Missing Scenes from Season Three: North Star

SPOILERS: "North Star" and it may not make sense without them.

DISCLAIMER: Star Trek belongs to CBS/Paramount.  "North Star" was written by David A. Goodman.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you look at this episode, Trip and T'Pol had a hell of a lot of time to hang out together off camera, much of it on a horse.  And I figured it was time for a little comic relief. This also counts as a response to Aquarius's September word prompt: "Education"

Thank you as always, kind reviewers and beta jT. 

Riding horses was not nearly as easy as it looked in John Ford movies.

Trip's instinct, when their horse's pace slowed so much they might as well have walked, was to pull back on the reins: come on, girl, get on with it.  After all, to go faster in a shuttle, you pulled the throttle back.

But the horse stopped. 

They were about midway between the Skagaran settlement and the shuttle pod, in yet another miserable dry planetary landscape. 

And this horse was making him look bad.

He tried shaking the reins.  Nothing.  He leaned forward and crooned, "Come on, sweetheart.  Go!  Giddyup."

The horse tossed its head, but stayed put.

"I believe the general technique is to 'spur' the horse with those items projecting from the back of your boots," T'Pol said.  "To slow or stop a horse, I believe you 'rein it in'."

"Oh, yeah," Trip said.  "Rein it in.  Right."  No wonder the horse had stopped.  "But I'm not entirely comfortable sticking spurs into a dumb animal."  Especially with them sitting this far off the ground.

"Then why would the costume of this era include spurs?"

He scowled.  "Are you certain you can hang on if she suddenly takes off?" 

"I believe the term you would want to use in that case is 'whoa'."

Cautiously, he tapped the side of the horse with his legs.  No spurs yet.  The horse sidestepped and stopped again.   

Damn, he hoped that guy hadn't given them an ornery horse.  He gave the horse a more forceful squeeze with his legs; he still had profound doubts about that spurring idea.  This time the horse started up again, at a reasonably fast walk for the terrain.

"That's more like it," Trip said, settling back and making sure once again that his ankles were down in the stirrups.  He remembered from some Zane Gray novel he'd read as a kid that you were supposed to do that to avoid being dragged by a horse that bolted.  He thought about explaining this to T'Pol just to show that he wasn't completely ignorant, and maybe also to emphasize the idea that a horse could bolt, but decided he'd better not.  For all he knew, Zane Grey had been the pseudonym of a genteel lady novelist in a Philadelphia brownstone who had also assumed you could learn how to ride a horse from watching John Ford movies.

At least T'Pol hadn't suggested they trade places yet.  That would be truly mortifying.  He said, "So how do you know anything about horses?"

"I once read a monograph about 'cowboy' culture that was disseminated by the Vulcan embassy in Sausalito.  Ambassador Soval believed that this might help us better understand the customs and language of the Humans who populate North America."

He squinted out from under the wide brim of his hat at the glare of this barren planet's endless drab terrain: rocks, scrub, more rocks.  "Did it?"

"It did improve my understanding of some colloquialisms in standard English, such as 'horse trading,' 'horse of a different color,' 'you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink' and 'rode hard and put away wet."

Trip choked.  "What?"

"Rode hard ..."

"I heard you, I just ... has anyone actually used that one around you?"

"I once overheard then-Commander Duval use it in reference to a waitress in the 602 Club.  As I recall, Captain Ramirez responded rather emphatically that he ought to keep that opinion to himself."

Duval was a jackass.  He sure hoped it wasn't Ruby he was talking about.  "Yeah, well, it wasn't very polite of him."

"It implies that someone has been worked unreasonably hard, does it not?"

"Mmm.  Yep, that's pretty much it.  You'd only ever say it about a woman, though."

"Why is that?"

"Well."  He coughed.  "It kind of has sexual connotations."

"The monograph did note that sexual innuendo could also be present in some 'cowboy' colloquialisms, such as 'in the saddle'."

Trip swallowed desperately.  "Yep."

"So that would not be polite either?"

"Well.  It depends on how it's being used.  For instance, we're in the saddle here, but that's just because we're literally sitting in a saddle.  Nothing rude about that.  As far as the other saying - well, unless you're literally talking about a horse that hasn't been properly groomed after a hard ride, which frankly doesn't come up all that often in daily life ... well, it implies that a woman has been used for sex without, you know, any regard to ... the niceties."

" 'The niceties'?"

Oh God.  Just shoot him now.  "Are you sure we're still going in the right direction?" 

There was a pause while she checked the scanner and he racked his brain for a better distraction.  Where was one of those 'sand vipers' when you needed it? 

Of course, with his luck, it would probably be humping another sand viper. 

"Our course has not deviated," she said.  "In any case, this trail appears to be well-traveled."

"Yeah, it looks like there's a fair amount of traffic back and forth.  I wonder why that is?"

"You haven't explained 'the niceties'."

Damn it.  "Well.  I guess ... originally, it would probably mean that the guy had the proper intentions."

"Which would be ...?"

"That he was planning to marry her, I assume.  Especially if she got pregnant.  Today, it might just mean that a guy has some sincere feelings for the lady.  Or at least, that they were both in agreement about what the deal was.  In other words, that he didn't just take advantage so he could have a good time without ...."  Suddenly he became extremely conscious that she was right there, holding onto him - clinging, practically - and felt himself flush hot. "... well, making sure that she did, too." He shook his head slightly.  How the hell had he once again ended up lecturing their Vulcan science officer on Human Sexuality 101?

"Why would a man concern himself with that?" She sounded surprised.

"What do you mean, why?  Don't you think it's the least he could do?"

"It's my understanding that copulation significantly reduces blood flow to the brain."

No kidding.  "Well ..."  Trip sighed.  "A gentleman can still manage to employ some ... skill.  Some finesse.  He can at least delay his own satisfaction long enough to figure out what she likes.  Or if he's lucky, she'll just tell him." 

There was a long silence.  Apparently, he'd finally left her speechless.

"So ..." He cleared his throat.  "Are we anywhere near the place yet?"

"Another 3.2 kilometers," she said.

They plodded along until he began to find the silence just too uncomfortable.  "Does this planet remind you of Vulcan at all?" he asked.

"No.  It is much more temperate, and the gravity is also much lighter."

He grimaced.  Vulcan must be truly unbearable.

Suddenly she said, "I don't believe Vulcan men would be likely to concern themselves with their mate's pleasure."

"No?"  Did this mean she'd never had sex with a Vulcan man?  It sure sounded that way.  Either that, or she'd only had bad sex with a Vulcan man.

"I cannot say for certain, because we never speak of such things."

"You're speaking about it with me."

She said, "You are correct.  I apologize."

"For what?"

"This conversation has been quite inappropriate, by Vulcan standards." 

It was a little dicey by Human standards too, but he decided he wouldn't say anything about that.  She sounded pretty rattled. "I won't tell anyone if you don't."

"I would appreciate that." 

Probably it was his imagination, but it felt to him as if she tucked herself in behind him just a little more snugly. 

Why did they get into these conversations, anyway?

The only reason he could think of was that she must trust him, on some level at least, and the thought made his heart swell with affection for her.  He wished he could show her just what he meant by how a gentleman should treat a lady.

But, Tucker, that's crazy.

But then again, what wasn't, these days?