Spontaneous Conversation thread

[CoffeeCat]

I'm not really with you on the Seven thing, but otherwise it's pretty interesting.

Reason?

[justTripn]

Working backwards I LOVE the Voyager crossover and your descriptions of Janeway!

CX! Just keep writing that Home story EXACTLY like you're doing. I don't care if it's sad. (see my avatar) Your wording and direction is perfect!

Rigil, I'm not qualified to comment. Somehow I'm not remembering this scene (it's an scene addition right?) But Archer is running off to sacrifice himself, right? They all should be focused on that, IMO, not the smaller stuff.

B 'n B you're a poet, and it's kind of excruciatingly painfully realistic. But can't you send Trip to the ocean and make me feel like I'm THERE?!!! LOL! No, I know, this is good . . .

[CX]

I was always under the impression that she never wanted to use that name again because of the memories associated with it. I was pretty sure they addressed that on screen.

[CoffeeCat]

^I'm not the Seven expert - she is certainly *not* my favorite Voyager character. Actually she always annoyed me.
But....
I remember from Day of Honor she told Janeway that she had been "Seven of Nine" for as long as she could remember. She compromised with the Captain who shortened her name to "Seven". I don't know if it ever triggered bad memories from her pre-Borg life. I didn't even realise she had any *bad* memories from her pre-Borg life. Her keeping the name "Seven" was because she was just separated from the collective and she wasn't exactly ready to start acting human again. Over the next four seasons, Seven made progress in the direction of being more human. I guess I always figured that the next step would be to resume using her human name.

But that's just my opinion and maybe there was an episode that suggested otherwise. So, like everything else, it's open for debate.

KTR - I'll fix the spelling before it goes to beta.

[CX]

Pretty much right after she remembers her name, she has flashbacks of her family's assimilation.

[CoffeeCat]

^The Raven. I'll see if I can dig it up and have a look. Thanx.

[Bookworm]

I have been writing my first fic. This is from the beginning of the fic minus epilogue. I need a scared smiley.

T'Pol was slowly waking up. She wondered why she was waking before the alarm. She clearly remembered setting the alarm even though she wouldn’t be on duty this morning. Optimal sleep requirements for last night would have been four point three five hours, she mused. So what is the reason for this interruption in my sleep cycle? She felt sluggish despite her conscious state, and her muscles ached. There seems to be something wrong with my body, she thought.

Since she was starting to feel awake, she decided the logical action would be to rise and find out what was wrong. She opened her eyes. There was enough light for her to see the ceiling, and at that point, she was sure that she wasn't where she was supposed to be. Instantly on alert, she swung both legs out of bed, standing up quickly, and had to reach for the wall to stay on her feet. For a short moment she couldn't see clearly, and there were spots dancing before her eyes. I'm clearly ill this morning. She held precariously to the wall with both hands, attempting to recover her equilibrium.

“Computer, lights!” She ordered after the dizziness had passed. She noticed several things: There is also something wrong with my hearing ability. Every sound seemed muffled and indistinct. Even my own voice sounds strange. She looked around, noticing the photographs on the walls.

I'm in Trip's quarters and he doesn't seem to be here. And what’s that on my peripheral vision? It took only one look down her body and she froze in mid-movement. After the first glance towards the familiar muscled male body, clad in worn T-shirt and blue underwear, she lifted her gaze upwards, deliberately avoiding another look as she tried to remain focused on her analysis of the situation.

This isn't my body. This is . . . . It . . . my body looks like Trip’s, and I am in his quarters. Her train of thought was abruptly interrupted when her fingers came in contact with a coarsely stubbled chin as she pondered the mystery. She jerked her hand away from her face and closed her eyes. I was not in these quarters when I fell asleep. Trip was in these quarters. So this must be Trip's body. The supreme illogic of this most logical conclusion threatened her sanity. But why am I here? Her eyes opened wide in realization.

[justTripn]

[CoffeeCat]

^ooooo! Body Swap! Yes! Please continue

[CoffeeCat]

I think I need a scared smiley too. I want to post that one I started where Tucker slugs Archer in the face, but I've never actually wrote an Enterprise fic before I started this... I've spent the last four months observing the characters and getting a low opinion of Archer instead.

Oh, what the hell - here it is, un-beta-ed and raw - just please be nice.

::CoffeeCat scurries under the Science console - feeling like she just dropped a bomb::

Captain Archer glanced from Commander to Commander, trying to assess their mood before he began speaking.

T'Pol seemed relaxed enough. Over the few years that he knew T'Pol he learned to pick up the subtleties in her expression and body language.

Trip, on the other hand, was an open book. Not that the man didn't have a poker face when he wanted to; when he didn't think it was necessary to hide his emotions, he simply didn't. The only thing he really guarded was his ethical code and his sex life. Archer wasn't very thrilled that this meeting was about the latter. Or he hoped for Trip's sake, lack thereof.

He paced the ready room, bemused at the fidgety behaviour Trip was manifesting from his chair. Archer often relished when he had the upper hand. He paced a few more calculated seconds before he stopped to face his officers.

"It seems that Admiral Gardner has made a few requests of me while you were on bereavement leave. He informed me that there are rumors all over the planet that my Science Officer and Chief Engineer are..." He searched for the correct term, keeping in mind that T'Pol was present and the use of slang in front of her would only aggravate Trip even more. "...romantically involved," he finally said.

Trip straightened a little and T'Pol's expression managed to turn from serene to a blatant glare without moving a muscle. How the heck did she do that?

Archer looked at Trip, "Well?"

"You can't be serious, Cap'n."

"T'Pol?"

"Captain, there have been rumors since we began neuro pressure in the expanse. Are you suggesting they have a basis in fact?"

"Cap'n," Trip blurted, "Why should the admiral care about a bunch of rumors? Why can't people just mind their own business..."

"Because they can't. That's why the Admiral cares so much. We have every alien on the planet cowering in their embassies, tabloid reporters are selling their right arms get on Enterprise, not to mention the possibility that there could be more Terra Prime operatives on board. It has been suggested that the rumors are what caused your DNA to be stolen in the first place."

"Beggin' yer pardon, sir, but suggested by who?"

"Does it matter Trip? It makes sense. Terra Prime could have just as easily stolen my own DNA and benefited more from it."

"Logical," T'Pol commented.

Archer visibly forced himself to calm down. "Trip. Just tell me you've been a perfect gentleman and I'll believe you."

Trip opened his mouth to retort, but T'Pol cut him off. "He has, Captain."

Archer's face snapped over to T'Pol. She looked her Captain in the eye, "I have not been a 'perfect lady'."

"T'Pol..." Trip couldn't believe she even said that much.

Archer held up a hand, the gesture informing Trip that he best shut up. "Go on."

"Commander Tucker and I..." T'Pol's voice softened, "we bonded." She stared at the floor and waited for either man to say something. Anything.

It was Archer who finally spoke, after he got up to pace again. "I see."

It was worse than he thought. From Surak's katra he learned that he had best not interfere with a Vulcan (dare he think it) mating bond. If they were just knocking boots it would have been easier to enforce not frat regulations, but this... They just made commanding a starship about twenty times more difficult for him. And it pissed him off.

Archer's mouth turned into a thin line and Trip braced himself on the edge of his seat; Jon was about to explode.

"When?" Archer snapped.

T'Pol struggled to find her voice, "We were unaware of the bond until Trip transferred to Columbia."

Archer stopped pacing in front of the door, bodily blocking Trip from his desired goal. "What do you mean 'unaware'?"

"We didn't know the bond formed until we were apart from each other."

"Cap'n," Trip finally spoke, "Is this really necessary? She told you the truth. Hasn't she been through enough?"

"Trip. I'm more interested in what the hell you two were thinking in the first place. If you were unaware of it being formed, it was an accident." Archer glared back at T'Pol. "Perfect gentleman my ass."

That was it. It might have been the tone Jon used or the words. He had put up with his blatant disregard for the feelings, ethics, and opinions of the whole damn crew long enough. Before Archer had time to process what was happening, Trip was on his feet, fists balled at his sides, face contorted with a strained effort to keep his massive nostrils from flaring. "Permission to speak freely."

"Denied. Just answer the question, Commander: What the hell were you thinking?"

"None _ of _ your _ damn _ business, _ Captain." Trip enunciated each word with a vain hope of getting his point across.

T'Pol stood, getting ready to step between the two men. "Captain, I see no logic in bringing up events that happened over a year ago. I suggest we..."

"Save it, T'Pol." Archer kept his stare in Trip's face. "You're both dismissed."

T'Pol slowly walked towards the door, trying to shield herself from the rage emanating from Trip. She couldn't. It had been building up far too long. Before she could get her bondmate's attention away from their Captain it was too late. Trip's fist impacted with the Captain's jaw, causing him to reel backwards into the side of his desk with a painful sounding thud.

Instantly, the Captain was back on his feet ready to retaliate. He stopped short when he realized that Trip appeared to be in a state of shock at what he had just done; his confused eyes remained fixed on his trembling hands.

Archer wiped the blood from his lip and slapped the comm button. "Archer to Lieutenant Reed."

"Reed here, sir."

"Get in here and escort Commander Tucker to the brig."


***


"If you don't mind my asking, Trip, what the bloody hell did you do?"

Trip was still trembling from his encounter with the Captain. He tried sitting on the bench but couldn't seem to get his body to stay put even for a few seconds. "I slugged him. He couldn't keep his nose out of my business. Take a hint, Malcolm."

"You're joking."

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"Why would the Captain be prying into your personal life all of a sudden?"

Trip looked directly at the Brit. "Because he's a controlling son of a bitch."

Malcolm wasn't sure how to respond to that. Trip and Captain Archer were close when they first arrived on Enterprise, but over time they drifted. He wasn't sure when it started; perhaps as early as the Xyrillian incident, but even then it was hard to tell.

He remembered that Trip was made the laughing stock of the ship and the Captain did very little to prevent it. The Captain probably laughed at him along with the rest of the crew. But then again, thought Malcolm, I could barely keep a straight face when the Captain made the decision to let Klingons (and the entire bloody ship) in on his little secret. Malcolm wondered how a silent order to humiliate one's self could pass between the two with a single look. He found the implications of that line of reasoning to be somewhat disturbing.

Xyrillians aside, there were more pressing issues he seemed to be dealing with at the moment.

"Trip, you need to calm down," Malcolm finally said.

Trip bit his lower lip but couldn't seem to stop fidgeting, "Malcolm, what do you know about Vulcan mating practices?"

Malcolm was confused by the question but answered anyway, "They mate every seven years..."

"Not necessarily true, but what else?"

"Nothing."

"Exactly. Because Vulcans don't talk about it."

"And... this is what he was hassling you about?"

"I only know what you know. T'Pol won't even talk to me about it. But he was in there pressing us for all the juicy details."

"Details... like?"

"He demanded to know what we were thinking when we first..."

"Why does he need that information?"

"Who the hell knows."

"And that's why you hauled off and hit him."

"Wouldn't you?"

"I'm not sure. Perhaps."

"He was trying to reprimand us for... bonding."

"Bonding?"

"It's this thing that happens to Vulcan couples. We're in each other's heads."

"Sounds... dreadful."

"I thought so at first," Trip took a deep breath, "but now I don't think I could live without her being there."

"Well, I'm not sure I understand, but I'll try."

"Do you know what the worst part is?"

"Not sure I follow."

"This doesn't even come close to some of the other times he..." Trip trailed off knowing that if he continued he'd probably have a breakdown.

"Perhaps you should talk about this with T'Pol."

"Right, Malcolm, good luck getting the Captain to let me see her after this. He was about to tell us to break it off before I nailed him."

"How do you know? That doesn't sound like Captain Archer."

"He thinks we're a diplomatic risk."

"That sounds like Captain Archer."

If anyone understood, it was Malcolm Reed. They both knew the Captain was all about diplomatic relationships. His ship, his crew, and his friends were all secondary to his need to forge new alliances and make bold impressive speeches. For his daddy. Archer was every bit as radical as the Terra Prime operatives when it came to making interstellar friends. Trip dared not wonder if it made the man just as dangerous. The thought hurt too much.

"Malcolm. Don't worry about dragging T'Pol down here; I'll talk to her. In my head."

The notion of Trip contacting anyone in his head seemed silly to Malcolm. But then again, Trip was a silly man. "Very well then. How do you plan on getting out of this mess?"

"I don't."

[CX]

Well I'm defiantely looking forward to reading more.

[blacknblue]

I think I need a scared smiley too. I want to post that one I started where Tucker slugs Archer in the face, but I've never actually wrote an Enterprise fic before I started this... I've spent the last four months observing the characters and getting a low opinion of Archer instead.

Oh, what the hell - here it is, un-beta-ed and raw - just please be nice.

::CoffeeCat scurries under the Science console - feeling like she just dropped a bomb::

Captain Archer glanced from Commander to Commander, trying to assess their mood before he began speaking.

T'Pol seemed relaxed enough. Over the few years that he knew T'Pol he learned to pick up the subtleties in her expression and body language.

Trip, on the other hand, was an open book. Not that the man didn't have a poker face when he wanted to; when he didn't think it was necessary to hide his emotions, he simply didn't. The only thing he really guarded was his ethical code and his sex life. Archer wasn't very thrilled that this meeting was about the latter. Or he hoped for Trip's sake, lack thereof.

He paced the ready room, bemused at the fidgety behaviour Trip was manifesting from his chair. Archer often relished when he had the upper hand. He paced a few more calculated seconds before he stopped to face his officers.

"It seems that Admiral Gardner has made a few requests of me while you were on bereavement leave. He informed me that there are rumors all over the planet that my Science Officer and Chief Engineer are..." He searched for the correct term, keeping in mind that T'Pol was present and the use of slang in front of her would only aggravate Trip even more. "...romantically involved," he finally said.

Trip straightened a little and T'Pol's expression managed to turn from serene to a blatant glare without moving a muscle. How the heck did she do that?

Archer looked at Trip, "Well?"

"You can't be serious, Cap'n."

"T'Pol?"

"Captain, there have been rumors since we began neuro pressure in the expanse. Are you suggesting they have a basis in fact?"

"Cap'n," Trip blurted, "Why should the admiral care about a bunch of rumors? Why can't people just mind their own business..."

"Because they can't. That's why the Admiral cares so much. We have every alien on the planet cowering in their embassies, tabloid reporters are selling their right arms get on Enterprise, not to mention the possibility that there could be more Terra Prime operatives on board. It has been suggested that the rumors are what caused your DNA to be stolen in the first place."

"Beggin' yer pardon, sir, but suggested by who?"

"Does it matter Trip? It makes sense. Terra Prime could have just as easily stolen my own DNA and benefited more from it."

"Logical," T'Pol commented.

Archer visibly forced himself to calm down. "Trip. Just tell me you've been a perfect gentleman and I'll believe you."

Trip opened his mouth to retort, but T'Pol cut him off. "He has, Captain."

Archer's face snapped over to T'Pol. She looked her Captain in the eye, "I have not been a 'perfect lady'."

"T'Pol..." Trip couldn't believe she even said that much.

Archer held up a hand, the gesture informing Trip that he best shut up. "Go on."

"Commander Tucker and I..." T'Pol's voice softened, "we bonded." She stared at the floor and waited for either man to say something. Anything.

It was Archer who finally spoke, after he got up to pace again. "I see."

It was worse than he thought. From Surak's katra he learned that he had best not interfere with a Vulcan (dare he think it) mating bond. If they were just knocking boots it would have been easier to enforce not frat regulations, but this... They just made commanding a starship about twenty times more difficult for him. And it pissed him off.

Archer's mouth turned into a thin line and Trip braced himself on the edge of his seat; Jon was about to explode.

"When?" Archer snapped.

T'Pol struggled to find her voice, "We were unaware of the bond until Trip transferred to Columbia."

Archer stopped pacing in front of the door, bodily blocking Trip from his desired goal. "What do you mean 'unaware'?"

"We didn't know the bond formed until we were apart from each other."

"Cap'n," Trip finally spoke, "Is this really necessary? She told you the truth. Hasn't she been through enough?"

"Trip. I'm more interested in what the hell you two were thinking in the first place. If you were unaware of it being formed, it was an accident." Archer glared back at T'Pol. "Perfect gentleman my ass."

That was it. It might have been the tone Jon used or the words. He had put up with his blatant disregard for the feelings, ethics, and opinions of the whole damn crew long enough. Before Archer had time to process what was happening, Trip was on his feet, fists balled at his sides, face contorted with a strained effort to keep his massive nostrils from flaring. "Permission to speak freely."

"Denied. Just answer the question, Commander: What the hell were you thinking?"

"None _ of _ your _ damn _ business, _ Captain." Trip enunciated each word with a vain hope of getting his point across.

T'Pol stood, getting ready to step between the two men. "Captain, I see no logic in bringing up events that happened over a year ago. I suggest we..."

"Save it, T'Pol." Archer kept his stare in Trip's face. "You're both dismissed."

T'Pol slowly walked towards the door, trying to shield herself from the rage emanating from Trip. She couldn't. It had been building up far too long. Before she could get her bondmate's attention away from their Captain it was too late. Trip's fist impacted with the Captain's jaw, causing him to reel backwards into the side of his desk with a painful sounding thud.

Instantly, the Captain was back on his feet ready to retaliate. He stopped short when he realized that Trip appeared to be in a state of shock at what he had just done; his confused eyes remained fixed on his trembling hands.

Archer wiped the blood from his lip and slapped the comm button. "Archer to Lieutenant Reed."

"Reed here, sir."

"Get in here and escort Commander Tucker to the brig."


***


"If you don't mind my asking, Trip, what the bloody hell did you do?"

Trip was still trembling from his encounter with the Captain. He tried sitting on the bench but couldn't seem to get his body to stay put even for a few seconds. "I slugged him. He couldn't keep his nose out of my business. Take a hint, Malcolm."

"You're joking."

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"Why would the Captain be prying into your personal life all of a sudden?"

Trip looked directly at the Brit. "Because he's a controlling son of a bitch."

Malcolm wasn't sure how to respond to that. Trip and Captain Archer were close when they first arrived on Enterprise, but over time they drifted. He wasn't sure when it started; perhaps as early as the Xyrillian incident, but even then it was hard to tell.

He remembered that Trip was made the laughing stock of the ship and the Captain did very little to prevent it. The Captain probably laughed at him along with the rest of the crew. But then again, thought Malcolm, I could barely keep a straight face when the Captain made the decision to let Klingons (and the entire bloody ship) in on his little secret. Malcolm wondered how a silent order to humiliate one's self could pass between the two with a single look. He found the implications of that line of reasoning to be somewhat disturbing.

Xyrillians aside, there were more pressing issues he seemed to be dealing with at the moment.

"Trip, you need to calm down," Malcolm finally said.

Trip bit his lower lip but couldn't seem to stop fidgeting, "Malcolm, what do you know about Vulcan mating practices?"

Malcolm was confused by the question but answered anyway, "They mate every seven years..."

"Not necessarily true, but what else?"

"Nothing."

"Exactly. Because Vulcans don't talk about it."

"And... this is what he was hassling you about?"

"I only know what you know. T'Pol won't even talk to me about it. But he was in there pressing us for all the juicy details."

"Details... like?"

"He demanded to know what we were thinking when we first..."

"Why does he need that information?"

"Who the hell knows."

"And that's why you hauled off and hit him."

"Wouldn't you?"

"I'm not sure. Perhaps."

"He was trying to reprimand us for... bonding."

"Bonding?"

"It's this thing that happens to Vulcan couples. We're in each other's heads."

"Sounds... dreadful."

"I thought so at first," Trip took a deep breath, "but now I don't think I could live without her being there."

"Well, I'm not sure I understand, but I'll try."

"Do you know what the worst part is?"

"Not sure I follow."

"This doesn't even come close to some of the other times he..." Trip trailed off knowing that if he continued he'd probably have a breakdown.

"Perhaps you should talk about this with T'Pol."

"Right, Malcolm, good luck getting the Captain to let me see her after this. He was about to tell us to break it off before I nailed him."

"How do you know? That doesn't sound like Captain Archer."

"He thinks we're a diplomatic risk."

"That sounds like Captain Archer."

If anyone understood, it was Malcolm Reed. They both knew the Captain was all about diplomatic relationships. His ship, his crew, and his friends were all secondary to his need to forge new alliances and make bold impressive speeches. For his daddy. Archer was every bit as radical as the Terra Prime operatives when it came to making interstellar friends. Trip dared not wonder if it made the man just as dangerous. The thought hurt too much.

"Malcolm. Don't worry about dragging T'Pol down here; I'll talk to her. In my head."

The notion of Trip contacting anyone in his head seemed silly to Malcolm. But then again, Trip was a silly man. "Very well then. How do you plan on getting out of this mess?"

"I don't."

SHIT! I got so fired up I hit the wrong key and closed my browser!

Ahem. Now, as I was saying before I so suddenly interrupted myself...

YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES!

More more more please please please?

*puppy dog eyes*

[CoffeeCat]

^well, I must say - I didn't anticipate this reaction (Although, I really really enjoyed writing it)

alright - I'll continue. It's been sitting in my google account for about a month now...

[evcake]

Thanks for sharing, CoffeeCat. I loved it. Most of all, I think you have Malcolm's dry delivery just right, and the dynamic between the two of them as well.
"Sir? May I please have some more?" (That's Mal with the Romulan mine stuck through his leg, not Oliver)

[Kevin Thomas Riley]

Nice one, CoffeeCat!

I'm not sure I like Cap'n Asshole to get any more asshole-ish though! God, you made be hate the fakker here!