A/N: BTW, Dennis, glad you're okay! Well, this is it … for real – real.

-----

Phlox met T'Pol and a nearly lifeless captain on the transporter pad. Immediately, the physician began giving orders to those gathered to assist him, including Ensign Cutler. Pointing to two orderlies who'd managed to carefully scoop Archer up, the doctor then turned to T'Pol who was still crouched on the platform, shaken.

"Are you injured?" he asked. His question was probably directed at the catatonic way she stared at the captain's body.

"No," she said, weakly.

Distracted, the man nodded and joined the orderlies who carried the captain away to Sickbay, as Trip left the transporter console to help her up.

"You all right?" Trip asked.

"Yes," she said. Her own clothes were stained with red blood and she noticed her robes were more dingy than expected.

He peered down at her with worry.

"I … I believed he wouldn't survive," she whispered.

"What happened?"

She recalled the story in the exacting detail that she always did, so much so that Trip used his hands to speed her along. At the middle of the tale, he raised both eyebrows and smiled.

"You managed to bring the creature down?" he asked. "With a cane?"

It was more of a staff and the comment about it was a footnote in her story, but she realized she had.

"Yes."

Before she could tell the rest, Trip curled his arm around his friend and brought her to his chest, tucking her head under his chin. Within a few seconds he released her.

"Well, ain't that somethin'."

Hobbling next to the engineer, she asked him to take her to Sickbay and he was too happy to do so. As they exited the room and passed down the hallway, they talked – something that they hadn't done for any length, other than by data stream, of time since she left for the planet.

"Ensign Sato was at her station and read our emergency message," T'Pol said. It wasn't really a question.

"Yes," he said. Producing a strange smile, he shook his head. "You know, that was pretty damned brilliant … although, maybe it wasn't so smart to leave everything else behind – like your communicator?"

"And medical kit." She quipped an eyebrow. "No. The hike was so brief, neither of us thought it would be necessary."

"What are the chances Hoshi'd see your message?"

The comment was meant more as admiration for blink luck, but T'Pol answered anyway.

"Extremely remote," she said.

Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he seemed to look her over from head to toe, making a general assessment of her.

"What?" she asked.

"You know, T'Pol, it seems like the planet agreed with you. A month ago …." He paused and then continued. "You just kinda seem like your old self."

"The experience … it was healing." There was more to say. Much more. The simple conversations she had with the captain, swimming in the ocean, daily hikes …. The answer was too profound and lengthy to cover in a single elevator ride. Ironically, she ventured saving the captain's life gave her a newfound confidence, as if she was now able to be the first officer.

He gave a nod.

When the lift stopped at the level for the medical facility, the engineer curled his arm around her and took her there. Phlox had already hooked the captain to an IV, giving him blood. Unlike on the planet where he was on the brink of death, his face held a ruddy color and his breathing seemed less shallow.

He's going to live.

Quite illogically, she recognized he'd survive as soon as they made it aboard Enterprise. Trip must've drawn the same conclusion because he smiled.

"Good news, Doc?" Trip asked.

Cutler placed a pair of gloves on the physician as he answered.

Phlox said, "I think once we make some repairs to his intestines, he should be just fine. In fact, he should be able to return to duty in two days."

Trip nodded. "Lemme know when he wakes up."

As his grip around T'Pol's shoulder increased, noting he would help her elsewhere, she asked a question without thinking.

"May I stay here?" she asked.

Phlox shrugged. "There's nothing really--"

T'Pol reasserted. "I would like to stay."

He said, "Very well."

With that, the doctor pointed to a chair across the room and Tucker assisted her to there. Finally, Cutler spread a curtain out to confine the patient and hide the procedure from T'Pol's view.

Settling into her chair, the Vulcan let out a small sigh.

Tucker decided to slip into the chair next to her. "Need anything?"

"No."

"You sure?"

His blue eyes entreated hers and she wound a hand around his.

"No. Thank you, Trip."

"Maybe tonight we can catch up on everything that happened. When I last talked to the cap'n, he said you got some pictures of some of the flora and fauna."

"I cataloged them for study."

"I understand you got in a few," he said, smiling.

Taking her hand swiftly back, she crossed her arms. "The captain was insistent."

He laughed. "You rather go down and collect everything, or would you rather we send one of the last groups to come back from vacation to gather everything?"

"I want to return."

"Thought you might. All righty. We'll collect the scanner and cane and put it in your quarters."

"Thank you."

"You bet." He patted her leg and then left.

Her hands folded neatly in her lap and she stared at the drape.

----

It took five hours, but Cutler finally drew the curtain back. Phlox emerged from it dressed in his gown and immediately began to take it off.

"Doctor?" T'Pol asked. The urgency in her voice made it tremble.

Wadding the used clothing and placing it into a biodisposal unit, he walked over to the sink and hurled a smile over his shoulder.

"Everything went smoothly," he said.

Bowing her head, she let out a long breath.

He crossed the room to her. "He probably won't wake for another five hours or so. I suggest you go ahead and get some rest. I can call you--"

"I'd prefer to stay here," she said.

"There's nothing you can do for him," Phlox said.

She nodded. "I understand."

"You don't want to shower?" he asked, pointing to her soiled robes.

She looked down at her garments – a shower was definitely in order. And yet, for the first time in her life she thought being grubby was preferable.

Preferable to leaving the captain's side.

It wasn't to repay him for the countless hours spent waiting for her after she'd returned from Salanacon. The reason she wanted to remain wasn't simply because she was his first officer. If she were truthful with herself, it wasn't merely because she was his friend.

The two had become much closer than she would've liked to admit … closer still even than their already tight working relationship and friendship. Archer knew things intimate information about her – her family, insecurities – and she knew some about him.

There was something else – quite unidentifiable. It bore consideration and reflection, but not now.

"I'd prefer to stay here," she said.

"Then, can someone bring you a change of clothes? You can do so here, if you'd like."

"That would be considerate. Thank you, Doctor."

Cutler gave her a sweet smile and then helped the Vulcan get situated a little nearer to Archer's bed. The woman then volunteered to retrieve some clothes for T'Pol and walked out of the facility. Dr. Phlox continued with his duties, crossing over to the other side and out of view.

The Vulcan pulled herself up from her chair and looked at his face remembering what it was like to stroke his cheek and touch his hair. She wasn't sure what bade that curiosity then, or why she felt the need to do so again. Giving into the emotion – whatever it was – she brought her fingers to his forehead and pushed back some of his hair. Before she could do more, she pushed herself back down in the chair beside him to wait.

----

Archer opened his eyes slowly and with confusion. The light was more fluorescent here in this part of the rainforest. When things came into focus, he could see the lights shining brightly overhead in Sickbay.

Sickbay?

Groggily, he remembered everything including reeling off a few words as if they'd be his last. He'd had close calls before, but the one he faced was a lot nearer than all the others; he recalled knowing on death's door and about to have someone open it.

Shifting slightly, he winced at the pain in his side and suddenly felt two people close in on him.

"Captain!" Phlox said, merrily.

"Captain?" T'Pol asked.

"Hey," he croaked out.

"How are you feeling?" Phlox asked.

"I've felt better."

"You were very lucky. You almost didn't make it back," Phlox said.

Archer remembered T'Pol springing into action and bringing down a beast he couldn't fell. The woman even now had her hands clenched to the side of his biobed, leaning against it to keep her from falling.

"She managed to send a message to Enterprise through via data stream," Phlox said. The doctor explained the exciting way the information came up and how Hoshi notified him in a panic to stand at the transporter for the emergency. "It was the most exciting thing to happen this month."

The captain wasn't sure if that was bad or good, but furrowed his brow. "I'm fortunate to have resourceful crewmen." Then a smile worked its way over his mouth. "Thanks."

"Of course," she said. Phlox provided an overdeveloped grin.

"When can I leave?" he asked.

"Tomorrow."

Just as Phlox had delivered the statement, Travis entered wearing large blisters over his body and scratching them. Phlox sprang into action, determining it was an insect that had bitten the helmsman while on the planet and then gave him a few injections to ease the swelling, rash and itching.

T'Pol stayed at the captain's side, hovering over him. And Archer used the commotion to talk with her.

"Sorry I cut your stay a little short," he said.

"I am thankful you'll recover," she said.

"You took a big risk back there."

"You would've done so for me."

That was definitely true, but beside the point. "You could've gotten hurt."

"And yet, I did not. At any rate, I believe I proved something to myself."

"What's that?"

"I'm ready to return to duty."

Archer's eyebrows climbed against his head. "What does Phlox think?"

She straightened. "He concurs. Your approval is the only one I need."

"When would you return? Right now?" he asked.

"I thought perhaps in a few days. I wanted to collect my things before I accepted the duties of first officer again."

"You didn't already?" he asked.

"We retrieved my staff and scanner; however, I wanted … I wanted to ensure you were okay before going back down to the planet."

A lopsided smile struck his face. "Listen," he said more quietly, "about the things I said--"

"Captain, your friendship means more to me than you will ever know as well," she replied.

He nodded. That wasn't the intention he'd given to the statement. Although he didn't profess his undying love, he'd hinted at it. Strongly hinted. The man averted his eyes wondering if he'd ever be able to utter words of love to her. If he couldn't with his dying breath let the words spill from his lips, odds were good he'd never be able to.

She said, "I was also hoping you would return to the planet with me. Your belongings are still there as well."

"It'd be nice. Doesn't seem right to leave without thanking our guide, El'ani."

"Agreed," she said. "Would you like to leave tomorrow?"

"Sure."

The Sickbay doors opened and closed as Travis took his allergy-ridden body back to work, and Phlox waddled back over.

The physician said, "The captain needs a little rest, or he won't be able to."

"Of course," T'Pol said. The women reached her hand around his and gave it a light squeeze and then used her staff to leave.

"She's been here for more than ten hours. I thought she could use a rest," Phlox said. Curling his lips up, he pointed to him. "Not that you couldn't use some sleep as well."

"Ten hours?" he asked.

"She refused to leave your side."

"She didn't have to," he said.

Phlox said, "It appears everything between you on the planet was resolved."

"Yeah."

Before more could be uttered, Trip lollygagged into the facility and threw a large grin at his friend. "Cap'n!"

Archer smiled. "Hey."

The doctor wagged his finger. "Commander Tucker, try to keep your conversation short. He needs his rest."

Tucker nodded and leaned on the biobed, casually.

"Everything on Enterprise--?" Archer asked.

"Yeah, everything's a-okay. 'Cept for Travis breaking out in hives."

He smiled. "He was just here."

"Ran into T'Pol in the hallway. She said you were up and that I might be able to sneak in here."

Archer laughed. "Glad you did."

"You look a hell of a lot better than when you entered here. Doc said you'd be ready to return to duty in a few days."

"I'm sure you're ready to give up command. A month's a long time to look after Enterprise." He paused. "Thanks, Trip."

"My pleasure. Sometimes being captain has its privileges. Catfish every Friday and Key lime pie every Sunday."

"Chef's not mad, is he?"

"I made a deal that he could have my mamma's recipe. Seemed to cheer him right up." He paused and then leaned in. "T'Pol looks great."

"Yeah, she does."

Trip smiled and then patted his friend on the shoulder. "I've enjoyed being captain, but it'll be nice to have ya back."

Archer returned the grin and watched the Southerner whistle out the door. All in all, he reflected as he closed his eyes, everything was almost back to normal.

----

T'Pol waited at the transporter with her ivory staff in hand as Archer slowly strolled into the location. If she didn't know the man, she wouldn't have been able to tell he'd been injured. But knowing him as she did, she knew he wasn't quite marching at his typical gait; the man had a long stride, so much so it was difficult sometimes to keep up sometimes when they talked in the hallways.

"Are you well enough?" she asked.

"Doc said to take it easy, but I think so," he said, climbing onto the platform. "We're kinda like the walking wounded."

The remark met with a single eyebrow that flickered. Archer extended a hand, helping T'Pol onto a disc and then nodded at the ensign working the controls.

"Energize."

The two flickered onto a meadow under an enormous blue sky with a single radiant sun shining above. Just as they'd begun their trip, the raven-haired woman who'd been their guide met them there.

"I am pleased to see you are well, Jonathan. I heard about the garon attack. They are unpredictable."

He smiled. "Thanks for your concern. I'm doing just fine."

"I understood from your message the two of you are leaving today, T'Pol?" El'ani asked.

"Yes." She bowed slightly. "We appreciate your hospitality."

"I am only too happy to serve you." Pointing to the house the two stayed in for a short period of time, the native woman smiled. "Guta alon she-ya. Guta alon may-ya. It is a saying: When a guest leaves a house, the house becomes lonely. Your house has been sad since your departure."

Archer gave a lopsided smile and everyone headed in the direction, across the clearing and toward a band of swaying trees. When they entered, T'Pol was almost overcome with emotion. It wasn't the house who felt sad, it was her.

El'ani excused herself traipse around the house and to the back porch as T'Pol turned to her captain. The two entered silently and looked around the room. Only a day had passed and yet everything about the place seemed different … not the location of the furniture or the smells, but the feeling.

I'm personifying, she thought.

"I suppose this is it," he said.

"Yes," she whispered.

"I better go get my stuff together."

"I've never been up the stairs," she said.

"Want to come?" he asked.

"Yes."

They both leisurely moved up the stairs, Archer clinging to the rail as he hauled himself up the stairs. When they got to the top, T'Pol's eyes scanned the room. He was neater than she would've hypothesized from the way he left his towels in the living room. As he entered and made a beeline to start putting his things away, her fingers caressed a book he'd had out. It was one he'd finished on the beach while they were together; one he'd spent a great deal of time describing in splendid detail: A Passage to India.

Across the room she noted a balcony that overlooked the ocean. Making her way to the mosaic tile there, with her cane in her hand, she looked out into the sea and thought about her captain dashing into waves and breaking through them like the little sea creature they'd spotted a few days ago.

Those memories, the ones of the beach and hiking, seemed so much more real than the two days she'd spent in a cave. The days with Ral and the people from Salanacon seemed distant and vague like a dream, one that she didn't want to reflect on anymore or remember.

"It's a nice view," he said.

She agreed. "It is."

Without realizing she'd formed the words outloud, she spoke.

"I wonder if I will ever be able to completely forget," she said.

"Forget your time with--?"

"Yes, forget my time with Ral," she whispered.

It was the first time she didn't cringe when his name was spoken. Archer stepped onto the balcony with her, staying near the bedroom and folded his arms across his chest.

"I don't know," he said.

"Although it no longer haunts me, it is …."

He ducked his head, waiting for her to say more.

"Vulcans don't merely suppress unpleasant memories or feelings, we obliterate them."

"I think humans wish they could."

"How do you keep from remembering terrible events?" she asked.

With a frown, he answered her honestly. "You don't. You recall things at inconvenient times."

She waited for an example, so he supplied one. He said, "I sometimes think about my father dying."

"Do you think about him often?"

"No. And it's a bittersweet memory – I remember trips we took together usually in the same instant I think about the day he passed away." He said gently, "I doubt there's much on Salanacon you felt was particularly sweet."

"No."

"Your memories, T'Pol, will always be there. Sometimes it'll fill you with sorrow. Sometimes it'll make you angry. But … you have people who care about you. As a human, sometimes talking about feelings helps. Maybe it'll help you."

"Do you talk about your father?" she asked. Stories about Henry Archer were rare, even though she supposed that much of who Archer had become happened the day or because of his father's demise.

He sighed. "No."

"Perhaps the most painful ones every human keeps hidden?"

"Depends on the human."

"Trip discusses his feelings regularly," she said.

"Yes, he does."

"Why don't you?" she asked.

The question left him quiet. Seriously, he looked into the distance and shrugged as if pondering the question. Taking a deep breath, he looked back at her.

"I guess it's just the way I am."

"Perhaps you can take your own advice?"

He gave a bemused chuckle. "Perhaps. Mom and I have talked about it some."

"I don't have family members."

"Of course you do. Enterprise."

Her eyebrow flickered and the two retreated from each other's company to gather their things and go home.

----

Before they left the planet, T'Pol took one more look out the back porch and El'ani used it as her opportunity to speak with Archer. He had a bag hefted over his shoulder and was waiting in the living room.

"Tomoreh has listened to you," El'ani said.

Although he found the deities these people worshipped charming, he'd put no more stock in them than he would a rabbit's foot or a horseshoe. To be polite, and because he liked her, he smiled.

"Thank you."

"Your friend is much better," she said.

"She is."

"You have dreams as well; things yet acted on."

With a sigh, he let the bag fall from his shoulder. "El'ani, my people don't really believe in superstition--"

"You may not believe, but you don't have to. Tomoreh has dreamed you into existence."

Giving a warm smile, he bowed his head figuring he couldn't really argue with her. "I've enjoyed my time here. I appreciate everything you've done."

"I have something for Jonathan."

"You don't have to do that."

"It is nothing material. I have counsel for you."

"Oh?"

"T'Pol will come to your homeworld. Invite her in."

He furrowed his brow at the cryptic message.

"The journey will be difficult, but in the end you will be pleased," she said.

Archer was about to inquire more when T'Pol walked through the doors and entered the kitchen where they were waiting for her. El'ani shook her head, as if there was no more to say, and led the two out of the house.

"This is it," Archer said, leaning toward T'Pol.

"It is indeed," the Vulcan said.

The two walked out carrying the bags and Archer managed to snag hers away from her on their way out. Heading back to the place they transported in, both waited until they became a beam of light.

----

When the Vulcan entered the bridge for the first time in more than one month, still leaning on the white cane, the humans yelled loudly enough to almost startle her almost back into the turbolift.

"Surprise!" they said. The first face she saw was Travis' mischievous grin.

When her pulse returned to normal, she noted Reed, Hoshi, Trip and Archer all grinned equally broadly.

"Good to have you back, T'Pol," Archer said.

Trip ceremoniously carried the knife for the cake over to her as if it were a samurai sword.

"Cut the cake," he said.

With only mild surprise, she looked to Hoshi. "Mekek?"

The communications officer giggled. "It was the closest thing I could find. Chef made it specially for you."

Taking the knife she looked among her comrades and cleared her throat. "This is an honor."

Grabbing a plate, Trip urged her to cut the first piece and then with slight confusion, she did. Dishes continued to be handed to her until someone finally announced the last piece was for her. Silently, she commented the tradition of serving the guest of honor last was a peculiar one.

With a mouthful of the substance, Trip pointed at the meal with his fork. "Not quite pecan pie, but it ain't half bad." A slight sneer wormed onto his mouth. "Although, might help if there was sugar in it."

T'Pol was quick to reply. "Humans eat over two cups of sugar daily. The Vulcans dietary needs are more focused on nutrition."

Everyone chuckled as Trip screwed up his face. "You sayin' that Vulcans don't eat sugar at all?"

"That's correct."

"No wonder ya'll are so dour."

"And it's not hard to determine why you have more thirteen cavities according to Dr. Phlox's reports," she said.

Trip frowned and Archer decided to intercede holding his hands in front of him to call off whatever rebuttal the engineer had worked up.

"It was Commander Tucker's idea to have something to welcome you back," he said to her.

Suddenly, she softened and the blonde hung his head as if embarrassed his CO called out that he actually cared in front of all his buddies. Archer shook his head in response, a little mystified at why the two acted like children when together … even T'Pol.

Reed ribbed his pal in the ribs. "He was worried sick about you." Then looking at his friends, with a gaze lingering on the captain, he corrected himself. "We all were."

Phlox joined the party, a little hurt there wasn't enough cake left until Trip announced it was "like eating spongy cardboard."

Holding onto his gut, the Denobulan produced an overeager smile. "Perhaps it's just as well. I … frankly I'm here to congratulate T'Pol, not partake in mekek."

The Vulcan after nibbling on a bit of her cake, set it down and then a little glassy eyed told the Bridge they had touched her. She gave credit to all of them – for Reed, Trip, Phlox and Archer for saving her life. She thanked, with deepest and warmest regards, Hoshi for managing to watch meaningless communications to and from the planet. She also thanked Travis for visiting her often with ailments that averted Phlox's attention from time to time. It was a joke that made everyone, including the helmsman laugh. And then clearing her throat once more, she said the most emotional words she'd voiced to all of them.

"You are my family," she said. There was much more detail she could entail, but it would be pointless to do so.

After gathering for another thirty minutes or so, everyone personally welcomed her back and then rejoined their station. Sliding into her seat, she glanced over her equipment and touched each piece with pride; it had been so long. Glancing at each member, she eventually turned her attention to her controls and became lost in daily duties.

When the hours had passed and everyone had long completed his or her shift as well as dinner, she stopped by her commander's quarters. It was late, the hour he may've stopped by her cabin many years ago. Ringing the bell, she watched a man clad in a shirt and sweatpants come to the door.

"Do you mind if I come in?"

"Of course not," he said.

On entry, she waited for the door to slide back before continuing.

"I haven't … I haven't properly thanked you," she said.

"I think saving my life is enough," he smiled. When he could tell she was serious, his voice turned gentler. "T'Pol, it really isn't necessary."

"Captain, having a month to think has …. I've come to understand your meaning of family. Vulcans see it as bondmates and children. To humans it includes close friends."

"Sometimes friends are closer than family members."

She nodded, and yet even months ago she wouldn't have understood – not to the same degree.

The Vulcan spoke, "I was given a symbol of my house when I was a child." She showed him a triangular pin. "It's an IDIC; infinite diversity in infinite combinations. The colors and words at the bottom mark this as my family's emblem. My father, at the completion of my first suppression rituals, gave it to me. I'd like you to have it."

"I can't accept this," he said, tenderly.

Leaning over carefully, she took his hand and held it – showing his palm – placing the tiny metal object there. His breath was on her neck as she deposited the item, causing her to look into his gaze. To signify the importance of the moment, she held his hand a second more.

"To my knowledge, you are the first human to receive such an emblem," she said, letting her fingers fall away from his.

"I don't know what to say." He felt the pin as his face filled with creases. "Thank you."

"I feel as if …. We have known each other for some time, and yet I feel closer to you. Vulcans typically share what we have only with family members."

Affectionately, he whispered, "I'll wear this with pride."

She nodded and was about to head toward the door when he tugged gently on her arm.

"I meant what I said about discussing your feelings."

"To share them with others?"

"Yes."

"You said so yourself it depends on the person."

His eyes turned a little dark and he gazed into her eyes. "You asked me about my father a few times. There's something I've never told you." As if to himself he repeated the words. "I've never told anyone really."

She was silent.

"He died when I was 14 … in my arms, while I was with him."

T'Pol stayed quiet.

Archer looked at his feet. "My mother was by his side nearly every minute of every hour, but had left to get a few minutes or hours of sleep and it was my responsibility to be with him. He died while I was there."

"You feel you let him die?"

His head bowed. "I did."

She closed in on him a little.

"I may've been angry at the Vulcans for not allowing him to see something he believed in come to fruition, but …. I was madder at myself. I let him go. I gave him permission."

He gave a brief description of the moment.

"You," his father said, barely above a whisper, pointing to Jon. The man hadn't remembered his name for months.

Jon didn't care; he rushed to his father's side.

"I'm tired," the older man said.

For a second, Jon looked toward his mother's bedroom, but decided she needed her sleep and leaned toward his father.

"What can I do? Do you need something?"

"Yes, I need to go," he whispered.

"Need to go where?" he asked with confusion. "You can't, Dad. You haven't been able to leave for some time.'

"I need to go."

He explained more forcefully. "You can't--"

"Let me go," the man begged.

And Jon realized his father didn't want to venture to the store, he wanted to be released.

Excuses, too many to name, fled to his mind – most of them selfish. He wanted his father to hear about whether he made high school football or if he'd been accepted into the science magnet school. He'd thought about fliers, which had yet taken flight and a first date he was still waiting to experience. His father couldn't die before all those things happened. It wasn't right.

"Let me go."

"I'll go get Mom," he said.

An arm, one that had been too weak to lift itself for weeks grabbed at the boy's sleeve.

"Jon, let me go."

The boy weakened at hearing his name.

And then other recollections set in – a year of watching the man who would light up any room deteriorate into someone who wasn't even a ghost of his former self. The thought of his mother crippled into inaction, giving up her entire life to nurse this man, made his heart sink; it's something his father certainly never wanted. And Starfleet, losing their most knowledgeable engineer, allowed the project to backslide and disintegrate.

But, it was more than that. The man in front of him had suffered enough. Unable to eat for himself, take breath or remember anything real, he moaned for long periods of time these days as if the pain was unbearable. The glimmer in his eyes had vanished weeks ago, and this shell deserved to be given peace.

"Please."

A frown crossed Jon's face as he closed his eyes and gave a single nod. A single gasp was all he heard and then the young man crushed his father to his chest, crying, as Henry Archer perished.

As soon as his father took his final breath, Jon felt guilt at having done so while his mother was away and wondered whether it was weakness to let him pass.

Information about him came to light – why he chose to devote his life to his father's dream and his misplaced anger toward the Vulcans. He picked an odd time to tell her about his father, and yet she knew exactly why he had. The information strengthened the bond, made their relationship more equal – matching the secrets she'd divulged to him. And it let her know she wasn't the only one who had a troubled past, with feelings that nipped and gnawed as if demanding attention.

Looking at him, she noticed a frown, but his eyes were free of tears as if whatever pain was there, tears had been shed so frequently and for so long that there was nothing left.

"You didn't have to confide in me," she said.

"I know." His lips twitched. "I wanted to."

"What do you do with this memory?" she asked.

He blinked slowly as if there was much more to that single event than could ever be understood or explained. "I continue."

As she wrestled with the deep emotions of the moment, he moved in on her and spoke. "You will, too."

A single hand grasped her shoulder and caressed it slightly before it fell to his side.

There was a moment between them – hot with electricity and unspoken words. And as soon as she let it register, it disappeared into the heaviness of the room.

"I should probably get to bed," he said.

"As should I," she said.

The two looked at each other and he gave a soft smile. "It was nice seeing you on the Bridge today."

"It was pleasant being there."

She nodded and was about to turn when she heard him say something to her back. "See you tomorrow."

Straightening, she used to her crane to hobble to her room and decided to light a candle and ponder her future. One that she had with family – those friends aboard Enterprise. Before drifting off into meditation, she thought about disclosing more with her friends and promised herself she would. At least she would try.

The end.

A/N: Thanks one more time to Telaka for creating such an imaginative and inspiring tale. Thanks to Goshabyn whose tale of The Ambassador has been interesting! And thanks to you for putting up with 16 chapters of my thoughts. :-)