The BLTS Archive- Here's Looking At You Kid
by Wendy Parkinson (wendy.parkinson@ntlworld.com)

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Spoilers: Acquisition

Disclaimer: Enterprise and its characters belong to Paramount. This
fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made
from it.

Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any
similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

All feedback and constructive criticism will be greatly appreciated. 
No flames please.

copyright Wendy Parkinson July 2002

---

As soon as the words were out of my mouth I regretted them. "I'll make
it up to you." Honestly, what an illogical thing to say to a Vulcan!
It was so unlike the way we usually talk to each other. But she was
being so... playful. Teasing me with almost a hint of a smile.
Flirting.

God, that was it. She was flirting with me and my hormones kicked in
before my brain and blurted out those words. Now I was sure they were
going to come back to haunt me.

---

We sat round the table in my dining room, eating our dinner in
companionable silence. Trip had just asked for seconds of the lasagne,
even though he wasn't fond of Italian food, making some excuse about
running round in his underwear all day long giving him a fearsome
appetite. I noticed him glance at T'Pol as he spoke, trying to get the
customary rise out of her but for once she seemed lost in thought and
immune to his 'volatile behaviour'.

She put down her knife and fork and looked solemnly at me. "Captain,"
she said in that measured, even voice of hers. "Earlier you said you
would 'make it up to me'. In the absence of the promised gold bars, I
wish to know what form this recompense will take."

Trip was so taken aback he almost sprayed me with tomato sauce but,
fortunately for me, managed to get himself under enough control to
limit his reaction to a coughing fit into his napkin. "Sounds like you
owe the lady big time, Cap'n," he spluttered. "What did you do?" he
asked as an afterthought, grinning at me.

"He insulted me," T'Pol stated baldly.

I wasn't having that. "I was playing a part, Sub-commander. I was
trying to convince the guy you weren't worth taking. Would you sooner
have been sold into slavery?"

She just looked at me and blinked. Slowly. I find that really
annoying. I can hardly reprimand her for blinking at me offensively,
can I? But she conveys more insubordination and defiance in those
blinks than ten pages of bad language. Shame there's nothing in the
command manuals about dealing with Vulcan eye warfare.

I'm ashamed to say I took my frustration out on Trip. "I don't suppose
you've heard what Hoshi's been saying about her 'husband', have you,
Commander?"

That stopped him dead in his tracks. "What?" he spluttered.

"She's been telling everyone she wouldn't marry you even if you were
the last man in the galaxy," I said with relish. I have to admit his
face was a picture. The biter bit, as they say.

"Even if you do have a bodacious bod," added the Sub-commander, as she
deftly speared a piece of celery.

We both stared at her openmouthed. I felt my eyebrows rising towards
my hair at my second in command's comment. Sometimes I wish I wasn't
bothered by pesky emotions like embarrassment and worry about what
other folks think of me.

As usual, she was totally unperturbed by our reaction. "I am merely
repeating what I've heard in the context of 'girl talk'," she said
calmly. "You are in excellent physical condition, Commander, that is a
matter of fact. So I am merely stating the obvious."

Trip turned a peculiar shade of beet-red and I was hard pushed not to
laugh at my friend's discomfort but if he didn't want women to look
then why did he spend so much time in the gym? Then I had an
unpleasant thought. What had the female members of the crew been
saying about me?

I had to give Trip credit for the speed at which he recovered. "So
when do you indulge in 'girl talk', Sub-commander?"

A bizarre image popped into my mind of T'Pol in pyjamas sitting on her
cabin floor talking to Hoshi, a giant bowl of popcorn between them.
T'pol was tucking in with a knife and fork.

"I have had several interesting conversations with Ensigns Sato and
Cutler," she said. "Their insights into male behaviour are most
enlightening."

"I'll bet," murmured Trip, apparently still smarting over his 'wife's'
rejection.

"I don't think I want to know," I said quickly, trying to deflect her
from saying anything that was likely to destroy my heartfelt belief in
the mystique of command.

"Their comments mainly centered on the observation that 'boys will be
boys'," she continued, completely ignoring my previous comment. "And
that if you want something doing properly, ask a woman."

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer," drawled Trip. "But I
think I may be asking Hoshi for a divorce...."

I laughed, then realised that T'Pol had her eyes fixed on me. She
tilted her head slightly, as if waiting for me to speak. I swallowed
hard. She was waiting for an answer to her original question, wasn't
she? "What would you like me to do to make it up to you,
Sub-commander? What would be appropriate in your opinion?"

She blinked again, then said slowly, her eyes never leaving mine.
"Vulcans do not engage in this practice, therefore I will comply with
the human customs for these circumstances."

"Sounds like dinner and a movie, Cap'n," interrupted Trip cheerfully.

I could have throttled him. If it wasn't for the fact that he's a damn
good engineer, he'd have been cleaning the nacelle housings for the
next millennium. I couldn't take my second in command on a date. What
would the rest of the crew say? And I don't think of her like that.
She's a Vulcan,  for God's sake.

She just sat there, waiting for me to speak. I took the coward's way
out. "What do you think, T'Pol?"

"I accept. I understand 'Casablanca' is showing tomorrow night. I will
meet you there at seven o'clock, then we will have dinner." She
glanced round at the dining room. "Here would be an appropriate
location, I believe."

"Don't worry, Cap'n, I'll make myself scarce," said Trip trying, and
in my opinion, failing, to look sincere.

"Yeah," I muttered. To be honest, I was pretty stunned. I'd just been
railroaded into taking my second in command on a date by her and my
chief engineer. I had a fleeting thought that if they wanted to, they
could probably take over the ship and have me confined for being
incapable of command.

I noticed a smile twitching at Trip's lips. Shooting him a ferocious
glare I muttered, "I'll deal with you later..."

---

I stood patiently outside the makeshift cinema, waiting for my 'date'.
Some of the crew gave me knowing looks and smiles as they passed me on
the way into the room. Trip had to have the biggest mouth this side of
the quadrant. When I'd tackled him about it earlier, all he'd said
was, "Just letting folk share in your joy, Cap'n. Just letting folk
share..." The nacelle housings were too good for him.

"Good evening, sir," said Malcolm as he stopped next to me. "You
haven't seen Hoshi, have you?"

"No, Malcolm. Are you meeting her here?"

He nodded and smiled. "Yes." There was a pause, then he added, "Are
you waiting for someone, sir?"

I shot him a look. I thought *everyone* knew by now. Was he winding me
up? He looked sincere enough, but with Malcolm it was sometimes
difficult to tell. "Yeah. Sub-commander T'Pol."

He nodded again and clasped his hands behind his back, apparently at a
loss on how to respond to my admission. We stood side by side in
silence, united  in our nervousness. Then I saw the top of her head
through the crowd. Her dark brown hair caught the light and she moved
languidly, just as she always did. When she got closer, the crowd
parted and I got my first proper view of her. I know my jaw dropped.

"As we'd say back home, 'she scrubs up nicely', sir," said Malcolm
quietly, as he stared at T'Pol.

She was wearing a calf length fitted dress in a beautiful deep blue
that accentuated her figure and made her look totally feminine. Her
hair looked slightly different somehow, as did her make-up. I think
the word I'm looking for is softer. Yes, she looked softer, more
feminine, more of a woman than the super-efficient science officer I
was used to. I realised my heart was starting to pound in my ears and
my mouth felt uncomfortably dry.

"Captain," she said, as she got close enough for me to hear her.

"Call me Jonathan," I said quietly. "We're both off duty. May I call
you T'Pol?"

She nodded her assent as Hoshi joined our little group. "Doesn't she
look great?" said my communications officer enthusiastically. "Liz and
I helped with the hair and make-up."

"And a great job you did too," said Malcolm, eliciting a small blush
from Hoshi. "Shall we go in? I think the film's about to start."

Hoshi nodded and, taking the armoury officer's hand, led him into the
makeshift cinema.

Suddenly alone with T'Pol, I found myself unsure what to say. "You
look great," I said.

She seemed uncomfortable at the compliment and murmured, "I asked
Ensigns Sato and Cutler for advice on my appearance. They were most
helpful but insisted I should not wear my uniform tonight. Do you
think this outfit appropriate? I have noticed many crew members
staring at me."

I smiled. "That's because you look beautiful. Your outfit is perfect."
I held my arm out for her. "Join me?" She linked her arm with mine and
we went in.

---

'Casablanca' is my Mom's favourite movie and  I can just about recite
the dialogue off by heart, so when we'd taken our seats near the back
of the room and the movie began, I found myself paying more attention
to T'pol's reactions than to the screen. She stared intently at the
flickering black and white images, her face betraying no hint of
emotion until right at the end when Rick told Ilse to leave with
Lazlo. T'pol opened her mouth slightly, registering a small 'o' of
shock. That part always gets to me too; I've sometimes wondered if I
could be that noble.... could I choose between the woman I loved and
the greater good?

I watched the last few minutes of the movie, then murmured, "I think
this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship," along with
Rick. That has to be my favourite line of the whole movie.  I glanced
across at T'pol and found her looking at me curiously. Oh great, now
she thinks I talk to myself. I guess that'll be another point to notch
up to human illogicality. I was vaguely aware of the credits starting
to roll and all around us people beginning to move but my eyes were
locked to T'pol's and I found I just couldn't look away. They were
such a beautiful shade of brown....

Her lips twitched in the merest suggestion of a smile and she said
quietly, "Shall we go to dinner, Jonathan?" A small shiver ran through
me when she said my name; a pleasant sensation that at that moment I
didn't care to analyse. I nodded my agreement and led her to my dining
room.

---

We ate a vegetable stir fry and noodles, followed by apple pie and ice
cream. I'd ordered vegetarian for both of us because I couldn't face
that distasteful, wrinkled-nose look she gets when she watches us
primitive humans tuck into a juicy steak. And I have to admit,
committed carnivore that I am, for once I didn't mind there not being
meat on the menu.

Our conversation was mainly about the movie. It turned out that T'pol
was very impressed by the logical behaviour displayed by Rick and
Ilse. "Logical?" I protested. "Noble, self-sacrificing, heartbreaking
maybe... but 'logical'? No. 'Logical' makes it sound cold and
emotionless.  Their actions were anything but that."

"It is merely a Vulcan perspective, Jonathan. Do you see me as cold
and emotionless?" She raised an eyebrow slightly to emphasise her
question.

"What?..." That took me by surprise.   Did  I perceive her as cold? I
hesitated. That was how I saw Vulcans but T'pol...? "No, I don't," I
replied honestly. "I did at first, but not now. I see you as calm and
rational, the voice of reason on the bridge. My totally reliable
second-in-command." I smiled and was gratified to get that almost
half-smile in return.

"Thank you. I shall take that as a compliment, Jonathan."

It was then that the apple pie arrived. I was amazed to see her tuck
in with enthusiasm. She looked up from her food, apparently aware of
me watching her. She raised the inevitable eyebrow in query. "Apple
pie doesn't seem a very Vulcan-like food," I explained.

She put her fork down for a moment. "Commander Tucker introduced me to
the concept of desserts. I found his preferred selection, pecan pie,
pleasing, and have, on occasions, tried others." She took another
forkful of pie and passed it between those gorgeously full lips. I
watched, transfixed, then felt a small twinge of something when I
thought of her discovering desserts with Trip. Of course, I wasn't
jealous; it had to be indigestion caused by eating more vegetables
than I was used to... didn't it?

---

We stopped outside her quarters and she turned to face me, her eyes
darting quickly from side to side, a sign I've come to recognise as
her version of nervousness. After a few moments, her eyes settled on
mine and she murmured, "Thank you, Jonathan. The evening has been
most.... enjoyable."

I looked into those brown eyes and didn't see my Vulcan science
officer, I saw a beautiful woman I'd spent a surprisingly fun evening
with.

It was then I took leave of my senses. I leant down and kissed her
gently on the lips. My rational mind screamed that this was quite
possibly the stupidest thing I'd ever done, even worse than that poker
game Trip reminds me of now and again. I'd just kissed a woman who
didn't feel emotion and was several times stronger than me. But, by
God, it felt good. Her lips were soft and warmer than a human's. She
didn't respond to me but she didn't pull away either. Hell, Vulcans
probably consider kissing offensive; I know they don't like to be
touched.

When I pulled back, she looked at me, shock registering on her
normally serene features. It felt like everything was in slow motion.
I saw her breathe in. Was she going to tell me how illogical I was, or
possibly slap my face? Perhaps she was going to go for that neck pinch
thing she does sometimes. I've often wondered if that hurts.

But after studying my face intently, she simply raised an eyebrow and
said quietly, "That was enjoyable too, Jonathan. Good night."

She accessed her door control and let herself into her quarters
without another word. I was left standing in the corridor staring at
her closed door.

---

Of all the starships, in all the systems, in all the quadrants, she
had to walk onto mine....

---

The End