Forwarded by the ASC-VSO 
Posted: 8 Jan 2004 11:38:25 -0800  
In: alt.startrek.creative 
From: shouldknowbettertt@yahoo.co.uk (shouldknowbetter) 
 

Title:  The Rainbow's Foot (1/5):   (30/34 in series)
Series: Begins with "A Logical Proposal"  "The Rainbow's Foot" is
ninth and last in the series.

Author: ShouldKnowBetter
Email:  shouldknowbettertt@yahoo.uk.com
Rating:      PG-13
Codes:  Tu/T, A/S Enterprise characters, drama, angst
Summary: Ten years after leaving Enterprise, T'Pol attends a
URL:  I don't have a website, but all my stories are archived at
Trip/T'Polers:  http://triptpolers.houseoftucker.com/fiction

The "Logical Proposal" series begins here:  
http://triptpolers.houseoftucker.com/fiction/author_shouldknowbetter_a_logical_proposal.shtml

And, this story, "The Rainbow's Foot," can be found here: 
http://triptpolers.houseoftucker.com/fiction/author_shouldknowbetter_the_rainbows_foot.shtml


Author's Notes:
1.      This ignores Season 2.
2.      I didn't try to represent a southern USA accent in type.  You all
know how Trip sounds – just read the words with the correct accent.
3.      I apologise for this one.  I always intended my series to end with
"Remember", but having finished it I found that I couldn't leave well
alone.  I'm sure Trip and T'Pol are sensible enough to get on with
their lives even though they're not together away more.  T'Pol
wouldn't really be a wimp, would she?

*******************

THE RAINBOW'S FOOT

Part One


 "I am looking for Commander Tucker's office."  The cool voice made
the yeoman, who hadn't been paying as much attention to her job as she
should have been, jump guiltily until she saw that the woman standing
in front of her desk wasn't in uniform.

"You're in the right place."

One eyebrow twitched and the yeoman realised that the other's cast of
features was just subtlety non-human and that the ears visible through
the cropped hair ended in elegant points.  "Is the commander
available?"

"Not at the moment, ma'am."  Any Vulcan in Starfleet headquarters had
to be treated with respect unless one was prepared to put up with
biting sarcasm.  "But he should be back soon.  Would you like to
wait?"

There might have been a slight hesitation then the woman inclined her
head in acceptance.  "Very well."

"If you'd like to go through, then, ma'am?"  The girl indicated the
door to her left, glad when the woman again nodded slightly and walked
slowly over, back straight.  The young human woman definitely didn't
want to spend the next half hour with a Vulcan staring disapprovingly
at her, although whether Commander Tucker would be pleased that she
had allowed one of his pet hates into his office was another matter.

T'Pol halted as soon as the doors slid closed behind her, looking
assessingly around even as one of her eyebrows lifted fully in
distain.  Ten years and a job as one of Starfleet's senior designer
engineers had evidently not made Tucker any more disciplined in his
approach.  The room was distressingly untidy, PADDS and components
strewn everywhere, even on the floor, liberally interspersed with mugs
that T'Pol was positive would prove to be half full of cold coffee. 
She was surprised that Tucker was allowed to get away with such
slovenly behaviour within the headquarters of Starfleet itself, but he
evidently made his own rules as he always had.  Slowly she moved
towards the desk, debating the wisdom of taking a brief look at what
he was working on, but her conscience won out.  She no longer had the
excuse of being seconded to Starfleet and the option of friendship was
long over.  Instead, she approached the wall behind the desk, less
cluttered than the other walls but decorated with rows of framed
photographs.  Many of them were of ships, a few that she recognised
even without the legends underneath, but it was the people that drew
her, particularly a pair of fair haired children who appeared in many
of the shots.  In the later ones, they appeared to be about eight and
seven in human years, the girl a little the taller, the boy with a
grin that was achingly familiar.

T'Pol moved on hurriedly, only to come face to face with an even more
painful image.  It was a formal Starfleet release from Enterprise's
official leaving taking over thirteen years previously, the senior
staff grouped around their captain in a pose that had been used for
decades, ever since humankind first sent men into orbit of their
planet of origin.  T'Pol was there herself, fractionally to one side
as if to emphasise her role as an observer only; strange that she did
not remember making a conscious decision to stand so.  But it was the
man on the far side of the group who drew her attention.  Younger even
than she remembered him, dark blond hair slicked severely back,
expression arrogant and hostile as it always was in official
photographs, Enterprise's chief engineer stared straight through her
and T'Pol felt her body react in the familiar, long denied and so very
unwelcome way.  But no more after today.  Today she was here to
consign memories to the past where they belonged, so that she could be
at peace with herself again and content with the life she had chosen.

Behind her the door opened and she turned slowly, gracefully, head
high; and he was standing across the room from her and she had been
wrong, so wrong, because ten years had not been enough time to turn
him into someone she did not love, human and frail and short-lived as
he was.

"T'Pol?"  Tucker's eyes were narrowed in disbelief and T'Pol strove to
breathe evenly as a familiar grin started to form.  "My God, it's
really you!  What the hell are you doing here?"

"There is a conference on micro-singularities to be held in this city
in a few days' time."  She hoped his memory would not be acute enough
for him to recognise that she could barely speak around the
constriction in her throat.  "I am attending."

The grin was full blown now, the same teasing, challenging one that he
had so often directed at her.  "You're not still chasing those
fantasies, are you?"

"It has been my main field of research for many years." 

"Got any proof yet?"

He had always irritated her.  "Not absolute proof, no."

Tucker chuckled and finally started to move towards her and T'Pol
concluded a little wildly that if he touched her she would not be
answerable for her actions.  She was saved from the test as the door
opened again and the yeoman stuck her head in.

"Sir?  Admiral M'Benga says he'll see you now."

"Hell!"  Tucker swung round to face the girl.  "You sure he said now?"

"Actually, commander, he said ‘immediately'."

"Hell," he said again and turned back to T'Pol.  "Sorry, I really
gotta go.  Look, we're going to the beach tomorrow.  You wanna come
along?  We can talk while the kids wear themselves out."

"That will not be necessary.  Goodbye, Commander Tucker."

"Excuse me?  Ten years and all you can say is ‘hello' and ‘goodbye'? 
Don't be crazy."

T'Pol hesitated.  Her father's plan had not worked but perhaps longer
exposure was necessary.  "My daughter is with me.  I do not know …"

He smiled, bright with pleasure.  "You got one, too?  That's great. 
Bring her along, it'll be fun."

The last time she had had fun was ten years ago on Earth, a few stolen
days with her lover before they had been forced to conclude that they
had no future together.  Perhaps it would be best to go.  She did not
wish T'Pril to see nothing of Earth but the Vulcan consulate and if
she saw Tucker with his wife, the pain might force her to relinquish
her affection.  "Very well."

"Fine.  You staying at the Vulcan consulate here?"

"Yes."

"Pick you up at 1000?"

"We will be ready."

"OK.  See you."

He left at a run and T'Pol drew a steadying breath and became aware
that the yeoman was watching her curiously.  She gave her a grave nod
and left at a decorous pace.  She could wait until she was alone
before allowing herself to grieve.



T'Pril was pleased to see her mother after being left all day at the
crčche attached to the Vulcan consulate where the other children were
all older and therefore more disciplined than she.  She expressed her
pleasure by being extremely naughty and T'Pol did not have the energy
to rebuke her.  She just gave in and allowed the four year old to
climb over the furniture and jump on the bed until she had tired
herself out and was content to be bathed and put to bed, with her
mother to read her a story.  Curled up against the headboard, T'Pril a
warm, comforting weight against her, T'Pol admitted again that she
allowed her daughter far too much licence.  T'Pril was old enough now
for the long process of self-discipline to begin, starting with a
gradual distancing from her mother's presence.  T'Pol knew that it was
her own need that made her cling to her daughter, to cuddle her, to
caress her, but she did not have the strength to stop now.  It would
be soon enough when they returned to Vulcan in a week's time.  She
would take T'Pril on a long visit to the girl's grandmother and let
that formidable lady demonstrate proper child-rearing principals to
her wayward and unsatisfactory daughter.  At least T'Pol's father
would be there to inject some compassion into the process, and if he
failed to mitigate T'Pen's resolve, then he would take his daughter
and granddaughter on long walks where it was not always necessary to
maintain proper discipline.  Her father's quiet but unfailing support
had been one of the few consolations of the last years.  It had even
been Branek who suggested that T'Pol make this journey and the fact
that his advice had been misguided was not his fault.  She too had
badly misjudged.

T'Pril fell asleep at last and T'Pol stayed for a few moments more,
stroking the child's soft hair, then wandered into the Spartan sitting
room.  Trying to sleep herself would be pointless.  Dreams would
plague her that would only make the next day harder to endure, dreams
of being loved by a blue-eyed man who could make her cry out with
pleasure at his touch.  She would spend the night in meditation,
strengthening her controls, and trust that they would not fail her. 
She might have little left but pride, but hopefully that would sustain
her, force her to hide the fact that she still had entirely
inappropriate feelings towards Tucker.  But first, a small period of
quiet despair.

T'Pol took the window seat, curling her legs under her, leaning her
aching forehead against the cool surface of the window.  Where had it
all gone so horribly wrong?  They had made the right decision, she and
Charles.  They could not have stayed together indefinitely. 
Enterprise was the only place where they could be lovers and even that
haven had been destroyed when knowledge of their affaire became
public.  If she had tried to live on Earth or he on Vulcan they would
rapidly have torn themselves apart or been estranged from both their
families.  They had weighed the cost and found the price of their love
too high to pay and so they had parted, in grief but without
bitterness, thinking it best to let love die gracefully than to end in
pain and bitter arguments.

For Tucker it appeared to have worked.  He had married barely a year
later and she had detected no sign of distress when he had seen her
again, just the pleasant surprise of meeting an old friend.  She had
married too, of course, a widower whose wife had been killed when her
survey ship was destroyed in a warp core breach.  T'Pen had made the
arrangements but T'Pol had had no objection.  She knew Stolas, a
research chemist, a quiet courteous man who did not object to his
bride's unsavoury past.  They had married at once and shared a house
although not a bed.  Stolas had declined T'Pol's suggestion of
intimacy until his pon farr and she had accepted his decision with
only slight regret.  It would have been pleasant to have companionship
late at night and in the mornings but it was far from necessary. 
Their life together had progressed calmly and Stolas' courtesy had
never faltered but it had not seemed to T'Pol that they grew to know
each other.  Her mother had told her not to be foolish when she had
mentioned the fact and so she had continued with her research and had
polite conversations with her husband and had never once forgotten to
meditate.  Then the time of Stolas' pon farr had approached and T'Pol
had mentioned children.  He had seemed a little surprised but had said
that it was her choice so she had visited a doctor to do all she could
to ensure conception and had waited with some anticipation for Stolas
to be ready.  But when he entered his time of madness and his fever
infected her, releasing her controls, it was not her husband's name
she had cried out as he took her.

T'Pol had not been so lost in lust that she did not realise what she
had done, but she had hoped that Stolas would not have noticed her
lapse.  He had, however, and was politely furious, claiming that he
had been grossly misled when agreeing to their joining.  Their
marriage had been dissolved even though T'Pol already knew that she
was pregnant, and the bond between them severed.  She barely noticed
the difference; Stolas' emotions had been so tightly disciplined that
they had not affected her as another's once had, although it did make
her wonder what he had thought of hers.

T'Pen had threatened to disown a daughter who would never find another
husband with both a human lover and a failed marriage behind her. 
Branek had refused to take such a step, however, so T'Pol had not been
totally alone, but it had been a bad year, the one she spent carrying
T'Pril.  Stolas' pon farr had forced her to recognise that she had by
no means ceased to care for Tucker despite the five years that had
passed.  She missed him dreadfully, even more than in the first days
of their separation and the hormonal changes of pregnancy degraded her
control of her emotions.  That in turn affected her ability to work
and so took away the one source of distraction left to her.  A bad
year, but it ended eventually and she had loved T'Pril from the
beginning, even if her first irrational thought on seeing the child
was that she had wanted to bear Tucker's baby.

T'Pol had hoped that T'Pril's birth would allow her to regain control
of her emotions and once again permit her to start the long process of
denying her affection for Tucker, but it had not worked out like that.
 Superficially, she was calm again, able to show to the world the
poise and distance suitable to a woman of her rank, but she could not
deny Tucker's claim on her affections.  In her more rational moments,
she wondered if it was her excusable love for T'Pril that made the
other, forbidden feelings so much harder to suppress.  She was lonely
because no Vulcan would attempt friendship with a woman so disgraced
and T'Pril was not old enough to offer companionship and no lapse of
time seemed to stop her missing Tucker.  Before T'Pril's conception,
T'Pol had never once missed her daily meditation, sometimes continuing
through the night if she felt at all unsettled.  Afterwards, on the
bad days, she went to bed without meditating, knowing that she would
dream.  It didn't help because she only awoke crying out for him,
reaching for a cool human body that wasn't there, but sometimes the
urge was too strong to resist.

So it went on for four years until finally her father took her for one
of the long walks that had characterised their relationship ever since
her childhood.  They walked for kilometres in companionable silence,
following the edge of a wadi that climbed gradually behind their
hometown, eventually halting at a point where they could view the
settlement spread out below them.  Branek seated himself on his usual
rock and took a sip of water.  "I have heard, daughter, that you have
been invited to attend a conference on Earth."

"I have declined."

"It is an honour."

"Not one I chose to accept."

"Because it is on Earth."  It was not a question but T'Pol answered
anyway because Branek was her father and she tried to be a dutiful
daughter.

"I renounced all interaction with humans many years ago."

"Not entirely accurate.  You terminated your service on the Earth
vessel and your relationship with Commander Tucker.  You did not
foreswear all contact with humans."

"I do not wish to attend."

"I believe that you should."

"I …"

He turned to face her for the first time.  "Hear me out, daughter." 
He paused briefly to be sure he had her attention.  "T'Pol, you cannot
continue as you are.  Your behaviour begins to give even me cause for
concern and I do not want T'Pril to suffer because her mother regrets
a decision she made in good faith."

"I do not …  Regret is an emotion I do not experience."

"You lie.  It is becoming obvious that there are many emotions you
experience.  T'Pol, take this opportunity, go to Earth, visit your
human.  They age swiftly, it is probable that he is very different
from the man you remember."  He paused again to allow her to comment
but she could not.  "I know no other cure for your sorrow, T'Pol, than
a harsh dose of reality."

In her room in the Vulcan consulate, T'Pol withdrew her blank gaze
from the window and knelt before her meditation lamp.  She had had her
father's dose of reality and it had not helped.  Tucker had aged, yes,
but he was still slim and fit and attractive to her, he still teased
her, was still kind to her and she loved him as much as she ever had. 
Now she just had to survive the next day without him noticing and hope
that it would somehow cure her of her infatuation.



T'Pol ensured that she and T'Pril were waiting outside the Vulcan
consulate well before the appointed time, wanting to be certain that
none of her compatriots knew whom she was meeting.  It did not matter,
of course.  It was a married couple with whom she was to spend the
day, not a human male.  She would behave impeccably towards them,
although her daughter probably would not.  T'Pril was already excited
at the prospect of being outside the walls and she had grown cunning
lately at judging what she could get away with dependant on the
company she kept.  Humans would undoubtedly just encourage her
indiscipline.

The ground car drew up while T'Pril was balancing her way along a low
wall, T'Pol ready to snatch if she fell.  "Hey."  She did snatch then,
to have something in her arms when she saw the woman.

"Commander Tucker."

He shook his head, expression disbelieving even as his mouth pulled
into a smile.  "It's sure gonna be a long day if you're gonna call me
that."  He slipped out of the car and came over, smiling at T'Pril. 
"What's your name, honey?"

It was a good thing that the child was capable of answering simple
questions because T'Pol could not have spoken.  He'd asked the
question in Vulcan, guessing her daughter was too young to be
bilingual, but the endearment had been in English, just as he had
always addressed her, with the unique mangling of an old and
respectful language.

"Well, T'Pril, why don't you come and meet my two?"

T'Pol moved perforce to the rear door he was holding open for her;
this had been such a bad idea.  She drew a steadying breath and
slipped inside.  She was Vulcan, no one would know how much it cost to
keep her expression smooth.  When she raised her eyes to look around,
there were only two pairs of blue eyes watching curiously over the
back of the front seat, both topped by fair hair bleached fairer by
the sun.  Tucker closed her door and hopped into the front.  "That's
Katie," he indicated the girl, "and this," he ruffled the hair of the
boy who was nearest him, "is Charlie.  Kids, this is T'Pol and her
daughter T'Pril.  You both be real polite, now, or she'll think I'm
bringing you up to be as bad as me."

"How do you do?" the girl asked politely then frowned.  "Do you speak
English?"

"Of course she does, stupid," her brother said disparagingly.  "She
was on Enterprise."

"They might have spoken on Vulcan on Enterprise.  Dad, did …?"

"We spoke English," Tucker said firmly as he pulled the car away, "and
T'Pol speaks it better than me, but I think T'Pril might need you to
try out your Vulcan."

Katie poked her brother sharply.  "So I'll have to talk to her.  You
don't know any Vulcan."

"I do too!  We've been learning it since term started."

"Enough!"  Tucker glanced quickly behind him at T'Pol, grinning.  "You
think you can cope with three Tuckers, T'Pol?"

"I do not know," and that was more truthful than usual.  At least
three had to be easier than four.  T'Pril had huddled against her
mother at the sight of two more faces she did not know but now
tentatively uncurled herself to peer at the other children watching
her.

"Hello, T'Pril."  Katie proved that she knew that much Vulcan.  "You
are very ascetically pleasing."

Tucker hooted with laughter.  "Beautiful, Katie, that's the word you
want.  Just like her mom," and T'Pol died a little more.  That was
certainly not the remark of a man who felt the slightest embarrassment
at meeting a former lover again.



By the time they reached their destination, the human children had
grown bored with having two mostly silent guests in their car even if
they were aliens, and were talking almost non-stop to their father and
to each other, leaving T'Pol the opportunity to compose herself.  Not
that it was easy when she had an excellent view of Tucker's profile
when he turned to laugh at the children, could watch the muscles shift
in his forearm as he operated the vehicle's controls, remember how it
felt to run her fingers through his hair, bleached fairer now than it
had been on Enterprise and possibly silvering at the temples.  And he
was married, more unobtainable than he had ever been, and she wanted
him so badly that she was not sure that her lifetime of restraint was
adequate for the task ahead of her.

T'Pril's eyes grew huge at her first sight of the expanse of ocean and
she clung rather harder than normal to her mother, but the other two
children had no such inhibitions, tumbling out of the car and pausing
only briefly to grab the bags Tucker threw at them before sprinting
off across the sand.  He slung a couple more bags over a shoulder and
picked up an insulated container.  "Away teams had less gear than
this."  He nodded at the small bag T'Pol carried.  "You get off
lightly."

"T'Pril's needs are modest."  He made a rueful grimace and started
after his own children.  T'Pol followed, striving to remain on neutral
territory.  "You allow your children to wander unsupervised?"

"They know not to go far and Earth's safe.  No wild animals around
here, no psychotic pollen, no gun wielding …"

"You have made your point."

"Dad!  Hurry up!  We wanna swim."

He jogged the last few metres to where Katie and Charlie had already
shed their outer clothing and were bouncing impatiently.  "Pick your
clothes up or they'll get full of sand and you'll moan."  He shook out
a rug and dumped the bags on top while the children threw their
clothes onto it.  "You'll have to excuse us, T'Pol," his voice was
muffled as he pulled his tee shirt over his head, "but these two'll
never gimme any peace until they've got wet.  Unless you wanna join
us?"

"No."  T'Pol was surprised that she was still capable of speech.  Why
was it that she had to watch Tucker strip in front of her?

He stepped out of his sweatpants leaving just a pair of skin-tight
swimming trunks.  "OK, kids, let's go."

T'Pol sunk to her knees on the rug, her usual pose for meditation but
nothing was further from her mind.  Her body was on fire with lust,
almost like the blood fever, ten years deprivation suddenly catching
up with her.  Oh, but she wanted him!  Wanted to lie on top of his
muscular body, kiss his mouth, hear him gasp when she touched her
tongue to the base of his throat, have him writhe under her when she
pressed her open mouth over his flat stomach, feel him buck upwards
when she took him inside her.  It was perhaps fortunate that there was
no one to see the Vulcan woman rocking herself and her daughter or it
would have dispelled much of the mystique surrounding that
proverbially stoic people.

By the time the swimmers returned, T'Pol had managed to regain control
of her rebellious body and was helping T'Pril collect shells, grouping
them by colour and practising mathematics.  She kept her eyes firmly
on her task even though – especially so – she knew that Tucker was
only a metre away, still mostly naked, supervising the drying process
of his children.  She knew how he looked when wet, how drops of water
ran over his skin, clung to the fine hairs on his chest, knew how it
felt to rub her wet flesh against his.  A shell snapped between her
fingers and she started at the brief pain, seeing blood dripping from
a cut; she'd bled the first time Tucker had taken her.

"You wanna be careful."  His voice was friendly.  "Some of those
things can be real sharp."

"Indeed."  T'Pol extracted a tissue from T'Pril's bag to deal with the
cut, knowing that years before Tucker would have done it for her, even
though she had been as capable then as now of looking after herself.

"Dad, can we have lunch now?"  The boy Charlie was poking hopefully at
the insulated bag and Tucker swatted his hand away.

"No way.  Too early."

"I'm bored."

Tucker sank down onto the rug; he had at least put on his tee shirt. 
"Already?  Go build a sand castle."

"Come help?"

"Too old.  Why don't you and Katie show T'Pril how to build a castle? 
I bet she's never done that before."

"OK."  With an uncomplicated friendliness much like his father's, the
boy held out a hand.  "C'mon, T'Pril."

The little girl looked curiously back then up at her mother, who
looked doubtfully and instinctively at Tucker.  "She'll be OK," he
said easily.  "They're only gonna go a few metres away."

"Go with Charlie, T'Pril.  He will show you how to construct a
building of sand."  Put like that it did not sound a particularly good
learning activity but the child was already trotting away between the
human youngsters.  Surely a single day could not cause harm.

"They'll look after her," Tucker added reassuringly.  "They're used to
little ones.  Too many damn kids in my family."

T'Pol risked a longer look.  He had stretched out on his side so that
he could keep watch on the children, facing away from her so that all
she could see were the muscles in one arm and a pair of long legs. 
"Your wife was unable to join you today?"  She was proud of the cool
tone.

"Today, yesterday, last year.  My marriage went bust just like every
other relationship that ever meant a damn."  He shrugged, throwing
T'Pol a grin that mocked himself.  "Natalie walked out five years ago.
 Said she thought being married to a Starfleet officer would be more
exciting.  Dunno what she expected.  Not someone who wanted to stay
home and play with the kids, I guess."

"I am sorry."  She wasn't, she had always hated his wife though she
had not even known the woman's name.  She wondered if it was the same
Natalie who had left him once before.  The woman was obviously a fool.

Tucker shrugged again, fortunately unaware of T'Pol's ungracious
thoughts.  "At least she left me Katie and Charlie.  Starfleet have
been pretty good about it, let me schedule my work around school times
and mom'll always have them when I have to go off-planet."

So both of them were raising children alone, although Tucker appeared
to be far more successful than she.  Probably he had plenty of female
help.  With irrational jealousy, T'Pol wondered how many women had
passed through his bed since his marriage ended.  She gave him credit
for remaining faithful whilst he was married, but could not see him
practising restraint since.

"What about you?  Your husband didn't come with you?"

"No."  She didn't say more, not wanting him to wonder if her own
failed marriage was the reason she had come to see him.  It was, of
course, but she had often not told him the full truth.

The three children returned at that moment and T'Pol stared in horror
at her sand-caked daughter, glaring at Tucker as he laughed and tossed
her a towel.  "It'll brush off."

It did although T'Pril showed T'Pol to be a very poor mother because
instead of standing obediently still the little girl insisted on
rolling around on the rug, waving her arms and legs.  T'Pol stared
down at her in despair.  "T'Pril, desist!  Your behaviour is
unseemly."  Usually when she spoke firmly, the child responded but she
had been much confined both on board the transport from Vulcan and at
the consulate and the sudden freedom had made her over-excited. 
"T'Pril!"

She rolled right off the rug into the sand again and before T'Pol
could snatch her up, Tucker, who was closer, scooped the child up to
sit on his own lap, an arm around her middle.  "That's enough, honey."
 His tone was as officer's giving an order.  "You're upsetting your
mother."  T'Pril wriggled once more, turning to stare up at him, but
subsided with a pout when he shook his head at her.  "That's better. 
Close you eyes."  The latter was in Vulcan and she obeyed while he
brushed the sand out of her hair and wiped her face, watching him
curiously as he cleaned her hands. "What are you looking at?"

"Your ears."

Tucker grinned.  "Yeah, I didn't get those cute pointy ones."  He
didn't try to put that into Vulcan, just flicked her nose with a
gentle finger and set her on the rug so that he could pull the
container of food over.  "Who's hungry?"

T'Pol hid her reaction by searching in her own bag for T'Pril's food. 
Tucker had always been good with children and the young of most
species reacted similarly.  In fact, she had often observed that her
daughter responded more obediently to strangers than to people with
whom she was familiar.  It just hurt to see T'Pril sitting in Tucker's
lap, allowing him to clean her.  There were days when T'Pril was a
little too much to cope with and having someone with whom to share … 
"T'Pril, come here, please."  The child was peering into the bag
containing the human food, from which Katie and Charlie had already
extracted sandwiches, and stayed where she was.  "T'Pril!"

Tucker gave her a banana and a gentle shove towards her mother and she
eventually came to T'Pol's side, clutching her prize and asking what
it was.  "It is a banana, an Earth fruit.  T'Pril, you must do as you
are instructed.  We are strangers here and must act with dignity. 
Once you have eaten, we will perform some of your exercises."

Her daughter pouted, shook her head at the nutritionally balanced
selection of Vulcan vegetables and brandished her banana.  "I wish to
eat this, mother."

"T'Pril, please do not disagree with me.  These vegetables are
suitable for your dietary requirements."

"I wish to eat this."

"Sorry," Tucker said ruefully.  "I didn't mean to cause an argument."

"She should do as instructed."

"They can be stubborn little brats.  Tell her she can have her banana
if she eats her vegetables first."

"I do not approve of bribery."

"Well, logic sure isn't gonna work.  Bananas have pretty much all the
nutrients she needs."

T'Pol gave in.  This was the worst day of her life and fighting her
daughter as well as herself was one thing too many.  She broke half
the banana into the box of vegetables and handed it over.  "No,
T'Pril!"  The child had started to reach into the box.  "With a fork."

There were a few minutes silence while four of the party eat steadily
and T'Pol performed a few exercises of her own then Tucker asked
suddenly, "You not eating, T'Pol?"

"I am not hungry."  It had not actually occurred to her to bring food
for herself.  Since arriving on Earth her always erratic appetite had
deserted her.

"We've got plenty of salad.  Katie's vegetarian."

"You must find that a trial."

"You're telling me!  She nags worse than you used to."

Once more that casual reference to their shared past, so casual that
T'Pol assumed it had to relate to the friendship they had developed
before they became lovers.  She had always valued Tucker's friendship.
 She could not have her lover back but perhaps friendship would be
possible – if she could trust herself.

"Salad?"  She shook her head and Tucker frowned.  "You ought to eat." 
He had always felt the need to force food upon her.  "You're too
thin."

"My health is unaffected."  Her doctor had advised her to eat
regularly but it was often too much trouble.  T'Pril saved her from
further questioning by demanding the other half of her banana.



Tucker firmly denied his children's request to swim again after lunch
so they all went for a walk.  T'Pol walked, anyway.  Katie and Charlie
spent their time playing tag or shuttling backwards and forwards
between the edge of the sea and the adults, T'Pril jogged at her
mother's side or demanded to be carried, and Tucker spent at least
half the time chasing his children.  The rest he spent at T'Pol's
side, talking easily about his work, asking about hers, sometimes
taking T'Pril from her.  The little girl evidently liked the first
human she had met.  T'Pol could not blame her, she liked Tucker
herself and being jealous of her daughter because she had the man's
arms around her was ridiculous.  She concentrated on conversation,
trying to repress lustful thoughts, unfortunately reminded that she
had always found Tucker an entertaining companion.  It was a long time
since she had had the opportunity to speak of her work to anyone but a
fellow specialist and their disciplines had always overlapped
sufficiently to allow intelligent debate between them.  It was also
interesting to hear of Starfleet's current aspirations and to secretly
admire the progress humanity was making.  But however hard T'Pol
concentrated, the intellectual gratification was not sufficient
defence against the ache of longing for more than friendship from
Tucker and the sure knowledge that he did not feel the same.  He kept
a decorous distance between them at all times and in the past that had
been unusual even before they became lovers.  Right from the start of
their acquaintance, Tucker had taken every opportunity to invade her
personal space, initially just to annoy her and then because they had
both enjoyed the growing tension between them.  She knew it was best
that he did not try to touch because she doubted her ability not to
react but she wanted to be touched: to be held tight and loved so that
she wouldn't be alone anymore.  She frowned at the pale sand under her
feet and kissed T'Pril's hair; she was a fool.  The girl wriggled to
be put down again and ran off to inspect a large chunk of driftwood.

"Mother, look, a shell!  A big, big shell."

"That is not a shell, T'Pril.  That is a piece of wood."

"It is a shell.  It is the same colour."

"The wood has been bleached by the sea and the sun, T'Pril.  Observe,
you can see the grains where it grew."

"A shell."  The girl pulled a clamshell from a pocket; T'Pol had not
noticed her daughter collecting samples.  "See, mother, it has
grains," and she traced the ridges on the back of the shell with a
plump finger.

"True," T'Pol admitted wearily, "but a shell is just the calcium
deposit of a living creature.  It does not have life and grow as a
tree does."

The girl gave her a pitying look and ran off, bored with her large
‘shell', and T'Pol glared at the offending piece of wood.  She was a
scientist, a leader in her field, and she found it utterly impossible
to explain simple concepts to her daughter.  Perhaps she was as bad a
mother as her own always told her.

"T'Pol!"  The shout from twenty metres further on drew her attention
and she moved to join the rest who were all together for once, T'Pril
in Tucker's arms again, an arm around his neck.  Like mother, like
daughter.

"What were you looking at?"

"Apparently, a shell."

Tucker grinned, looking down at the brown haired child he was holding,
who looked cheerfully back.  "Be grateful she hasn't got to the ‘why'
stage yet."

"I do not understand."

"Why is it a shell?  Don't tell me Vulcan kids don't do that."

"I do not know."

"Well, you'd better get practising, because I bet this young lady's
gonna do it.  ‘Mommy, why is it a banana?'"

"Because of the genetic code contained within its cellular structure."

"Sorry, T'Pol, that might be correct, but it's not gonna work.  Trust
me on this one."

They were nearly back to the ground car and T'Pol was already aware of
pain because soon now she would have to see Tucker for the last time. 
"How did you address the problem?"

"Kept giving them outrageous answers until they got bored."  He shook
his head ruefully.  "Ask me how a warp engine works and I can tell
you, but the ‘why's got me every time.  Here," he handed T'Pril back
to open the car door for her while the other children scrambled in
unaided and dived into the picnic bag for a snack.  T'Pril took an
interest at once, pulling herself up on the back of the front seat,
reaching out hopefully.

"May I have a banana?"

"Clever girl," Tucker said approvingly for her recollection of the
word, silently asking T'Pol's permission, and at her nod handed one
over.

"Thank you," the girl said and he grinned at her.

"Can you say that in English, T'Pril?  ‘Thank you'."

"Thank you," and she gave him a small but genuine smile back.

Tucker did an impression of a fish.  "Hell!  She smiled at me."

"Daddy," Katie said severely, "you said ‘hell'.  What sort of an
example is that?"

T'Pol smoothed T'Pril's ruffled hair.  "She is young.  Discipline
cannot be learned overnight."

"But how'd she learn if no one ever smiled at her?"  T'Pol avoided his
eyes by studying the top of T'Pril's sandy head.  "She learnt it from
you!"

"And from my father."  She raised her head, suddenly angry.  "She is
my daughter, Charles, and I love her.  It is … excusable."  Why had
she allowed herself to use his personal name?

"You never smiled at me."  Not properly.  Just a suggestion when she
was very sleepy and content.

T'Pol looked away again.  "The cases are not comparable."

"Why'd you call daddy ‘Charles'?"  Charlie's head appeared over the
back of the seat.  "Everyone calls him Trip ‘cos he's the third."

T'Pol swallowed.  "I did not care for the nickname."  Tucker began to
stuff rubbish back into the picnic bag and she hugged T'Pril to her. 
The first hint of some deeper feeling from him and it was hurt.  She
had never given him cause to doubt the depth of her affection.

"Dad," Katie tugged at Tucker's tee shirt, "Charlie's tired."

"I should hope so."  The man looked his son over.  "How else can I get
a quiet evening?  You can go straight to bed when we get home."

"I wanna bath."

"Fine.  Bath then bed."

"Can I have a sandwich in bed?"

"No.  Let's go."

"Commander Tucker," T'Pol kept her voice quiet to hide the pain, "if
your children are tired there is no need to return us to the
consulate.  I believe that Earth's public transport system is adequate
to our needs."

He turned to face her, expression as unreadable as a Vulcan's.  "I'll
take you up on that.  Come back to my place.  You can get transport
from there."


Continued in Part Two

--
Stephen Ratliff
ASC Stories Only Forwarding

In the Pattern Buffer at:
http//trekiverse.crosswinds.net/feed/




Yahoo! Groups Links

To visit your group on the web, go to:http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCL/ 
To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:ASCL-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com 
Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to the Yahoo! Terms of Service.







From ???@??? Thu Jan 15 00:21:52 2004
Status:  U
Return-Path: 
Received: from n27.grp.scd.yahoo.com ([66.218.66.83])
	by penguin (EarthLink SMTP Server) with SMTP id 1aGZYy5ZL3NZFl41
	for ; Wed, 14 Jan 2004 21:23:26 -0800 (PST)
X-eGroups-Return: sentto-1977044-12880-1074144205-stephenbratliff=earthlink.net@returns.groups.yahoo.