The Last Laugh

By Lys

Rating: PG

Genres: humour

Keywords:

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Disclaimer: Paramount owns Enterprise. I’m just playing with the characters. No Humans, no Vulcans, no Denobulans and no dogs were harmed in the making of this story.
Summary: It’s April Fool’s Day and someone is having fun.

A/N: This is pure silliness and not to be taken seriously. I especially want to thank Bether and Dinah for their help, patience and wonderful suggestions.


T’Pol was on the bridge earlier than usual for her shift. Today, it was quiet in the deserted mess and she hadn’t wasted time indulging in small talk with other crewmen. Shran and an Andorian delegation had visited the day before, and she suspected most of the crew would sleep in after such an eventful evening.

She acknowledged the greetings from the ensign in charge of the bridge for the gamma shift before reaching her science station. She had some simulations to run. Enterprise was currently in orbit above a Minshara-class planet, and Captain Archer had agreed to study it “the Vulcan way” before sending anyone down to the surface for shore leave. She wondered if the Captain had realized how important this course of action was or if he simply didn’t want to argue safety protocols with Lieutenant Reed, Trip and herself. He would have definitely been outnumbered on the subject.

T’Pol gathered her results and downloaded them in a PADD. It was almost time for the briefing. The Captain was certainly on his way. He had retired with Shran and a few bottles of Andorian ale late the previous evening, and she knew from experience that his mood would be like that of a polar bear. Fortunately, she had been persuasive enough and Trip hadn’t joined them.

She reached through the bond and warned him.

“Trip, you must come now or you’ll be late for the briefing.”

“Is the Cap’n already on the bridge?” he answered from Engineering.

“Not yet. I have some interesting results from my scans of the planet’s surface. I’ll bring them to his ready room. I will wait for you there.”

“You what? No, wait for me!”

T’Pol tried to reach Trip again, but he had already cut her off. She didn’t understand what the problem was, but that was a common occurrence when dealing with Commander Tucker. He was on his way now and would tell her in a few minutes.

She first dismissed the gamma crew and then she crossed the bridge. Looking up, she noticed that Lieutenant Reed had installed the modifications to the internal sensors that she had requested. There was now a little compartment in the ceiling right above the door to the Captain’s ready room. She was pleased that the Lieutenant had understood that the modifications were a priority and dealt with them immediately.

T’Pol had also, with Mister Reed’s help, programmed a command to the new sensor directly from her PADD. She made sure that the command was working effectively, and then resumed her course.

Just as she reached the ready room, Trip bolted out of the turbolift.

“No, T’Pol! Don’t open that door, please!”

T’Pol paused. She held her PADD in one hand while the other hand hovered over the door’s chime.

“Trip, it’s only the ready room.”

“It’s Captain Archer’s ready room. Don’t go in!” he said, slightly out of breath.

She turned around and studied him. He had obviously run all the way from Engineering. His concern for her was written all over his face. It was further proof that their bond was becoming stronger. He could now sense and locate her throughout the entire ship. T’Pol noticed with pleasure, that with each passing day, his need to protect her was becoming more obvious. But in this instance, she failed to understand the logic behind Trip’s “mother hen” behavior. (She recalled he had explained to her the odd expression when she had noticed how Captain Archer had become overprotective of him after their adventure in the Torothan desert years ago.) When did the ready room suddenly become the most dangerous place on Enterprise?

“Why?”

Trip ran his tongue along his cheek, glanced right and left and bowed his head towards hers. “Please, believe me. I can’t explain. It’s only something I know…intuition,” he whispered in her ear.

T’Pol raised an eyebrow. How he still managed to surprise her, even with their bond working effectively, was always a mystery to her. She decided to blame it on Trip’s very human nature and his unpredictable tendencies.

“Trip, you are being illogical. Intuition is not a proven scientific fact. It is merely a product of the subconscious mind.”

At the same moment, Archer came out of the turbolift. He was massaging his temples.

“T’Pol, Trip,” he grunted.

“Good morning, Cap’n. How was your evening with Shran?” asked Trip innocently.

“Hmmph. Every time Blue Boy comes aboard, I wake up with a headache bigger than the Vulcan’s Forge.”

“Why don’t you ask the Doc for something?”

“I believe you should follow Commander Tucker’s advice, Captain,” T’Pol chimed in. “Doctor Phlox can administer a strong painkiller to ease your headache. It is unhealthy not to seek his help.”

“I know, T’Pol. I promise I’ll visit Phlox after the briefing.” Archer waved a hand and stumbled between his two officers. T’Pol tried to follow him, but Trip took her by the elbow, slowing her pace.

Archer opened the door to his ready room only to find himself now dripping from head to toe with Andorian ale. He shook off the liquid, giving a good imitation of Porthos, and turned around. Murder was clearly written all over his face.

As usual, T’Pol stood impassively as Trip grinned sheepishly. He had released her elbow and quietly took several steps back.

“Trip?” Archer growled. He passed by T’Pol, splashing her with some droplets of ale and quickly closed the distance between himself and his Chief Engineer.

“Erm, you see, Cap’n, Shran came to the mess before leaving,” drawled Trip. “He said he brought Chef some ale -- for special occasions.”

“And…” Archer crossed his arms over his chest and leaned towards Trip.

T’Pol noticed that Trip’s face was turning decidedly red and that he was shifting his feet nervously.

“He heard some of our crewmen talking with the other Andorians about the Pinkskin’s custom of April Fool’s Day, so he asked some questions, twisted his antennae and decided he’d give it a try. That’s what he said, anyway,” answered Trip with a shrug.

T’Pol couldn’t decide if Trip actually knew how to handle the Captain in this instance or if his brain had merely taken a vacation. Humans were such a fascinating species. How fortunate that she would be able to devote herself to the study of her t’hy’la for the next sixty or seventy years.

“And it never occurred to you that I might appreciate a warning?” Archer’s eyes remained locked on Trip.

“Well…um…”

T’Pol watched with interest as the color drained from Trip’s face. Obviously he had misjudged the situation. Once again, Trip had been foolish. Would her human never learn?

Archer narrowed his eyes and towered over Trip even more.

“Or maybe you were in on it, Commander?”

Trip gulped. T’Pol felt panicky thoughts rushing to her through their bond. Flashes of the brig, weeks spent purging impulse manifolds and a year-long ban on away missions crossed her mind. She marveled at the human’s mind capacity for imagination, and Trip’s well-developed aptitude in particular.

A small pool of liquid was slowly forming on the floor beneath the Captain’s feet. T’Pol could hear droplets coming from the ready room’s ceiling in the heavy silence.

Trip turned an illogical shade of white and adopted a “standing at attention” posture. Looking like a little boy who had just broken his mother’s favorite vase, he stood and waited for the storm to fall.

Archer, obviously pleased and amused by Trip’s reaction, relaxed, smirked and turned to face T’Pol.

Trip gave an audible sigh but didn’t move an inch.

“I’m going to change and pay a visit to sickbay. I’ll see both of you in twenty minutes for the briefing.” Archer looked at the mess on the floor. “We’ll take it to the situation room.”

“Aye, Cap’n.” Trip had regained some color but was still visibly anxious.

“And Trip?”

“Yes, sir?”

“I don’t want any laughing Vulcan to show up on one of the monitors. Is that understood?”

“Aye, Cap’n,” said Trip sheepishly.

Still dripping blue ale everywhere, Archer exited the bridge, muttering curses and wishing he had cut off the Andorian’s other antenna.

He was already in the turbolift when he added as an afterthought, “At ease, Commander.”

Then he was gone.

T’Pol felt relief through the bond, amusement and then suppressed laughter as Trip adopted a more relaxed stance.

“Intuition?”

Trip shrugged. “Ah, come on, T’Pol, that was fun. You should try it.”

“Indeed.”

T’Pol entered a command on her PADD. The small compartment Lieutenant Reed had modified at her request opened in the ceiling, and a powdery cloud surrounded Trip.

She witnessed, with barely hidden amusement, a myriad of expressions crossing Trip’s face as realization dawned on him that it was payback time. Curiosity, shock and fear appeared successively.

T’Pol reached the turbolift. Her calculations had shown that the bridge would be clear of the substance in approximately fifteen minutes. A sudden wave of apprehension came through the bond. She turned around.

Trip’s eyes were watering and he tried very hard to pinch his nose with his hand. He opened his mouth as to speak and swallowed a good measure of the powder.

T’Pol sent him a mental picture of a smirk on her face. Yes, this human custom had some merits.

“I believe Lieutenant Reed calls it sneezing powder. He informed me that using it today would improve my understanding of human culture and traditions. He was correct. April Fool’s Day, Trip.”

“T’P…aachooo!”

Safe and alone in the turbolift, she indulged herself in just a hint of a smile when she heard Trip sneezing repeatedly. Her next stop would be sickbay. The Captain would likely be planning an act of revenge, but no one had the right to interfere with her human. No one…except her.


Comments:

DemolitionDani

that was awsome!!!!!!! it was hilarious i loved it!:p:p;)

mary
Still chuckling at this one. Cute!!
cherryblossomjen
HIlarious! I love it.

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