded. His own private punishment, besides the stitches, was also a one-day suspension. It was something he’d easily agreed to. Although the captain threw the first punch, he was working on raising the man’s hackles by dragging up his sex life (or lack there of) and his actions in the Expanse. “I think he’s in love with you, T’Pol,” he finally came out and said. The statement hung in the air and both avoided each other’s eyes. When she didn’t respond, he perched forward. “What do you think about that?” he asked. She remained stoic, but something resembling fear squirmed in her eyes. “He is a friend,” she finally admitted. “A close one.” He nodded along as she spoke the words; he knew as much. Trip said, “I think he’s been feeling it on and off. Hard to tell with him; he’s not exactly an open book. But, pounding my face in gives me a pretty good indication you mean something to him. Something more than a science officer and first officer.” Her fork lazily stabbed at a piece of lettuce. “You know I’m right,” he whispered. For the first time in a few minutes, she looked into his eyes. “I don’t know.” Leaning back into his chair until the two legs hung suspended in the air, he drawled out a response. “I’m right,” he said. She raised a wary brow. “And me?” he asked. A frown had already planted itself on his face. “What do you feel about me?” “I care about you immensely.” That wasn’t the question he’d silently asked. “T’Pol, I mean … which one?” Sawing her food in half, she raised the lettuce to her mouth. “There is no choice.” “He put his feelings out there, you gotta make a choice.” “He did not indicate his feelings.” “The hell he didn’t. The ten stitches in my tongue say he did.” She shook her head and reiterated her words. “There is no choice.” “Why?” Her fork left a tinny clank against her plate. “I would prefer to cover other topics.” He could see she was about to launch into her Vulcanity, when he stopped her. “Look, this is kinda weird to me. I know you two have this way of communicatin’ ….” “Trip.” The tone of her voice wasn’t quite a reprimand, but she didn’t want to answer his question; he was sure of that. “Well, it’s true. His feelings are gonna hang over us, unless I know you care about me more.” “I cannot care about one more than another. He is my friend, as are you.” “Thought we were more than friends?” he asked. He leaned forward until his chair rested against the floor. “We are, however –“ “However?” he asked. She was about to explain more when he interrupted. “Which one of us?” he asked, demandingly. She blinked slowly, folding her hands in her lap and then letting her eyes settle there. “Which one?” he asked again. “I have already stated – there is no decision. I care for both of you differently.” “Sounds like you care for him more.” She was silent, but her eyes focused back on him. For a moment, he thought he could read her feelings: confusion, upset, wonder, panic … they were almost painted onto her eyes. Trip’s mouth drew down and he could feel tears welling up in his eyes. “You do love him don’t you?” “No,” she responded. “Then …?” Furrowing her brow slightly, she shook her head. “There is no choice. Can’t I care about both of you differently?” A drop of water fell down onto his cheek. “I’m not talkin’ about friendship. I’m askin’ … I’m sayin’ I want to be first in your heart, T’Pol.” “Vulcans cannot express feelings –“ “Right. Vulcans …,” he quipped. She furrowed her brow. “Yes, it is what I am.” Standing up, he explained his feelings. “It’s an easy ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question! You either care more about me or you care more about him!” Instead of answering, she stared at him as if in a mild form of shock. “If we’re going to stay together ... have a relationship, I need to know I come first.” Bafflement crossed every feature, which is why he yelled, disagreed and cried more. All the while he shouted why she should be in love with him; they’d even made love – at least to him they had. He’d shared his heart; he’d shared everything with her. Everything. The sad thing is Trip could tell all of the emotions – Jon’s and his – were overwhelming to her. He believed her when she said she “cared” about both of them. But, what she didn’t understand is that it wasn’t enough. “I don’t think I can do this,” he said. Standing up, he threw his napkin onto the table. She blinked. “I believe you are being impulsive. You’re acting rashly.” “There you go again. Impulsive. I am who I am, T’Pol. Human!” He waited as she continued to gaze at him in confusion. “It’s too bad,” he said, shaking his head. With that, he headed out the door.
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