The BLTS Archive - Shale
by Fewthistle (fewthistle@aol.com)

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Standard Disclaimer: The ship, the characters, and the
stars, in fact everything but the inviolability of the
heart, all belong  to Paramount/Viacom. The characters were
used solely for the amusement of the author. No profit was
made, no disrespect was intended. This story is the property
of the author. Please do not archive without  permission.

Spoilers: Various episodes, although very vaguely. Mostly
just "Sleeping Dogs".

Special thanks to Loretta for indulging me. Btw, clearly it
is a bit early in this series to start creating meaningful
story lines. For one, we know little about the characters,
and two, things are bound to be undone by TPTB soon enough.
So, this is simply my own personal indulgence and should not
be taken as being altogether accurate.

If the concept of two women in love disturbs you, or if you
are not tall enough for this ride, then do have a lovely
time somewhere else.

Comments and kind words may be sent.

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The candle flame dipped and swayed to a melody without
sound, a solitary dancer to an unnamed tune, as outside of
the ship's small viewports, other, far more distant points
of light sped past, their own dance unseen and unremarked by
the inhabitant of the dimly lit cabin. She sat unmoving
before the flickering light, legs crossed, spine straight,
her dark eyes as unfathomable as the black depths of space
through which the small white ship sailed, the golden
glimmer of the flame a single star against the obsidian of
pupil and the rich brown and green of iris.

The deftly sculpted face held no hint of expression as she
gazed at the focal point of light. Only the slight tension
in her shoulders and the occasional expansion of her pupils,
unaffected by the candle flame, gave evidence of a less than
ordered mind.

Try as she would, the sights, and smells of the Klingon ship
she had so recently visited refused to leave her
consciousness, compelled to tarry by that most horrific of
all accomplices, lingering traces of emotion, annoyingly
tender, infuriatingly tempting vestiges of compassion, of
empathy, of longing, and desire. Try as she might, she could
not banish them from her mind, their voices the barest of
whispers, flimsy phantoms that slipped unbidden,
ungovernable, and seemingly irrepressible through the solid
stones of high citadel walls, walls that contained and
bridled the emotions that had once been her people's
undoing.

She had known that coming aboard Enterprise would be a
challenge to her will. Living among these humans was akin to
weathering a storm, constant and unrelenting, their emotions
like pellets of rain, beating hard and furious against the
mental constraints she had spent a lifetime constructing.
She had not imagined it would be so difficult. Foolish of
her to think that she would be able to shut herself off
completely. Foolish and perhaps even arrogant, something of
which she was quite used to being accused.

Alone really, unaided and increasingly threatened by the
more savage, violent races that every day seemed to be
making their way out into the stars, her people had done
what was necessary to survive. They did not preach, did not
proselytize , did not attempt to convert the humans to the
path of logic. If the humans choose to see the buried sorrow
of her people at the inability of the humans to follow the
correct path as condescension or judgment, there was little
her people could do but remain patient and continue to guide
their young allies in the ways of an unforgiving universe.

Her interactions with the humans had been, at times,
unpleasant, as the clash between cultures and belief systems
often were. However, it had never been arrogance on her
part, merely a necessary belief in the tenets of her
culture, in herself, an assurance founded on logic and
attested to by years of experience. Without it, without that
absolute conviction, her people would have faltered, perhaps
even failed, all these centuries. She would have faltered,
as it appeared she had now.

She must find a way to reinforce her own mental discipline.
The footsteps along the path of logic were there in front of
her, as they had always been. She had only to follow them.
Shutting out most of the external influences had been
difficult, but manageable. It was finding a way to smother
the meager embers of emotion that had been stoked by her
encounter with Hoshi aboard the Klingon vessel that was
proving the more arduous task.

Even now, she was uncertain what had led her to follow the
Ensign to the galley of the alien ship. She could have
easily sent Mr. Reed to safeguard the young linguist. It had
been pure instinct to accompany her, a sudden and not
altogether explicable need to protect the younger woman.
Understandable perhaps, given Hoshi's past experiences with
away missions, but what had followed had had less to do with
prudence than a desire on her part to ease Hoshi's anxiety.

"Take my hand," she had said, her mind registering slight
surprise at the look of suspicion that had passed across
Hoshi's face.

Sinking to her knees amid the filth and stench of the
Klingon galley, she had taken Hoshi's hand in her own,
cradling the slender appendage between her own hands, the
skin warm and soft beneath her fingers. The look of distrust
was still there in the eyes of jet black that stared down at
her. She realized that it was simply the instinctive
reaction of any species to aberrant behavior. Kindness was
not usually considered a typical Vulcan trait, and so the
young Ensign found herself curious and not a little
suspicious of this unexpected action, of the soft, almost
tender tone of T'Pol's voice, and the gentle feel of T'Pol's
fingers against the skin of her own hand.

"Close your eyes," she had commanded, the softness of her
voice altering the order to a request.

In tempered tones she had formed an image in Hoshi's mind,
an image she challenged her to control. She could sense
Hoshi's hesitation, cataloging the stream of emotions that
flowed from the human's mind into her own. Fear, anxiety,
distrust, determination, curiosity, even attraction, all
rose and fell, the rough waves on the sea that she had
assured Hoshi she could calm. Slowly, the waves relented,
giving way to an inner strength that T'Pol knew the younger
woman was not even aware she possessed. As surprised as she
was by Hoshi's abilities, she found herself all the more
surprised by her own reactions, as flickers of longing and
desire leapt unbidden inside her own mind.

It had been so long since she had been touched, and the feel
of warm skin against her own had awakened needs that she had
thought sufficiently interred. Awakened emotions that she
had spent so many years denying.

"I do not require companionship. I do not require
friendship. I will not be governed by emotion. I will govern
it. My intent was merely to teach, to share knowledge.
Anything more is impossible, anything more is unthinkable."

She had been repeating this same mantra over and over for
several hours now. The meditation that had always served to
contain the feelings that lived under the surface of every
Vulcan mind had failed her tonight, however. Despite the
rigors of her mental training, the sensation of soft skin
and the depths of depthless eyes forced their way, uninvited
and unwelcome, past the once sturdy walls of T'Pol's
consciousness. With them came an unmistakable sensation of
attraction and desire.

She had thought to create stalwart barriers, impregnable
slabs of rock, formed from logic and discipline. Now, here
alone among these humans, she found instead that at least
some of those walls were made of shale. She had found such
rocks on Earth, in the garden of the Vulcan compound. At
first glance the pieces of stone had appeared solid. On
closer inspection, however, she found the layers of rock
peeled away if attacked at just the right spot, and that the
entire stone could be shattered to splinters if the correct
amount of pressure was applied.

Her mind registered the irony of her own point of weakness.
She had stood up to Archer on innumerable occasions, defied
the High Command, albeit more by omission than actual acts
of defiance. She had even gone against the strictures and
expectations of her family and society to remain here with
these humans, to help and guide them, to save them from
themselves. Throughout all of that, she had remained in
control, never giving in to the heat of the moment, never
relinquishing her own inner equanimity to the often
compelling onslaught of emotion from her shipmates.

Now, to be brought to this humiliating state by the most
innocuous of opponents, made her realize that she had made
the fatal error of underestimating her adversary. She had
focused so much on what she perceived to be the stronger
threats to her control, the often infuriating actions of the
Captain, the mistrustful antagonism of Commander Tucker,
even the sometimes incomprehensible dictates of her
superiors, that she had allowed a greater threat under her
sensors.

A threat who, in just moments, would be standing at her
door, ready to receive her next lesson in mastering emotion.
A lesson that T'Pol was uncertain she was fully equipped to
administer. A lesson that she feared greatly would slice
away another layer of shale. Her only hope was to inform
Ensign Sato that she would be unable to continue with her
instruction. Unasked, the awareness that she wanted to
continue to teach Hoshi, that she wanted to spend more time
with the young linguist stood out starkly in her mind.

A year ago, she would merely have pushed aside the thought
as frivolous, secure in the knowledge that her wants and
desires were unimportant in the grander scheme of things.
Yet, she had broken a marriage contract, gone against her
family's wishes because she desired to remain on Enterprise.
Suddenly, the concept of giving in to her own desires did
not seem so foreign.

"It is merely a normal, physiological response. Hormones,
pheromones, nothing more. I can control it. I will not be
governed by emotion. I will share my knowledge with one in
need of emotional restraint. Logic will dictate my actions."

Focusing on the still flickering light of the single candle,
she catechized herself again and again, determined to
smother, once and for all, the small, persistent glow of
emotion that had been brought into being at the touch of
Hoshi's hand in hers. The very hand that even now rose to
press the chime outside of her quarters, as Hoshi stood and
waited for permission to enter.

"Enter," she said quietly, drawing in a deep breath.

As the door slid open with a muted whoosh, a current of air
caught the flame of the candle, twirling it in a new dance
that shimmered against the darkness of her eyes. Without
speaking, Hoshi stepped into the room, crossing to where
T'Pol sat motionless. Sinking gracefully to her knees in
front of the Vulcan, Hoshi simply reached out her hand and
grasped one of T'Pol's where it rested limply on her thigh.
Her gaze locked with T'Pol's, Hoshi gently cradled the hand
and murmured softly.

"Teach me."

Words to shatter shale.

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The End