Back on the surface, the Vulcan doctors run some tests and determine that T'Pol is suffering from Pa'nar Syndrome. That should teach her not to take e-pads from strange Vulcans.
Sick Bay. Trip and Pheezil Phlox phiddle around some more. Not that kind of phiddling -- although Pheezil wishes it were. At one point Trip comments, "This is a bitch," while trying to align the quantum filters on the new microscope, and has to explain to Pheezil that he didn't mean her. "I wish our TV had a Quantum Filter," Mathra snarks. Over at one of his stations, Phlox asks about various husbands and wives back home. This has the effect of snowballing him and Pheezil into trading all sorts of dirt on their extended conjugal families. Trip runs into problems with his brain getting in the way of being productive on the new microscope, but Pheezil slides a hand over his shoulder and assures him that he'll catch on soon enough. Phlox chuckles to himself over Pheezil's last nugget of gossip, and walks over to them. As Pheezil still has her paws on him, Trip looks edgily at Phlox, who appears oblivious to his discomfort as he continues to natter away about wives and husbands as though he were a D.H. Lawrence novel. Quantum calls Phlox and asks him to dance attendance on him. Phlox leaves, telling his "beloved" that he'll be back. Trip chuckles nervously at Pheezil. I like the fact that Pheezil singsongs the same way Phlox does. It's a nice touch.
Quantum's Quarters. Phlox enters and finds T'Pol already there. Quantum informs them, "It's been awhile since I was embarrassed by a Vulcan dignitary." Aw, don't worry -- I'm sure you won't have to wait half so long next time. Quantum grinds out what we already know: Phlox asked for info from the Vulcans on Pa'nar Syndrome on behalf of a Denobulan colleague. Phlox agrees with this. "And...both...of...youSAID...T'Polhadnothingtodo...with...that...request," Quantum Kirks. Phlox looks sidelong at T'Pol. "Are...both...ofyougoing...to lie to me...likeyouliedtothem?" Quantum wonders, walking over for a brief gaze out his Weight Of The World Window. Phlox assures Quantum that he was never planning on lying to him. "And...when...were...you...going...to...tellmeyou've...contracted...a...serious...illness?" Quantum asks T'Pol. On her deathbed. "Sir?" T'Pol plays dumb. Quantum explains that the Vulcans handed her an e-pad, and from that they scanned her DNA and pegged her as someone they have future plans to spurn her from their society for the rest of her natural-born life. SPURN, I say! Quantum tries to act as though he has reasons to be angry with T'Pol for lying to some doctors he thinks -- in his misguided, fatheaded way -- can help her. T'Pol remains silent in her suffering, so Quantum demands that Phlox to tell him how long he's been the Subcommander's confidante. Phlox admits, "Nearly a year." Quantum really wants to set himself up for righteous indignation, so he goes off on a tangent about having captainly privilege where his crew is concerned or some such rot -- I'll admit that I'm not entirely certain, as I was distracted by quaffing a nice Valpolicella from the Veneto.