Not his day © Xeen september 2003 vignette to "The Xindi" R * Six weeks into the Expanse. Six weeks into the Expanse and all he managed to get was some piece of information at third hand from a slave smuggler, planted on a mining concession in the middle of the a…hole of the unknown universe. What the hell was he thinking? Rejecting Malcolm's cautious but elaborate approach to only get head first into the nice trap that son of a b... had set for him and Trip. The Expanse was not only getting on his nerves but on his abilities to think properly. He took the towel hanging outside the shower. He could not get clean, not even after the fourth shower. Showering was a poor attempt at getting rid of the smell and disgusting sensation of the alien sewage on his body. He could hear himself telling Trip that he was imagining that stuff so he could probably take that piece of good advice for himself. He had succeeded in turning the Enterprise into the Falcon Millenium with no Princess Leia to save. He chuckled picturing immediately some kind of exotic Xindi Counsel, half reptilian, half insectoid. It was not the time to think of all those movies from the past. What was happening was no movie and he was beginning to get tired of having his priorities postponed. I took a boxer short and a t-shirt out of the next drawer and tried to come at peace with himself. At least, the bad guy of the day had taken the full drubbing treatment and major Hayes' men had proven to be quite efficient. But he was blaming himself for harassing Malcolm on a daily basis. Malcolm who has taken the risk to rescue their - again- abducted party. Things did not seem to be on the verge of changing, even into the expanse. He sighed deeply and cast a look at Porthos. The small dog was sound asleep. Maybe he could do the same and get some needed rest. But first of all, I wanted to apologize to T'Pol. Thanks to her swift decision, they had managed to be released with no casualties but the Xindi slave, getting some priceless coordinates to go to in the process. He hardly acknowledge her presence when the left the launch bay. Not that she was expecting any praise or remarks from him. He simply wanted to thank her for being here with him on Enterprise. He put on his sweat pants and left his quarters on his bare feet. On the way to her quarters, he indulged himself in daydreaming. He liked the new look of her. She was turning into a more real Vulcan to his eyes even if her new hairdo and clothes made her look softer. He had noticed that she was far more relaxed than before resigning her commission and he was beginning to doubt the insensitivity of the Vulcan mind. Maybe their human flaws were rubbing on her. He just wished he would not blow his chance to romance her. After all, she stayed because he needed her. Maybe the time was right to word his feeling. He turned the corner almost ready to declare. Stopped dead in his tracks. Coming out of T'Pol's quarters was Trip, his t-shirt rolled on his shoulder, with only his sweat pants and sneakers on, bliss written all over his face. So much for a Captain's romantic interlude with his 2IC. She clearly showed off her preference. Was *that* what she meant when she had said that she was needed aboard? He had been clearly misled by her words. At least he had not been fool enough to talk to her. He shook in head in disdain. It was not his day, not even his month, not even his year. He decided against going to sickbay to ask Phlox for a sedative and walked back to his quarters. tbc in No Wonder Included |
 |
 |
| Star Trek appartient à UPN/Paramount Star Trek and all items related are trademarks Paramount No copyright infringement intended |
 |