Forks In the Road

By weeble

Rating: PG

Genres: au

Keywords:

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The Way We Are

By Weeble

aka Steelchaser

 

Rating: PG

 

Genre: TnT

Summary/What was I thinking?: I have my own view of what happened to my favorite couple following Terra Prime, and of course TATV never happened. Also, while I am a proud American, I have always felt that Star Trek was overly dominated by Americans and humans; I am not after ratings so new characters will emerge. This is chapter one of a yarn; not sure how big a ball of wool I have.

Disclaimer (necessary): Star Trek: Enterprise and its characters are copyright CBS/Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended by the author of this story, which is solely for the purpose of entertainment and is not for profit.

 

DISCLAIMER (additional): CBS apparently owns Enterprise and the characters and all things Star Trek, too bad. After reading my tale you will be satisfied I will not make any money. On the one hand it is maddening that TPTB killed off Enterprise. On the other hand I am confident the fanfic community has done a far better job after picking up the pieces. New characters are mine and I have unashamedly stolen ideas from many; I offer my thanks or apologies.

Thanks: To all who wrote fanfics for your many hours of entertainment. To Cogito who fixed the mess I made. You really didn’t want to read the first draft. To Alelou, for encouragement.

 

 

T’Pol’s control had all but evaporated. She had managed to dress in her mourning robes, and now she stared sightlessly at her unlit candles. While she knew few names for emotions, she understood this one: despair. Her daughter was dead, katra lost. She pleaded through the bond for Trip to come to her, but his own turmoil was overwhelming him and blocking her appeal. “Cast out fear” became her only mantra, “Cast out fear”.

 

After T’Pol left Trip had stayed in sickbay for a while. Phlox had tried to console him, but it hadn’t worked. Finally he had gone to his quarters and tried to rest, but the tears wouldn’t stop. Trip paced around his quarters while his shoulder ached and itched. Briefly distracted, he wondered why all his wounds had to itch. The momentary gap in his grief allowed him to feel her desperation and he knew he had to go to T’Pol.

 

The door slid open and Trip entered, eyeing T’Pol carefully. She was perched on her bunk, clearly nearing emotional collapse. He had hoped to comfort her as he relayed Phlox’s discovery, but his own tears had begun to fall. His daughter was gone and, while his mind had become confident in their relationship, his heart had misgivings. Too many false starts, too many rejections. Somehow he found himself sitting on the bunk next to her, not remembering moving from the door. Their hands had overcome the awkwardness and joined together clasping the IDIC in between; could they do the same? A peace finally suffused them both and neither had the least inclination to move.

 

Finally, T'Pol broke the silence. “Trip,” she said quietly. “Ashayam,” she said when he didn't react. “Charles.”

 

He turned his head at that. “Yes, T’Pol?”

 

“Ashayam, we must speak. Are you able?”

 

“Yeah, give me a sec.” He frowned. “Asha-who? What does that mean?”

 

“Ashayam. It roughly translates to ‘Beloved’."

 

That got his attention. He wasn’t sure what was to follow, but he wiped his eyes and listened. He sensed she was using the last of her control.

 

“Trip, please hear me. You are my bond-mate, my husband by Vulcan law. I cannot regain my control without you. It is normal for Vulcan parents to enter into ritual seclusion following the death of a child and I desire you to join me. Additionally I will no longer tolerate the limitations placed on our relationship by Starfleet. Will you agree to formalize our marriage and go with me to Vulcan?”

 

Trip’s head was spinning. He was at once feeling the deepest sadness and the greatest joy. He had also been shot by a phase weapon and shot up with painkillers. Suddenly it was all too much, and the room began to spin.

 

As his mind cleared he found himself securely pressed against her, her two arms wrapped protectively around him. Replaying their conversation he realized she was still waiting for an answer, and at once he knew what his answer was going to be. Releasing himself from her grip, he slipped off the bed and turned back towards her on one knee. He took her hands in his, and looked at them for a moment while he chose his words. Finally, he looked up to meet her anxious eyes. “T’Pol, would you honor me by becoming my wife?”

 

 

As the waves of love caressed her through the bond her sadness eased. “Yes, Trip” was all she managed before joining him on the floor and pulling him close.

 

Once again time had no meaning. Years of pain and struggle dissipated until all that remained was their love, with the loss of their daughter unfortunately jolting them back to the present. Finally T’Pol broke their embrace.

 

“Trip.”

 

“Yes, Ashyam? Did I say it right?”

 

T’Pol glowed at hearing his butchered words, not willing to correct him. “Trip, I must contact Soval. We need a Vulcan priest for Elizabeth’s funeral and, if you are willing, I would have him witness our bond.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

T’Pol hesitated, not wishing to re-open old wounds. Trip pulled her close, as if he had felt her anguish. “Its OK,” he said.

 

“A Vulcan priest will verify the bond. He will then file the required documents that will make you a citizen of Vulcan.”

 

“Do I give up my Earth citizenship?”

 

“No.”

 

“T’Pol, I gotta tell Jon. While he and I have lost much of our friendship, I cannot imagine him not bein’ at the ceremony, and Starfleet won’t allow us to serve together on Enterprise. We may have to resign.”

 

“Agreed.”

 

Trip squirmed uncomfortably, “T’Pol?”

 

“Yes, Trip?”

 

“How long will we be in seclusion?” Trip had lots of questions about this latest revelation, but just this query had sent an unpleasant jolt through the bond.

 

“T’Pol are you okay?”

 

Recovering, she said. “I am satisfactory. Trip, I do not know how long it will take me to regain my control. Your presence will greatly assist my recovery.”

 

“We’ll get through this, however long it takes, darlin’,” he said with a reassuring hug.

 

Relaxing her back into the bunk, he gazed into her eyes for a moment, before getting up to arrange her meditation candles and pillows. Once everything was ready he lit the candles and moved her onto her pillow. She felt a familiar thrill as his cool fingers traced across her back, and then as his expert fingers pressed the proper neural nodes her tensions dropped away.

 

“I need to go tell Jon. Will you be OK for a while?”

 

“Yes, Trip, but please hurry back, your presence comforts me.”

 

“T’Pol?” She looked up briefly. “I love you.”

 

Extending two fingers, she said “Ashayam.”

 

Trip extended the same fingers. She was suddenly reminded of another wedding on Vulcan, but when their fingers touched this time the bitter memories were replaced with a sense of unconditional love from her bondmate. All too soon he withdrew his hand and she sighed as the door hissed shut behind him.

 

Jon, exhausted, was certain of only one thing: Porthos would want to get fed soon. Okay two things: Tellarites were ugly and obnoxious, or was that three things? He was in his quarters in slacks and a tee shirt sipping bourbon neat. Porthos had taken advantage and crawled up next to him for his pre-meal scratch.

 

Jon was not looking forward to tomorrow. Starfleet was certain to have more questions about T’Pol and Trip’s relationship. Hell, so did he. He also knew that they were both devastated. Phlox had called and told him Trip was inconsolable and T’Pol was medically relieved of duty. Somehow he knew Soval would be weighing in shortly. He had no idea what to tell Massaro’s next-of-kin; did he even have any? Probably should get Hoshi on that, tomorrow.

 

Tomorrow, he would need to be captain again. His crew would need him to be strong. A little baby with pointed ears and blue eyes had touched them all. She embodied his dream of Interplanetary Coalition and had died because she hadn’t been put together correctly. No, damn it. She had been a person, not a construct. He would not diminish her that way. Had he become that cold? He downed his drink and decided no, he hadn’t. Whatever might become the future of interspecies relations, Elizabeth had been real. And his two senior officers had suffered more than they deserved. He would keep the jackals of Starfleet at bay.

 

He got up and filled up Porthos’ bowl. A wagging tail told him he had got that right. He headed toward his private stock to refill his glass when the door chimed.

 

“Come.”

 

“Hi Jonathon.”

 

Jon’s mouth dropped open as Erika Hernandez glided into his quarters.

 

His “What the, how did you get, smmph,” was cut off as she planted a big wet one on him. Things were looking up.

 

“I asked Hoshi to let me surprise you, figured you needed it. How are you Jon?”

 

“Better now.”

 

“Good answer.”

 

“When did Columbia get back in system?”

 

“We were recalled while you were taking down Terra Prime. Starfleet seems to think there may be sympathizers on my ship. They want to clean house. Anything I should know?”

 

“We had one here. Not sure what I can say yet. Starfleet is trying to contain the damage.”

 

“I don’t think that will work, too many people asking questions. You got another glass? You wouldn’t have a decent red wine would you?”

 

“Sure Erika. I’ve been saving this one.”

 

Jon finished his trip to his liquor cabinet, uncorked a Malbec and handed her a glass.

 

“Erika, I’m glad you came. I really need to talk to someone but I don’t know what I can say.”

 

“Well, lets keep it simple, Jon. I know the child was a Vulcan/Human…” Erika’s voice trailed off.

 

“Yeah, kind of hard just to say what, no who, Elizabeth was.”

 

“Elizabeth??”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Okay, now I have more questions than I had before; and I'm not sure I'm helping.”

 

“It’s OK Erika, I can’t see how they’re going to keep a lid on this anyway, and it’s easy to see why.”

 

“Jon, I was told DNA was stolen from sickbay and to inventory mine. That implies, maybe, that T’Pol was the Vulcan half. Judging by your reaction, I don’t think you were the human half.”

 

“No, it wasn’t me.”

 

The comm chimed. “Cap’n?”

 

“Yes, Trip?”

 

“I need to speak with you.”

 

“Come on, give me five minutes.”

 

“Jon, do you want me to leave?”

 

“No, Erika, I don’t.”

 

“Do you know what he wants?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“Are you sure I should hear this?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Cause something tells me you’re going to find out anyway. I need you right now. You can go if you wish, but I would rather you stayed.”

 

Erika looked at him curiously but said nothing. They both took a deep swallow of their drinks and waited.

 

Trip made his way through the corridors, contemplating what to tell Jon and not getting anywhere. When he pressed the door chime, he still had no idea what to say.

 

“Come.”

 

The door slid open to reveal Jon and Erika sipping their drinks on opposite sides of the captain’s quarters.

 

“Sorry sir, ma’am, I can come back.”

 

“No, Trip, come on in.”

 

He entered.

 

“Trip, something tells me that whatever you have to say Erika will need to know anyway.”

 

John laughed as Trip’s tongue started poking around his cheek while he pondered.

 

“Cap’n, I guess I’ll just get to it. I want you to witness, um, come, um, stand up at my wedding.”

 

“Anybody I know?”

 

“Aw hell, you have another one of those?” he said, pointing at the glass. “I don’t know if Phlox would be OK with it but I really don’t care.”

 

Jon got up and poured bourbon for Trip.

 

“Trip?”

 

“Yes, sir?”

 

“Trip, its 'Jon'. There is something you want to tell me?” Jon was struggling to keep a straight face.

 

“Yeah I know, but ...” He took a sip while he collected his thoughts. “T’Pol and I are bonded.”

 

Jon leaned his head back and dug through the remaining bits of Surak’s memories: Mate-bond, roughly equivalent to human marriage. Permanent. Ability to share thoughts.

 

“When is the ceremony?”

 

“What? Oh, I don’t know. T’Pol needs to contact Soval to arrange a priest for the funeral and the bonding. We have to go to Vulcan, Cap’n. I don’t understand it all, please ask Soval, but she needs seclusion and me with her.”

 

“How long, Trip?”

 

“I don’t know but you best figure on replacing both of us ‘cause Starfleet wont let us serve together anyway.”

 

Jon grimaced, “Shit”.

 

“I’m sorry Cap’n, but I also need to know what we can say about Elizabeth. I gotta tell my folks somethin’ before they find out from someone else. Cap’n, we’ll resign if that’s best.”

 

“Don’t do that yet. Let me, aw hell.” Downing his drink Jon headed back to the liquor cabinet. “Go ahead and have Hoshi contact Soval, but keep me posted.”

 

“Thanks Cap’n,” Trip visibly relaxed.

 

“Commander Tucker?”

 

“Yes, ma'am?”

 

“Congratulations on your wedding and I am sorry for your loss.”

 

“Thank you, ma’am.”

 

“Cap’n, I need to get back to T’Pol. She’s not doing so well.”

 

“Sure, Trip, I understand. You’re off duty anyhow. Phlox told me. Go get some rest.”

 

“Thanks, Cap’n.”

 

After Trip left Erika moved to Jon and embraced him.

 

“I think you need some company tonight,” she said.

 

 

Soval had awoken at 4:30 am, and had meditated for 2 hours. Dressed as befit the Vulcan Ambassador, he was in his chair in his office at 7:00 am reviewing the overnight correspondence, when his comm chimed.

 

“Sir?” his assistant Sopek asked.

 

“Yes, Sopek?”

 

“I have an incoming transmission from ‘Enterprise’.”

 

“Direct it through.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

The view screen changed to show a Starfleet ensign. “Ambassador?”

 

“Yes, Ensign?”

 

“Can you hold for Commander T’Pol?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Commander, I have the Ambassador.”

 

“Thank you, Ensign.”

 

As the screen switched to T’Pol, Soval was disturbed at his niece’s appearance. She looked disheveled and the remnants of tears were on her face. “T’Pol-kan?”

 

“It is agreeable to speak with thee, uncle.”

 

“How may I be of service?”

 

“I seek your counsel and the services of a priest.”

 

“I will ask Captain Archer for permission to come aboard Enterprise.”

 

“That would be satisfactory.”

 

 As T’Pol disconnected, Soval knew he would need additional meditation. He had seen some preliminary incident reports from the Vulcan Security Ministry; T’Pol’s appearance had confirmed more than a few details.

 

 

Archer awoke to a cold nose and a warm body. Porthos wanted breakfast and Erika was snoring softly.

 

“Shushhh boy,”Jon said quietly, thankful that his guest had not been disturbed. For the second time in many years Jon felt at peace with the world, and wondered how to prolong it. Carefully he slithered out of bed and went to the head.

 

“Jon?” He was busted.

 

“Morning, beautiful.”

 

“What time is it?”

 

“06:30 Erica. Coffee?”

 

“Mamosa would be better, but coffee will do. Cream and sugar please, Jonathon.”

 

Jon commed the steward and asked for the coffee to be delivered to his quarters. Erica looked at him with raised eyebrows. Jon smiled, thinking how Vulcanesque they looked.

 

“Erica, I really don’t care what anybody else thinks, but if you do you'd best dive into the head,” he said grinning.

 

She thought about it for a few moments, slid out of bed and gave him a sultry smile. “Jon, I don’t care if you don’t. I do think I ought to put on some clothes, though.”

 

Watching her nude form gather her clothes and disappear into the bathroom, Jon wondered if the universe was finally becoming sane.

 

 

“Captain Archer,” came over from Ensign Pulver, third shift comm officer.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Ambassador Soval for you, sir.

 

“Put him through, Ensign.”

 

“Captain Archer,” intoned Soval.

 

“Ambassador,” he acknowledged politely.

 

“I request permission to come aboard. I also request permission for Priest Vodir of the embassy.”

 

“Certainly Ambassador, when can we expect you?”

 

“Vodir and I will dock at 10:00.”

 

“I look forward to your arrival.”

 

Nodding, Soval closed the comm, thankful that Archer had not asked for any additional information over what was certainly not a secure channel.

 

Erica poked her head out of the bathroom, showed a little leg and smiled. “You know Jonathon, Vodir is a priest….” As coffee spewed over his desk Jon coughed, pounding his chest. Then he headed to the bathroom.

 

 

“Captain, the Vulcan shuttle will be docking in 15 minutes,” announced Hoshi from her station on the bridge. She couldn’t remember the bridge being this subdued. Her thoughts drifted to the science station and T’Pol who was noticeably absent. The captain had briefed the senior staff about little Elizabeth and she had cried her eyes out. Looking over to Malcolm, he appeared grim. She knew him well enough; he blamed himself somehow. She looked over to Captain Archer, who had bounced onto the bridge this morning, but at her words he had slumped into his chair holding his head in his hands.

 

“Thank you Hoshi, please let T’Pol know. Lt. Reed, you are with me,” said Archer stiffly and headed to the turbolift.

 

Travis looked over to Hoshi. “Do you think they will ever get a break?” She just looked away as her eyes teared up again.

 

 

Holding up his hand in the ta’al, Archer said. “Live long and prosper, Ambassador.”

 

“Peace and long life, Captain Archer, Commander Reed. This is Vodir, Priest of the Vulcan Embassy.” Nods were exchanged.

 

“We will escort you to T’Pol’s quarters,” offered Archer.

 

“Captain, I think it is best that we go alone, with your permission,” replied Soval. Vodir observed the exchange behind a blank exterior. He did not know these humans and was concerned what reaction might follow.

 

Archer sighed. “You’re correct, it might be overwhelming for them.  Do you remember the way?” Soval nodded. Vodir filed away the exchange.

 

 

Trip pulled away from T'Pol as the chime rang.

 

She pulled him back on the bunk beside her and tightened her grip on his hand. “No, Ashayam, I need you here. Please do not leave me.”

 

Trip felt a surge of despair through the bond and squeezed her hand. “I'm always here for you, darlin’.” Her relief was palpable, but as he waited for her to answer the door she just looked at him expectantly. After a moment, he got the message. Raising his voice he called out “Enter”.

 

The door swooshed open revealing Soval and an ancient Vulcan. “T’Pol-kan, Commander Tucker,” said Soval, raising his hand in the ta’al. Trip looked up at the old priest and nodded. “This is Vodir, Priest of the embassy.”

 

With a deep baritone voice Vodir intoned, “How may I serve?”

 

Again T'Pol simply looked at Trip, and this time he recognized his cue. He lifted his eyes to Vodir’s and saw deep compassion in the old wizened face. He looked at the piercing eyes for a moment, unsure how to respond.

 

“Ambassador Soval, please leave us,” continued Vodir smoothly. Without a word Soval gracefully bowed and left. “May I touch your minds?” asked Vodir.

 

Trip nodded assent.

 

Looking around the room Vodir saw the candles and pillows. Slowly, without wasted motion, he rearranged T’Pol’s meditation pillows on the floor, two together and one opposite with one candle in the middle and others around the perimeter. He ignited the candles and dimmed the lights. Holding hands Trip and T’Pol settled onto the pillows placed before them. Taking the pillow opposite, Vodir intoned words unintelligible to Trip while softly touching T’Pol’s katra points. Trip felt his sadness diminish, before realizing it was T’Pol’s grief leaving him, as Vodir seemed to draw it to himself. Looking up he saw the old man staring ahead blankly and his own pain began to dissipate.

 

After several minutes Vodir withdrew his hands from T'Pol's face and addressed Trip again. “I grieve with thee and thy mate. There is no greater pain than the loss of a child. You will remain here while I consult with Soval. I suggest you resume meditating until I return.”

 

 

 

Soval had been meditating in the Observation Lounge and stood when Vodir arrived.

 

“Ambassador, we must ensure that T’Pol and her mate return to Vulcan immediately.”

 

“Mate?” asked Soval, not really surprised.

 

“Yes, mate; they share a deep yet incomplete bond. I did not know bonding was possible for a human and a vulcan. It is beyond severable, even if that was their wish.”

 

Soval’s face gave away nothing as he pondered this revelation. Looking directly at Vodir he said, “I do not believe severing the bond to be their desire.”

 

“Soval, what do you know of their child, Elizabeth? Her death has T’Pol unbalanced, although I believe that with her mate’s help she will eventually regain control.” Vodir paused and went on, “Soval, I am aware that T’Pol is your niece and you her en’ahr’at.”

 

“You have just confirmed many reports.” Soval sat down at the table.  “Vodir, had T’Pol formed a parental bond? Elizabeth was a vulcan/human clone.”

 

“There is evidence of a ruptured parental bond in T’Pol, and again the effects of an incomplete mate-bond; these disruptions and past damage to her neural pathways must be repaired.”

 

Soval looked questioningly at Vodir, who lifted his hand and continued. “Their mate bond will be remarkably strong when completed. The Kir’Shara speaks of bonds such as these. Our insistence on arranged marriages, while seemingly practical, merely enforces our caste system.” Vodir’s eyes twinkled briefly then hooded over. “Vulcan’s future could be very interesting. Can you arrange transport, or gain permission from Star Fleet for Enterprise to depart immediately?”

 

“I do not believe we can obtain permission from Star Fleet without violating the commanders’ privacy,” Soval said quietly. “The Tregar is currently in orbit around Earth. I suggest transferring one of ship’s priests to the embassy, so that you may escort the commanders to Vulcan.”

 

“A logical proposal. I will attend to the Tregar,” said Vodir.

 

Soval rose and keyed the comm. “Is Captain Archer available? I would speak with him.”

 

Hoshi's voice replied, “Ambassador, Captain Archer is at Star Fleet Headquarters. He asked that you remain aboard pending his return, if possible.”

 

“Thank you, Ensign. I will remain in the observation lounge.”

 

He turned back to Vodir. “Thank you, Vodir. Our clan is in your debt.”

 

Vodir looked him over. “While expressing gratitude is a human custom, it is a most logical custom. I wonder if the Kir’Shara will reveal new teachings on that belief as well.” Once again there was a twinkle in the old priest’s eyes, and Soval wondered if centuries of counseling had provided enlightenment or perspective.

“Peace and Long Life, Soval,” intoned Vodir, raising his hand in the ta’al.

 

“Live Long and Prosper, Vodir”

 


Comments:

Cap'n Frances

So many good things in this chapter. I liked seeing Trip and T'Pol's grief helping to bring them together rather than splitting them apart. The proposal seems rather sudden but it's easy to believe that it has been a long time coming. I liked seeing Trip making an effort to mend fences with Jon and Jon making the effort to be the friend that Trip needs. I liked the interaction between Jon and Erica and the possibility of a stronger relationship. Vodir is a a very interesting character - a wise, compassionate and open minded Vulcan priest. I hope that we will see more of him.

weeble

I have sent notes to all names i can find in the members log. I wish to send personal notes to all in thanks for your kindness. but well

 

weeble

Humbird

Very good. I can't wait to see Starfleet's reaction.

weeble

Thanks for the comments,

Distracted, thanks much i think i have figured out the paragraph thing, here's hoping.  

To all commenters,

I will send notes to everyone soon, I am visiting family out west and cant get away. If i get a free minute it will be to post chapter 2

weeble

 

Mary

A captivating start. I like your Archer, too many fan fics make him out to be mean and nasty and I just can't wrap my head around that incarnation. I likted the Archer/ Hernandez sequence, poor guy deserves to be loved. The TnT scenes seemed to jump quickly almost desperately as if forced. Some parts also get bogged down in minutae as per Alelou's comments.

Waiting for the next installment. Thanks

Transwarp

weeble,

Alelou's advice regarding scene changes is spot on, and would make a good read even better.

As for the abrupt transition from grief to proposal, I have no problem with that.  The grief is clearly still there, but so is their need to acknowledge their relationship.

The priest Vodir is an interesting character possessing an unconventional outlook that seems to anticipate many of the revelations from the Kir'Shara.  I look forward to more insights from him regarding Vulcan and Human society.

I really, REALLY like your Captain Archer.  This is the Captain I wish we'd seen more of on the series.

Hope to see chapter two soon!

Kotik

A very nice beginning. :D I agree with Distracted and Alelou over some of the minor things, like pace changes and the rather unfortunate formatting.

I like that you avoided all the post-Terra-Prime angst that has been used in many stories (T'Pol pushing him away to grieve etc.). Your idea is what I think to be a realistic post-TP scenario. The proposal seemed a bit rushed though, but it is still sort of realistic. The Archer/Hernandez scenes are well done. They are one of my minor 'ships too, so that feels just right to me :)

Keep up the good work

Charlie X

Ensign Pulver???

Holy moley, you are an old fart!

Alelou

I enjoyed the Jon and Erika scenes more than any others here, maybe because they're newer territory in fanfic.  I like your Archer, who's more sympathetic than in a lot of TnT fics.  Interesting note about the Vulcan caste system -- I assume you'll explore that more.  I also enjoyed Trip asking typical Trip questions, like just how long this was going to take.  :)

All in all, an auspicious beginning, Weeble/SteelChaser!

One piece of advice for future chapters: one of the tricks of keeping a good pace going is skipping over the boring connecting bits, like: “Sir?” his assistant Sopek asked. / “Yes, Sopek?” / “I have an incoming transmission from ‘Enterprise’.” / “Direct it through.” / “Yes, sir.” / The view screen changed to show a Starfleet ensign. “Ambassador?” / “Yes, Ensign?” / “Can you hold for Commander T’Pol?” / “Yes.” (etc.)

Just cut all that tedious stuff out.  Start the next scene in the part that matters. Maybe explain quickly, with a phrase or two, how whoever you're adding got there. 

Distracted

The transition from grief to proposal was a bit abrupt, but comprehensible. Cute scene with Archer and Erica.  I hope this is just the first chapter. : )

Small housekeeping suggestion.  Your stories will be less spread out if you set your document to add extra space automatically after each paragraph and just hit enter once. If your document is set to give no extra space after each paragraph then you have to double space between paragraphs and your story will post widely spaced as above. PM me if you have questions.

eK

good story!

weeble

Hey a comment, thanks so much.

weeble

 

Asso

Only three words.
I salute you!:D     

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