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Commander Tucker guesses this is one more thing he’ll have to file under the mental heading “Vulcan Mysteries.” He’s faced this woman’s disdain, her contempt and the glint in her eyes that, suppressed emotions be damned, told him that she could kick his teeth down his throat without breaking a sweat.
T’Pol’s pulled the crew together and carried out a plan after hours of Suliban torture. Tucker’s seen her face down Starfleet and the Vulcan High Command. He’s watched her take down a Klingon marauder and dive into the path of a plasma bullet.
Still, here in her quarters, when she asks for his assistance it’s different. He doesn’t know if it’s a trick of the dim light but there’s something akin to vulnerability in her eyes. Her breath hitches and the skin of her bare back warms under his fingers. Suddenly, she’s never seemed more intimidating.