Two

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Trip towered over me as we walked down the hall towards the Launch Pad together. All preparations were complete and we were about to depart.

"How bad were the damages? Your men gonna be working double shifts?" I stared straight ahead, my eyes on my destination.

"Not too horrible. We've seen worse. It'll be as easy to fix as the time you accidentally--"

I sighed, looking down. "Are you ever going to let that go? I was thirteen."

"You blew a hole in the side of your room! You're lucky you were closer to the wall leading into the hallway or you'd've been a goner."

I smiled softly and he rose an eyebrow.

"Aha, look at that! She does have emotions after all," his expression was gentle as he looked at me.

"Oh, I've been compromised! I meant," I put on my best poker-face. "I found that amusing, Commander Tucker."

Laughing, we both walked through the doors to the Launch Bay.

Standing by Shuttlepod One was my father. We sobered up upon seeing him.

"Captain Archer. Commander Tucker reporting for duty," his back straightened and he held his hands behind his back.

I looked around. "Uh... your daughter, reporting for duty?"

I'm not a member of Starfleet. I have no title. What else am I supposed to say?

I thought I saw a small smile quirk at my father's lips, but it was gone quickly.

"You are both aware of your duties?"

"Yes, sir," Trip and I said in unison.

"I trust you both to make this a successful mission. There's not much to say other than, 'I'll see you in ten days.' You're both dismissed."

We began walking towards the shuttlepod.

"Oh, and Trip," my father called. Trip turned to look at him. "Take care of my daughter."

"I will, sir. I promise," he nodded.

We loaded onto the shuttlepod and prepared for launch.

---

"I can't believe you! You're a natural!" Trip picked me up, spinning me around. I laughed, holding onto his shoulders to keep from losing balance. "You got us enough tritanium alloy to last for months!"

"Put me down, Charles!" I slapped his arm, but I was laughing.

"Sorry, I forgot," he planted my feet back firmly on the ground and held his palms out towards me. "'No touchie.'"

I punched him in the arm. "Looks like I was a pretty handy person to have around, after all."

His smile faltered and he hung his head before looking up at me from under his lashes. "You... heard my conversation with your father."

I looked away. "A bit, yeah."

"Look, Emily--"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me. You were right. I'm not a member of Starfleet, I--"

"No, listen to me! We're gonna talk this out. Don't shut down on me," he turned his chair to face me.

"...Fine. I'm listening."

"Okay," he scooted his seat closer to me, "Emily. You're a good kid," I flinched, but he didn't seem to notice. He continued, "and I don't wanna see you getting hurt, knowing I probably could've done something to stop it."

"So it's a guilt thing. Then I'm glad you left here with a clear conscience," I still didn't look at him.

"Emily," he sighed. "Won't you look at me?"

I rolled my head around dramatically to look at him.

"I didn't mean it like that..." he leaned towards me and looked me in the eyes. I couldn't help but look in his. "I like you. It would be a shame to see ya get hurt."

"It's fine, Charles. It is common for humans to be motivated by guilt, or the prevention of it in your case."

"You say that like you're not one," he eyed me studiously.

I looked into his blue eyes and my heart fluttered a little quicker.

"Sometimes I wish I wasn't."

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