Missing Scenes from Season Two - Stigma

SPOILERS: Stigma (and as usual, it won't make much sense without it).

DISCLAIMER: Star Trek belongs to CBS/Paramount, not me.  The original episode was written by Rick Berman and Brannon Braga.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The trust arc continues.  I seem to be in the mood for continuity this season.  Thanks as always to jT for beta and to my reviewers for your generous feedback!

T'Pol eyed the sparse selection of menu items in the case.  It was well past lunch and well before dinner -- which was exactly why she had chosen to come to the mess hall now.  She did not want company.  She did not want to have to explain that she was not on duty because she was packing up the rest of her belongings after a hearing that had merely succeeded in destroying yet another Vulcan's life. 

She was not particularly hungry, either, but she knew that failing to eat would only exacerbate her condition.  So she helped herself to a small salad and a cup of peppermint tea and took them to the most distant, corner table. 

Should she even be concerned about exacerbating her condition?  Perhaps it would be better if it ran its course as quickly as possible.  That way she would perhaps reduce the amount of shame she would bring to her mother and her clan. 

Of course, once home it was unlikely she would have any choice in the matter.  She was unlikely toreceive the same level of treatment Phlox had been providing.  She would probably be encouraged to check herself into a discreet hospice program somewhere, a place designed to keep dangerous deviants compassionately segregated from the rest of society.

Perhaps the company there would be interesting, at least -- presumably it would include melders, hopefully more like Yuris than like Tolaris -- and there might be less of the hypocrisy she had begun to associate with Vulcans in authority.  Perhaps, if she were allowed to research the condition, she might come up with a cure on her own.

Though she doubted any significant resources would be made available to her. 

She looked across the empty mess hall.  She didn't want to leave Enterprise.   Archer had been very angry about not being told about her diagnosis, but once he got beyond that she had gotten nothing but support and concern from him.  He still wanted her here, and in T'Pol's judgment it was much preferable to be wanted than to be unwanted.

As she stared bleakly across the room, the door slid open and Commander Tucker stuck his head in and scanned the room quickly.  When he saw her he smiled - a warm, open smile, the kind she had once taken for granted but now knew to appreciate - and stepped into the room.  "May I join you?" he asked.

She nodded her assent and waited while he grabbed a sandwich and a glass of milk.

"A late lunch?" she asked.

"Yep.  I'm starving."

She let him sit and "inhale" his food, as Ensign Sato had once, figuratively, described it - while she picked at her own meal.   She had not attended any more movie nights, but Commander Tucker appeared to have forgiven her for her perceived trespasses against him anyway.  For whatever reason, this small change in their interactions had made her daily life aboard ship much more comfortable.   

He consumed half of his sandwich in very little time and sighed with relief.  "Oh, that hits the spot.  So why are you eating at this odd time of day?"

"I was down on the planet with Captain Archer." 

"Ah.  Anything exciting going on?"

She looked at him, assessing.  Should she tell him?  She knew he most particularly did not like 'not to be trusted.'  On the other hand, she also knew he would be upset and angry about what had happened - it would offend his sense of justice, just as it had Archer's.  He would be even more upset if he knew about Tolaris.  And Tucker, she suspected, would likely react with even more volatility than the captain.  He might be additionally upset at her that he hadn't known about Tolaris before - he might categorize it as yet another example of her not trusting him sufficiently.

She didn't feel capable of coping with his negative emotions on top of her own right now.  As it was, she was feeling vaguely nauseated by the simple necessity of eating. 

"T'Pol?" he said.  "You all right?"

"I'm ... a bit fatigued.  No, there was nothing particularly notable.  We exchanged some research findings."

"Ah."  He went back to his sandwich. 

She remembered the odd way he had entered the room.  "Why are you eating so late?"

He blushed and answered her around the remains of half a mouth-full of sandwich.  "I'm trying to avoid Feezal.  Phlox's wife."

Her eyebrow rose.

He swallowed.  "Apparently Denobulan women have very healthy, um, appetites.  And, for whatever reason, she ... took a shine to me."  His blush deepened.

T'Pol stared at him, nonplussed.  He'd had sex with Phlox's wife?  That might well make it rather awkward to encounter her again.   Were there any alien women Tucker wouldn't be willing to have sex with?

"I didn't do anything to encourage it, either," Tucker said.  "Nothing at all!"

"I hope you took precautions."  She worked to keep her tone even and nonjudgmental.  "At least with a Denobulan female becoming pregnant yourself is not a concern."

"Precautions?" Tucker said, squinting at her.  Then his mouth dropped open.   "Are you kidding me? You must think I'm some oversexed baboon who'll happily sleep with anything that moves!"

She blinked.  What had she said wrong now?  "I thought you said ..."

"I said she was interested -- not that I was!  She's married!  I'd never do that sort of thing.  I even told Phlox about it, but that didn't help.  He actually encouraged me to give it a go.  Can you imagine?  I guess Denobulans are used to sharing everything."  He shuddered.

She leaned forward as casually as she could and gently sniffed.  No, he didn't smell as if he had recently engaged in sexual relations, though there was a faint whiff of Denobulan female -- that was a rather unmistakable aroma.  Of course, he could have gotten that just from being in the same room with the woman. 

"Are you smelling me?" he said.

She quickly pulled back.  "I apologize," she said.  "I was merely attempting to verify your claim."

His face darkened.  "And did I pass?"

"I don't detect any evidence to contradict your story," she said. 

He folded his arms and stared at her.  "I see.  So you couldn't simply trust me to tell you the truth."

 "Vulcan women have extremely good olfactory senses," she said, and stared right back at him.   Surely he didn't think he could lie straight-faced to her about the Kriosan he'd very obviously had sex with and then expect her to believe him in this matter?

He was nodding his head in a clearly annoyed manner.  "I get it.  You think I lied to you about Kaitaama."

She just raised an eyebrow.

He scowled.  His face turned red.  He looked off to the side and said, "You know, it's just possible that a princess who's about to ascend to First Monarch can't afford to let certain things get out."

"Indeed," T'Pol said.  "I could well imagine that.  Similarly, it's possible the Vulcan Security Directorate cannot allow certain information to become common knowledge, either."

He closed his eyes.  That was a painful area for him, she knew.  "That wasn't the same."

"I'm sorry you feel that way," she said, and began to stand.

"T'Pol."

She stopped, tray in hand.

"I want us to be friends," he said. 

She sat back down.  "I cannot share all my secrets with you, Commander."

He grimaced.  "I know.  I suppose I might want to keep a few of my own, if I think about it."

"But I would consider it a great honor to be your friend," she said.

He gave her a very serious look.  "Likewise.  Always."

She nodded slightly in acknowledgment.

He gave her a tight smile, as if he was perhaps holding back a stronger emotion. 

How she wished she could stay here on Enterprise with him and Archer and a crew that largely seemed to accept her despite her differences from them. 

Should she tell Tucker why she had to go back to her quarters to finish packing now? 

But she simply didn't have it in her.  Perhaps, later, when her things were packed.  And even if she never said anything at all, if she somehow avoided a painful farewell, perhaps he could look back on this conversation and remember that she had said she could not share all her secrets with him.

But she would always be his friend.