How do you feel?

                                                                        ©  Xeen november 2003


This is a response to the Twilight challenge issued on Archer's/Endeavours: write a fanfic based on the episode! It can be anything (a day in the life, a dream, an addition…).

PG 13 (to be on the safe side)
Kind of trying to make proper use of that nice reset button ;o)
The idea is that each time Phlox removes some clusters, the time line is altered. Therefore, Archer is caught in a roller coaster of alternate realities, not to mention nightmarish situations due to the blast of anomaly when he's recovering in sickbay.



*

I am lying on my bed, my head is spinning and I have the funny feeling that this is not the morning shift.
The quiet humming of the starship and Phlox ceaseless babbling… sickbay, I am back to sickbay. At least, the Delphic Expanse seems to have broken the spell: I'm no longer kidnapped each time I'm trying to act nicely to every alien I was so willing to encounter and make friend with; I'm now merely injured with every damned light year. This time, it feels like I've been hit by a train. Wait a minute. I'm not the one who was injured… T'Pol was… She was stuck under that beam… Wasn't she?
"How do you feel?"
The physician's voice startled me. I did not hear him coming next to my biobed. I cautiously open my eyes. He looked tired but everyone looked tired on Enterprise these days. How do I feel? What was it with him? "Like a shuttle pod landed on my head…" *That* sounded lame. I felt nauseous and dizzy and… yes, worried. "Where is T'Pol? What's our status?"
Phlox cleared his throat and made a great show at being busy with his monitors and stuff. "We've cleared the anomalies," he finally said in a high pitched voice -even for him that was. "Commander Tucker informed us that there is minor damage to the nacelle; repairs should be complete within the hour."
That was not Phlox's way. Small talk yes, but no engineering techno babble. Something was wrong, something was very wrong.
The anomaly…
I was in the corridor along with T'Pol. She was behaving like usual, pretending to be too caught up in her scans and whatever personal agenda she had to attend the movie night. I know that was far from clever when I'd asked her out on a date a few months ago. That seemed more likely to have taken place in another life time but ever since she had avoided being present at any other movie night.
Except for the one she attended with Trip.
I closed my eyes again. For some mysterious reasons, the thought was very unpleasant.
"You suffered a mild concussion."
I nodded, not really paying attention to Phlox. Mild? I was a mess. I needed some action. I sat in the bed and turned my legs to stand up. Time to get back to business.
Phlox stepped up in front of me and put a hand on my arm. "I'd like to keep you over night for observation." His face was pale and stern and I would have sworn that he was trying hard to conceal something from me. Was it the ship? Maybe the damages were beyond repair…
"All right doc."
Avoiding further scrutiny, he turned his back on me. "You could have been seriously injured," he mumbled.
"Yes, I know. T'Pol told me to leave her behind. Fortunately, I don't take orders from her," I chuckled, putting my legs back on the bed and my arms behind my head. "I guess I will have to do without 'Rosemary's Baby'…"
A deafening silence was his only answer. Still staring at his back, I suddenly came to an epiphany. T'Pol should have been here standing near my bed. She always was, feasting over my bruised body and ego.
Well, she often was -near my bed, I mean. My thoughts were confused. When did he give me that hypospray?
"I understand you wanted to see it?" asked Phlox.
"Rosemary's Baby?"
"You were obviously looking forward to that night but I'm afraid it might have been cancelled."
"We took heavy damage?" I was barely audible even to myself but somehow, Phlox did hear me all right. He sighed and crossed his hands on his swollen belly. "I guess there is no easy way to put it. Captain, I am sorry but Sub-Com… but T'pol did not make it…"
"…"
"… she was violently cast against the wall. Her neck was broken when she reached sickbay. There was nothing I could possibly have done."
I feel a lump in my throat and a heavy pain in my chest. Maybe I was delusional from the accident and the aftershock and…. I must have passed out.

*

"How do you feel?"
I look up to see T'Pol getting ready to engage in her morning running practice. She is wearing black sweat pants and a tiny tank top… I almost let the weights fall on my chest. "Huh… I… I am fine," I say, barely missing the stands. "You're here early."
That is witty. I feel my ears going warm and probably redder than I feel. She does not seem to acknowledge my rash remark. I sit down and stare blankly at her who starts to run on the treadmill.
"It is 13:00, sir. You have obviously lost track of time."
What ever happened to my lunch? I am not hungry… Sweaty, disoriented, maybe. Hungry? No.
"You seem at loss, captain. I assume you don't recall our last meeting?" she says, turning her head towards me. She increases the speed of her treadmill. She matches the new speed without a wince, her half open mouth tantalizing me.
Déjà vu.
Before the Xindi attack, before the Delphic Expanse.
The anomaly. She was injured.
"I'm glad you're ok."
She scowls and stops the treadmill. She steps down. The next minute, she's kneeling next to me, her dry fresh hand on my thigh, breathing slowly in my face, her eyes locked to mine. I resist the urge to lick my lips and sigh.
"We were supposed to meet here after lunch?" I ask.
Her face lightens a bit and she seems momentarily relieved. "You remember?"
Yes. I remember I was on my way to the bridge and our discussion about the movie night. There was an accident. Yet another tide of anomalies hit the ship.
"Are you all right?" I cannot help asking.
She sighs. "You don't remember, do you? Five months ago, you were infected by an anomaly and ever since you cannot form new long-term memories."
"Five months? Infected?"
"By parasites," she said, clearly avoiding giving me further details.
Five months?? How can it be possible?
"Doctor Phlox is working on a cure but the parasites resist to traditional therapy."
"Ok."
"Everyday after lunch, after you walk Porthos, we meet at the gym."
"Of course," I say enthusiastically. That does not fool her a minute. "I don't remember. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. That is not an issue. Given that we are at the gym, we could practise together. Would you like to spar with me? You have proven to make real progress at Vo'ek-pukan."
"I have?"
She takes my hand gently and drags me to the tatami with the obvious intent of training me to some exotic Vulcan martial art.
"You're wasting your time T'Pol. /That/ is something I can recall. If you tried to teach me something, and I don't have a clue what it can be, by the way, I will probably fail to remember the first thing of it."
She keeps on dragging me and here I finally stand, facing the fierce petite woman. She salutes me and extends her arms; she shouts something in Vulcan. To my utter surprise, my body responds to the injunction and the next minute, we are wrestling as if I did it my entire life. I get enthralled in the process and almost fall when she stops abruptly, the minute she hears the tactical alarm.
All the fun is gone from her eyes when she answers. "T'Pol to the bridge."
"Captain, we're under attack," says Hoshi.
"On my way." She turns to me. "Please, take care of the children and stay away from the bridge."
I nod. "Captain? What else did I miss?" Something inside me is screaming 'whose children'?
She nods back. "I'm sorry…I will explain later."
"You will…"
She's gone.
I am sure she will. I remember I can trust her with my life.

*

"How do you feel, Jonathan?"
I hesitate in the doorway and walk in. I have absolutely no recollection of the place. White and grey, bright living room, I have never seen before. Whatever happened last night at the movie is lost to me.
T'Pol is staring at me, something that resembles a knitting work in progress on her legs. She is wearing a purple outfit, like a loose dress and an amazing necklace made out of a single shimmering stone. She seems older and yet so very young. More mature with a sweetness I am not used to.
I sack down on the coach next to her.
"Where are we?" My eyes wander on the weird walls and the port-hole like windows. Outside that is not space but a collection of arid hills and spare tundra.
"Home" she says, and she puts a light hand on mine. It is fresh and dry and all right. She bends over to me and kisses the corner of my mouth. "I promise I will explain everything. Did you sleep well?"
"Yes." I feel quiet, rested and different. Then it hits me. My shoulders start to melt and my jaw drops to the floor.
T'Pol just kissed me. It felt so natural that I did not even notice it in the first place.
She is looking at me intently. "What's the last thing you remember?"
Good question.
"I was walking down a corridor on Enterprise -with you. We were heading to the bridge and we were arguing about Trip's movie night."
"Do you remember what happened then?" She resumes her knitting, her eyes never leaving mine. The clinking of the needles is sort of ringing a bell.
"Did we make it to the bridge?"
I nod. "The ship went through an anomaly and the corridor collapsed. You got stuck under a beam. I released you but I did not make it to cover in time and took the full blast."
She sits her work on a tea table and quietly turns to me. She takes my hand in hers. "This will be difficult for you to accept but that was five years ago. Would you like me to give you breakfast now?"
I childishly pinch my arm and bite my tongue to make sure I am really awake. Some blood spills on my chin and shirt. She sighs.
"Jonathan!" She vaguely sounds like Aunt Millie. She hands me a handkerchief and pats me on the shoulder. "You're so emotional today…"
The door chime stops me from asking for some immediate answers.
"Please, go and get it, Jonathan."
"Are we expecting visitors?" I ask her dryly under the painful impression of acting in a sitcom. As I come to the door, she pours some boiling water in the teapot and turns her back to me. Except for her hair and her weird clothes, she had not changed a bit. Five years? Come on!
"Hello pink skin!" says the Andorian I just opened my door to. "It's been a while. It seems that I'm right in time for breakfast…"
"Shran?!"
"Who else?" he struts around. "See… I remembered."
That makes one of us. What the hell is Shran doing in my "house"?
"I did not beam in this time," he explains with a wink, "My dear, I'm so glad to see you," he adds, strolling to the kitchen, "you look absolutely ravishing this morning!"
The next minute, he's hugging T'Pol in a tight embrace.

So Earth is gone…
If it was not for General Shran and people like Trip and T'Pol, the human race would be extinct. I have to admit that even if I always had a soft spot for the Andorian, watching him hitting on T'Pol and bragging about his rising personal star on his home world is a bit unnerving to say the least.
To learn that his buddies are around patrolling the sector along with Vulcans to keep our small colony safe… well, I cannot begin to come up with an opinion about it.
The worst part is that I seem to have been reliving 'my' first day after the blast over and over again for these last five years. I don't have a clue of any events that took place during the all time. I can't even imagine what it has been like to T'Pol to give up everything that was important to her to take care of her human former captain on that remote world.
Does she serve me the same story every day?
What else did she tell me that I cannot even imagine she told me already?
My god. This is overwhelming. No wonder that my hair turned grey. Thank god her Vulcan strength allows her to elude the insanity of the situation.
Tomorrow, she shall start all over again and I will question her better judgement… again.
The two of them are finished with washing the dishes and I see from that thin line in the middle of her forehead that she is running out of being polite to the blue guy.
"No. I would not," she answers firmly, sitting close to me. My arm naturally falls on her shoulders and encircles her. She cuddles against me, her head resting on my chest. "I have no intention of leaving Ceti Alpha V."
"Say that you don't want to leave *him*," he pushes with a wince.
"You are right. I would rather stay here with Jonathan."
Shran was about to sit down but he decides against it and begins pacing, his arms locked in his back. "I believe we had an agreement, little Vulcan female."
"Yes."
"Do you plan to respect this agreement?" he menaces.
"Eventually."
I feel her body stiffen while she utters a silent sigh.
"You… Vulcans!" he hissed, coming dangerously near us.
"When Jonathan has come to complete recovery, I will join you on Andor and will become your science advisor –as agreed."
Shran sacks down on a low chair, facing us.  "You know he will not, don't you?"
"Hey! I'm right here! I may be suffering from mild amnesia but still I'm not retarded!"
T'Pol puts her hand on my thigh.
/hush, Jonathan/
Was that in my head ?
"He will," she states stubbornly.
"I give up!" chuckles Shran. "Why don't you take your pink skin lover along with you on Andor?"
Lover? Is he joking or…
She did kiss me though.
I can hear her voice in my head.
She's right in my arms at this very moment.
Lover?
I can live with it.
"He needs peace and meditation."
And some updates on the situation.
"You don't want to be seen with Archer. That is the point, little Vulcan female."
Her chin darts and I know she wants to hurt him back, but she does not grant him the satisfaction of responding.
"I guess our little brunch is over then."
With that, he beams out.
T'Pol cuddles closer to me.
"Would you like some more tea, Jonathan?"
"I kind of have something else in mind."
I lift her in my arms. She willingly puts her hands around my neck.
"Isn't it awfully early Jonathan?" is her only protest.
I'm hoping she's wrong and that I will remember tomorrow.

*

"How do you feel?"
What the hell is Phlox doing in my quarters?
My head is pounding. I have no memory of getting drunk with Trip last night after the movie so I must have to be ready to cope with a very serious hangover.
"Like a shuttle pod landed on my head" I blink. Violent bluish light. *That* is sickbay, not my quarters!
The anomaly.
T'Pol…
She held out her hand to me but I couldn't catch it.
I look around in an attempt to spot her. She is not anywhere in sight. She's probably asleep on another bio bed.
"…. What's our status?" I say, trying to get seated. If only that bed could stop moving around.
"We've cleared the anomalies, cap'n. There's minor damage to the nacelle; repairs should be complete within the hour. My team is working double shift," Trip says, uncomfortably swaying on his feet. He's acting strangely by the book, embarrassed and worried.
I impulsively touch my face but everything seems to be in the right place.
It must be the ship. My guess is that it took heavy damage and Tucker is trying to spare me. We're stranded for good in the Delphic Expanse and Trip doesn't know how to speak out the awful truth. He understands there is absolutely no way I will ever come to letting him use that damned Trellium-D. We went through this argument already. I will *never* be prepared to sacrifice my science officer on the altar of revenge.
I am going to go and see the damage for myself but I find Phlox in my way. He pushes me back on the bed.
"You suffered a mild concussion. I'd like to keep you over night for observation."
"All right doc." Being the perfect patient always works its way with Phlox and I need some straight answers. Now.
"You could have been seriously injured," adds Phlox.
"I'm sure T'Pol told ya to leave her behind…" Trip is obviously reluctant to get to the point. What is it? The engine? The nacelles?
"Fortunately, I don't take orders from my science officer," I joke. "Don't tell me we are going to pass up on 'Rosemary's Baby'! I'm sure that T'Pol will love it: nothing like some evil shivers to spice up a lousy evening in the Expanse."
"You are obviously looking forward to it," says Trip with a quick look to Phlox. The doctor nods and steps back.
Oh my god.
That is bad.
"T'Pol is not going to be able to attend to the movie night, Jon."
"She did not change her mind, did she?"
His head drops to his chest. "Listen, I don't know any other way to say it Jon. She died."
I try to recall what happened in that corridor. "No... I lifted the beam… She was not even injured!!"
Denial is my friend.
He nods. "Maybe she was not at that time. She took the full blast of the anomaly to protect ya."
I can sense he's blaming me for her injuries. He's grown very fond of her over the last months. I heard they even were involved in some Vulcan medical practice. Something I prefer to know nothing about. I have my reasons.
"When the rescue team reached ya, it was too late. I'm sorry Jon. I know ya…"
I wave at him, trying to catch my breath as if I was punched directly in the chest. "I took the blast, Trip! I tried to catch her hand but she was out of reach. I am the one who took the blast…" Phlox hurries back to my bed and I feel the cold hiss of the hypo-spray on my neck and then he is gone.
My body goes numb.
Why? Why am I unable to remember?
"You passed out Jon," my friend explains.
I was not conscious. *That* is not good enough. "Where is she?" I have to see her. No one will stop me from seeing her.
He nods again. "Maybe… it's not such a good idea. Ya know, we 'ave no beauty mortician on board, ya know…" he trailed, staying put in my way.
I close my eyes. That Ossarian guy had warned me: spatial distortion could cause major damage to people as well as ships. Trip's embarrassment is evidence in itself. He doesn't want me to see her.
Oh my god.
"…. Would you turn out the lights?"
"Sure."
"Thanks, Trip," I say. My eyes are stinging. "I am going to rest."
I know he nods again and moves back away from me.
I know he wants to hug me but he eventually leaves.
I know Phlox shows him back to the door and then I give up.
If only I could change the past…

*

"Jonathan…You're up early."
"T'Pol?"
"How do you feel?"
She is in her civvies, wearing a weird pony tail. Are we on some kind of diplomatic mission? That would explain the strange room, alien furniture and bed. The whole place seems to be directly built out of a spaceship junkyard.
"I know this all seems unfamiliar but I can explain everything," she merely states. Call it a coincidence.  She reads my mind. "Sit down… please?"
I hear a touch of impatience in her voice. She seems /human/ today -if it was not for the tips of her ears… not to mention that she looks great in her new red outfit. I've never seen this one before, never seen the wig either. Are we under cover?
"Breakfast is almost ready."
"Breakfast?" What about senior officer privilege? What happened to the captain's mess? What happened to Enterprise? "Are we on an away mission? Where are we?"
I look down at my hands to see bad scratches and bruises. My back and my jaw are aching. I feel more puzzled than ever.
"Jonathan, *please*, sit down."
What's wrong with my first officer today? She is acting protective and motherly, as if I am recovering from something. Maybe that last anomaly was worst than the previous ones. It would explain my wounds.
Did she just call me Jonathan?
"I'll answer all of your questions," she says with that serious look she always displays to cut short any comments. "Today is a very important day. Phlox will be back any minute now."
"Phlox? He left?"
I just saw him in the Command Center a few hours ago. I was looking at long-range scans and he wanted to talk to me about T'Pol's Pan'ar syndrome. He had been working on some promising weeds he found in the Expanse and thought he had come up with yet another miraculous cure.
"Did he find the cure?"
That is her turn to seem confused –and disturbed.
"You remember?"
"Pan'ar syndrome?" I push.
She shakes her head. She looks disappointed. Wait a minute! Isn't 'disappointed' a feeling? What happened to her? "It is time to talk about my condition and yours."
I have a condition?
"I have a great deal to tell you. What's the last thing you remember?"
That does not answer my question but I have the feeling that I am about to have a long day of surprises ahead of me. I sit down in front of scrambled eggs and a strange dish of vegetable.
"We were on our way to the bridge ... you and I," I say, forking what looks like an alien version of sausages. "The anomaly hit me. That must be why I am feeling like I was caught inside a centrifuge or beaten up by Klingons all night."
"Jonathan, this will be difficult for you to accept but that was seven years ago."
I almost choke on my food and the fork bounces down to the floor.
"The anomaly infected you with parasites that prevent you from having new memories after this event.  You weren't beaten by a bunch of demented aliens. I was the one who harmed you."
Okay… Why would T'Pol inflict such a treatment on me? Whatever condition I'm in, it's about time I take my medication… or stop taking it. I'm clearly delusional.
"You're not delusional, Jonathan, you saved my life."
Is she a Suliban? Or yet another alien I've never encounter before? Maybe I'm a prisoner with the Xindi and this is a refined way of torture. She looks pretty real.
"Jonathan, you're not a prisoner. I am real. I have been your caretaker for almost six years now. Please. Calm down."
She touches my arm and I feel like she's infusing me with her Vulcan calm and determinism. She's very real. That tenderness cannot be a delusion. Oh my god, what did happen during those six or more years?
"Have you ever heard of Pon Farr?"
"No. Has it something to do with the Delphic Expanse?" I can hear that my reason is on the verge of breaking in expectation. Earth?
"It has not. We are no longer in the Delphic Expanse."
"What has it got to do with anything then?"
For god's sake, what happened to my ship and to my crew? She's trying to protect me. I failed to protect Earth from the Xindi and killed them in the process… and lost my mind. Suddenly, being here with T'Pol does not seem so appealing.
"We are not used to talk mating rituals with non-Vulcan," she continues, matter-of-factly, "but I owe you an explanation."
It's better be a good one.
Seven years, mating ritual? I admit I fantasize on her for some time but that never went any further than kissing and cuddling her. I'm just having another erotic dream about her, only more elaborate. A man's dream is a man's dream.
"Every seven years, adult Vulcans enter a cycle of mating."
At some point, I'm going to wake up.
"The… Pon Farr?"
"Yes. We either mate or die."
Maybe, she should take her own medication as well.
"I am serious Jonathan."
Does she hear me?
"How did Vulcans manage to hide this from us? I have lived around Vulcans all my life, I'm pretty sure I would have noticed."
"Do you remember I received a letter –on a very personal matter on Enterprise?"
"Huh… the one I asked Trip to take care of?" I was not very proud of our move on that one.
"Yes. I was recalled to Vulcan. The one I was bonded to when I was a child has entered Pon Farr. He needed his mate back. I chose not to leave Enterprise."
"Wait a minute. You said as a child?"
"Yes. I will explain later. I am without a mate since. We moved to this planet seven years ago. I had no choice. We went through this already Jonathan. I assure you that we came to a mutual consent."
"I'm sorry T'Pol but I don't understand."
Her eyelids flutter; she was not expecting that outburst. She pauses.
"You agreed to make love to me so I can live."
"I can do the math T'Pol! You say that I can't remember making love to you because of my …condition?"
"Yes."
No way.
"Why am I covered with bruises from head to toes?" I roll my sleeve up on my arm to show her. I don't have a mirror but I'm pretty sure I have a black eye as well. "I have been engaged in sexual intercourse before and…"
"Vulcan mating has proven to be violent to say the least. I am about the same strength as yours. I took the medication Phlox left me as long as I could. I was aware of this issue since I faced it previously on Enterprise."
"Why can't I remember this either? Was it as after the anomaly turned me into a misfit?"
She sighs again. "No Jonathan. You were kidnapped at the time. Only Charles and Malcolm knew."
"Trip and Malcolm?! How?"
"I tried to seduce them."
She tried to seduce them? Now I'm sure I'm dreaming. "Why didn't Phlox tell me about it at the time I returned to the ship?" I cannot repress a touch of jealousy in my voice.
"Because of patient/doctor privilege. I asked him not to."
She stands up and gets a book with a leather cover from a drawer.
"What is it?"
"Your journal. You insisted on keeping it from the very day we settled here. With your permission, I have to get ready."
She puts a light hand on my shoulder and strokes my jaw. My body acknowledges she told me the truth.

"I wish I could have come to visit you with better news. My distinguished colleague from Foktar gave me a very interesting lead to follow. I imagine I will have to put back my ambitions. Be sure that I will come up with a cure eventually, captain."
"I'm not a captain any more, Phlox. Call me Jonathan."
"Old habits," the happy Denobulan states, "you never called me by my first name either!"
"I don't even know your first name...? Do I?"
He shakes his head with energy. "I'm not sure that even Hoshi could pronounce it!" He chuckles.
"I see."
There is an awkward silence.
"Don't you find T'Pol a bit… on the edge?" he finally whispers in my ear. It seems weird since she's currently outside playing with Porthos. Phlox is watching her with a rare intensity. "She's still experiencing difficulties coping with happiness."
Leaving the coach, he puts his medical belongings together.
"Captain, it was a pleasure seeing you both. I expect to be back to you in the near future with better news."
"Thanks doc, but tomorrow I won't even remember you were here."
"That is today that counts," he says with a twist of the mouth. "Take care of T'Pol."
And then it strikes me.
He's right.
Today, I won't make T'Pol's life a living hell. Today, she will be the woman I love.
For there is no tomorrow.

*

"How do you feel?"
Phlox' s head appears over my bed, floating on top of a grey shroud. His face looks distorted and his voice echoes in my ears. Then it takes a spin to it and I'm fully awake -almost fully anyway.
Something is wrong though. Why am I in sickbay?
We lost Earth to the Xindi. I am on Ceti Alpha. We were the last human colony. Something like that old show my great grand father was so keen on. "Galactica" or something. Or was it "Space: 1999"?
Living happily ever after on Ceti Alpha with T'Pol.
That is sickbay.
And Phlox… And T'pol. She changed her hair again.
Again?
Wow! That was some anomaly allright!
"Like a shuttle pod landed on my head…. What's our status?"
Oh man. I was dreaming. I should have known better. Wild sex with my science officer? That anomaly might have been pretty rough on me. Too bad I woke up. Well, I guess I'm back to business.
"We've cleared the anomalies," says my perfect ex-first officer. "There's minor damage to the nacelle; repairs should be complete within the hour."
I should ask Forrest to promote her to Commander or something. She resigned her commission to help us that is the least I can do. She looks nice in a Starfleet uniform.
"You suffered a mild concussion," says Phlox with his usual Cheshire smile. He must be right. Damn… never seen her in a Starfleet uniform. I am totally delusional. "I'd like to keep you over night for observation."
"All right doc." For once I cannot agree more. I am a mess. That dream was pretty hot. I wonder how long I was unconscious. I remember a lot from this dream.
A whole lifetime.
"You could have been seriously injured. I told you to leave me behind."
She seems fine. What happened to her broken ankle?
"Fortunately, I don't take orders from you."
Instead of being uncomfortable at my lame remark, she hands me a PADD with the shadow of a smile and her usual grace. "I believe you wanted to see this?"
"Rosemary's Baby?" It seems I will miss the movie night after all.
"You are obviously looking forward to it and since you are not going to be able to attend tonight…"
Bingo!
"Thanks."
That was bright. Come on, old man, you can come up with better stuff than that even after being crashed by an anomaly…
"Oh… would you mind bringing me another pillow?..."
Man! Come on!
"…. Would you turn out the lights just…" Stop, you're getting on her nerves. Thanks to Vulcan stoicism you will not tell you to get lost.
"Anything else?"
No, that's great! Unless… "You know, you'd make a wonderful nurse. Would you consider tagging along and watching the movie with me? Should I have a relapse, I could use a dedicated caretaker."
She represses a smile. "I will remain then. I would not want you to be at risk in sickbay."
YES!

At the midnight hour, sickbay is some Land of Oz.
I like it that way.
All my little fellows are asleep – most of them actually. That gives me some time to attend to my personal needs, such as writing the great book of interspecies encounters.
Take a look at these two.
They would never admit that they care for each other and still you will find T'Pol asleep in his arms.
You can't see them?
Sorry, it was a figure of speech.
That's what the curtains are made for!

FIN
Star Trek appartient à UPN/Paramount   Star Trek and all items related are trademarks Paramount   No copyright infringement intended