She was afraid when he dismissed everyone but her. She was afraid when he pressed the phase rifle to her throat. She was afraid when she left her back open to follow his dismissal. It wasn't until she was safe back in quarters she'd taken for her own that T'Pol allowed herself to lean against the wall and breathe. She wasn't supposed to be afraid. She was Vulcan, she was a master of her emotions.
She was terrified.
Eyes closed, T'Pol pressed her forehead against the cool metal of the wall and shivered. It was too cold in here - but then, it was made for a human occupant, whose body was much more accustomed to the cold. Cold was something she'd come to live with aboard the Enterprise - something she'd been forced to grow accustomed to since leaving Vulcan
( ... )
A sharing of minds made lying difficult; she knew his thoughts, and he knew hers. There was a bond of sorts - not the bond, the one that could develop between two mates on Vulcan - but a sort of residue was left, something left over from his mind.
The room is full of warm bodies, warm voices, many species interacting warmly. Not quite in the center, but certainly immersed in the socialization stood T'Pol. This was not the first occasion she had been forced to attend large crowds for the sake of politics, but as with all the others, she remembered the first: bare months after accepting Soval's offer to rejoin Vulcan's political ranks as an ambassador. Bare months after the signing of the Coalition. After Trip's death.
T'Pol reached out to pluck a glass of water from a passing waiter, holding it tightly. She was careful not to break the glass, careful not to draw any more attention to herself. Soval was the only other Vulcan present, and he stood somewhere across the room. It reminded her abruptly of her first days on the Enterprise, knowing the only non-human aboard was unlikely to understand her any better. Forty-eight hours of attempted handshakes and curt words that had been uttered in place of knowing the appropriate thing to say. T'Pol had learned then what it was to be
( ... )
They were stranded. Enterprise had been forced to leave orbit, pursued by the inhabitants of the planet she know found herself stranded on. To avoid the people that had driven their ship away, they had retreated - they had fled - judging survival more likely in the wilds of the countryside than the 'civilization' of the towns they'd first arrived in.
She counted every mistake, every flouted step in how they had conducted themselves. Every misconception that led to this moment. She wanted to blame someone, but could not; logic had been tossed aside by all parties involved. Perhaps even by herself.
They found a cave system to spend the night hiding in, hoping that Enterprise would be back in that time. And if it was not - he said they would figure that out when the time came. She was already formulating plans, trying not to resent his untouchable faith - something she could not reproduce. The rain had started an hour ago, light, with rolling fog and wind. It brought strange, conflicting memories of the night she'd left the Vulcan
( ... )
She still didn't believe him, and his platitudes bothered her. The fastest way to silence him, when she heard him draw in his next deep breath, was to lift her head and kiss him, hand settling on his cheek. It lasted, neither willing or ready to let go of that small comfort. When they did part, T'Pol remained close, allowed her fingers to trial along his skin. "We will survive." It wasn't a platitude. It wasn't empty. Whether the Enterprise returned or not, they would live. It was not in their natures to give up. She leaned into him again, and they slept like that, around the fire, pressed close to share body warmth. They'd survive.
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She was afraid when he dismissed everyone but her. She was afraid when he pressed the phase rifle to her throat. She was afraid when she left her back open to follow his dismissal. It wasn't until she was safe back in quarters she'd taken for her own that T'Pol allowed herself to lean against the wall and breathe. She wasn't supposed to be afraid. She was Vulcan, she was a master of her emotions.
She was terrified.
Eyes closed, T'Pol pressed her forehead against the cool metal of the wall and shivered. It was too cold in here - but then, it was made for a human occupant, whose body was much more accustomed to the cold. Cold was something she'd come to live with aboard the Enterprise - something she'd been forced to grow accustomed to since leaving Vulcan ( ... )
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A sharing of minds made lying difficult; she knew his thoughts, and he knew hers. There was a bond of sorts - not the bond, the one that could develop between two mates on Vulcan - but a sort of residue was left, something left over from his mind.
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T'Pol reached out to pluck a glass of water from a passing waiter, holding it tightly. She was careful not to break the glass, careful not to draw any more attention to herself. Soval was the only other Vulcan present, and he stood somewhere across the room. It reminded her abruptly of her first days on the Enterprise, knowing the only non-human aboard was unlikely to understand her any better. Forty-eight hours of attempted handshakes and curt words that had been uttered in place of knowing the appropriate thing to say. T'Pol had learned then what it was to be ( ... )
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She counted every mistake, every flouted step in how they had conducted themselves. Every misconception that led to this moment. She wanted to blame someone, but could not; logic had been tossed aside by all parties involved. Perhaps even by herself.
They found a cave system to spend the night hiding in, hoping that Enterprise would be back in that time. And if it was not - he said they would figure that out when the time came. She was already formulating plans, trying not to resent his untouchable faith - something she could not reproduce. The rain had started an hour ago, light, with rolling fog and wind. It brought strange, conflicting memories of the night she'd left the Vulcan ( ... )
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