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Summary
Three years with a ring in his pocket and all for naught, apparently, compared to T’Pol who had turned to Trip one evening as he was reading over a report on a PADD, his glasses perched on his nose and a frown on his face over the general need of needing the damn things, and asked, “Would you consider marrying me next month when we arrive on Vulcan?”
Trip, only half listening, had begun with, “Yeah, sure thing,” before pausing and dropping his PADD onto his lap. “Wait! Now wait a damned second! Did you just—” He gaped at her and T’Pol gave him that look that was the equivalent to smirking and rolling her eyes at him.
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Bookmark Notes:
this person gets it. there are real tears in my eyes
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Bookmark Notes:
BEAUTIFUL!!! I love the writing and characterization
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Bookmark Notes:
Enterprise