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Reed's Armory -- A Malcolm Reed Fanfiction Archive .. |
Title: Unforeseen
Author: Stexgirl2000
Author's e-mail: [email protected]
Pairing: T'Pol/Reed/Sato
Rating: R (for language, sexual situations)
Category: Het; Romance/Humor/Angst
Summary: What is unforeseen becomes something one cannot live without.
Spoilers: Eh, some for Bounty. Some for season three so far. Otherwise, it's AU.
Comments: Thank you Taryn Eve for beta'ing this story for me. You helped me a great deal with grammar, plot and flow. And hey, your Word spell check is better than the one in Open Office. This is a series of small glimpses into what I think would be a fun "what if..." I'm jumping around at various points in the relationship, so it's more of series of vignettes. At least that's my story and I'm sticking to it. I quote the Beatles here, more specifically, "I Am the Walrus." Thanks Taryn for that suggestion. Oh, and I also paraphrase Armistead Maupin's "Tales of the City" at the end of this story.
Archived to Reed's Armory on 11/15/2003.
Part One: In The Beginning...
If he lived one hundred years, he was sure he'd never fully understand what happened five days ago. If he lived that long. As it was, between the two of them, he was sure he'd die long before his one hundredth birthday.
Shifting his body on the large mattress the Irligo had provided them, Malcolm surveyed the room with his normal attention to detail. Plain and almost ruthlessly Spartan, the walls at least, were an interesting color. A greenish blue with little specks of silver and gold that glittered, and if one looked closer, there were faint traces of other colors. Perhaps the room served as a metaphor for what now had they had: at first glance, very simple, yet upon closer inspection, very, very complex.
Thinking that way began to make his head hurt and Malcolm shunted his thoughts back to the more physical aspects of what happened.
As it was, if the sexual experiences of the last five days were any indication of what he'd have to look forward to, he'd be lucky if he lived to be fifty.
As the two women spooned themselves around his body, Malcolm grinned to himself; it would certainly be a wonderful way to go...
His grin faded. He certainly wouldn't make it to fifty, much less to his next birthday. Most likely Captain Archer, followed by Commander Tucker, would kill him as soon as the three of them stepped back onto the Enterprise and the whole story came out.
Bloody hell, even the most wonderful, mind blowing event that ever happened to him was ready to kick his arse and make his life miserable.
The soft sigh next to him jolted Malcolm out of his thoughts. "Malcolm Reed, stop being so pessimistic."
Malcolm eyed Hoshi with sheepish chagrin. "Sorry love, I didn't mean for my thoughts to leak out."
On his other side, T'Pol stretched rather sensuously, which despite the events of the past week, still unnerved him a bit. "There is no need for you to apologize, Malcolm. Your mental barriers are still new, as are Hoshi's. It takes time and practice to control them adequately," she said.
Propping herself up, T'Pol raised an eyebrow at him and he felt her inner amusement at his embarrassment. "Both you and Hoshi have the mental discipline to learn to maintain your shields with little effort. However, neither of you should expect, as you would say, "miracles overnight." In a few months, lapses like this will be a rare occurrence."
Hoshi smiled and entwined her hands with both his and T'Pol's. "And as for Captain Archer and Commander Tucker, they won't kill you. They might envy you and be incredibly jealous of you, but they won't kill you, Malcolm. After all, none of us expected this to happen. You didn't cause this to occur, so stop letting your fears overwhelm you. Accept this." Hoshi snuggled closer to him, a content smile on her face.
Malcolm shook his head at her words. When T'Pol's pon farr came upon her, Hoshi was the one who accepted the situation calmly and with a degree of enthusiasm that had surprised him. He never would have dreamed that Hoshi was such a sexual, sensual person. In fantasizing about T'Pol, he'd cut himself off from looking at Hoshi, much less any woman on the Enterprise, as a whole person. Now he was blessed with a mental connection that forced him to look at not only Hoshi, but T'Pol and himself as well, with an honesty that was difficult.
To say that it was all rather overwhelming was an understatement.
Brushing his lips against both of their hands, Malcolm let out a long breath. For a moment his insecurities and fears surged through their newly formed bond but T'Pol's calm touch smoothed out his emotions. Following her thoughts, Malcolm was able to regain control. "It's just a bit much, all of this. It's like all of my fantasies and fears have been dumped into my lap, although, for the most part, it's an embarrassment of riches..." He trailed off as some of his more lewd thoughts got the better of him.
Mentally, Hoshi's laughter was like music. "Oooh, now that seems very interesting, Malcolm..."
He could feel the heady sexual heat of T'Pol's still on-going pon farr rising through their mind link. "I would like to see if such a thing is possible, my ashias..."
With a growl, Malcolm pulled T'Pol upward while Hoshi's mouth ventured southward. He let himself fall into the warmth of Hoshi and the heat of T'Pol; the softness of their skin, the citrus scent of Hoshi's hair and the spicy scent of T'Pol overwhelming his senses. As they began to explore one another, the sexual sensations began to feed into another incredible, mind-blowing loop. He felt their minds snap together and suddenly he wasn't sure where he, T'Pol and Hoshi began or ended.
And he didn't know again until their orgasms subsided and his lovers, his bondmates, were fast asleep. As sleep began to wash over him, Malcolm wondered if it mattered, where the dividing lines were between himself, Hoshi, and T'Pol actually were. A song lyric, an old one, that his Uncle Archie used to play a lot, popped into his head. "I am he as she is me and we are all together..."
"I am the walrus..." he murmured.
Sleep finally overtook Malcolm and he dreamed of a blood red sun hovering over Mount Fuji.
Part Two: Everything Changes
Chang, Henderson, and Chavez were all silent as they sat in the shuttlepod. Hoshi didn't blame them--three weeks of recuperating on an alien world while waiting for the Enterprise to return hadn't been a picnic for the three men. While the Irligo medical facilities were decent, it wasn't the same as having Phlox taking care of them. Henderson's legs were still in casts, Chavez was still recovering from his internal injuries, as was Chang.
Malcolm had suffered from some burns, bruised ribs, and several deep cuts, but T'Pol and Hoshi only received concussions. Though once T'Pol's pon farr manifested itself, all thoughts of pain had flown out the window. Hoshi stifled the urge to laugh; the intense sexual sensations from pon farr made everything fly out the window.
Looking at the three men, Hoshi wondered how much they knew or guessed. Not that she'd ask them.
From their body language over the past week, Hoshi surmised that the three MACO's knew that something else had happened to the rest of the recon party, but apparently decided not to ask.
Which was fine with Hoshi. Although, it made things between the six of them a bit strained at times.
Chang, at one point before the mission, was beginning to subtly court Hoshi. She liked the consideration and attention the corporal showed her. He always complimented her appearance and sought out her company when off duty. The attention was a nice change and one bright spot for her as their mission to find the Xindi continued.
Now everything was different. With T'Pol and Malcolm she had this incredible link with them that was both overwhelming and beautiful. She was alone and yet never alone-a part of both of them and yet separate.
The bond let her know how much Malcolm buried his attraction to her in the name of duty. It let her know how much T'Pol respected her and valued her contributions to the Enterprise. She now knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Malcolm treasured their friendship. Through their link she'd learned how for so long T'Pol wanted to be friends with her but was never quite sure she knew the correct way to go about it.
Those were the good parts to their mental joining.
The drawbacks were ones she couldn't have conceived. Like the utter alienness of T'Pol's deepest thought processes. Or how Malcolm could so easily dive into self-loathing and self-hatred. Or on the flip side, the ease to which her own insecurities could be grating.
Over the course of the month, between sessions of incredible sex, T'Pol taught her and Malcolm to erect mental shields and to maintain them. The process was a slow one; it didn't happen overnight. Only now was Hoshi feeling like she could maintain her mental shields without overt conscious thought. Malcolm, much to his surprise, was better at it than he'd first thought. In the end, it took him two weeks to master maintaining his shields.
Hoshi reached out to T'Pol and Malcolm. Malcolm was piloting the shuttlepod back to the Enterprise, while T'Pol was monitoring Chavez. "The two of you never did answer my question from last night."
Hoshi felt T'Pol's inner amusement and Malcolm's mental laughter. "Which one, love?" pathed back Malcolm.
"The one about setting up a schedule to be together," replied Hoshi. After much discussion, they all agreed that for now, they'd see if they could handle keeping their own quarters. T'Pol related that many bonded Vulcans could go for years without seeing their bondmate, while others found it to be difficult and tended not to roam very far from each other. It took a bit of trial and error for bondmates to figure out what worked for them. So they agreed to wait and see what it was that they needed.
Further more, it would make introducing the idea of their being bondmates to the rest of the crew a bit easier.
Hoshi had no illusions; it was going to freak most people out. But she found that she didn't care. The deep intimacy of their joined minds assured her that she'd never be alone. Something she'd always feared, yet embraced, keeping to the patterns set since she was a child.
T'Pol's wry mental tone cut off her musings. "I believe that rotating between one another's quarters two nights a week will fulfill the sexual needs we share. If we deem it inadequate, we can always increase our quota of sexual encounters per week."
Malcolm and Hoshi shared a mental chuckle at the image T'Pol sent them of a checklist on a padd. She really did have a very dry sense of humor and it delighted them both.
That was one thing that Hoshi and Malcolm were enjoying--that they could feel and hear T'Pol's inner reactions. Vulcans might not show emotions, but they had them. They were hundreds of times more intense than human emotions, but they were there. Their mental bond made them both appreciate her control. T'Pol's emotions were muted, but still burned intently.
It reminded Hoshi of the time she'd visited Volcano National Park on the Big Island in Hawaii. She and some friends hiked across a relatively old lava flow. At one point she'd felt the top layer crack and heat began to seep through. She couldn't see the still cooling lava underneath, but the loss of that one layer reminded her that she was on top of a still flowing river of heated rock.
The comm system crackled to life and the cheery voice of Travis came through. "Enterprise to Shuttlepod One, welcome back."
Malcolm calmly answered, "Shuttlepod One to Enterprise, it's good to be back."
With in minutes, they were docked in the shuttle bay. Phlox, Liz Cutler and a few crewmen were there in contamination suits to help the three injured MACO's into decon. T'Pol, Malcolm and Hoshi followed as Phlox gave them a quick scan. Phlox frowned for an instant, his features morphing into what Hoshi deemed as his professional smile. "Well, all six of you do have one minor microbe that will only need about twenty minutes of decontamination time. Sit back and enjoy the warmth everyone. This won't take very long."
It didn't take long for all of them to strip down to their blues. After helping the MACO's settle down on the other bench, Hoshi and T'Pol sat on either side of Malcolm. It reminded her of their first time in decon together, after the incident on the Klingon ship in the nebula. As she closed her eyes, T'Pol sent her memories of that time to them. Malcolm then shared his and Hoshi sent hers. The three sets of memories melded together and Hoshi was reminded of the movie "Rashomon."
"I always liked that movie too," pathed Malcolm. "Shifting points of view of one event. Rather fascinating."
Before she could explain more to T'Pol about the movie, Phlox's cheery tone came into the room. "That's it, you are all clear. Chang, Chavez, and Henderson, we'll get you out first and settled."
"About time," muttered Chavez.
Chang shrugged. "We can't infect the rest of crew. Rules are rules." He struggled to get up and Malcolm went over to help him. "Thanks, Lieutenant Reed."
"You're welcome, Corporal Chang." Chang looked over at Hoshi and she knew that he was going to ask her to have dinner with him while he was in sickbay.
Before he could say anything, Liz and the crewmen returned, this time without their quarantine suits. As quickly as they could, they started moving the injured MACO's out of decon. Phlox came in and said, "Liz, start the snow beetles on our three patients. I need to speak with the other members of the away team." He waited until the door to sickbay was closed. Phlox gave them a look that Hoshi could only label as both perplexed and intrigued.
"Lieutenant, Ensign, T'Pol, I am getting some very interesting reading from all three you. Particularly in the sub-cortex's of your brains and in some of your hormone levels. Especially you, T'Pol. The last time I saw readings that were similar in you was the time when...well, during your illness when Captain Archer was held by that bounty hunter." Phlox held their eyes and waited.
T'Pol's reticence was clear in their minds. She was sharing it with them and Hoshi was touched by the trust shown. Four weeks and she trusted them enough to show her misgivings.
T'Pol's voice held its usual, emotionless cadence. "My pon farr came upon me while we were recuperating on Irligo. The Irligan doctor put the three of us into quarantine together and under the circumstances we bonded together."
Hoshi felt herself reach for T'Pol's hand and saw that Malcolm was doing the same. Phlox stood there for a long moment, blinking in stupefaction. She ticked off three seconds before his face broke into a wide smile. "Well, let me be the first to offer my congratulations to the three of you. You are sharing something, I dare say, is very unique and rare."
Malcolm's relief at the doctor's words shot through their bond. Phlox's cheery voice went on. "Actually, I think this is the first case of such a thing happening. Because of that, I would like to get some new baseline readings of your brainwaves and cortical functions, as the mental bonding will effect those areas. However, I think it can wait for a day or two, for now. I want you all to have a full day's recovery here on the ship. And rest assured, I will hold what you have told me in confidence."
"Thank you, Doctor," said Malcolm. "We appreciate your discretion."
"It means a lot to us," added Hoshi. Phlox's eyes held hers and she saw the warmth and regard he always gave her in them.
Phlox's expression became serious. "When this comes out, it may be difficult for the three of you. I want you to know that no matter what, you'll have my full support. Not just as your doctor, but as your friend and peer. Remember, all of you can come to talk to me either singly or together. Now, I need to go and check on the MACO's. You are all free to leave sickbay." He left them alone.
For a moment they stood there, holding hands. Hoshi turned to T'Pol and kissed her, then Malcolm. "We can do this. We will get through the rest of what we have to do."
T'Pol held up her hands, two fingers extended and Malcolm matched the gesture on hand, Hoshi on the other. "We have no other option but to get through the rest of what awaits us."
Malcolm smiled as he said slyly, "Anything else would be illogical, correct? Worry is illogical. We just have deal with what is, not with what could have been or was. Although, I have some ideas as to what we can do in the future..."
Hoshi felt one eyebrow go up. "Malcolm Reed, now is not the time to be a smart ass." She giggled, Malcolm chortled and T'Pol closed her eyes.
"Perhaps I should have tried harder to break out of the Irligo quarantine room after all," she said in a dry tone. Through their bond, T'Pol sent her amusement and Hoshi sent back her conviction that no matter what, they were together and they would make through whatever faced them.
T'Pol entered the bridge with her ashias, her bondmates, behind her. Malcolm's thoughts were nervous. He was very worried about the reactions of Captain Archer and Commander Tucker. Hoshi's thoughts were serene. She had faith that their bond would sustain them, and besides, what was done is done, so why worry over what couldn't be changed.
As for herself, T'Pol paused and searched for the correct words...she was perturbed and worried. Not that she was letting Malcolm or Hoshi know. She couldn't let them know. It might destroy the relationship they were building between each other. T'Pol knew that one day she would share this with them, but not today.
Logic told her that Jonathan Archer was first and foremost her friend. He trusted her. The tenuous attraction that she knew he had for her would never be brought up. Common sense told her that he would be disappointed, upset, but ultimately, he would remain her friend.
So her reasoning went. Yet, she could not help but wonder if her conclusions were solid or if they were fueled by her need to have Jonathan Archer remain her friend. She'd given up so much to remain by his side and she wondered if he really appreciated what she'd done last year. She suspected that he thought she did it out of love for him, instead of loyalty due to their friendship.
Jonathan Archer's expression was one of relief as he saw them. Commander Tucker was down in engineering and deep down T'Pol was very glad of that. She was not ready to analyze the many facets of her relationship with Tucker and how her joining with Malcolm and Hoshi irreversibly changed everything.
Due to her nerve pressure sessions with him, the slivers of attraction she felt towards him during the Enterprise's first year had resurfaced. She'd barely had time to work through the implications when her pon farr occurred. Although there was a part of her that wondered if the sessions somehow acted as temporary relief to the beginning stages of pon farr. If so, it would reasonably explain her reaction to him.
When all was said and done, T'Pol had to admit the situation was one could have never foreseen. Nothing in her experience would have made her guess that she would bond with Malcolm Reed or Hoshi Sato, much less both of them.
Or that bonding with them would make so much sense to her, would resonate so well and feel so correct...so logical.
"T'Pol, Malcolm, Hoshi, it's good to have you all back, safe and sound and in one piece," said Archer. He smiled at them and gave Hoshi and Malcolm small pats on the back. Turning to her, he looked into her eyes. T'Pol read the relief there and something else. She marshaled her strength; to put things off would not be logical.
"Captain, it is good to be back. Lieutenant Reed, Ensign Sato and I have several things to report to you."
Archer nodded and started towards his ready room. "All right, let's start with a preliminary report. Travis, you have the bridge."
She took in Travis' "Aye, sir," and the nods and smiles of the other bridge crew members as she followed Archer. She could feel Malcolm and Hoshi following behind her. Opening her shields, she felt Malcolm's resolve harden and Hoshi's latent trepidation poke through. Before she could reach out to the other woman, she felt Hoshi begin to chant in Vulcan to calm herself and then switch to Japanese.
Standing in Archer's ready room, T'Pol faced the man she had come to view as her friend and let go of her fear. As Surak once said, "The past cannot be changed, but the future depends on our ability to let go of fear and embrace the now."
Sitting on the edge of his desk, Archer asked, "So, did you find any traces of the Xindi there?"
"No sir, we did not," answered Malcolm. "We did run into some Orions and the resulting firefight caused the injuries that the party suffered. We were out gunned, but luckily for us the Irligo came to our rescue."
Archer nodded and pursed his lips. "Orions, hmm? Did you find out why they're here in the Expanse?"
T'Pol looked at Malcolm and Hoshi. "No Captain, we did not. The Irligo killed the surviving attackers before we could question them. However we were able to access quite a bit of data from the Orion's computers."
"It was encrypted, Captain, but I'm sure I can break their codes and have everything translated in a few days," added Hoshi.
"Otherwise sir, we didn't find out much about the Xindi," concluded Malcolm.
"Damn," muttered Archer. "Well, I'll read the rest in your reports. Was there anything else?"
T'Pol held his eyes with hers. "Yes, there is, Captain Archer."
Hoshi stepped forward. "It's of a personal nature, sir."
Malcolm nodded in agreement. "And it's rather complicated."
Archer looked at the three of them, surprise and curiosity clearly written on his face. "I take it has to do with all three of you?"
"Yes." T'Pol took a calming, meditative breath. "Captain, do you remember my report about my illness during the time you were kidnapped by the Tellerite bounty hunter?"
Frowning, Archer nodded slowly. "Yes, I do. At the time you and Phlox said it was a reaction to a microbe that you picked up on the planet we were surveying. You said it made you act irrationally, but that was all. Why? Did something similar happen on Irligo?"
"In a way. Last year, the microbe that I encountered triggered an early onset of my pon farr, my mating cycle. It causes sever changes a Vulcan's limbic system and causes our normal body temperatures to spike dangerously. While we were on Irligo, I believe a similar microbe was present and once again my mating cycle occurred. I had to mate, or...die."
The expression on Archer's face was one where utter shock was quickly masked by impassive calm. Crossing his arms, he shifted so he was sitting in a more solid position on the desk. "You would have died if you had not..."
"Mated," finished T'Pol, looking Archer squarely in the eyes.
His green eyes were stormy and Malcolm's nervousness escaped through his shields. T'Pol felt Hoshi shore up Malcolm's mental control and offer her support.
Archer's eyes flicked to Malcolm and his mouth hardened. "So what you're trying to tell me is that you...you...mated with Malcolm?"
Hoshi stepped forward and took T'Pol's hand and then Malcolm's. "Not...not exactly, sir."
Archer blinked and very slowly uncrossed his arms so as to grip the desk. "Perhaps one of you would like to clarify that remark?" T'Pol noted that his voice was even, but a thread of anger rode his words.
"Sir, after we were all hurt, the Irligo who helped us took us back to their village. They put the MACO's in their main healer's suite, but they put T'Pol, Hoshi and I in a quarantine room," began Malcolm.
"The three of you together?" interrupted Archer. T'Pol felt Malcolm's nervousness returning and she sent a caressing thought across their bond. Over the past month she'd found that Malcolm was quite responsive to reassurance in such a manner.
"Yes, Jon," said Hoshi. She let go of their hands and went stand closer to her friend. "They put us in there and T'Pol started to go into her pon farr. Malcolm and I were restraining her, keeping her from trying to tear out the inner door, when it happened."
"When what happened?" Archer's voice was now oozing frustration and deep in her mind T'Pol wondered if they should have waited longer before telling him.
"No," came Malcolm's mental voice, "it wouldn't have done us any good by waiting. Best get the rest over with."
Malcolm held Archer's gaze as he replied, "T'Pol's instinct was to mentally reach out to a potential mate. As Hoshi and I were both touching her at the same time, we both clicked with her telepathically and we both..." He paused, blushing furiously, "We both mated with T'Pol. Both Hoshi and I became T'Pol's bondmates."
As the silence gathered around them, T'Pol finally understood the human axiom of "tension so thick you could cut it with a knife." Archer sat there, blinking at the three of them, lips tightly compressed. After a few more seconds, he blurted out, "You've got to be kidding."
Hoshi took a step backwards and T'Pol grasped her hand and Malcolm's once more. Archer took a look at three of them holding hands and let out a long breath. "You're not kidding. Holy...I mean...Oh..." He slumped a bit and amusement, mixed with anger and hurt, lit his features. "I'm not sure if I should laugh, cry, or curse. I'm not sure what the hell to think or say."
Hoshi shrugged, a mischievous smile gracing her lips. "If it's any help, sir, at times, neither do we."
"There wasn't anything you two could do," said Archer, his flat tone making what he said more of a statement than a question.
"We couldn't let T'Pol die, sir," said Malcolm, his voice firm. "It was our choice to continue."
Getting up from his desk, Archer went to the window and looked out. With his back still towards them, he shook his head. "I suppose you can't break this mental bond, can you?"
T'Pol opened her mind to Hoshi and Malcolm, letting their comfort, their fierce desire for her and each other flow over her. "On Vulcan, with the help of a healer or Kohlinar master, mating bonds have been broken, but it is a difficult and dangerous process. However, that is done only when the parties wish for it to be broken. We have discussed the situation and agree that we do not wish for such a thing to be done."
Archer's shoulders tightened and his spine stiffened. A barely imperceptible shudder ran through him, then his entire body relaxed. Turning back to them, his face was composed, but his eyes were stormy. "This will not affect your duties, will it?"
From the corner of her eye, T'Pol saw Malcolm and Hoshi exchanged a glance and she could feel their mix of disappointment and sad relief. "No, sir," said Hoshi. "It will not."
"For now, sir, we would like to keep our quarters separate and we will be very discreet," added Malcolm.
Archer nodded and crossed his arms once more. "Since the three of you came straight from sickbay, I assume you've told Phlox?"
"As he is our doctor, it would be illogical not to tell him, as our mental connection does affect certain areas of our brains. It is best that he understands and monitors the neurological impact of our bond," answered T'Pol. He was upset, she could tell, but how much so, she could not accurately judge. Malcolm's and Hoshi's thoughts were muted, both of them waiting for Archer to be more harsh.
"I see." Archer stared at spot above their heads and didn't say anything more for a few minutes. Finally, he took a deep breath. "I can't say that I'm happy to hear about this. When we're finally finished with this mission, I have no goddamn clue as to what Starfleet, let alone the Vulcan High Command is going to say about this. And don't tell me it's none of their business, because it's definitely Starfleet's and thus it will become the Vulcan government's. For now, just keep all of this under wraps. Don't tell anyone else for now. Dismissed."
Malcolm and Hoshi's "Aye, sir," echoed the room and they both turned to leave. T'Pol hesitated, for the desire for him to understand surged within her.
Archer's eyes locked with hers and T'Pol saw what she illogically hoped not to see: betrayal and hurt. "Dismissed, T'Pol."
Inclining her head in acknowledgment, T'Pol followed Malcolm and Hoshi out.
Even with her two ashias sending her their love, she found it wasn't helping. T'Pol held back bitter disillusionment behind her strongest shields; she had hoped that Jonathan Archer would have grown enough to understand.
Part Three: A Solitary Man
Sprawled on the floor, Malcolm stared at the ceiling of his quarters, wondering if the universe possessed a sense of humor. He was beginning to think it did and it was a twisted one.
Tonight was their three-month anniversary of being bondmates and they were all on different shifts.
Bloody Captain Archer; he'd been a total bastard to them. Cool, distant, and shunting them to different shifts in what Malcolm had come to see as an attempt to strain their bond, the Captain still managed to keep everything... professional.
You wanted him to be more like the commanding officers you had in the past. Reed, you arse, you got what you wished for. Well, bugger that.
Before Irligo, he was used to being alone, to being solitary. Oh, he'd managed to forge a very close friendship with Trip Tucker, but after the Xindi attack, Trip's withdrawal and anger had cooled things between them. So he'd gone back to being more or less alone, although Hoshi and Travis maintained their friendships with him.
Now he was dealing with T'Pol and Hoshi in his head twenty-four hours a day, and it was unsettling at times.
No, to be honest with himself, it was strange, having a mental connection that laid bare all of one's faults, fears, weaknesses to another being. T'Pol would remind him from time to time that it also highlighted one's strengths, commitment, and respect. Or, as Hoshi would say in a teasing tone, the good parts besides the ones that gave them orgasms.
Part of him once yearned for a connection to someone beyond sex. Beyond the physical release. He'd racked up a string of failed relationships before coming to the Enterprise and they were all due to the fact that he was afraid of going further than a good time in bed. A slap and a tickle were all he'd looked for. It made sense; intimacy was not something he'd grown up with in any shape, form or fashion. He'd never had a good role model and didn't really look to improve himself in that area.
Irligo changed all of that forever.
Getting up from his spot on the floor, Malcolm went into the shower. They'd be arriving soon and he wanted to clean up from his workout. T'Pol's sense of smell was sensitive and Hoshi never did like sweaty men. He wanted to please them and they wouldn't have that much time together. Tonight was about physical release and intimacy.
As the water cascaded down his body, Malcolm put his forehead against the cool tile. He didn't dislike the intensity of their mental link, it just unnerved him sometimes. He'd wake up from a nightmare about drowning and T'Pol's thoughts would be comforting him, chanting with him. He'd get frustrated as once more, Captain Archer would charge ahead, consequences be damned as he looked for the Xindi, and Hoshi would be there, feeding him curses in languages he'd never heard of before. It also helped him calm down and focus.
There were times, behind the deepest recesses of his mental barriers, that he wondered what it was they got from him. Hoshi said it was loyalty, love, fierce devotion. T'Pol said it was logic, calm, determination. He believed them, but it was still hard for him to accept. It felt...immodest.
Malcolm knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he loved them both. He realized it a few days ago, after nearly getting killed on what should have been a routine mission to check out a lead on the Xindi. They'd gotten into a firefight with some Xindi Insectoids and the weapon modifications he'd worked on for months saved their arses. As they went back to the Enterprise, he knew that he would have gladly died if it protected Hoshi and T'Pol. Not the crew, not his captain, but his ashias, his beloved ones. They were first in his mind.
For a Reed, that was the clearest sign of love; duty trumped by passion. He could die doing his duty but he wanted to live to be with the women he loved.
Thinking about it, he also realized that the three of them were bound together by more than just the after effects of the pon farr. Each of them were solitary figures in one way or another. They all built walls between themselves and the rest of the crew and the walls were old ones, pre-dating their time on the Enterprise.
Hoshi's childhood and youth was one of studying languages with tutor after tutor, cut off from people her own age, from her own family, until loneliness was a second skin to her. T'Pol's curiosity cut her off from her own people time and time again. Her drive to experience more than what was deemed logical by her people led her to be the only Vulcan on a ship full of humans, and that only served to underscore her differences. As for himself, he never felt comfortable around anyone unless it was connected to work, and even then it took a lot for him to push through his fear of connection.
They all were wary of connection, yet they all craved it, and now they had it in spades.
Stepping out of the shower, he toweled off and dressed in a loose shirt and jeans. Surveying his quarters, he smiled sardonically. Everything in its right place. Nothing that would suggest that his life had been turned upside down three months ago.
No, he sighed, that's not true. On his nightstand was a book on Surak that T'Pol gave him last month. On his bulletin board there were poems in French and Andorian that Hoshi gave him. On his desk sat a small picture of the three of them together, taken by Trip two years ago. It was the three of them on the bridge and was part of whole slew of pictures that Trip asked his opinion about, a lifetime ago. Malcolm never erased them off of his computer and last month he'd printed it out and framed it. He found looking at it comforted him. He only took it out of his desk drawer when he was alone.
The door chimed and slid open. Hoshi came in, wearing the blue dress he liked so much. Without a word she held out her hand as the door slid shut behind her. Touching fingers in the Vulcan fashion, they smiled at each other.
The door opened again and T'Pol came in, wearing her blue catsuit. She raised an eyebrow and held up her hands. They made a circle, fingers touching and Malcolm dropped his shields, letting his feelings flow freely.
"I love you both..." he pathed.
"As do I," came the dual reply.
They moved together, exchanging kisses as they divested each other of their clothing. Malcolm sent out his love and concentrated on showing them how much he adored them both.
Part Four: To Tell the Truth
T'Pol lit her candle, fluffed her meditation cushions, and checked her quarters for any odd signs that Malcolm and Hoshi were here the night before. Sniffing the room, she could not detect the scents of her two partners. Checking under the bed, T'Pol breathed a sigh of relief-there was no sign of any stray articles of clothing. Satisfied, she sat down on her bed. Everything was ready for Commander Tucker's neuropressure session.
Picking up her padd, T'Pol reviewed the nodes she would be working on tonight. Tucker's nightmares were fading and his sleep patterns were stabilizing, but he still need several more months of treatment. Which meant longer sessions and more visits. The thought triggered a moment of unsuppressed emotion. She was tired of doing neuropressure with Tucker.
Not because of Tucker personally, but because it took away from her time with Malcolm and Hoshi. After five months they were encountering a time of transitional difficulty. Normal and not unexpected, but they needed the extra time together to meditate and work on their mental shields. There were mental exercises that Vulcan bondmates did with each other and T'Pol was able to translate some of them into concepts her human partners could understand. She wished she could just come out and tell Commander Tucker why she needed to cut back on their sessions for a while. T'Pol's lips thinned, unfortunately, that was not an option.
Not for the first time, she wished that Captain Archer would rethink his order about keeping her relationship with Malcolm and Hoshi a secret. The more time went on, the more she felt like she was going down a very slippery slope. That by avoiding saying the truth she was skimming the edge of pure lying. The longer it went on, the more she knew that silence would not suffice.
In her mind the correct thing to do would be to let the rest of the crew know. Yes, there would be discomfort and consequences for revealing what happened on Irligo, but in the long run, she was sure things would settle out in a calm manner. Humans were more flexible than they gave themselves credit for.
Jonathan Archer himself was showing more signs of accepting what happened to her, Malcolm and Hoshi. He wasn't as distant to the three of them as he was right after they told him about her pon farr. At the end of last week he put them on the same duty shift for the next ten days. It was the first time in five months.
He was also coming by once again to talk to her in the evenings, albeit he was scrupulous about checking with her to see if it was all right. He even made a small joke about not wanting to walk in on something he'd rather not see. Relating the remark to Malcolm and Hoshi, the two of them laughed nervously. Neither liked the idea of someone catching them in an intimate moment, not even in jest.
Her door buzzed and T'Pol put down her padd. It was Tucker, on time. He'd been very punctual lately. "Come in."
Tucker walked in, clad in his sweats, holding a plant in his hands. "Hey there, T'Pol. I brought you this. It's an..."
"Orchid. Yes, I recognize it. You did not have to bring this to me, Commander Tucker." T'Pol repressed the unease that rippled through her. First peaches, then a data card of music, followed a disk of movies and now a plant. What was going on?
"I just wanted to thank you for everything you're doing for me, T'Pol. You're a very special person and I just wanted to give you something to show my appreciation, that's all. Now, where should I put this?"
Tucker smiled at her and T'Pol pointed to a shelf. As he turned to put it down, lowered her shields to reach out through bond link. She was feeling disquieted by words. From what she understood about human courting rituals, the words "special person" could be a sign of interest beyond friendship. Was she reading too much into what he was saying? Her ashias would know. "Hoshi, Malcolm, Commander Tucker has brought me another gift." She watched as Tucker sat down, pulled off his shoes and removed his shirt before kneeling on the meditation cushion.
Joining him, T'Pol said, "Being breathing like last time, commander."
In her mind, Hoshi's response came through first. "He did? What did he say?"
"That I am a special person and he wants to show his appreciation for what I'm doing for him." T'Pol matched her breathing to Tucker's and before she closed her eyes, she noted that his eyes were still open and fixed on her face. Did he do that every time they started with the V'ulnia breathing? She shut her eyes and concentrated.
"A special person? Oh, blast. Trip is falling for you, T'Pol," came the concerned mental touch of Malcolm.
"Trip could be just doing what he says he is, being appreciative. In the culture he grew up in, bring gifts to a friend when they help you is the norm. In fact, if you visit someone's home, it's traditional to bring a gift to one's host or hostess," countered Hoshi. "Trip did that once for me when I helped him go over some UT upgrade specs, and Malcolm, didn't you say that Trip gave you a bottle of scotch as a thank you for some work you did with him in engineering on your off time?"
"True. But it's the fourth gift he's brought her. Wouldn't one suffice?" Malcolm's voice held a small note of petulance now.
"I am sorry if I have unnerved you both," sent T'Pol. "We should talk of this later, after Commander Tucker has left. I must focus my attention on the task at hand."
Opening her eyes, T'Pol let a slim thread of relief go through her: Tucker's eyes were closed. Getting up, she moved to kneel behind him and said quietly, "I am going to press your upper nodes, then move lower."
Tucker didn't move. "All right. I'm ready," he said, his voice a bit breathless.
The rest of the session went as usual. As Tucker shrugged into his sweatshirt, he cocked his head sideways, as if it would help him view her better. "Hey, T'Pol, I was wonderin', are you coming to movie night this week? We're showing an "An American in Paris" this time."
T'Pol put the meditation cushions aside. "I am going," she replied. The disquiet she'd felt earlier returned. Was he going to ask her out on a "date"?
"I thought we might go together. After havin' dinner with the Cap'n, of course." Tucker's voice held a bit eagerness. Her disquiet blossomed in full unease and she felt Malcolm and Hoshi both reach out to her in reassurance. T'Pol was surprised, she didn't realize that she had lowered her barriers to the bond.
For a second, she thought of telling Tucker that she all ready agreed to go with Captain Archer, knowing that if she asked him to cover for her, he would. The idea was banished in a flash: Vulcans do not lie...
She swallowed and told the truth, even though she was certain what would happen next. "I have agreed to go with Ensign Sato, as she told me about it today at lunch. It is one of her favorite movies."
Tucker grinned. "Hey, then I can join y'all, if you don't mind. It's one of my momma's favorites and I grew up watchin' it..." He trailed off and T'Pol knew he was thinking of his lost sister.
"If it is agreeable to Ensign Sato, then it will be agreeable to me," said T'Pol. She heard Hoshi's mental snort and Malcolm's groan. "Perhaps you might see if Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Mayweather also plan to attend."
"Great," said Tucker, regaining some of his enthusiasm. "It's a date then. See you tomorrow, T'Pol."
He smiled and left. When the door shut behind him, T'Pol sank down onto her bed. "I apologize to you both. I should not have passed on my dilemma to you, Hoshi or drawn you into this, Malcolm."
Their minds caressed hers with love. "It's all right," sent Malcolm. "It was the right thing to do under the circumstance. You did tell him the truth, after all."
"Yes," whispered T'Pol. "Just not all of the truth. Just not all."
Part Five: Not As Careful As One Might Think.
Hoshi sat in the messhall, her mind following two different mental conversations at once as she ate her dinner. From Malcolm she followed his conversation with Major Hayes and Lieutenant Henderson as the three men finished their discussion the newest modifications to the phase rifles. From T'Pol she listened to her conversation with Phlox about the physiology of the Xindi Sloth corpse that they'd found in the wreckage of ship the Enterprise came across on airless moon three days ago.
As the conversations went into more detailed areas, Hoshi put up her mental shields and let her thoughts meander. Absently she nodded to various crewmates as they passed by her table. Looking down at her plate, Hoshi sighed. Tonight they were supposed to spend some time together. No, she corrected, tonight they were to spend some physical time with each other. Something that happened far less often than she liked.
Hoshi felt T'Pol's reassurance that they would be together later in the evening. It was followed by Malcolm's mental caress and she knew that he would be joining her shortly. At least this month the three of them were on the same shift, and not just when an emergency or a hot lead on the Xindi came up.
Seven months of being bonded together was exhilarating, exhausting, frustrating, yet ultimately fulfilling. Exhausting because the three of them worked very hard to keep the change in their relationship a secret from the rest of the crew. They used various excuses to spend time together, some of which worked and some of which backfired on them.
The first excuse they'd used was saying that T'Pol was teaching them Vulcan meditation for stress management. Which, for part of the time, was true, she did really teach them. Their mental connection quickly allowed Malcolm and Hoshi to grasp the technique and both now meditated regularly. But the end result from their bond left them more time for the more sexual side of their relationship.
To Malcolm's delight and Hoshi's amusement, they found that a Vulcan's sexual temperament could match that of their bondmates. While the biologically driven mating urge of pon farr was every seven years, that didn't mean that Vulcans couldn't have sex during the in between years-they did-they just didn't advertise the fact.
T'Pol found that denying the sexual needs of her two bondmates would not be logical. While she didn't initiate their sexual encounters very often, she did enjoy them. She did not have any body issues or sexual hang-ups; those would not be logical. Instead, she allowed her two human partners to start sex and experiment with what was pleasurable for all three of them.
Not that it was all sex. Most nights they just needed to be with each other. To lean on one another, touch one another as they worked on reports, read books, watched vids, or even played chess. Companionship, nothing more or less.
The meditation sessions didn't raise any suspicions, which was good. However, after two months, other crew members became intrigued with the idea that Vulcan meditation could help with stress and T'Pol was now teaching meditation classes twice a week. In between shifts and the rare meal together, it took them two weeks to come up with another cover for their getting together on a regular basis.
Malcolm figured that working on the Xindi database would be a good excuse: Hoshi translating while he and T'Pol went through scientific and weapons related information. Since it was such a large task, spending their off hours together working on it would not raise any eyebrows.
It didn't even raise Captain Archer's hackles, which was good. After about three months he'd come around and T'Pol was pleased that their friendship was continuing on as if nothing had happened.
As was Hoshi. Her own estrangement from Jonathan Archer hurt. He was in some ways like an older brother to her. To not be able to joke or tease with him or feel his approval cut her deeply.
The database cover lasted about three weeks until Trip Tucker started coming over to help. The first time he did so, the three of them had only minutes before stopped their work. Hoshi had decided that she was really horny and begun to stroke T'Pol and Malcolm, when Tucker rang Malcolm's door. A brief scramble and they'd let him in, Trip not noticing anything out of the ordinary. The rest of the night all three simmered with repressed frustration. Tucker left around 0200 and Malcolm needed to go to sleep, as he was on Alpha shift.
Every night after that, Tucker joined them, except when he needed his neuropressure session with T'Pol or if outside circumstances kept them all busy.
T'Pol urged Malcolm and Hoshi to release their sexual frustration without her there, but that idea was quickly nixed. She and Malcolm agreed; it just didn't feel right to have sex without T'Pol there with them. T'Pol thought they were being illogical, as she was always with them, through their bond.
Instead of trying to force the issue, T'Pol accepted their wishes and in some ways the three of them became very good a finding quick moments together. Warmth pooled deep in Hoshi's stomach, traveling lower as she recalled the last time: in T'Pol's quarters, after Trip left from his neuropressure session.
She and Malcolm finished their workout in the gym and joined T'Pol in the shower. Malcolm was very skilled with his hands as he'd soaped them down. While T'Pol's mouth was hotter than the water that beat down upon them...
"Hey, Hoshi, you want some company?" Hoshi looked up at the smiling face of Travis and she nodded mutely.
Sitting down, Travis eyed her hardly touched dinner. "You've barely eaten your dinner and you looked like you were lost in thought. Light-years away from here? What were you thinking about?"
Not able to meet her friend's eye, Hoshi gave a small shrug. "Nothing important. So, are you on your dinner break?"
Digging into his pasta, Travis nodded. "Yep. Gamma shift is kind fun these days, not quite the dead of night, but not quite early evening either. So far, it's been pretty quiet."
"Now that T'Pol's mapped out the sphere's positions, we haven't been running into too many anomalies, so that must be making things easier for you," commented Hoshi. She felt Malcolm's mind touch hers and heard him gently chide T'Pol for not taking a break and getting some food.
Travis took a sip of his drink and made a wry face. "Sort of. I have to keep a close eye on our course corrections, to make sure we don't deviate into one of those distortion eddies. So, what are you so happy about?"
Startled, Hoshi put down her fork. "What? What do you mean?"
Travis grinned. "For awhile now I've noticed that you get this little Mona Lisa smile on your face from time to time. Sometimes on the bridge, sometimes when you're sitting here in the messhall, sometimes in the gym...hell, even at movie night. So, who's gotten you to smile like that?
"Travis..." began Hoshi.
"Hoshi," drawled Travis, "you're not gonna get out of this so easy. Come on now, you look like a woman who is getting some regularly."
"Travis!" sputtered Hoshi. "Get your mind out of the gutter."
"Too late," he replied, waving his fork at her. "Y'know, there's a betting pool on who it is that you're nailing..."
"Travis!" Hoshi didn't know if she should be furious, laugh or panic.
"Hoshi, Travis, mind if I join you?" Malcolm's clipped tones interrupted her thoughts and Hoshi dropped her shields enough to let Malcolm know what was going on. His amusement calmed her down.
"Sure thing, have a seat," said Travis cheerfully. He chewed thoughtfully as Malcolm settled himself across from Hoshi. "We were just discussing Hoshi's sex life."
"You were trying to pump me for information about my so-called sex life," grumbled Hoshi. Feeling Malcolm's mental laughter, she pathed to him, "Oh, laugh it up, weapons boy, because Travis will be bugging you next."
Travis put down his fork and crossing his arms, smirked at them both. "Actually, I'm pretty sure you do have one...an active one...as does the Lieutenant here."
Malcolm, who'd just taken a sip of his water, began to choke. Pounding him on the back, Hoshi glared at Travis. "Travis! This started out to be funny, but it's quickly sliding into not being amusing."
Leaning forward, Travis dropped his voice to low tone. "Okay, okay... Look, Michael told me that he saw you leaving Malcolm's quarters two weeks ago at 0200. Then Liz lets it slip to me that he saw T'Pol leaving your quarters at 0300. Finally, I see you both go into T'Pol's quarters at around 0110. You don't meditate with her that late...and let's just say that a month ago, Chang, Henderson, Chavez and I had an interesting conversation over a bottle of 120 proof vodka."
Hoshi felt the blood drain from her face and Malcolm stopped coughing, his expression becoming utterly still. Through their mental connection, Malcolm was swearing, using some of the Russian and Japanese he'd learned from Hoshi, coupled with his own, unique, favorites. "How interesting?" asked Malcolm, his accent strong and cold.
Travis' warm eyes were apologetic. "Let's just say that Chang has heard some rumors about Vulcans and he thinks that they are true. And he thinks that if they were true, T'Pol would be dead." Travis settled back in his chair, waiting.
"Travis, let sleeping dogs lie, my friend," said Malcolm flatly. Hoshi could feel the rage flow off of him in waves and she reached out to soothe him while seeking T'Pol for help. A Vulcan mantra was her response and part of Malcolm's psyche began to chant along.
Hoshi reached out and touched Travis' arm. "Please, Travis, don't mention it again, at least for now."
"Look, I'm sorry if I've offended you. I...well...look...it's just that you two are probably my closest friends on this ship and you've withdrawn from me for the past few months. I thought if I came about the subject in a round about, joking way..." He trailed off and picking up his fork, pushed his food around on his plate. "I know that ultimately, it's none of my business, but whatever is going on, I hope you're both happy."
Hoshi felt Malcolm's anger dissipate and her own fear drain away. "What should we say?" she asked Malcolm and T'Pol.
"He won't say anything if we ask him not to," pathed Malcolm.
T'Pol's agreement came back to them strongly. "I do not object if you two wish to tell him. Ensign Mayweather has proved himself to be very discreet in the past. I do not think he will violate our trust."
Smiling, Malcolm gave Travis' a little push. "We're not offended, Travis. How about we have dessert in my quarters and Hoshi and I will give you a bit of an explanation."
They were rewarded with a grin and Travis eyed them expectantly. "Should I breakout my other bottle of vodka?"
Feeling T'Pol's discomfort over the idea, Hoshi shook her head. "We're not drinking very much these days. Save it for when you're playing cards with Chang and Henderson."
Giving a small shrug, Travis didn't push the point. "Okay, fine by me. But when do you want to get together to talk? I mean, you did mean tonight, right? But I can't, as my dinner break is almost over. How about breakfast in my quarters instead?"
Flicking a brief glance at Hoshi, Malcolm agreed. "I think that will be fine. We're on Beta shift right now, so breakfast would be good. We'll pick up the food and bring it over."
Stuffing the last of his pasta into his mouth, Travis nodded. "Good, good. Look, I've got to go. I'll see you later." He gulped down his drink, and grabbing his dinner roll, got up and took his tray to the disposal section.
Watching him go, Hoshi sighed. As she talked aloud about last night's movie, she mentally said, "I'm glad we're going to tell Travis. It's been hard keeping this from him."
Malcolm took a bite of his fish and replied, "As am I, love." Out loud, he argued that the original version was superior to the updated print that was put out.
They sat there, having their multi-level conversation, waiting for T'Pol. Finally she touched their minds. "I am almost done with Doctor Phlox, and the Captain has asked me to have dinner with him. I should be finished in an hour and a half. We could meet in my quarters," sent T'Pol.
"Won't Trip be coming by for his session?" inquired Malcolm, anxiousness and a bit of protective jealousy seeping through. Hoshi didn't blame him, she had the same feelings. Trip was trying his best to monopolize T'Pol's time and Hoshi wished that they could just come out tell him what going on. But unlike Travis, who kept a sharp eye out for what was happening on board between people, Trip didn't do that. He needed it to smack him in face in order to see it.
"No," came T'Pol's reply. "Commander Tucker canceled his session for tonight, citing his need to work on Shuttlepod Two."
Relief washed over Hoshi and she felt Malcolm's as well. "All right then, we'll be ready in an hour and a half," pathed Hoshi.
T'Pol's acceptance traveled through their link and was muted. Hoshi finished her salad, listening to Malcolm describe the training session his people and the MACO's went through earlier in the day. When he was finished, Hoshi went into an explanation of some of the Xindi database information she'd translated as part of her shift on the bridge. As T'Pol and Captain Archer came into the messhall, they gave a greeting as was appropriate, but didn't stop their conversation.
Leaving the messhall, Hoshi left Malcolm working on his padd. She wanted to change her clothing from her uniform to something more comfortable and easily removed. Malcolm's teasing thoughts trailed after her and she sent him a picture of him fumbling over zippers and snaps. For a man who was very good with his hands, he sometimes jammed zippers at moments that were very awkward. He blew a mental raspberry at her and sent a vision of a very rude gesture, causing her to giggle. T'Pol's mental amusement floated along the periphery of their exchange.
Entering the lift, Hoshi smiled; she really did love them both. She was also so lucky, she'd gained a connection she'd longed for all her life and all it took was being at the right place at the right time.
Part Six: Tripping Over the Obvious
Pulling out of T'Pol, Malcolm collapsed next to Hoshi. The two women continued kissing, allowing him to catch his breath. Reaching out, he pulled Hoshi on top of him. T'Pol moved to kiss him, her mouth tasting of Hoshi, of spice, as their tongues dueled.
Malcolm gasped as Hoshi lowered herself down on his aching member. Reaching up, he played with her breasts as T'Pol broke off their kiss. She knelt between his legs and embraced the other woman from behind. Kissing Hoshi's neck, T'Pol let one hand roam lower as the other hand helped her bondmate move. Malcolm let out a low growl. Concentrating on the pleasure being caused, he allowed himself a moment of random thoughts: he loved Hoshi's breasts.
They weren't as big as T'Pol's, but they were beautifully symmetrical and luscious. T'Pol's bum was still his favorite part of the Vulcan woman's anatomy. As for himself, both women admired his overall form. He'd knew that other men could claim better endowment, but what he possessed was good enough for the women in his life and it gratified him.
It was silly, but true. And after seven months of mental connection, he'd learned that accepting the ridiculous, vain bits of his psyche was just as important as embracing his deep, dark ones.
All other coherent thought flew out his mind as Hoshi moved faster and T'Pol's hands moved to other places. She shifted her body around and Malcolm eagerly strained his head upward to lap at her. Their mental shields lowered and the swirling emotions of all three came together.
As if from a distance, Malcolm could hear his own muffled groaning, Hoshi's wild, multi-lingual cursing, and T'Pol's inarticulate moans.
The pleasure exploded between the three of them and he couldn't tell where his orgasm began or ended.
Abruptly, everything stopped and the exquisite pleasure, joy, and rapture were roughly cut off. T'Pol and Hoshi slid off his body and Malcolm looked up at the incredulous, angry, shocked face of Trip Tucker. "What the hell is going on here?"
T'Pol, ignoring her nudity, was standing and saying in the coldest voice possible, "Leave, Commander Tucker. Now."
"I...damn it all..." Trip's face was red and Malcolm stood up, drawing a furious Hoshi up with him. T'Pol's mental command was firm, "Do not say anything."
To Trip she repeated, "Commander, I said leave NOW."
Sputtering, Trip glared at all three and stormed out. The silence was deafening as Hoshi sagged against Malcolm. T'Pol sank down onto the bed, murmuring "I knew it was illogical to give him my door code, I should have listened to my inner voice on the matter."
Torn between embarrassment, fury and utter hysteria over what just occurred, Malcolm sorted through his options. Only two were even remotely satisfying and one of them would get him thrown into the brig. Settling himself and Hoshi back onto the bed, Malcolm began to laugh. Hoshi stared wide-eyed at him for a few seconds and joined in. T'Pol merely looked on in the Vulcan version of bemusement as Hoshi fell on top of Malcolm, shrieking with laughter.
After several minutes of laughing, gasping for breath, and laughing again, Malcolm managed to spit out, "Well, that was bloody horrible, wasn't it?"
"Being caught inflagrante delicto by Trip Tucker..." wheezed Hoshi.
"It was, indeed, an incredibly ill-timed moment, even for Commander Tucker," observed T'Pol in her driest tone. Her mental laughter joined their audible guffaws. Leaning against each other, the two humans continued to laugh, while the Vulcan sagged against the pillows.
Finally, they all sobered. "What are we going to do?" asked Hoshi.
"I must admit, I am at a loss as to what to do," admitted T'Pol.
Malcolm ran a hand through his hair and pulled both women into an embrace. "I'll try to talk with Trip, while the two of you need to find Captain Archer and Phlox and let them know what's happened."
"Are you sure you want to talk to Trip?" queried Hoshi. "He's going to lash out you."
"I know," replied Malcolm. "I know, but if he swings at me first, at least I can claim self-defense at my court-martial."
"Do not allow him to hurt you in some misguided attempt to show him loyalty," said T'Pol.
Malcolm gave her a gentle kiss, and one to Hoshi. "I'll be careful and I won't let him kick my arse around to let him feel better, I promise. Look, we should get dressed and start doing damage control."
They all rose and dressed without comment, mentally or otherwise. Leaving T'Pol's quarters, Malcolm carefully shielded his thoughts from his loves: this was going to be painful, no matter what.
Jonathan Archer stared at T'Pol and Hoshi, wishing to God that a Xindi ship would appear out of nowhere and cut off the conversation they were having. His head was pounding and he desperately wanted to go to sickbay and have Phlox give him a shot of something. But he couldn't until this...this situation was resolved. Damn it.
"Let me get this straight: Trip barged into your quarters and caught you, Malcolm and Hoshi in the middle of having sex, and you threw him out. Now Malcolm has gone to find him and talk to him."
"Yes," said T'Pol. The way she related the story, she might have been describing the weather.
Next to his science officer, Hoshi gazed at him, a stressed expression on her face. "We didn't mean for this to happen, sir."
Rubbing his face, Archer sighed. "I know, I know. It made sense to give Trip the code to T'Pol's quarters, as he needed it for the neuropressure sessions. And as third in command, he'd have access to it anyway. Still, he could have knocked. He should have knocked. Crap."
T'Pol's expression was her normal, serene Vulcan mask. "You will need to speak to him, Captain."
"I know that, damn it!" snapped Archer. His head was pounding. "But it's his own damn fault for not ringing your door after he'd canceled his session with you in the first place. And it's mine for not letting the three of you tell him and anyone else you wanted to about what happened on Irligo."
"You had your reasons, sir," began Hoshi.
With a grimace, Archer cut her off. "Yeah, I did, but they weren't the right reasons. It had to do with jealousy, fear and stubbornness, not out of concern for my crew or my officers. Let's go and find Malcolm and Trip, before something else happens."
Going out onto the bridge, Archer said to Mayweather, "Travis, you have the bridge. I need to go find Commander Tucker."
"Aye, sir," replied the helmsman.
Entering the lift, both women gave a small gasp as the door closed. Alarm gripped his soul as he asked, "What? What's wrong?"
Hoshi smiled wanly as T'Pol raised an elegant eyebrow. "I do believe that Malcolm has found Commander Tucker. They're in the gym."
Archer closed his eyes and prayed, prayed hard, that Trip wasn't doing anything stupid.
*** Chang and Henderson were working out when Trip Tucker stormed in, going right for the punching bag. It surprised Chang; over the last few months Tucker was less angry than when they'd first arrived on board. From talking with Travis Mayweather, he understood that the commander was once very easy going.
He watched curiously as Tucker pulled on a set of communal gloves and started swinging furiously, anger rolling off of him in waves. Exchanging a confused look, the two MACO's stopped what they were doing and Henderson called out, "Do you want one of us to spot the bag, Commander Tucker?"
Without stopping, Tucker snarled, "No!" His punches flew faster.
The two men shrugged and started their workout once more. Chang wondered what had set the man off.
Thirty seconds later, he got his answer as a worried looking Lieutenant Reed strode into the gym. Tucker's face twisted and Chang knew, just knew that Tucker had found out about Reed, Sato and T'Pol, and wasn't taking it very well. Glancing over at Henderson, he knew that the other man reached the same conclusion.
He could sympathize with Tucker. It had to be disconcerting to know that one's closest friends and fellow officers were sleeping together. But from what Chang pieced together from their time on Irligo, it wasn't something the three Enterprise officers planned on happening. His father was a diplomat and worked closely with the Vulcan compound in San Francisco. They'd even traveled to Vulcan. He'd heard his father whisper to his mother about Vulcan's mating rituals and how strange and alien they were. Seven-year itch took on an entirely different meaning.
He's shared his knowledge with Henderson and Chavez after coming back from Irligo and the three of them decided to keep their mouths shut about what they suspected. Hell, what they knew. It wasn't as if the Irligo soundproofed their buildings perfectly. Reed's and Sato's voices carried.
Ultimately, Chang buried his attraction to the communications officer and his resentment toward Reed. It wouldn't do him or the mission any good to be jealous. He was pretty sure once one got past the fantasy of having two women, the reality was much more complex and difficult to deal with. And Tucker's reaction was certainly proof.
"Get the fuck away from me, Malcolm," said Tucker. It seemed to Chang that the engineer was working himself up into a boiling rage.
"All I want to do is talk, to explain..." began Reed.
"Explain what? What? I saw all I needed to see." Tucker punched the bag, seething with anger. Chang stopped his workout once more, as did Henderson.
Reed stood there for a few seconds and pursed his lips, his face grim. "You saw us having sex, but you don't have a bloody clue as to what is really between Hoshi, T'Pol and I. When you've stopped being such a self-righteous arsehole, come talk to me, to us. We didn't mean to hurt you, Trip..."
"SHUT YOUR TRAP!" shouted Tucker. He stopped pounding on the bag and turning, swung at Reed.
The armory officer neatly ducked the swing and the two other punches Tucker threw at him. "Trip, I don't want to fight you," said Reed, his eyes pleading.
"Yeah, well then get the hell outta my face," said Tucker, the words a loud snarl. He swung again and launched himself at Reed.
Chang started to move, but paused and watched with interest as Reed easily avoided Tucker's charge and the engineer went flying into the door. Cursing, Tucker turned and went after Reed, this time partially connecting a punch that Reed blocked. The commander landed another blow, rage fueling his movements. With resignation on his face, Reed twisted, flipping Tucker off his feet and onto the floor. He landed on the taller man's chest and started cutting off his breathing. "Trip, you need to stop trying to beat my brains out and listen to me. Otherwise, you are going to end up in sickbay."
Chang decided to back the lieutenant up. "That's right, sir. With all due respect, Lieutenant Reed can easily break a bone or cause other damage, sir."
Before Tucker could react, the door opened and Captain Archer came in, followed by Hoshi Sato and T'Pol. Archer glared down at Tucker and shook his head. "Malcolm, let Trip up. Trip, if you try to swing at Malcolm again, I'm going to throw your ass into the brig for the rest of the night. Understood?"
Eyeing Archer angrily, Tucker managed a surly, "Aye, Cap'n." Reed sprang to his feet and extended a hand, which Tucker ignored. Clambering up off the floor, Tucker's face reminded Chang of his two-year-old nephew after a particularly nasty temper tantrum.
Not taking his eyes off of Tucker, Archer barked, "Malcolm, Hoshi, T'Pol, now that I'm here, you three can go. Chang, Henderson, you didn't see this, didn't hear anything, don't know anything. Got it?"
Snapping off identical salutes, Chang's "Yes, sir!" was echoed by Henderson.
"Good. Dismissed." Archer didn't bother glancing away from a heavily breathing Tucker.
T'Pol, Reed, and Sato led the way out of the gym and Henderson and Chang followed. Once outside of the gym, Chang paused, "Um, look, sir...ma'am's..."
Reed held up a hand, cutting him off. "There's nothing to say right now, Chang. We'll talk to you two later. Goodnight." The three Enterprise officers started for the lift. To Chang's surprise, they held hands all the way there.
As they turned the corner, Henderson leaned against the wall and blew out a low whistle of surprise. "I guess it won't be a secret anymore, will it?"
"Yeah, I think you're right," answered Chang. Not knowing what else to say, he gave Henderson a salute and walked toward his quarters.
Jon Archer crossed his arms and pinned Trip with an implacable look. "Trip, come with me."
Taking off his training gloves, Trip wished to God that Jon would just leave, but knowing his friend as he did, he knew wouldn't get his wish. Anger sang in his blood and all he wanted to do was to beat something into a pulp. "Look, Cap'n, all I really want to be is alone right now."
Glaring at his best friend, Jon growled, "It isn't a request, it's an order, Commander."
Sourly, Trip tossed the gloves on the floor, "Aye, Cap'n."
Without another word, Jon turned walked out of the gym and Trip followed, cursing his luck. Why was life doing this to him? Why couldn't Jon just leave everything well the fuck alone?
Following Jon to the lift, Trip's mind whirled, his thoughts in chaos. Malcolm, Hoshi and T'Pol, were involved with each other. T'Pol... T'Pol... Shit. They were having sex together. The Vulcan ice queen moaning... He flashed back to what he'd seen: Malcolm under the two women, pleasuring both of them. Hoshi and T'Pol kissing each other, caressing each other...
He cut off the memory, both aroused, jealous and angry. Malcolm was supposed to be his friend, goddamn it all and he repays him by seducing T'Pol and Hoshi. Hoshi, sweet little Hoshi, how could she...how could she be so wild? So...so...holy shit, she swung both ways? And T'Pol...why didn't she tell him that she was sleeping with Malcolm and Hoshi? Was she experimenting with human emotions and sexuality? Why did she pick them and not him? Why didn't she come to him? Didn't she know how much he cared for her? Had come to need her?
Stepping off the lift, Trip followed Jon onto the bridge. Ignoring the curious looks of the bridge crew on duty, Jon motioned Trip to go into his ready room. "Wait in there for me, Trip," ordered Jon.
Going into the room, Trip sat with a heavy thud into the chair. Looking up from his doggy bed, Porthos lifted his head and wagged his tail. The dog leaped up and scampered over to Trip. Automatically, Trip picked Porthos up and began petting him. He forced himself to concentrate on the dog and not on the betrayal...
A few minutes later, Jon came in and after the door closed, leaned against the far wall. Releasing a long breath, he ran a hand through his hair. "I owe you an apology," said Jon slowly. "I should have let them speak to you a long time ago."
Shock ran through Trip. Carefully he put Porthos back onto the floor. "What the hell? You've known about the three of them? How, how, how long have you been lettin' them fuck each other?"
Frowning, Jon stepped forward. "It's more complicated than just sex, Trip. I didn't let this happen, nor did they."
"It sure as hell looked like they were lettin' something' happen..." Trip's rage began to build and Jon put out a hand, cutting him off.
"Seven months ago, on Irligo, T'Pol went into what is known as pon farr," said Jon.
"Pon what? What the hell are you talking about, Cap'n?" demanded Trip.
Sighing, Jon looked at the ceiling, not meeting Trip's eyes. "It's the Vulcan mating cycle. It's biological and it can't be avoided, put off, or stopped. Every seven years, after a Vulcan hits adult puberty, the limbic systems floods them with an excess of hormones and if they don't have sex, well, they die."
Trip felt the blood drain from his face and jaw go slack. "Cap'n, you've got to be kiddin' me. If they don't fuck, they'll die?"
Jon gave a little shrug and sat on the edge of his desk. "It's true. You can ask Phlox. It's very hush, hush. The Vulcans...they don't like to talk about it. It isn't even in their medical database. Basically, you need to know a Vulcan who will talk about it, and then you don't get much."
"So T'Pol went into this pon farr. What the hell does it have to do with Malcolm and Hoshi?" asked Trip, feeling his anger and betrayal returning.
Rubbing his face, Jon gave another sigh as he frowned. "Bear with me here, Trip. There's a lot to this whole thing. Look, on Vulcan they match people up as children, creating a mental bond, kind of a betrothal. When they become adults, they marry and when the pon farr kicks in, they mate and the mental bond becomes more or less permanent. T'Pol gave up her Vulcan match over two years ago, and last year, when she was sick, that was a kind of pre-pon farr, caused by a microbe. On Irligo, something similar happened."
Trip slumped in the chair. "And this pon farr made her sleep with both Malcolm and Hoshi?" His voice rose; incredulity and disbelief shot through his entire body.
Jon nodded. "More than that, it made her mentally bond with both of them. If they hadn't slept and bonded with T'Pol, she'd be dead."
Trip felt his mouth open, but his mind went blank. Leaning forward, he buried his face in his hands. "Holy shit...fuck...why, why, why didn't they TELL ME!"
He heard Jon slide off the desk and felt his friend's hand on his shoulder. "They didn't tell you because I told them not to tell anyone except for Phlox," said Jon in a rueful tone. "I'm sorry, Trip. It wasn't the right thing for me to do. I should have let them tell you...especially since you're friends with Malcolm and T'Pol's been helping you..."
Trip stood up, shaking off Jon's hand. Facing him eye to eye, he fumed, "Damn right it was a mistake! Jesus, Cap'n, do you have any idea how much this...this..." He shook with fury and couldn't finish.
"Hurts?" supplied Jon in a soft tone. "I have a damn good idea. You aren't the only one who is attracted to T'Pol."
Trip stared at Jon. "You mean? You...you..."
"When they told me I was so pissed off I couldn't see straight. I wanted to pound Malcolm into the bulkhead and send Hoshi off in a torpedo. It's taken me months to feel at ease with them again. The only thing that's helped me accept all of this is that they were at the wrong place at the wrong time and there was nothing they could do except mate with T'Pol or let her die. Now I'm glad they didn't let her die." Jon's eyes bore into Trip's, his expression beseeching.
Trip gaped at his friend and a thought leapt out of his confused mind. "Can the bond be, I dunno, broken or removed?"
Grimacing, Jon shook his head and put his hands on Trip's shoulders. "It would take a very skilled Vulcan healer to help them break the bond without killing them or causing harm. It's dangerous..."
"But if they wanted to...it could be done, right?" said Trip, trying to ignore the pleading undertone he heard in his voice.
"Yes, it could be done, if...if they wanted it to be done. But they don't," replied Jon in a soft, gentle whisper.
It was as if someone reached into his chest and ripped out his heart. Trip felt all his emotions drain from his body. They wanted to be together. She wanted Malcolm and Hoshi and not him.
"Thank you, Cap'n, for takin' the time to talk to me. I'd like to be dismissed now, if you don't mind."
Jon looked at him for a long moment. Drawing his lips into a thin line, he looked as if he was going to say more to Trip. Stepping away, he simply said, "All right, Trip. If you need to talk...well, you know where to find me."
Trip couldn't even bear to nod at his old friend. Instead, he stalked out of the room and onto the bridge, not daring to look at anyone. When he got off of the lift and on the deck for his quarters, Trip repressed the urge to start running. Entering his room, he stood there numb and forlorn, feeling utterly lost and wishing that he was anywhere else in the universe but on the Enterprise.
Part Seven: What Matters Is Love
Hoshi cuddled against Malcolm's back, listening to him breathe. In, out, in, out. Each breath in time with his heartbeats.
On the other side was T'Pol, bracketing Malcolm. Holding hands, the two women formed a protective barrier for their partner. Their ashia was in a deep sleep, still recovering from wounds received on a raid against a Xindi base a six weeks ago. Phlox released him from sickbay only the day before and Captain Archer gave them the three days off to be with Malcolm.
For the entire six weeks, she and T'Pol took turns sitting with him sickbay while off duty, talking to him, reading to him, helping in anyway they could. For five weeks he was in a coma, beyond the reach of even their bond. In their own ways, both women wrestled with the deep fear that they could lose him. They reached out to Malcolm, calling to him, whispering their love to him through their mental link, not sure if it would help.
At one point, Hoshi broke down, despairing that he'd never wake up. That there would be a gaping, never healing hole in her mind, in her heart. With a quiet, deep empathy that was hidden from the rest of the crew, T'Pol held Hoshi in their quarters and reassured her that Malcolm would indeed wake from his coma. "As illogical as it may sound, Malcolm would say that a Reed never abandons the women in his life, no matter what. He will recover."
During their wait, the MACO's and Malcolm's security staff kept vigil with them. The raid on the Xindi out post used all of the two sets of personnel; besides Malcolm, there were seven other serious injuries and four deaths. Hoshi didn't know all of the details about what happened, Travis wouldn't talk about it with her. Nor would Jon Archer. As for Trip, he was still avoiding her and T'Pol, even though the incident in T'Pol's old quarters happened four months. The only one who spoke to her or T'Pol about what happened on the raid, even a little bit, was Major Hayes.
At first, that surprised Hoshi. Hayes was not keen on working with Malcolm and treated the Enterprise senior staff with chilly professional civility. On the fourth night of Malcolm's time in sickbay, Hayes came and sat with her. Haltingly, he related how Malcolm saved his life at one point in the battle, only ending up with a broken leg. Pausing mid-way through his story, Hayes said with brooding emphasis, "Most of the time, I've been playing pissing games with Reed, trying to show him that my team is better, that I know better. He's always refused to be drawn in, to get caught up in my crap. Even before he...he...even before you and T'Pol."
He stopped and looked at Hoshi; unease rippled across the Major's face and he visibly seemed to pull himself together before going on. "He's a good man, Reed. Saved my ass, saved two of my people, two of his own, and three of the engineering people who went down there with us. I hope I get the chance to make things right and let him know that I respect him. You and T'Pol...I heard how you both felt his pain, how you passed out and T'Pol almost did too. That you both recovered...well, you have my respect as well. What he endured..." Hayes faltered and after a moment, started asking questions about the languages Hoshi knew.
Hoshi went along with the abrupt change in subject; she didn't want to recall the searing, blinding agony that shot through her mind the moment Malcolm was hit. She passed out on the bridge for a few minutes. It took all of T'Pol's mental discipline to hold on and then help Hoshi solidify her mental barriers. When Hoshi came to, she refused to go to sickbay, telling Jon that Phlox would need to concentrate on the incoming casualties and not her. Now that their shields were stable, she could go on.
Somehow, the MACO's and Armory staff found out. Thus, during the entire time Malcolm was recovering, she and T'Pol were never alone at a meal in the messhall, were always brought food if they were in sickbay, were always accompanied in the gym for their workouts, and someone always escorted them to the bridge or quarters. Nothing was ever said, no false sympathy given, just silent respect and support.
Jon and Travis took turns sitting with them as well. Ever since the incident with Trip, Hoshi knew that Jon was walking a fine line between his senior staff. On the one hand, Trip was his best friend. On the other, he'd also known Hoshi for years and his friendship with T'Pol was something he'd come to cherish. But he was also the captain and couldn't show overt favoritism. So for months he practically withdrew from everyone, trying to let things settle down.
Sitting with Hoshi, Jon looked for absolution. "I shouldn't have let this happen," he said.
"It's not your fault, captain." Hoshi soothed back a lock of Malcolm's hair. "Malcolm knew his duty. Battle is always dangerous. Our mission is to save Earth, there's always a price to pay, and sometimes it's paid in blood." The words coming out of her mouth were ones Malcolm once said long ago and from the look on Jon's face, he knew it.
"I know that, but I feel that I should be protecting all of you, and yet I'm always falling short of the mark. I'm sorry Hoshi." He leaned over and took her hand in his. "You and T'Pol are as much my friends as Trip is. I've been standoffish and cool to you both while I've tried to placate Trip. And I've all but ignored Malcolm, except while on duty. I told myself that I'd be available to all of my people, even when we entered the Expanse. But I haven't been. I'm becoming Captain Ahab, going slowly mad while following the whale that is the Xindi..."
"Captain...Jon, we're all doing the best we can. We've been in here over a year and despite the odds, stopped the Xindi time and time again from completing parts of their weapons against us. We're doing what we set out to do, to stop them from destroying us." Hoshi didn't say what else she thought: one day their luck would run out.
Letting go of her hand, Jon sagged in his chair. He didn't speak for a long time. Finally he looked at the chronometer and got up. "I've got to get some sleep. I'm due on the bridge in a few hours."
Hoshi nodded. "I am too. T'Pol will be here in a few minutes and then I'll get some sleep as well."
"Good." Jon started to leave, but paused at the door. Turning back, he gave her an uneven smile. "We'll survive this, Hoshi. So will Malcolm. He'll wake up soon, I'm sure of it. Goodnight, Hoshi."
"Goodnight, sir." Hoshi watched him leave. Once he was gone, she got up from her chair and bent over Malcolm, kissing his forehead. "Malcolm Reed, you stubborn bastard, T'Pol and I need you. We love you. Don't block us out, come back to us."
There was no answer, mentally or otherwise. Biting back a sigh, Hoshi sat back down and waited for T'Pol. And so it went for days.
One night, Trip came into sickbay. He'd gone down with the assault group, to help them get past the force shields that were on the planetoid. Returning with the group, he suffered a broken arm, cuts, and bruises. As usual, he avoided her and T'Pol, but in the messhall and around the ship, Hoshi noticed that the MACO's and Malcolm's staff were studiously ignoring Trip, to the point of rudeness. She discovered too that Travis wasn't speaking to Trip off duty anymore. When she asked him what was going on, all Travis would say was that Trip had pissed him off. When she asked Major Hayes, the MACO commander changed the subject.
T'Pol noticed the same behaviors. When she asked Jon about it, all he would say was that Trip wasn't going to be going with any assault groups anytime soon. T'Pol decided to leave it that and Hoshi didn't argue with her.
Trip came in and stood at the foot of Malcolm's bed, his eyes unreadable in the low light of sickbay in its "night" mode. Hoshi and T'Pol were there together, working on reports, waiting for Phlox to return from his dinner. Chang and Henderson were going to come and sit with Malcolm in an hour so they could go and get some sleep. Both of them were holding one of Malcolm's hands.
Neither of them spoke when Trip entered. Instead, they waited for him to speak.
Nervously clearing his throat, Trip's voice was flat as he asked, "How's he doin'?"
T'Pol put down the padd she was reading from. Trip, Hoshi noticed, couldn't quite meet her eyes. "Malcolm's physical injuries are healing. He's in stable condition, although still in a coma."
Trip nodded, rubbing his hands along his side back and forth. "And y'all? How, how are the two of you doing?"
Hoshi set her padd down on the bed and let go of Malcolm's hand, not wanting to physically transmit the annoyance that was rising up inside her. Hoshi felt tired. She didn't want to play word games with him, or put up the pretense that he was trying to mend fences with them. She wasn't stupid, she knew that all the beating around the bush that Jon, Travis, Hayes and the rest were doing was about something Trip had done on the raid. Something reckless and angry and selfish. The least he could do was be honest with them. "Trip, if you have something to say, then say it. Don't skirt the issue or try to make us think that you're worried about Malcolm or us..."
"Hoshi, baiting Commander Tucker will not help the situation," began T'Pol.
"Nor will false concern and small talk," Hoshi shot back. She felt her heart grow stony towards Trip. "It's been a month and this is the first time you've come here Trip. The first time you've even deigned to talk to us informally since that night. What are you here for Trip? What do want from us?"
Trip's lips compressed into a thin, hard line. "I just wanted to see how he was doing, that's all. I've been busy with all the repairs to the ship and this is the first time I've been able to get away."
T'Pol raised an eyebrow and Hoshi felt her determination to get Trip to speak honestly to them. "Indeed. That is an interesting claim, considering that repairs were finished over a week ago. Also, did not Captain Archer order you and Lieutenant Hess to take turns overseeing the process, as he did not want either of you to experience burnout over the repairs?" T'Pol's eyes held Trip's and reddening at her words, turned away.
"What happened on the raid, Trip? What did you do?" Hoshi heard her voice as if from a distance. Part of her was surprised, she sounded as cold as the vacuum of space.
Trip's entire body stiffened, the set of his shoulders tense and closed. He didn't turn around. "I came here to see how Malcolm was doing. It was a mistake." Trip walked out, and T'Pol gave a mental sigh.
"He is clearly not ready to deal with the consequences of his actions, nor with his feelings," pathed T'Pol, her mental voice sad. Her outward countenance was its normal cool and collected mask.
"Then it's his problem, not ours," said Hoshi aloud. "He's a grown man, he should be able to come clean and tell us what happened. If he wants forgiveness, I'll give it to him, but he has to work for it. I'm not going to just melt because he's Trip Tucker, because he lost his sister, because he fell in love with you and never told you about his feelings."
"The spear is in the heart of the other, you are he," replied T'Pol.
"Self-love is as destructive as self-hate. To embrace the other, one must cast off the self and embrace the all," countered Hoshi.
T'Pol cocked her head, her lips curving in the barest of quirks. "We should not quote Surak as part of our disagreement."
"We should not give Trip a free pass out his guilt and hurt, either. I'm willing to meet him half way, but he's got move there too. In the meantime, I'd rather concentrate my energy on Malcolm." Hoshi lowered her mental shields, sending out her love for both T'Pol and Malcolm. Almost immediately, T'Pol did the same.
"Agreed," said T'Pol. They took up Malcolm's hands and read in quiet companionship the rest of the time.
When Malcolm did come out of his coma, Hoshi's relief was almost palpable. A week later, his eyes opened when she and T'Pol were both there. Hoshi stared at him in joy, while T'Pol's eyes shined with deep emotion. They simultaneously pathed, "Malcolm?"
Malcolm's mental touch was unsteady and weak. Still, he managed to send, "Bloody hell, what hit me?" Hoshi felt her jaw drop and T'Pol was rendered utterly speechless. They blinked at him. T'Pol took one hand, Hoshi took the other. Phlox came over and shooed them off, intent on checking his patient. After establishing that Malcolm was indeed out of coma and everything else was stable, Phlox let them stay for a half-hour longer. When Malcolm drifted into sleep, he sent them back to their quarters.
Using the mental control that T'Pol taught them, Hoshi managed not to cry until she was alone with T'Pol in their quarters. Only then did she let herself weep. T'Pol held her once more, letting Hoshi express what she could not.
Malcolm, it turned out, could only barely remember what happened to him. Meeting with Phlox a few days later, both Hoshi and T'Pol expressed their concern about his memory loss. Phlox gave them his well-patented reassuring smile. "It's a normal reaction to severe trauma," he told them. "What I want to the two of you to be aware of and monitor for is depression and post traumatic stress syndrome. He'll need your help as he recovers, not just with the physical therapy. I do say that being bondmates will facilitate his mental well-being, but I don't want the two of you take that for granted either."
T'Pol, looking over at Malcolm, who was once again asleep, said in her driest tone, "I assure you, doctor, Hoshi and I are well aware of the dangers of taking things for granted. We will be vigilant."
Now they were together again, in their bed, the physical and the mental touching once more. T'Pol moved closer in and Hoshi gave her hand a small squeeze. Malcolm's mind stirred, his conscious and unconscious thoughts rolling in and out like the tide. His accent was thick with sleep as he whispered, "Nothing else matters but this, what we have. Nothing else matters...love you...love both of you..."
Tears in her eyes, Hoshi rested her head on Malcolm's shoulder. Wordlessly, she and T'Pol sent their love to him.
Part Eight: Some Wounds Never Fade
T'Pol sat in the middle of the quarters she shared with Malcolm and Hoshi, meditating in front of her fire pot, the candle casting a soft glow to the room. Malcolm was in sickbay, undergoing his daily routine of physical therapy. He was making good progress and Phlox felt that in three more weeks he should be finished. Hoshi was on duty on the bridge, monitoring Xindi sub-space messages.
It was the middle of the Enterprise's "night" cycle. In two hours, T'Pol and Malcolm would meet Hoshi for a late dinner in the messhall, then retire for the rest of the night. A few hours later, T'Pol would go on duty. The routine was one that they'd gone through for three weeks.
As she sorted through her memories, feelings, and thoughts, T'Pol considered the state of her relationship with her ashias. Being a bondmate to two humans was rewarding, but often times exhausting. She would not give up what she had with them for anything, but it did mean that she needed to meditate more often.
Perhaps it was not just due to being linked to two humans. Going over the number of times she'd meditated over the last year, the statistics showed that she needed more meditation since entering the Expanse. Therefore, she could not place blame at the feet of her lovers. She felt an eyebrow lift at the use of the word. Lovers, a human term she was only now beginning to truly understand.
Her focus shifted as fast as the flame flickered in the pot. For the most part, relations between the three of them were going well. Malcolm was somewhat depressed over his physical state, although the renewal of sexual relations between them helped his state of mind considerably. As if the ability to help her and Hoshi achieve orgasm successfully was a measure by which he could hold himself to be accountable. It was interesting how that one facet of their bond helped to restore his self-confidence almost as much as going back on light duty.
Males, T'Pol mused, were both confusing and simple at the same time. Malcolm was no exception.
It was Hoshi who was proving to be more complex as the months went on. To T'Pol's surprise, she held considerable animosity toward Commander Tucker. Hoshi was convinced that the commander caused their bondmate's injuries and was growing more and more furious that he would not admit to it. She was appalled that Malcolm seemed not to care one way or the other if Tucker was to blame for his injuries.
Just the other night Malcolm tried to explain how he saw the situation. They were having after dinner tea in their quarters. "Hoshi, love, it doesn't bloody matter to me. Once it might have, but I've come to appreciate what I have. I'm alive. I have you and T'Pol. I have a great friend in Travis and I've bonded with Hayes and MACO's. I'm happy with what I have in my life and don't want to waste my energy on what I don't have. So Trip won't suck it up and come talk to us. I've done all I could to reach out to him and the ball is in his court. You said so yourself, it's his problem, not ours."
"But what if he lashes out at you while on a mission? What if he does something stupid that puts you or others in danger? I can't trust him around you anymore," said Hoshi. "I hate feeling this way! I do, but I don't trust Trip any more."
Malcolm took Hoshi's hand, giving it a swift kiss. "Look, as long as the captain keeps Commander Tucker on the ship during strategic and military operations, then I can do my job without trepidation. I've discussed this Major Hayes and he agrees with me. As does T'Pol. Right, love?"
Sipping her tea, T'Pol nodded in agreement. "I do indeed. And I believe, given more time, Commander Tucker will come to us and as you say, 'clear the air' with all of us. His temperament is such that he will do what is ethical and correct."
With a delicate sniff, Hoshi crossed her arms, her expression and the tenor of her mental touch showing disbelief. "Once, I would have agreed with you. Now I don't. He's a selfish man, wallowing in self-pity and not bothering to pull himself out of it. Jon should have left him back on Earth and we'd all be in a better place right now."
"Hoshi, that's harsh. Trip is one of the best, if not the best engineer in Starfleet. We'd be dead a hundred times over if not for him," countered Malcolm.
"Why are you defending him? He almost killed you..." said Hoshi hotly.
"We don't know that for sure and I don't remember..." started Malcolm.
Seeing that they were about to spiral into a pointless argument, T'Pol put down her tea and in a stern mental command, said, "Both of you, stop. You are being illogical and childish. I would rather put our energy toward more...personal areas. I am also tired of policing this argument between you. I am your bondmate, not your parent."
Both of them were instantly contrite. "I apologize, T'Pol," pathed Hoshi.
"As do I," said Malcolm. His eyes glittered and a small smirk graced his lips. "So, you want us to put our energy toward more personal areas, eh? How personal?"
Hoshi moved the tea cups out of the way. Leaning forward, she kissed T'Pol, letting her hands move underneath her pajamas, stroking her breasts. "Is this a better way of channeling our energy?"
Malcolm's hands joined Hoshi's and he dipped his mouth to suck at T'Pol's neck. "How about this," he murmured. T'Pol let her hands move to stroke her partners, one hand slipping down Hoshi's shorts, the other rubbing Malcolm's erection through his blues. She moaned her reply and they slipped into each other's minds, intent on heightening the erotic sensations they gave to one another.
The variety of sexual exploration she experienced with her ashias was proving to be most gratifying, T'Pol mused, as the memory of what they did flashed across her mind.
The door chime buzzed, drawing her out of her meditation. Controlling her breathing, she called out, "Come in."
Charles Tucker walked in, making her blink with surprise. He was the last person she expected to come see her at this hour. Securing her mental barriers, T'Pol decided not to reach out to Malcolm and Hoshi, at least not yet. "Commander Tucker, what brings you here?"
Shifting in an awkward manner, he looked at the floor, stammering, "Look, T'Pol, I...I...I need, I need your help."
If she was human, T'Pol figured that her next words should be, "You have some nerve, coming here to ask for help." As she was not, she raised an eyebrow and replied, "How so, Commander Tucker?"
Still not meeting her eyes, Tucker seemed to be staring at his left foot. "I'm havin' trouble sleeping again. I do the breathing you taught me and all that, but it's not working. Phlox gave me some stuff for two weeks, then stopped again and suggested that I come and talk to you."
A minuscule flash of irritation towards the doctor raced through T'Pol. He could have warned her this was coming. Steadying herself, T'Pol came to a decision. "It is regrettable that you are not able to sleep once more. You made a great deal of progress before you stopped your sessions with me. I will help you once more, but there will be, as you humans say, strings attached this time."
Tucker's face went from hopeful, to happy, to uneasy in the space of the few seconds it took her to speak. Crossing his arms, the engineer drawled suspiciously, "What kinda strings are you talking about?"
Blowing out her candle T'Pol stood up. "You must speak to Malcolm and Hoshi and repair your friendship with them."
For a moment, T'Pol was sure Tucker was going to storm out of the room. His jaw dropped open and he turned a shade of red that rivaled Malcolm at his most embarrassed. Before he could speak, T'Pol decided to give him more incentive.
"Charles, it is illogical to remain angry at Hoshi and Malcolm for something they could not foresee. I know that we were slowly moving towards a relationship that was..." T'Pol paused, knowing that she needed to tread in a careful manner, picking each word with care. "That was deeper than being simply friends. During our sessions and afterward, I sensed that you were attracted to me, and that the attraction grew deeper as the neuropressure became more... intimate in your view. However, circumstances are now very different. You must move forward with your life, Charles."
His entire body sagged in sad defeat. "I know, I know that, T'Pol, but it ain't that easy. I was falling in love with you."
She moved closer, not wanting to touch him, but knowing that the gesture of being in his personal space would have some impact on him. "I understand that, Charles. Perhaps, if things were different, I might have reciprocated. However, I am bonded to Malcolm and Hoshi and they to me. What we have with one another...suits us. They are my beloved ones, my ashias. I am open to repairing our friendship, Charles, with the understanding that it is all I have to offer you. I cannot do so if you continue to harbor ill-will toward my partners."
Closing his eyes, Tucker grimaced as if in deep pain. "I can't promise that Malcolm and I will become buddies again, T'Pol."
"I am not asking you to make a promise you cannot keep. I am asking you to set aside anger, bitterness and jealousy. Talk to them and try to heal your wounds and theirs as well."
Tucker opened his eyes, the blue brighter than Malcolm's, yet not as pleasing to her. They were filled with pain, confusion and doubt. "Some wounds never fade, T'Pol, no matter what you do," he whispered.
She reached out and touched his arm. "All I am asking is for you to set aside fear and try, Charles. That is all. If you try, I will help you. If you do not, I will instruct Phlox on the technique and he can do it for you."
T'Pol let her hand fall away. Tucker's brow furrowed and he gave her a slight nod. "Let me think on it, T'Pol. I'll decide in a day or two." He turned and left in silence.
After the door closed behind him, T'Pol sat back down on her meditation cushion, re-lit the fire pot, and began to chant in Vulcan. She needed to clear her mind and erase the sadness that teased at the edge of her awareness.
Part Nine: An Interlude of Desire
For a moment Hoshi feels like she is floating. Her body shudders as lightning bolts of exquisite sexual release moves through her. Feeling skin against skin, the heat of mouths, the penetration of fingers and phallus, the scent and taste of sweat, of semen, of the orgasmic essence that flowed from her core, from T'Pol's core, the sound of breathing, panting, of vowels torn away from syllables, all combined to overwhelm.
She lets her orgasm pulse through and out, wrapping up Malcolm, triggering his electric cry, weaving into T'Pol, yanking her out of logic's firm embrace, the fire of desire consuming them all.
There is skin, there is sensation, there is pleasure, there is love.
All he knows is them. The heat of their minds, the softness of their bodies, tenor of their thoughts...there nothing else more important than the now that binds them together. Malcolm aims for their most sensitive spots, listening for quickening of breath that tells him he's acquired his target. Hands that can main, hurt, kill, or destroy, skim warm flesh, inspiring sigh after sigh, building up the pressure of pleasure that can only lead to one explosive peak. He thrusts, caresses, laps, suckles, bites, soothes, and strokes in an endless circle of joy.
He feels Hoshi coming, not just from the rush in his mind, but from the taste of her as well, and as she grinds into his face, he registers T'Pol moving down faster and harder, her body gripping him tightly, warmer than a candle's flame, and the flood gates open. All he can do is thrust and parry, giving himself to them both.
There is skin, there is sensation, there is pleasure, there is love.
Their thoughts are chaotic whirlpools of sexual energy, sensation upon sensation piling up until everything topples over, creating a vortex that pulls her deeper into rapture. It should not be that it gets stronger each time, that their bodies learn from the time before, that a touch, a lick, a kiss becomes more intense each time...but it does.
T'Pol does not know if what she experiences is the same for others of her kind. She will never inquire overtly or covertly, for there are no words that could adequately describe everything that washes over her when her body is connected to Malcolm and Hoshi. From her loves she is acquiring a vocabulary beyond language and it settles into her skin, bones and nerves each time she cries out in sexual pleasure.
There is skin, there is sensation, there is pleasure, there is love.
He sits in his quarters, lying naked on his bed, his mind conjuring up the memory of what he saw all those months ago. He grows hard to his touch, his mind replacing Malcolm with himself, his mind removing Hoshi, until there is no one else but himself and T'Pol.
He imagines her writhing on top of him, eyes closed, slick and warm as she moves on him. He imagines her breasts, heavy and full in his hands, the nipples like dark cherries, waiting for his mouth.
In his mind he takes her from behind, he moves her onto the bed, her legs on his shoulders as he plunges deep, her legs wrapped around his waist as he takes her against the wall.
When he comes, his groans fill the air of the room, lonely consonants that dissipate like steam. He tries to imagine her voice joining his, but all he hears is the chorus of three voices, all rising and falling on the same notes.
With unsteady hands, Trip cleans himself up. Looking into his bathroom mirror, haunted eyes stare blankly. She will never be his. Even if Malcolm and Hoshi were to die tomorrow, she would never reach out to him, join with him, give herself to him. Deep down he knows that she would rather live with the memories of songs she creates with them, than to start a new song with another.
He should let go of his bitter envy, he knows this. It will only cut him off from his friends, his peers, the ability to ever love again. He's not sure if he can, but he'll try.
Settling between the sheets, there is cold, there is silence, there is the low throb of his physical release and regret filled heart.
Part Ten: Crossing The Line
Twenty minutes ago, the Enterprise was boarded. Xindi Reptilians came through in a breaching pod, and Malcolm thanked whatever powers there were in the universe that transporters didn't work in this part of the Expanse.
Otherwise the trap they were setting might fail.
It is a huge gamble they are taking, but the prize is worth it: the co-ordinates they've been looking for since they entered the Expanse--the current homeworld of the Xindi.
Everyone is in body armor and armed to the teeth. Captain Archer's orders are simple: they will fight deck by deck, corridor by corridor, room by room if necessary; all to distract the Xindi, so that Major Hayes and two of his team could get T'Pol on the Xindi ship, download the data they needed and then get the hell back onto Enterprise.
When that was done, Malcolm would blow the bastards to hell.
Checking the internal sensors, he sees that a team of Xindi are on their way to Engineering and Malcolm, along with Hoshi and four other, start their way down to help Trip's people. His mind is linked with hers; it is like having an extra set of eyes and ears. Often times they shoot in perfect tandem together.
Being linked together offered up one other benefit: it keeps them both from worrying about each other and focus on their job.
Malcolm sees a Xindi and shoots, rolling on the floor and popping back up. He hears Jacob's cry of pain and through Hoshi's eyes sees Nguyen gather up his fallen crewmate. He and Hoshi continue on together.
Rounding the corner, Malcolm hears Travis in his earpiece. "Malcolm, some of them are in the left nacelle. Trip's gone after them without back-up."
"FUCK!" he thinks and Hoshi curses in Andorian. "Right, on my way," he says aloud. "Nguyen, Li, Castillo, get Jacob into a room and continue onto engineering."
They don't bother to say a word, but keep on going. He pops open an access tube and starts climbing, Hoshi right behind him. He channels her claustrophobia into in his mind and casts it aside for her. In their minds, they converse in Vulcan and he plans what to do when they reach their destination.
Smoke and the flashing red lights that are ever present on the ship right now greet them as they make their way onto the next deck. Everything passes by in an adrenaline fed blur... Shoot, fight, kill, continue... Roll...duck...shoot...kill...continue...
They are in the junction leading to the nacelle and there is Trip, fighting with a Xindi, blood falling from cuts as red rain...
Before they can intervene, the Xindi twists in an inhuman way and grips Trip by the throat and shoulder. "Put your weapons down or he dies," hisses the Xindi.
Malcolm and Hoshi keep their weapons steady. The phase rifles are set on kill. Trip knows this. His eyes are bitter and hollow as he gasps, "Kill us, Mal..."
The Xindi laughs. "They will not kill you."
"That's right, I won't kill Trip, but I will kill you," says Malcolm.
"Do it!" says Trip, his voice a tortured whisper.
"I won't kill my best friend," shouts Malcolm. "I won't. Not after what happened with the Klingon marauders." He hopes Trip understands what the reference means, that he'll remember how they moved the village, what that allowed them to do...what it could mean to save his life. The flash of confusion, then resolve on Trip's face gives him hope.
In his mind, he knows Hoshi is ready. Malcolm counts to three...
Hoshi fires above the Xindi's head, Trip goes slack, using his dead weight to move centimeters to the left and Malcolm fires, hitting the Xindi between the eyes.
It releases Trip as it falls dead to deck.
Without missing a beat, Malcolm pulls out a phase pistol from one of his flaps, tosses it to Trip and growls, "Don't be so hasty to die, Trip."
"You'll break our hearts if you do," says Hoshi.
Trip stares at them in shock, not saying a word, panting to catch his breath.
Malcolm turns to Hoshi. "Let's go. We've got ten minutes left." They start back toward the main part of the ship and after a moment, they hear Trip follow them.
Trip lies on a bio-bed as Phlox finishes putting the last dermal seal on his wounds. Sickbay is full, the number two cargo bay holds the ten who died defending the ship.
All around him, people are murmuring about how lucky they are to be alive.
Jon is walking around, talking to his crew, limping from the injury to his leg, one of his eyes covered by a temporary patch. Phlox was able to save the eye. Only time will tell how his vision recovers. T'Pol comes in and Trip watches as Jon smiles at her. She goes over and he talks rapidly with her. He's completely at ease with her.
T'Pol comes over to his bio-bed and says, "I am glad you are alive, Charles." Before he can say a word, she glides off, going across the room to Malcolm and Hoshi, who are sitting together against the wall. Malcolm has several burns and wounds. Hoshi has a broken arm. T'Pol sits down and hold their hands. For something so small it is an astonishingly intimate act for her to do in public.
Phlox sees that he is staring. Following his gaze, the doctor gives a tiny smile. "Even in the midst of pain and death, it is good to see love reaffirm the reasons why we live." Phlox gives him a gentle pat on the shoulder and goes off to tend to other patients.
Love reaffirming the reasons why we live. The phrase rattles around in Trip's head. Why does he continue to live?
Malcolm and Hoshi saved his life. He was ready to die and didn't really care if he'd stopped the Xindi soldier or not. He wanted to die...because getting revenge for Lizzie's death wasn't enough for him anymore. He wanted to die, because after stopping the Xindi, he was sure there was nothing left for him to live for.
But Malcolm and Hoshi didn't let him die. They showed him that they still cared for him, despite how despicable and childish his behavior was toward them over the past months. That his death would hurt them, even though he'd done nothing to deserve such consideration.
Sitting in Engineering, Trip stares at the warp core. He has no idea how he ended up next to his engines, but he's there and his heart beats in time with the warp drive's hum.
"Trip?" He looks up and there is the Cap'n. Jon's face is sad, tender, grief filled. "Malcolm and Hoshi told me what happened. Did you really want to die?"
Standing before him is his best friend in the entire universe, a man who has gone through hell with him, struggled with him, been disappointed with him, been proud of him. A man whom he loves like a brother. Trip knows he can't lie to Jon. "Yeah. But, Cap'n...Jon...I don't want to now."
Green eyes are filled with relief. "Good, because if I had lost you..." Jon stops and a range of emotions too complex to sort out run riot over his face. "You're the only family I have left, Trip..." Jon's voice cracks with raw emotion. "If you'd let yourself be killed, part of me would have died. And I'd be alone."
Jon hobbles up and Trip stands. For a second their eyes meet. Jon pulls him into an enormous bear hug and Trip hugs his friend back. Without fear, without shame, ignoring the stares of Hess and the others on duty, they both begin to cry.
And Trip feels as if a heavy weight is lifting off of his body, of his heart, of his soul.
Walking into the sparsely populated messhall, Trip sees that Malcolm and Hoshi are eating a late dinner together. The ease of movements, the confidence of their teasing banter, the casual comfort automatically afforded to one another, it causes Trip to falter. Will they be able to trust what he will offer to them? Does he trust himself enough to mean it?
T'Pol, he knows, is having breakfast with Jon. The topsy-turvy scheduling of shifts means one person's dinner is another's breakfast. Jon will be going off shift while T'Pol will be going on, but they still manage to eat together, to go over reports, to plan strategies. Jon can do such a thing easily, be connected to the woman he once desired, knowing that he'll never get what he dreamed about. Trip envies his friend, being able to separate out the feelings he once had for the Vulcan woman and selflessly offer his friendship to her, to Malcolm, to Hoshi. He knows that Jon views them like family now. Whatever else happens in the Expanse, he will be there for them.
It is something that Jon gives him time and time again as his best friend. Trip knows that he should follow Jon's example, after all, Jon is both mentor and brother to him too.
What would Jon do? Jon would go over and say...
Trip lets his legs carry him over to Malcolm and Hoshi. They stop talking as they see him, waiting, hope stamped on Malcolm's face, wariness on Hoshi's.
He halts in front of the table. He knows he has to be the one to speak first. He looks at them straight on, not breaking away from their eyes.
"Malcolm...Hoshi...I'm...I'm..." he falters, takes a deep breath, and forces himself to spit out the words. "I'm sorry."
Trip knows there is more to say, more words trapped behind his tongue, but Malcolm and Hoshi don't press him for them. Instead, Malcolm gives him a wry smile and Hoshi's expression becomes softer. "We know, Trip," Malcolm's voice is warm and understanding.
"Come and sit with us," says Hoshi, giving him a tentative smile.
Trip sits down, they each take a hand, and the words begin to flow.
Part Eleven: To Everything There Is A Season And A Time To Every Purpose...
T'Pol knows she is old, older than her doctors thought possible, considering her condition. They never thought she'd live this long, even though it is within the normal parameters for her people's life span. But her life will soon be passing on; she is dying and she is not afraid.
Her family surrounds her. For days they have been coming to San Francisco, filling the old house, their voices echoing down the hallway.
Their children, grandchildren, great-grand children and beyond. They are here.
Only the youngest of Hoshi's and Malcolm's children is still alive, the other three dying years ago. Her own Vulcan children are still alive, and all four sit together, the Vulcans solicitous of their fragile step-sibling.
She did not plan to have children. After Enterprise, after everything, they looked into having a child together, but at the time, medical science had not yet untangled the genetic threads to create a Human-Vulcan hybrid. Their inquiry started the research, but they found that it would be too late for them to reap the benefits. So T'Pol encouraged her partners to have children and she would be their step-mother. It was enough that they would be a family.
Three years after that, an opportunity presented itself out of the blue. Yuris, the doctor who stood up for her so long ago, came to Earth, seeking out T'Pol. He explained that his mate died in an accident and no family would accept him as a bondmate...at least not then. Even though T'Pol was persona non-grata to her family because she was bonded to humans, Yuris thought she would be an excellent parent. He asked if she would allow in-vitro fertilization, so that he would not be lost to time and live on in some small way. His pon farr would arrive soon and he knew he would die. He did not care if they were raised with human siblings. He hoped that they would be a bridge between their two peoples. And it would give the Vulcan establishment a wake up call: Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations would be made real by their family.
Yuris was right, it just took another thirty years...T'Pol drifted, her thoughts moving back in time...
Malcolm and Hoshi thought it was a wonderful idea. They knew that as much as she loved Nathan Charles Sato-Reed and Shiori Sato-Reed, this was an opportunity she could not pass up, to have a child who would carry on her own genetic legacy. So T'Pol agreed.
With Phlox's help, thirty-seven embryos were created. After three attempts at implantation, T'Sao was born a year later, two years after that, Shomal, three years after that T'Mal. After Shomal, Takane Sato-Reed was born and after T'Mal, Malcolm and Hoshi had Anna Sato-Reed.
Seven children, three boys and four girls, raised as siblings, raised to respect both Earth and Vulcan.
It was an accomplishment that she was very proud of. Yet, the one she was most proud of was her bond with Malcolm and Hoshi.
T'Mal brought a cup to her lips, and T'Pol drank, giving her daughter a small smile. She could smile now...a dying Vulcan could show emotion...a dying Vulcan could do whatever she bloody well pleased...as Malcolm would say...Hoshi would laugh and say that anyone dying could do whatever the hell they liked...
She did not dwell upon the Expanse, a place that no longer existed, for as much as it held memories of love and desire, it also held ones of pain, of death, of bitter wounds. Instead, T'Pol thought of her life afterward. Her friends, dear friends, long gone...
Jonathan... Jonathan remained her friend, her ally. Next to her bondmates and children, he was the most important person in her life. Together, they dragged their two peoples to an understanding that led to the formation of the United Federation of Planets. It gratified T'Pol that over the years, Jonathan regained his sense of awe and wonder about the universe, about the possibilities different peoples could achieve together. His professional life was filled with triumphs that made her proud. His personal life was one of family, of friends, of difficulties that never weakened his will.
His granddaughter was now a Starfleet Admiral, his grandson a Federation Diplomat. Their children carried on in Starfleet and in the Federation. He would be so proud to know that new generations of Archers were in the stars.
Her thoughts turned to Charles Tucker. It took her thirty years to call him Trip, and then only in private. A sigh escaped her lips...Trip Tucker...
It took years to repair his relationship with Malcolm. He remained ashamed for so long about what he'd done on that fateful raid: that his anger toward the Xindi made him act in such a way that Malcolm nearly died and caused the death of others. Then, shortly before the Enterprise returned to Earth for the final time, something changed. T'Pol and Hoshi never asked what it was that freed Trip from his overwhelming guilt, but Hoshi thought that Malcolm finally seduced his friend, giving him a taste of what Trip so desperately coveted. In all their years together, T'Pol and Hoshi never once pressed Malcolm for details. On the day he died, Malcolm confirmed what they had surmised. "I had to let him know that he was loved and forgiven...it seemed like the only way at the time...otherwise he'd have drowned in guilt...bloody git...I figured that asking the two of you to have him sleep with us would be too much...but I could offer him one night...didn't think you'd mind...my loves..."
They assured him that they didn't mind, that they understood. T'Pol smiled as she remembered Malcolm's whispered, "My loves...always understanding me, even when I didn't understand myself very well..."
Trip stayed in Starfleet, ultimately becoming a captain, later on becoming in charge of Starfleet's engineering program. He married right after their return to Earth and had three children: Charles Tucker the fourth, Jonathan Tucker, and Elizabeth Tucker. But his first marriage ended bitterly and for years he was estranged from his children. It took his nearly dying and a visit from Hoshi to his ex-wife to reconnect him with his children. His second marriage was much happier. T'Pol smiled at the memory of Trip getting married in Florida, Jonathan as his best man... All of the former Enterprise senior officers were there... She cut off memories of Trip's death and thought of happier things... Charles Tucker the fifth was married to T'Mal's daughter. At last, part of Trip was united to her... T'Pol wondered if it would have made him happy...
The rest of her former cremates crowded into her memory...Travis Mayweather, Hoshi's dearest friend...Malcolm's good friend, a young man she'd come to cherish... Always apart of their household anytime he was on Earth. Taught the children how to rock climb, took them all on hikes, he loved exploring the outdoors, asked Hoshi to be his "best person" at his wedding, much to the bemusement of his in-laws...Travis became a Starfleet captain, died three weeks before retiring, in an incident on the Romulan border, unofficially a heated battle, officially a "minor disagreement..." The three of them taking in his son Jon, who was at Starfleet Academy, Hoshi and Malcolm holding him as they cried...Malcolm and Hoshi giving the address at the memorial service, watching Jon Mayweather marry Malcolm's niece, Allana...
Phlox, living with two of his children and their families on Earth, always curious, always delighting in the differences around him...delivering the children of his former cremates for so many years, teaching at Starfleet Academy, dying in a preventable shuttle accident on his home planet when he went for a visit...Hoshi and Malcolm crying after his funeral...
Tiredness over took T'Pol as the thought choked her: she'd buried so many of her friends, her step children, she buried both her loves...
Her loves...Hoshi and Malcolm...
Hands went to her temple...a soft voice whispering...remember...
The day was fading into a spectacular sunset, pinks and orange-lit clouds, pale yellow light meeting the horizon as the blue sky went from vivid to a hint of dark velvet. Hoshi commented that it reminded her of the skies in Maxwell Parrish paintings. The air was crisp and cool, a slight breeze coming off of the bay. T'Pol stood with Hoshi in front of a three story Victorian house, painted in blues, corals, terra cotta red. They were waiting for Malcolm and the real estate agent who was to show them the house. The wind picked up and she wrapped her shawl around her shoulders tightly. Hoshi smiled, "I thought you were used to fall weather?"
"I was, at one point when I was first assigned to the Vulcan compound, but it has been several years since I have experienced the weather here," replied T'Pol. "I would like to go inside soon. It is not like Malcolm to be late."
Hoshi's smile became larger. "I see him, he's half way down the block." She waved and Malcolm waved back.
He quickly trotted up to them, not showing the least bit of exertion from coming up the hill. Giving both of them a quick peck on the cheek, he pulled out a card key from his jacket. "Sorry I'm late, but I had some business to attend to. Shall we go inside?"
Hoshi threw her a surprised look and T'Pol went through Malcolm's schedule. There was nothing on it that she knew of that would keep him from being punctual, but with Starfleet, one never knew... And as the new head of Weapons R and D, Malcolm's day could change without warning...
Malcolm was leading up the stairs, and swiping the card, he ushered them inside. "It's a very beautiful house and I think you'll both agree, it's got enough space for us, any children we might have or adopt, visitors, and even office space..."
T'Pol inspected the house thoroughly, as did Hoshi, although the main bedroom was locked. Malcolm just smiled when she pointed that out to him. "I'm saving the best for last. I'll open it when you've seen the rest."
The back yard was small, but it had a two tiered deck that held a varied container garden. All of the modern amenities were in the house, it was highly reinforced for earthquakes, and it was beautiful, a pleasing meld of old and new.
"What do you two think?" asked Malcolm, pausing in front of the master bedroom door.
Hoshi slipped her arm around T'Pol's waist. "I love it, it's wonderful and has everything we've been looking for. It's in the city, near both Starfleet Headquarters and the Academy, it's not far from Golden Gate Park and the neighborhood is eclectic enough that two humans and a Vulcan living together won't raise eyebrows."
Malcolm gave an amused snort. "Hoshi, love, despite Starfleet's location here, it's still the city where historically, the love that dared not speak its name not only spoke, it wouldn't shut up. Not much surprises San Franciscans. We're not even worth a blip on the radar here. What do you think T'Pol?"
"I find the house aesthetically pleasing and well suited for our needs." She let her arm go around Hoshi's waist.
Malcolm's eyes sparkled. "Good. I thought so." He opened the master bedroom door.
T'Pol and Hoshi stared. In the room was an enormous bed, covered in red and gray sheets, pillows, and blankets. It was backed up against tall bay windows, which had flowing, silky sheer drapes. Candles were lit all around the room. Malcolm threw his arms out and said, "I bought the house for us. I just couldn't let it slip out of our grasp and besides, when my Aunt Sherry left me her estate, she said to use it on something useful..."
T'Pol broke away from Hoshi, not sure how she should react. It was out of character for Malcolm to be so impulsive. Hoshi stood in the doorway, her jaw hanging open in shock. With a shout of joy, Hoshi ran over, hugging Malcolm, kissing him breathlessly. She reached out and pulled T'Pol to them, including her the embrace. "I love it!" pathed Hoshi. "This is the best surprise you ever pulled on us, Malcolm Reed!"
"What if we had not like the house? What would have done then, Malcolm?" In the safety of their link, T'Pol let some of her shock and discomfort out.
Kissing her in a slow, deliberate manner, Malcolm pathed back, "If you hadn't liked it, I would have turned around and put it right back on the market. Gloria assured me that she sell it in a flash, love."
Hoshi was kissing her neck, her hands moving to caress them both, as Malcolm started to urge them onto the bed. "T'Pol," said Hoshi through the link, "T'Pol, accept what is and enjoy it. We have a house and we have a bed..."
"Which I think you'll both enjoy very, very, very much..." smirked Malcolm. He began removing their clothing, Hoshi helping, and after a moment of consideration, T'Pol joined in, pushing Malcolm onto his back.
"You both talk too much," sent T'Pol.
They made love to candle light, slow and gentle, savoring one another.
T'Pol cried out, coming over and over in the arms of her loves as they too experienced their orgasms...there is skin, there is sensation, there is pleasure, there is love...
In the master bedroom of the house, T'Mal closed her mother's eyes as her sister T'Sao collected T'Pol's katra. Shomal and Anna held her hands, and all four leaned over to kiss her cheek. As they did so, T'Pol breathed her final breath.
~the end~