Title: Sunrise, Sunset
Author: Vesper (Regina)
E-mail: vespertanmer@yahoo.com
Warnings: none
Category: ENT, drama, future fic
Codes: Tu/S, R/T'P, CiaC
Summary: CiaC--Grandfather, Shimmering, Rose
Disclaimer: The almighty Paramount encircled by twenty-two stars
owns this particular show, but I own the story.
Archival: Permission to--Warp 5 Complex (EntSTCommunity),
Linguistics Database; anyone else, just let me know where. Please
keep these headers intact.

*

The sun is setting, with vibrant shades that glint and glimmer off
the waves outside. He watches it from inside the large bay
windows.

He's seen the sun set and rise many times in his life.

Once, on leave from the Enterprise, he'd caught a sunrise. She
had been in dry-dock, after ten years of service, come back to
Earth for repairs and upgrades. Though technically off-duty, he'd
stayed to supervise. There was no telling what the assistant
engineers would do while his back was turned.

He supposes, now, that all engineers feel the same way about their
ships.

They told him to go home and go to sleep, but Enterprise was being
cranky, not accepting a particular programming protocol and he'd
stayed through the night. Finally, he'd transported to the
surface. He wasn't tired, feeling invigorated from the battle
Enterprise had given him. He could have taken the transit, but
he decided to walk, thinking it would tire him out enough to
sleep.

By the time he'd reached the hotel he was calling home, he felt
like he'd never seen a sunrise before.

She was there. She was always there. She kissed him when he came
in, wouldn't listen as he tried to describe what he'd seen, in
words that she probably could have found better than he, and sent
him straight to bed.

She has put up with him forever, he thinks.

From upstairs comes the sound of girlish giggling and a low voice,
a little worn by time, but still soft and melodious. He smiles.

She'll be coming downstairs soon, and there will be a young man
waiting for her, to take her dancing.

Starfleet retired him at sixty. He felt this was good enough. He
was tired of younger officers calling him Admiral and not knowing
how much he itched to get at the new engines. Time is just, he
thinks. They'll have their wanderlust and come home again and
again, only to long for the beat of their ship's heart underneath
their feet. They'll be called Admiral and wish they were out
among the stars again.

He made a choice, one he doesn't regret. Not if he could keep
her, instead. He has only traded one love for another, but the
choice was right. She has a patrician grace now, aging a
thousand times better than he has. He always tells her that and
she always laughs. She still kisses him in the morning and she
still kisses him at night, and each kiss makes him feel like that
sunrise did--blessed, cherished, entrusted with a precious gift.

It was his grand-daughter's sixteenth birthday today. He wishes
his daughter and son-in-law were alive to see the graceful young
woman Rebekah has become.

A sharp tapping clashes on his ears and he looks over at the young
man whose leg is bouncing up and down.

He stops when he notices the steady stare.

"I'm sorry, sir," he says.

He relaxes back against his seat at the encouraging smile he
receives.

Trip has always liked this young man, even if he has an over-
abundance of manners. Of course, he thinks, Malcolm Reed's
grandson wouldn't be anything but proper. Especially with T'Pol
as his grandmother. Their partnership, as they chose to call it,
raised more eyebrows than just his own.

The Vulcans disavowed any knowledge of T'Pol when they got wind of
what she'd done, but the Reed family has always been welcome at
the Tucker household, even if they had beat them to adding
members. Their adoption went through a month before Hoshi had
Elizabeth.

Arthur stands, surprising Trip until he hears the tap of a
high-heeled shoe against the wood of the staircase.

His grand-daughter comes down the stairs, dressed in a gown that
seems luminescent. Its color shades from the most delicate rose,
to the most vibrant orange--a sunset come to life. She shimmers
in the light. Trip can see so much of her mother in her, but more
of her grandmother in the black hair that curls around her face.
Her green eyes are all her own, though. Behind her stands Hoshi,
tears in her eyes.

It wasn't too long ago, that Elizabeth came down to meet her own
young man.

Rebekah stops at the foot of the stairs and stands there, looking
down, the picture of shy innocence. Until she looks up. There is
a light of mischief in her eyes, and when her smile brightens her
face, Trip knows Arthur is a goner.

He looks over at his best friend's grandson, who wears the look of
a man enchanted.

Rebekah says, "Well, Art, are you going to say anything?"

Arthur gulps, visibly, and says, "You look beautiful, Bekah."

Her blush rivals the rose of the fading sunset. Arthur holds out
his arm and Bekah places her hand in the crook of her elbow. He
leads her out of the house, whispering something that makes
Rebekah almost double over with laughter.

Hoshi comes downstairs, drops a kiss on Trip's mouth and sits
beside him. They watch the sunset drift to twilight, in
comfortable silence, Hoshi resting against his side.

She says, after a long time, "What are you thinking?"

He answers, "I'm thinking...she's gonna break his heart."

She laughs. "Is that all?"

"No. We did good, Hoshi."

"Yes, we did, Trip."

End.