You Are Cordially Invited

By Bluetiger

Rating: PG

Genres: drama romance


This story has been read by 816 people.
This story has been read 1293 times.

Rating: PG, for mild language and sexual situations.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek, I just play with the people I like.

Summary: From the "Love Languages" universe, the courtship and marriage of Trip and T'Pol.

Author's Note:This also references 'Wrecked: A Night in the Desert' from T'Pol's POV.

justTrip'n's note: "******" indicates a flashback "/*******" indicates end flashback.

It was a beautiful Saturday morning and Dr. Alan Tucker was driving across the bay into San Francisco to ask his brother an important question. Alan had been a professor of mathematics at Berkeley for quite a few years. Like his brother, Captain Charles Tucker, Alan had an athletic physique and brown-blonde hair. There had been no shortage of girlfriends in his life, but he had never come close to marrying, until now.

During the birth and subsequent illness of his brother’s child, Alan had come to know a wonderful woman. Julia Carter was a neo-natal intensive care nurse at Starfleet Medical. With dark red hair and slightly on the short side at five feet two, Julia had a dynamic and cheerful personality that drew people to her. All of the Tuckers had leaned on her during the time of baby Morgan’s illness.

However, after the baby regained his health and went home, Alan found he missed seeing Julia. At first she had resisted going out with him, seeing how women at the hospital seemed to flock to his good looks. It made Julia wonder if Alan was just a womanizer. The Tucker charm eventually won her over and they began to date. Julia soon realized that Alan was devoted to his family and career, almost not realizing his effect on the opposite sex. They had a very similar sense of humor and many interests in common. After only a few months, Alan had proposed to Julia.

Pulling his car into the driveway, back of his brother’s house, Alan saw his older brother, Charles Tucker the Third, sitting on the ground among a pile of lumber.

“Trip, what are you doing?”

“Hey Alan, I can’t seem to keep T’Resa outa this damn tree, so I decided to build her a tree house.”

Alan looked at his brother thoughtfully, “I sure hope you do a better job on it than you did on our raft.”

Trip smiled at his younger brother, “I was only nine at the time, and what are you complaining about anyway, you could swim.”

“Good thing, cause that raft fell apart as soon as you launched us onto Miller’s pond.”

Trip chuckled at the memory, “Yeah, I didn’t exactly have raft construction figured out did I?”

Alan laughed as well, “Makes me nervous for my niece.”

“You do realize that I have since gotten degrees in physics, engineering, and warp theory, don’t you.”

“Lord Trip, please tell me you aren’t going to put nacelles on it!”

Trip scowled at his little brother, “Dumbass, did you come by for any reason besides to heckle me?”

“Actually I did. The heckling is just a bonus. Julia and I have set the date for our wedding, the second Saturday in June. I wondered if you would be my best man.”

“I’d be honored to stand up with you, only tell me I don’t have to wear my dress uniform,” Trip replied with a shudder.

“All those decisions will be Julia’s. I’m just going to keep my mouth shut, put on whatever tux she picks out, and show up.”

Trip nodded, “Probably a good idea. Women are better at organizing these shindigs.”

“Speaking of which,” Alan asked, “Where is your better half?”

“T’Pol had to take our little guy to see Doctor Phlox. It’s just for a check-up and some shots. Hey, want to help me with the tree house?”

“Sorry, I’m on my way to meet Julia for lunch, besides you scare me with power tools.”

“Ha, Ha, you guys come to dinner next week, T’Pol will call Julia.”

“Sure thing, see you then,” with a wave Alan drove down the driveway.

Trip turned back to the blueprints for T’Resa’s elaborate tree house, “Nacelles, huh?”

Trip and T’Pol were in the kitchen preparing their dinner. “How far did you progress with your construction project today?”

“I got the supports up and the framing for the floor done.”

“This will be a sound structure will it not?”

Trip rolled his eyes, “You sound like Alan. Yes, Hon. When I’m done, this tree house will hold the weight of five grown men jumping up and down.”

“I will be content if it keeps our daughter and her friends safely contained,” T’Pol said while slicing carrots for a salad.

Trip slipped up behind her placing one hand on her hip and reaching around her to snatch a carrot strip.

“Have a little faith. If I can build warp engines, this will be a piece of cake.”

Trip kissed her neck and, with a grin, popped the carrot into his mouth. In truth T’Pol had no doubts about her husband’s abilities. He was one of the most competent individuals she had ever met, but their banter was a comforting habit they had developed over many years together. The kitchen was beginning to fill with the aroma of the red beans and rice dish that was the main course.

“Oh man that smells good. I’m starving, how soon will we be ready to eat?”

T’Pol paused and tilted her head slightly to the side, “Morgan is waking up, why don’t you go see to him while I finish the salad, then dinner should be ready.”

Trip walked into the nursery and looked down at his grinning son. He couldn’t get enough of the sight of that sweet face with tiny pointed ears.

“Hey there little man, did you have a good nap? Lets see if you need a dry diaper.”

Trip unsnapped his son’s pj’s and gave the leg hole of the diaper a peek.

“Well of course you do, what was I thinking. Lets take care of that and then we can go see Momma.”

Morgan wiggled and kicked through the entire procedure but Trip’s diapering skills where well honed. In no time his son was changed and in his arms. Together they entered the kitchen to find T’Pol gathering plates and silverware.

“Here I’ll trade with you.”

Trip kissed his baby boy’s beautiful brown hair and handed him off to his wife. After setting the dining table, he carried their meal in. Serving them both, he began to eat voraciously.

T‘Pol balanced Morgan while managing to eat her meal and feed the baby cereal with pureed fruit simultaneously, a skill that Trip could never master.

“I hope Mom and Dad are enjoying having T’Resa with them for a few days, it sure has been quiet around here today.”

“She could hardly wait for their arrival yesterday, T’Resa had been anticipating this trip for a week.”

“Yeah, she does love to visit her grandparents. I’m sure they’re spoilin’ her rotten. Did she remember to take those pictures she drew to show Grandma Theresa?”

“Of course, she was most insistent that they be packed carefully,” T’Pol replied while bringing Morgan to her shoulder and rubbing his back.

Trip sat back in utter contentment, “That was a great meal. All I need now is a dish of butter pecan ice cream.”

T’Pol was amazed at the amount of food her husband could consume and not become ill.

“I’ll clean up the table, if you’d like to take short-stuff in the living room.”

T’Pol was rocking her son when Trip called from the kitchen, “Can I bring you anything, Darlin’?”

“No thank you, I may have some tea later.”

Trip entered the room with what T’Pol considered an obscenely large bowl of ice cream. They always seemed to have at least five flavors of ice cream in their freezer at any given time.

“You mentioned your brother earlier, have you spoken to him recently?”

“Uh huh, he came by today while you were seeing Doctor Phlox. They’ve set the date for the wedding and he wants me to be his best man. Oh, by the way, I invited them to dinner one day next week. You need to call Julia and set it up. I hope that’s alright?”

“Of course, after all that she did to ease our distress during Morgan’s illness, I feel as if Julia is already a part of our family.”

“She really was a rock, especially that second night when we weren’t sure he was going to make it.”

Trip was chilled by the memory, “Thank goodness Alan had enough sense to grab such a wonderful woman and not let go.”

With a perfectly straight face and a wicked gleam in her eye T’Pol replied, “I have noticed that Tucker men do tend to select superior mates.”

Trip began to choke and sputter with laughter as he nearly inhaled the ice cream in his mouth.

When T’Pol returned to the living room after putting Morgan to bed, the first thing she noticed was the scent of her favorite tea. Trip was sitting on the sofa holding out a cup to her. He had a cozy fire going and motioned her over. Handing her the cup with his left hand, Trip put his right arm over her shoulder and pulled T’Pol close. For a while they just sat in silence enjoying the fire and each other.

Finally Trip spoke, “You know it wasn’t necessary for you to give me such a hard time when I proposed to you.”

“I do not know to what you are referring.”

“Oh, how about the fact that you refused me, twice!”

“It was not a decision to be made lightly.”

Taking the now empty tea cup from her hand, Trip eased his wife back until she was lying on the sofa. He then covered T’Pol’s body with his own. It never failed to thrill them both how perfectly they fit together.

“I’ll grant you that, but I knew right away that I wanted to be with you forever,” Trip leaned in and gave his wife a long, slow, heartfelt kiss. He pulled back and looked deep into her eyes.

“Fortunately for you, I received some excellent advice,” T’Pol murmured leaning up to reclaim her husband’s lips.


Trip was in sickbay, the result of a freak accident on shore leave. While riding a motorcycle in the desert, an earthquake and accompanying landslide had left Trip with a concussion and severely broken leg. As he lay trapped under the wreckage for hours, Trip’s mind conjured up the image of his dead sister, Lizzie, to keep him company.

T’Pol had manned the sensors all day in an effort to locate the crewmembers on the surface. All had been found easily with the exception of the one she most desired to locate. With a frustration she would never admit to, T’Pol turned the task over to her replacement, Ensign Douglas, and retired to her cabin.

Lighting a candle, T’Pol settled herself on the floor to meditate. She tried, but could not center herself. All the Vulcan science officer could think of was the missing engineer.

T’Pol’s mind cried out, “Trip where are you? Tell me where you went today, we can’t find you.”

With a gasp, T’Pol realized she could hear Trip’s voice in her mind, “T’Pol, It’s dark. I can’t see you. Are you a hallucination too? My sister Lizzie is here keeping me company. She says I should tell you about how I’m in love with you. But I’m afraid that you don’t love me.”

T’Pol could tell that Trip was injured in some way and that his mind was a bit fuzzy.

Fearing she would lose her connection to him, she practically shouted his rank, “Commander! Try to concentrate, where are you?”

Trip finally seemed to understand and gave the worried Vulcan woman his approximate location in the desert. After assuring him that help was coming, T’Pol broke their connection and hurried back to the bridge. Taking her place at the sensors back from a surprised Ensign, T’Pol quickly zeroed in on the correct location.

Knowing that Trip’s rescue was imminent, she took a moment to think about the ramifications of their connection. There was no other conclusion possible, they had somehow developed a mate-bond. T’Pol hovered outside of sickbay until she was sure that all of the commander’s visitors had gone for the night.

The phrase ‘I’m in love with you’ kept running over and over in her mind. She wondered if the battered engineer would have admitted this to her if he had realized that she was not a figment of his imagination. T’Pol decided that she did not wish to broach the subject of their bond until Trip was feeling better, but she couldn’t resist letting him know what she had heard. After teasing him about his sister keeping him company, T’Pol made sure to tell the shocked man that he had told her ‘a few other items of great interest’, before making a hasty exit.

The next day, the Vulcan first officer timed her visit perfectly, entering sickbay and proceeding to the commander’s bedside. As hoped, Phlox asked if T’Pol would stay with his patient while he went to the mess hall for dinner. Bracing for the coming conversation, T’Pol began by asking Trip how he was feeling.

“Much better now that my head has stopped pounding. Phlox says my leg’s gonna take a while, plus some therapy. All things considered it could have been much worse.”

Trip glanced up almost shyly, “T’Pol what is going on between us? I’ve noticed for a long time now that it seems as if I can almost sense your feelings, if they’re very strong. I can name several instances when I just knew you were in trouble and yesterday… how could you possibly have known that I was hallucinating my sister, or where to find me?”

Trip held his hands up in a gesture of frustration. “Trip this will be difficult for you to believe, I myself thought it impossible.”

T’Pol unconsciously began to pace back and forth beside the bed.

Trip was surprised to see his normally stoic Vulcan friend become so visibly agitated, “T’Pol please, just tell me.”

Facing the injured engineer, T’Pol took a cleansing breath and spoke, “I believe that our minds have become linked in what is known as a Vulcan mate-bond.”

She continued quickly, “It is common for mated Vulcan couples to form a psychic bond, the sharing of emotions and in some instances thoughts. It is the ability to constantly sense your mate’s presence in the back of your mind and on some level be aware of their needs. I did not believe it was possible to form such a bond with a human.”

T’Pol knew that if she were human, she would be rambling, but the mere fact that Trip had not spoken was slightly unnerving. By the look on his face, she could tell he was deep in thought. Under normal circumstances, Trip would have already interrupted her explanation with questions at least three times, but still he was silent.

“Trip, do you comprehend what I am telling you?”

The frown that marred his face suddenly cleared as a slow smile began to appear.

“Oh I understand, you’re telling me that we’re a mated couple. T’Pol, I couldn’t be happier. I love you, have for a while now. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

Trip’s grin grew wider, “You can give me the details of how this happened later, all that matters is that now I know you care for me too. I want us to be married as soon as possible . . .”

“No! Trip, you don’t understand. That is impossible,” T’Pol was reigning in her distress as best she could.

“We can never marry, there are too many obstacles for us to ever have a successful relationship.”

“What do you mean? You must want me T’Pol, could this bond thing have formed against your will?”

“Both parties must be of like mind for the bond to form, however that doesn’t negate the problems such a union would incur.”

“We can deal with whatever problems arise. T’Pol, I love you,” Trip was becoming upset.

This proposal of marriage was not at all what T’Pol had been expecting. Leave it to Trip to jump in at warp speed. Realizing the need to stop his head long rush, T’Pol decided to cut her visit short.

“Trip, think about this logically and you will realize it can never work. I will return tomorrow and we will talk further.”

Trying to appear not to run, she left sickbay with all haste. In the corridor, T’Pol moved quickly toward her cabin. What had she been thinking? There must have been a way to tell Trip about the bond without him jumping to all the wrong conclusions. How could she ever marry an emotional human?

As her cabin door slide shut behind her, T’Pol realized that the instant Trip had said ‘I love you’ was when her logic failed her.

Phlox entered sickbay to find a very depressed looking engineer. “Commander?” Phlox said looking around in confusion, “I assumed that T’Pol would remain with you until I returned.”

“Yeah, well word to the wise, never assume anything about a Vulcan!” Trip fairly growled.

Robin Tucker looked at the image of her son on the viewer. Although he was assuring them that he was fine, she could tell he was troubled. When the message ended she turned to her husband, “Charles, did Trip seem funny to you?”

“I’m guessin’ you mean aside from the fact he was just in a serious accident?”

“I’ve seen my baby injured enough times, that was something else, a deeper hurt.”

Charles pondered for a minute, “We could call him real-time and try to get him to talk, but . . .”

Robin shook her head, “You know how Trip is, until he’s ready we won’t get much out of him. Maybe in a couple days.”

Charles turned to his mother who had been sitting quietly, “Mom, are you coming to the garden with us?”

Theresa Tucker looked up, “No, I believe I’ll stay here and read for a while, you guys go ahead. Pick me a couple of squash to fry for supper will you please, Darlin’.”

“Sure thing Momma.”

Trip’s concerned parents walked off still talking about their beloved son. Theresa sat thinking for a moment and then walked over to the communication desk. She had always painted because she loved doing it, but Theresa sold her work so she could afford to do whatever the hell she wanted to. It was very expensive to call Enterprise real-time, but she wanted to talk to her grandson.

Trip was in a very bad mood. His second talk with T’Pol had not gone any better than the first. The ever optimistic engineer thought that he just needed to explain to her how they were meant to be together.

Late last night, Trip had casually questioned Phlox about what he knew of Vulcan mating habits. It was surprisingly easy to get the doctor off on a tangent. One piece of information he gleaned was very reassuring. It seemed that a Vulcan female’s sex drive automatically adjusted to her mates. The seven year deal that Kov had told him about was only because that was a Vulcan male’s cycle. Phlox seemed sure that it would adjust to whatever species the mate belonged to. Trip assured him that he was only interested hypothetically of course.

Later that night he had also surfed the Vulcan database for all the information available on mate-bonds. Best he could gather it was a lifetime commitment. Surely she would accept his second proposal.

T’Pol however, countered with stupid arguments about different cultures, vastly different life spans, and how the rest of the world would perceive them. By the time she left, Trip didn’t want to marry her anymore, he wanted to strangle her.

The comm unit, which Trip had requested to send a message to his parents, suddenly beeped. Hoshi’s voice called to Trip, “Commander, I have a real-time call for you from Earth.”

He was surprised, but asked her to put it through. “Grandma!”

Theresa looked at him and shook her head, “Hey Baby-Boy.”

Trip hung his head, “I know, here I am all stove up again.”

Theresa smiled, “You knew the job was dangerous when you took it, Fred.”

Trip burst into laughter, it was the first time he had laughed in days.

“Now,” Grandma said, “Tell me what that woman has done to you.”

Trip drew in a deep breath, “Have you been able to read minds all these years and forgot to tell me?”

Theresa chuckled, “All I had to do was read between the lines of the letters you send me. It wasn’t hard for me to figure out you love that Vulcan friend of yours. Plus the fact that I’ve seen you through enough girl troubles over the years. That face screams broken heart.”

“You never cease to amaze me.” Trip gave her a rueful smile, “ No wonder we kids couldn’t get away with anything.”

“So, what’s going on? . . . And don’t even think about messing with me young man.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Trip collected his thoughts for a moment, “Ok, here it is. I’m in love with T’Pol and she has the same feelings for me. The problem is, the obstacles are all she can focus on. I’ve asked her twice to marry me, but she thinks our cultures are too different. She also thinks the prejudice we’ll face might be overwhelming. You know though, T’Pol’s biggest concern seems to be that Vulcan’s life spans are so much longer than human’s. I guess she’s hesitant to commit to someone that won’t be there for a lifetime.”

Trip sounded so forlorn, Theresa just wished she could reach out and give him a hug.

“Honey, I know there’s nothing I can say right now to make it better, just try to get well. When you start feeling better, it’ll seem more manageable. For what an old lady’s opinion is worth, I have a feeling that things will eventually work themselves out.”

“You know Grandma, I do feel a little better just for being able to talk to someone about it.”

“That’s good, Sweet-pea. Keep us up to date on your recovery. Love you, Trip.”

“Love you too, Grandma.”

Theresa sat back in her chair to think after the connection was broken. Leaning forward again she pulled up the file of Trip’s letters to her. Deep in thought she began to scan the letters for mentions of T’Pol.

A candle flickered before the Vulcan woman sitting on her cushion. As had been the case lately, she could not focus properly to achieve a meditative state. T’Pol was actually relieved when the comm sounded, giving her something else to think about. She wondered briefly why Hoshi had a slight smile on her face as she informed the science officer that she had a communiqué.

As the screen came to life, T’Pol was surprised to be facing an attractive older human woman. Taking in the woman’s appearance, shoulder length brown-blonde hair with streaks of gray and piercing blue eyes, T’Pol was fairly certain to whom she was related.

“Commander T’Pol, my name is Theresa Tucker. I believe you are a fairly close acquaintance of my grandson.”

Although totally shocked, her Vulcan persona stayed tightly in place as she replied, “I am pleased to meet you. Commander Tucker has spoken of you often.”

Theresa chuckled, “Well Commander, I hope you’re still pleased after our talk. My grandson has been writing to me about you for quite a while now. I’ve tried to get some grasp of the nature of Vulcans. Trip has explained that you have emotions, but keep them tightly under your control.”

“That is an accurate statement,” T’Pol conceded.

“Commander, I am a very visual person, the creation of an image helps me to understand things. I tend to think of your emotions as a stream running through a meadow in your mind. You’re always aware it’s there, but with total control of it’s flow. When angry the stream churns, when happy it bubbles, always there but not acknowledged.”

T’Pol looked at the face of her bond-mates foremother, “That is an acceptable metaphor, you have a keen insight Mrs. Tucker.”

“Please, call me Theresa.”

“And I would be honored if you called me T’Pol.”

“Well T’Pol, I guess you would like an explanation of this call,” the Vulcan woman gave a slight nod of her head, so Theresa continued.

“I spoke to Trip, so I am aware that the two of you have a powerful connection. My Grandson does not give his love lightly. I know that he is committed to you. You my dear, are the wild card in this relationship. While you probably think this is none of my business, that boy means the world to me. T’Pol, if his habits annoy you, the idea of waking up with him at your side every morning is repugnant, or you just think he smells bad, please walk away. However, if you cherish him as he does you, don’t let foolishness stand in your way. If your cultural differences are an issue, teach each other. A little patience will go a long way to achieve understanding. I personally have lived long enough to see what prejudice can do to people, but the only way to bring about change is for strong people to show others the way. You and Trip are strong. Decide if the opinions of the narrow minded are more important than you two building a life together. Finally, there are no guarantees in this life. I had expected to have my beloved husband with me for seventy or eighty years. Well, I only got thirty-seven, but they were damn fine years. Believe me, I’ll take the pain and loneliness since his loss, gladly, for the love, family, and memories we made in those brief thirty-seven years.”

Theresa’s voice broke and T’Pol could see she was close to tears. The young Vulcan did not know what to say to the emotional human.

“I guess that’s all I wanted to say. Bless your heart, if you can’t see the right of what I’m saying, Vulcans have no logic, they’re just full of hooey.”

Returning to her good southern manners Theresa concluded, “It was a pleasure to meet you Miss T’Pol.”

The connection then severed.

This was the first time T’Pol had ever been ‘open mouth’ with astonishment.

Trip was making his way back to his quarters leaning heavily on a cane. Doctor Phlox had just released him on the condition that he would be back tomorrow for therapy. The heavy-hearted engineer was hungry but couldn’t muster the will to go to the mess hall. He hadn’t laid eyes on that stubborn Vulcan since his second proposal several days ago.

Trip reached his cabin. Leaning on his cane to keep weight off his bad leg, Trip punched in his access code and entered his quarters. Expecting a dark interior, he was surprised to see lit candles and dinner for two laid out on his desk. As his eyes adjusted to the low light, Trip noticed a figure sitting on the edge of his bunk.

T’Pol stood slowly, locking eyes neither spoke until she noticed Trip sway slightly, “Please sit, you need to get off your injured leg.”

Trip nodded, hobbling to his desk chair and sinking into it. He appeared almost dazed by this turn of events. “This smells great,” he remarked absently, “I’m very hungry.”

“I know.”

“Yeah, I guess you would according to my research on the bond.” Trip was speaking very matter-of-factly, as if discussing the weather. “We’re suppose to sense stuff like that aren’t we?” There was a pause where T’Pol was gathering her thoughts and Trip was just plain confused. “I don’t understand T’Pol, why are you here? I thought you said all you had to say the other day.”

“That was before I spoke to your grandmother.”

Trip’s eyes grew wide, “My Grandma! Oh Lord what did she do?”

“Theresa called me several days ago, she gave me her insights on our relationship.”

Trip closed his eyes, dropped his head down and began to mutter, “No, no, no, tell me she didn’t . . . please somebody shoot me now.”

“She only seems to have your best interests in mind.” T’Pol seemed genuinely puzzled, but continued on, “Your grandmother is a very strong willed individual.”

“Tell me about it.”

“She convinced me that if our desire to be together was strong enough, we could overcome the inherent obstacles.”

“Hold on a minute, isn’t that exactly what I said?!”

“Well . . . she was more persuasive. Theresa has many valuable insights.”

“Theresa? How did you two become such good buddies after one conversation?”

“Actually, we have spoken several times over the last few days.”

“This just keeps gettin’ better and better,” suddenly the humor of the situation struck Trip full force. “So now my Grandma is gettin’ girls for me,” he began to laugh just this side of hysterically.

T’Pol convinced Trip that they needed to eat before continuing their conversation. The fatigued engineer had to agree, he was starting to relax a little. Maybe things were beginning to look up. The meal was consumed and painkillers taken as T’Pol insisted.

“Now, I have to know T’Pol, where do we stand.”

Trip was still sitting in his desk chair with his broken left leg propped up on an empty cargo container. Meanwhile the beautiful Vulcan woman gently paced in front of his bunk.

“I have researched human custom and believe this is the way to proceed.”

T’Pol went over to the cabinet on which rested Trip’s antique diving helmet. Reaching behind it she pulled out a red rose. Walking to Trip she knelt on one knee and held out the rose, “Charles Tucker will you marry me?”

A landed fish had nothing on the surprised engineer. With an open mouth and totally speechless, all Trip could think of was this is so wrong and so totally perfect. “Yes, T’Pol of Vulcan, I will marry you.”

Taking the rose, he pulled her to his lap and kissed the woman of his dreams.

Later that night, the newly engaged couple were cuddled up in Trip’s bunk being very careful of his injury. “I guess I should send Grandma a great big thank-you note.”

“We should do something special to thank her for her assistance,” T’Pol agreed.

Chuckling Trip joked, “Maybe we should name our first child after her.”

He missed seeing T’Pol’s tilted head and raised eyebrow.


Trip and T’Pol were both panting, trying to catch their breath. Clothes were littered all over the living room floor. “Now I understand why you insisted that we purchase this over-sized sofa,” T’Pol said, still a little breathless.

With a kiss Trip eased himself to the side, taking some of his weight off his wife. With a contented sigh he said, “A man has to think ahead when making a major purchase you know.”

Despite the fire, he felt T’Pol shiver as their bodies cooled. Trip reached up and grabbed the afghan off the back of the couch to cover them. “I’m so glad you asked me to marry you,” Trip murmured.

“It was the only logical thing to do,” T’Pol replied.

“By the way, I have been meaning to ask you for many years now, what is ‘hooey’?”

Early the following Friday morning, the Tucker brothers were in the backyard working on the tree house. Alan had no classes to teach and Trip had taken the day off. He wanted to complete the project before his parents brought T’Resa home tomorrow.

“You know Trip, I didn’t realize you would have this much done.”

“Yeah, well I’ve been working on it every evening after work.”

Working efficiently together, the brothers, each on a ladder, began the roofing. About seven hours later, T’Pol and Julia stepped out onto the deck. Trip and Alan had just finished putting all the tools and leftover lumber in the garage. Both men were lying in the grass, catching their breath, looking up at the fruits of their labor.

“You know Trip, even without nacelles, that’s a great tree house.”

“It did turn out pretty good didn’t it,” Trip said with pride.

Julia bent down and patted Alan on the head, “Who knew my big old math geek had such hidden talents.”

“Hey, my talents are many and unique. How was work today, Honey?” the younger Tucker brother asked.

“Good, we had three babies born today, and only one needed my services.” Julia stood up as she answered.

“I don’t know how you do what you do.” Trip said with a shake of his head, “All those sick babies.”

T’Pol joined the conversation, “You were a great help to us, but I also wonder how you are able to put yourself through that daily?”

Julia thought for a minute, “I guess it’s a calling like any other, babies like Morgan make it all worthwhile. As for the others at least I make their time as easy as I possibly can.”

Getting to his feet, her husband-to-be gave Julia a hug, “You are a wonderful woman.”

“Of course I am, my talents are many and unique.”

Laughing they walked toward the house. The ladies went to the kitchen to start preparations for dinner, while the guys got cleaned up. Trip entered the kitchen to find Julia sitting on a bar stool holding Morgan and T’Pol working on the spaghetti sauce.

“I offered to help, but T’Pol said she has it under control,” Julia said while bouncing a giggling baby.

Trip tickled his son’s tummy, “Let me tell you, since she perfected our Mom’s recipe, T’Pol won’t let anyone near it.”

“You may, however, prepare the salad and bread, Husband.”

“You’re too kind,” Trip responded with a laugh.

The group moved to the living room for an after dinner glass of wine. Alan raised his glass to his hostess, “T’Pol, don’t dare tell Mom, but I think you’ve actually improved her spaghetti sauce.”

“It was delicious,” Julia said agreeing with her fiancé.

“Thank you, I have begun to add a Vulcan herb that seems to enhance the flavor.”

Trip looked surprised, “You never told me that!”

“Isn’t it customary on Earth for women to keep their special recipes a secret?”

Smiling at his wife he said, “It is indeed.”

Inevitably talk came around to the impending nuptials. “So, how are the plans coming?” Trip wanted to know.

Julia sighed, “Everything is still in the preliminary stages, there’s just so much to decide on.”

“If I may be of any assistance, I will be pleased to help,” T’Pol offered.

“I’ll definitely be taking you up on that. I would love for T’Resa to be our flower girl. She’ll look like an angel carrying a basket of rose petals.”

T’Pol nodded her head, “I am sure she will be honored to participate."

Julia shook her head, “So many decisions to make: colors, flowers, food. Do you guys have pictures from your wedding?”

Trip suddenly looked embarrassed and Alan began to snicker.

Julia looked confused, “Did I say something wrong?”

“Yeah Trip, show her the pictures,” Alan was belly laughing by now.

Trip shot his brother a murderous glare.

“Of course we have pictures,” T’Pol said rising to retrieve their photo album.


The invitaion read, ‘You are cordially invited to the wedding of T’Pol of Vulcan to Charles Morgan Tucker the Third’. Unfortunately, they had been forced to change the date twice already. Trip and T’Pol were beginning to feel that the fates were conspiring against them. The couple had been engaged for three months and although they were practically living together already, Trip was anxious to make it official.

There had been a certain amount of posturing from Starfleet about married officers on the same ship. In the end however, with Trip and T’Pol being as important as they were to the organization, the threat of leaving was enough to get a special dispensation. Since it appeared that it would be nearly a year before they returned to Earth again, the couple decided to let Captain Archer marry them aboard Enterprise.

This wedding was planned as a more human type affair because, from T’Pol’s point of view, they were already married. Once she came to terms with their connection, and the knowledge that the last thing they wanted was to have it broken, she fell into their relationship full force. The mate-bond forming sealed the deal as far as Vulcans were concerned. Plans for the ceremony were made. Trip asked Malcolm to be his best man and T’Pol asked Hoshi to be her honor attendant.

Two days before the wedding, Captain Archer and T’Pol had a first contact meeting with a species called the Hispar. The crew of the Enterprise had become accustomed to indulging the many cultures they encountered in their local ceremonial traditions. The Hispar would not let them enter The Great Hall to meet their chancellor until the captain and his first officer bore the mark of friendship. T’Pol scanned the black face paint for toxic materials. It checked clean and they allowed the Hisparian priest to apply the marks. When he was done both officers wore an intricate scrolling pattern that covered exactly half of their face. Captain Archer remarked that it looked like the tattoos worn by Maori in New Zealand on Earth.

After the shuttle pod deposited them back on Enterprise, T’Pol went immediately to her cabin to wash the paint away. She feared that Trip would tease her unmercifuly if he saw her face. To her growing unease, T’Pol began to realize that the marks would not come off. She decided to head for sickbay in the hopes that Phlox would be able to remove it. In the end, it seemed that the paint reacted to the copper in her blood and became virtually indelible. Trip tried with all his might to convince her that it didn’t matter, but T’Pol categorically refused to be married until the two weeks had elapsed that Phlox predicted it would take the markings to wear off. Trip even offered to have a similar design painted on his face in the hope of changing her mind. T’Pol eventually had to confess to Trip that one of the designs made a pattern very similar to Vulcan script. When all she got was a puzzled frown, T’Pol heaved a very un-Vulcan sigh and through gritted teeth said, “I refuse to be married with a Vulcan obscenity printed on my cheek.” Trip realized that he was beating a dead horse, so a second wedding date was selected.

The weeks passed and everyone threw themselves into the preparations again. Chef prepared a gorgeous buffet table with dish after dish of delicacies and the most beautiful cake he had ever created. T’Pol wore a champagne beige lace gown of Vulcan design that was absolutely stunning. Trip, Malcolm, and the Captain all wore their dress uniforms. Hoshi, however, wanted to use the occasion to dress up, so she wore a gown of dark blue that complemented the guys uniforms. The cargo bay was festively decorated for the occasion. Flowers had been kept in stasis, gathered from a planet rich in flora they visited months ago. All crewmen not on duty had been seated and the wedding party proceeded to the alter.

Instead of being seated, Chef stood at the door to the reception area to watch the ceremony. The normally well behaved Porthos had gotten into the reception area and unbeknownst to anyone lept to the buffet table and started to devour the cheese trays. Obviously unable to control himself, the little dog began to gorge on Chef’s wonderful spread. However when he began to lick the elegant wedding cake the whole thing toppled over.

Chef turned at the sound and with an agonized cry, proceeded to chase the small dog down the aisle waving a carving knife. Trip was just reaching for T’Pol’s hand when they heard the ruckus. Everyone turned to see the little beagle running toward them with white frosting all over his snout. Terrified, Porthos made a heroic leap into his daddy’s arms and then promptly threw up all over the captain’s uniform. Everyone stood still in amazement until Malcolm, with his notoriously queasy stomach, followed suit and threw up on Trip’s shoes. The smell that assaulted T’Pol’s sensitive nose was too much and she turned and bolted from the room. There was a considerable uproar until Chef was calmed and Porthos’ life was saved. Needless to say the wedding was once again postponed.

Trip was about to dispair of them ever getting married. It had been several days since the second aborted wedding. This particular day had been a hell of a day in engineering. Trip was tired and disgruntled so T’Pol put her beloved mate to bed early. She had arranged to meet Hoshi in her cabin for hot chocolate and ‘girl talk’. Hoshi answered her door wearing sweat pants and a football shirt with the number 24 on it. T’Pol was wearing a rose-colored, long, flannel nightgown. Hoshi had given T’Pol a bridal shower several weeks ago. The flannel granny nightgown had been a gag gift aimed at Trip. T’Pol had opened the box pulling out the soft, warm, gown with white lace around the yoke and sleeves. She seemed so pleased with the gift that Hoshi didn’t have the heart to explain.

T’Pol was sitting on the bunk with her feet pulled up inside her nightgown drinking chocolate.

“Have you guys made any plans yet to reschedule?” Hoshi asked.

“As much as Trip wishes this marriage to take place, he is too depressed to speak of it right now.”

Hoshi tried to comfort her friend, “In a few days he’ll be his old cheerful self again, raring to make plans.”

“Perhaps, but I wonder if he is trying too hard in an effort to please me. The trappings of the occasion do not matter to me. I simply wish to be Trip’s wife.”

The young communications officer was deep in thought for a minute, “It’s too bad people don’t have surprise weddings. You could just go grab Trip and do it now.”

T’Pol’s head came up, “Do you think that would be possible!?”

Hoshi chuckled, “I was joking . . . but you know, I bet we could pull it off.” She was getting excited about the idea, “You mean just like we are, PJ’s and all?”

“Yes,” T’Pol replied, “ Do you think Trip would agree to it?”

Hoshi laughed, “If we arrange everything, then send Malcolm to collect Trip, he won’t have much of a chance to argue.”

Hoshi was nothing if not good at her job. Within half an hour, invitations to the first Enterprise slumber party/wedding were all over the ship. Crewmembers in their pajamas and various sleep clothing were assembling in the cargo bay.

Trip was sound asleep when he heard the chime. He staggered to the door, “Malcolm, what do you want at this hour?” Although he wasn’t quite sure what the hour was, knowing that he had gone to bed early.

“Come on Trip, T’Pol needs you,” Malcolm told him, grabbing his arm and pulling him quickly down the corridor.

Trip’s sleep befuddled brain was more concerned with T’Pol than where they were going. “Is she hurt or something?” he asked anxiously.

“Just hurry,” Malcolm urged.

When the cargo bay doors opened, Trip just stood there stunned.



Julia looked at the album sitting in T’Pol’s lap and started to giggle. Trip was standing hand-in-hand with T’Pol wearing blue and white stripe pajama pants and a t-shirt that read ‘Go Gaters’. T‘Pol, of course, looked lovely in her rose and lace granny gown. Captain Archer was behind them with his bible wearing a plaid bathrobe, while Malcolm had on grey sweat pants and his blue undershirt. Picture after picture showed the ceremony, Hoshi holding T’Pol’s bouquet wearing her football jersey, and the happy couple dancing in their bedroom slippers.

Trip stood looking over their shoulder, his face a little embarrassed. Then he grinned, “I don’t care, that was one hell of a party.”

“It was exceedingly satisfactory,” declared his wife.

“Chef ended up making a huge breakfast for us, bacon, eggs, grits, fruit, pancakes, and champagne. We partied all night long,” Trip remembered with a smile.

Alan laughed, “The video you sent home was hilarious, I wish we could have been there.”

“Yeah, that would have been nice, but it couldn’t be helped. At least we’ll be here for yours little brother.”

Trip looked at his brother fondly, “Just remember as you plan this shindig, things don’t always go the way you want them to.”

T’Pol spoke to Julia sitting at her side, “Indeed, but often they turn out better than you planned.”

Later, after Alan and Julia had gone home, the Tuckers were preparing for bed. Trip was sprawled out on their bed, while T’Pol was finishing in the bathroom.

Trip called out to her, “You know, it was fun reminiscing about our wedding tonight . . .”

His voice trailed off as T’Pol stepped around the corner. She was wearing her rose colored flannel nightgown. Looking at his wife with only her face and the tips of her fingers showing, Trip’s arousal flared.

Reaching for T’Pol he thought, “That has got to be the sexiest nightgown on the planet.”

The End



LOVED the slumber party wedding - just great.  Man can you write!


I am just getting into Trip & T'Pol (having watched all the episodes this past summer).  I loved the story.  Loved that they built a life together and had children.  Loved that T'Pol is open and warm, not so absolutely Vulcan - and that she is happy (obviously happy even from a distance).  And Trip, oh Trip - I read these with Connor Trinneer in my mind's eye.  I can see him in every word.  :p

I have to admit I started out in the smut section (loved that too), but am looking forward to more of your romantic stories.;)

Thank you.


I have to say something about the Flannel Nightgown, because that's a tradition on my sister's husband's family. Every new bride gets a flannel nightgown for their wedding night. Let's just say I'm glad my sister married into that family and not me. Flannel itches.:p But it makes sense Trip loves it, my sister's sister-in-law married a boy from Tennessee, he has no complaints.;)

Bluetiger, This was a marvelous tale; both witty and delightful. The fact that T'Pol loved her flannel nightgown gag-gift was just priceless! Rest assured, I will keep reading your "non-angsty, view of everyday life" stories as long as you keep writing them.
This was a thoroughly delightful story. Absolutely perfect for Valentine's Day. The wedding was great, and Grandma Theresa is a marvelous character. What a treat!:D ;)
Melted me down into a little heart-shaped puddle:p:p:p
Angst? What's angst? Ah! I remember! That way to make people unhappy also in their dreams! [b]Car rire est le propre de l'homme [/b]([i]Rabelais[/i]): [b]Laughing is the own of human race [/b](and I believe Vulcan logic is capable of recognizing the greatness of this assertion. A little bit of Human cheerfulness would be a big help for Vulcans, in many circumstances.);)
BlueTiger this exactly kind of story I was hoping to see for Valentine\'s day. This is a wonderful story that has a happy ending.:D I really like Trip\'s Grandma having that conversation with T\'Pol.And her decision to marry Trip.
Mary, thank you for the review. You hit on the very thing that worries me. I wonder sometimes if people care for my non-angsty, view of everyday life stories. I'll continue to hope there's an audience. Thank you all for your kind comments.
I know this series has very little angst but it does have an wonderful abundance of "feel good" sentiment. The characters are so well written and exude heart felt , warm , mushy............ feelings. Can't help but love them from top to bottom. Just an opinion, but the comments section imply that you asked, this story line is too good to stop now. You have to, please!!!!!!!, write more. The every day stuff is so welcoming to readers. Think of it as indulging spoilt children I mean fans. Ten thumbs up!!!!!
This is quite a brew of madcap comedy and sentiment. Love that wedding! :p
Don't worry about the spelling. Great story!!! :D
Hehehe, are you kidding me? For another story like this one, I'll take all the spelling errors you want. ;)
Ok, now I am totally embarrassed, I seem to have spelled everything wrong this go round. I'll try to do better next time, sorry!
Well, that was one great read! I loved the slumber-party wedding! How incredibly original. Meanwhile, shouldn\'t Trip be wearing a \"Gators\" t-shirt instead of a \"Gaters\" one? Just wondering... (Runs off to check on her own orange t-shirt)
Thank you for the correction justTripn. I will now go chase my beta reader with a stick. He is suppose to keep me from doing dumb stuff like that. I appreciate your help.
I made a little change. I'm hoping Trip thinks it's the "sexiest nightgown on the planet" and not "the sexist nightgown on the planet." ;)

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