"Spock, would you please hold my camel while I straighten my skirt?" Nyota asked.

One dark eyebrow angled up in an amused slant. Spock, who had chosen to walk and observe New Vulcan's rural terrain and vegetation more closely, turned to her, his footsteps crunching lightly on the loose, reddish dirt. A light, warm breeze ruffled his hair and the sleeves of his tunic, made long for protection from the sun.

Aware of the scrutiny of the other Vulcans nearby, Spock quickly returned his face to its usual impassivity. His fingers deliberately brushed Nyota's as he took the camel's reins. Her skin prickled as she sensed his thoughts.

End of day, alone, roof garden. Water. Wash with cleansing herbs. Hold you close. Kiss. Then to our bed...but we shall not sleep.

The Dromedary camel, part of a large herd donated by a well-meaning, ambitious Earth diplomat, stopped fidgeting and stared down at Spock as though puzzled by the intensity of the way he looked at Nyota. Upon learning that Sarek had invited Spock and his human bondmate to make their first visit to New Vulcan as a couple, Sancis, one of the more sociable members of the New Vulcan Parliament suggested a morning camel ride and hike through the plains surrounding the capital city as an informative recreational activity.

Spock had visited New Vulcan several times previously, each time alone. With each visit he felt more mature, more like the man he'd already believed himself to be. He also craved Nyota's physical and mental closeness more with each visit. A few Vulcans continued to treat him with suspicious disdain for his human heritage and his involvement with Starfleet. Spock returned each time to the Enterprise carrying a mixed burden of worry and relief that he struggled to carry even while he pulled Nyota close to him, seeking acceptance and comfort.

"The countryside surrounding the capital city is very aesthetically pleasing," Spock said. "My previous visits here have kept me confined to meetings inside the parliamentary chambers. Although hope is an illogical concept, it is my desire that our first visit here together will be an agreeable one."

The area they traversed was surprisingly fertile, full of dark green, blue, and red plants, some treelike and others low to the ground. Birdlike creatures flew overhead or burrowed into hillsides. Gently rolling hills led to dramatic stony ridges in the distance. Somewhere ahead, a river flowed through a hidden valley.

"What is the cause of the delay?" a stern voice among the group on the path ahead of them inquired, sounding almost impatient.

"It seems difficult for that human to maintain a steady pace. She does not have the strength of a Vulcan woman," someone else murmured.

This handful of the surviving Vulcan elite - even among what was now a refugee community, class stratification persisted - seemed to forget that Nyota could hear and understand them. No one bothered to use one of the colloquial Vulcan dialects to conceal their words. Nyota's fluency in four of the five colloquial Vulcan dialects meant that she'd likely understand the veiled insult anyway, but it would have been polite of them to at least make an effort.

"The surviving members of the house of Slomare include two unmarried daughters. There are still some Vulcan women to be had." This last commentary was made in a voice low enough to escape the notice of Sarek, who was some distance ahead, but loud enough for the couple to hear.

Spock's eyes narrowed, a frown line creasing his forehead. The camel took a couple of steps away from him.

Nyota gave him a wry smile and shook her head. "As my parents always said, Wala kutoa maovu kwa maovu , wala madhara kwa kuumiza / do not render evil for evil, nor hurt for hurt," she said softly. Then she raised her voice and spoke loudly in Vulcan, using her clearest, most emotionless pronunciation.

"I request the favor of your patience while I adjust my clothing; it became disordered during the ride, and it impairs my ability to direct the camel. Please do not feel compelled to wait for me."

Nyota ducked behind the camel and out of view.

----------------------

Wala kutoa maovu kwa maovu , wala madhara kwa kuumiza (do not render evil for evil, nor hurt for hurt ) = Swahili translation, not precise. Romans 12:17, also 1 Peter 3:9. Because Nyota Uhura's character name (it is Swahili) biography suggests that her family of origin is in Eastern Africa, I'm writing her as someone who has had an Anglican church influence in her life. In our own times, the Anglican Communion experiences some its most notable growth outside the United Kingdom and North America; therefore, it doesn't seem unlikely that it will exist a few centuries from now.

"Resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die. "

- Carrie Fisher, 20th/21st centuries

...

Aboard the Enterprise

Twelve Standard Hours Before the Journey to New Vulcan

"Spock's hot, in a creepy way. I wonder how easy it would be to take him from that frozen bitch Uhura."

"I bet it's the ears. They're probably super sensitive. Maybe he doesn't use his dick at all."

"Eeew! Nah, he's humanoid, probably has the same plumbing. Maybe I could get him drunk, just to see. I'd show him a good time. I've heard Africans can be really religious and uptight, so he's probably desperate."

"Greetings, crewmates," Nyota said calmly, rising from beneath the communications panel where she'd been replacing a set of memory modules. She'd decided to perform the work herself instead of filing a repair request with the overworked tech crew.

Any humanoid could have heard one of the tiny connection pins of the modules drop onto the floor in the silence that followed.

"Do you wish to continue this discussion, Ensign?" asked Nyota.

"Listen, uh...hey, Uhura, kidding. Just joking."

"The proper form of address is Lieutenant." Nyota sighed. This ensign had seemed so promising, so knowledgeable; such a lack of common sense and caution was regrettable.

"Lieutenant," the two said, one defiantly. How interesting.

Steadying her voice, Nyota recited the standard reprimand. "I will remind both of you of the importance Starfleet places upon professional behavior in our workplace. This is a five-year mission, as I need not remind you. Please take time to review official ethics and personal standards policies, with particular attention to the case studies regarding personal privacy - that includes gossip - and personal security within Starfleet."

She turned her attention to the more aggressive of the two. "In addition, as your superior officer I strongly advise you to undergo cultural competency training, as you appear to be confused, ill-informed, or ignorant about African cultural customs, assuming that they are all the same. Need I remind you that the United States of Africa is comprised of different countries and that religious denominations, traditions, and the interpretations of same vary widely depending upon history, geographic location, and various localized factors?"

She shook her head, never breaking eye contact. "You work for Starfleet. Generalizing about cultures, or assuming that one group of beings is all alike, is not only disrespectful to your colleagues in an intergalactic, interspecies workforce; it could be dangerous to insult someone during an away mission."

Switching languages, she spoke in the colloquial style of the offender's home city, pleased to hear a surprised gasp in response. "Ya got potential, ya know? Knowledgeable, lotsa energy. But ya disappoint me as yer manager, talking behind my back. Iz dumb, get me? Don't do it again. I gotta report ya if ya do."

"Are you or aren't you going to report me this time, Lieutenant?"

"Can't tell ya that, I gotta think it ovah." She switched back to Standard. "Dismissed."

Apologizing with varying degrees of sincerity, the pair left.

Should she file a report, and how much should she say? She'd overheard so many similar conversations that it hardly seemed worth the time. Nyota couldn't always harden her heart against the whispers and rumors. There were too many nights when Spock could not lie with her and talk while they stroked the tension away from each other's muscles. Agitated, she walked the corridors of the ship late at night, unable to listen to music, or read, or knit, or sleep.

McCoy enjoyed a bit of distracting conversation during such times, if he were not working or deep in a sorrowful mood, refusing to open his door or respond to his communicator. Sometimes Nyota called Gaila, or sought out one of her handful of genuine, discreet friends aboard ship.

Occasionally she visited Scotty. Sociable at any hour, he would pause in his mysterious mechanical tinkering. Sometimes Nyota found Scotty retrieving oddly shaped, unmarked packages from the transporter room; when asked about their contents, he only smiled and laid a finger alongside his nose in a secretive gesture, revealing nothing. Anyone might suspect him of espionage if his utter devotion to Starfleet and adoration for the Enterprise were not so obvious. Only Jim Kirk loved the ship more.

On this night, with less than twenty-four hours to go before she and Spock visited Sarek on New Vulcan, Nyota's nerves would not calm down enough to let her meditate, pray, or ease her apprehension and excitement with music. Spock had two hours left before his shift ended; she had packed her bag and completed her work for the day. Normally able to entertain herself, she didn't want to be alone. She opened a channel on her communicator.

"Jonesy? Glad that I reached you. How are you?"

"Hey, Nyota," the other woman replied cheerfully. "Can't complain. I'm just about to go back on shift; I'm covering for Miranda while she's on leave. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm just a bundle of nervous energy, can't calm down about New Vulcan. I was going to ask if you wanted to walk a mile on the ship."

"Any other time,yes, but I had to take this extra shift, such a good opportunity to work with that team from Sciences again. Come and say goodbye before you leave for New Vulcan,okay?"

Nyota promised to visit and signed off. She tried a few other people; all were either asleep, eating, or working, so she began to walk the ship in solitude.

Somehow she found herself in Engineering, crossing paths with Scotty as he signed out of his shift for the day.

"Be strong, lass," he said with a wink as he walked with her, listening to her explain her anxiety-fueled wanderings and her distress at being the object of ship's gossip. She tried not to provide specific names or details, but the engineer heard and saw far more than many realized.

"Have ye got a padd with ye?" he asked.

She did, a small one, and held it out for him to write into.

Forte est vinum

fortior est rex

fortiores sunt mulieres

super omnia vincit veritas.

"Wine is strong, a king is stronger, women are stronger still, but truth conquers all"

(1 Esdras, chapters 3 & 4 - an ancient Greek version of the book of Ezra in the Christian Bible of Earth).

Look up and you'll find this quotation inscribed on an architrave connected to the Apprentice Pillar inside Rosslyn Chapel during your next visit to the village of Roslin (Midlothian), Scotland

Winking, Scotty handed the small padd back to her. "Think on that, Uhura. "

"I will, thank you." The engineer was full of surprises. Despite his gregarious nature, she realized that he revealed little of his inner self.

"Ignore the gossip. There are always some who complain of their own glass bein' half empty, while others will pour generously from their own glass to share a bit of cheer wit 'ye. That first lot wants others to share their misery. Truth is that Spock is happy with ye - as happy as Vulcans get, that is - and the pair of ye are well matched. Balance is just as important for lovebirds as it is for flywheels and rocket boosters."

"Have you got a companion somewhere, Scotty?" Nyota asked hesitantly. "If you don't mind my asking?"

"There are some things a man cannot tell...especially when there is no simple answer."

"In other words, there might be someone and 'It's complicated'?"

Scotty only blushed, shrugged, and changed the subject. Nyota knew better than to press for more.

"Come by my quarters, lass, see what I brought back with me from my last stop on Risa."

Mindful of possible misinterpretations of her presence in his quarters, the engineer discreetly requested that the computer leave the door to his quarters slightly open while Nyota was inside.

A enormous crate of fruit sat on the floor below a painted representation of the Scott coat of arms, a framed London International Ska Festival poster, a reproduction of an old whiskey advertisement, and various schematic drawings of the Enterprise.

Nyota made a nonverbal sound of delight, staring at the bountiful heap of fragrant, colorful fruits. Easily recognizable were papayas, breadfruit, pineapple, soursop, mangoes, oranges, grapefruit, limes, and guava. Other unfamiliar, non-Earth fruits looked just as appealing. Several coconuts were bundled tidily into a net and strapped to clamps on the wall as a safety measure in the event of turbulence or gravitational problems.

"You had a mighty fine time on shore leave! So many different kinds of fruit - it reminds me of home."

"There's no rhyme or reason to the variety," Scotty said. "I just asked every fruit vendor in the market what they had in stock that might travel well through the beam. Pick something out for yourself."

Nyota lifted a large mango with vividly shaded green and orange skin to her nose. It smelled too fresh, too sweetly ripe to be the product of a replicator, "Oh, real fruit grown outdoors is such a treat aboard ship. Thanks, Scotty. I've got to find people to share it with!"

"Be a glutton and eat it yourself, Uhura, I'll keep your secret. Take two mangoes, I'm feeling rich. I've already begun giving this all away before it gets too ripe. Might keep the coconuts for m'self, try to make something out of the shells. Take something different for Spock, if you like; I hope he won't call it contraband."

"Hmm...I'll try one of these, he likes tart flavors."

Scotty was tempted to make a joke, a play on words involving sourness and Spock's stern disposition or Nyota's use of the word tart. He decided against it as Nyota smiled at him and placed a grateful kiss on the side of his face.

"Well, thank you, Lieutenant. Glad Spock wasn't here to see that, I don't fancy having my nerves pinched. Go rest yourself and be well."

"I'm grateful to you, Scotty, both for the fruit and for listening to me; you're a darling. Good night."

"Off with you before that Vulcan sends out a search party. Goodnight, Uhura."

Scotty sighed as the door slid completely shut behind her. It was true that he'd already shared the fruit with his engineering staff, random crew members he'd encountered in the hallway, Sulu and other bridge officers, and the night cleaning staff. He hadn't shared it with one special person, however. Was it worth extending an invitation?

"Computer, dim lights. Contact the occupant of cabin number AE-443-98."

...

Spock carefully bent back the smooth green and orange skin of the mango; the little squares scored into the fruit's golden flesh spread apart, releasing a pleasant fragrance. Pressing steadily, he moved the shiny silver blade in a downward motion along the base of the cubes and the little squares dropped into a small bowl. Spock lifted the tiny, moist gold cubes from the pile, one by one, creating a trail from each of his bondmate's nipples to her navel. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have placed his hands directly on the surface of unpeeled fruit, but he did not intend to consume this fruit in a normal fashion. It was acceptable to break certain rules behind closed doors.

He leaned on one elbow, admiring his handiwork. Nyota's large, dark eyes gazed back at him. The golden cubes rose and fell as she attempted to keep her breathing steady.

"Mangoes are among my favorite fruits, but I never thought about serving them like this," she said softly.

"Consider it an experiment. It was very kind of you to share the first mango with me. Indeed, I found its scent and flavor so agreeable that I wished to experience the second mango in alternative ways, in order to satisfy my curiosity. It was wise of you to remind me that some people enjoy eating mangoes in combination with spices or salt. Although I do not wish to use sodium crystals, I would like to know what it is like to combine mangoes with the slightly salty taste of your skin."

He rose up and leaned over the little dip between her collarbones, where he had placed a single cube of fruit. "Shall we begin?"

...

Spock's soft, full lower lip pressed against Nyota's skin as he retrieved the first cube of diced mango. She felt his mouth opening as he took the fruit between his teeth, held it on his tongue, then bit down and swallowed it.

"Agreeable," he murmured. "But it is not enough. I must have more." He licked the spot, seeking the juice left behind.

The heating system inside her quarters was turned up to a Vulcan-friendly warmth, but Nyota was sure that she felt goosebumps rising on her skin as his mouth moved down.

"I always bought you unripe mangoes when we were in San Francisco, because you said you didn't like most sugary things," she said. "Next time we're there, I'm running right off to the market for a bushel of ripe, sweet ones."

Spock's mouth curved in a smile against her skin before his lips closed over one nipple and the fruit resting atop it. He sucked. She gasped and trembled. He made a purring sound, swallowed, kissed her skin, spoke.

"That is an excellent suggestion, t'hy'la. I am grateful to you for teaching me about the merits of the mango in its riper condition." He moved above her and looked at her suggestively. "Ripeness makes it...sticky and wet. The act of eating a piece of mango is not dissimilar to certain intensely pleasurable activities I engage in with you."

Earlier, Spock had bitten and licked the flesh of the piece of mango she gave him, then sucked greedily at the sweet pieces remaining on the skin while casting heated looks in her direction. His behavior led to both of them getting naked.

"Spock, you're a master of clean dirty talk."

He picked up another cube of fruit from her belly and ate it. "Nyota, I have not used one profane word. I am simply stating that I can efficiently use my lips, tongue, and teeth to suck, lick, and tease away the sweetness of a piece of fruit. I am most fortunate that you allow me frequent opportunities to practice these skills within an intimate setting...by allowing me to tease, lick, and suck you."

"Ahh...I think that I'm the one who's fortunate," she moaned as his mouth moved down again to retrieve another piece, to lick, gently bite, to suck. "You're making me crazy," she whimpered.

"Such an action is both impossible and illogical; however, I find it gratifying to know that my actions result in your use of this colloquial expression." He lifted his head again. "I admit that it excites me. I could tell you this through our bond, but you like to hear me say it aloud, do you not? Your pulse beats more quickly in response." His mouth moved down again, nibbling away the fruit and stimulating her skin and her thoughts.

"Mmm..."

"Ashalik, you wish me to move down more quickly," he teased, "but will you ask me?"

"Please, Spock."

"Clarification requested. Tell me what you want."

"You know what I want!"

Even after two years together, some shyness remained. Simply grabbing Spock and pulling his clothes off was much easier than explicitly stating her desires He was in a playful mood today, and would not let her hide. Spock placed his shoulders between her thighs and pressed gently outwards, opening her. "Hearing it will please me."

"I...I want you to..."

"Say it, ashayam," he coaxed. "Make me helpless; make me reckless for you."

Images of what they'd done the last time he'd felt reckless rushed into her mind, making her heart pound. She trembled as the words spilled out.

"Please, fuck me, Spock. Kiss me - there - lick me, let me ride you, then turn us over and ride me. I want you." Her face grew hot with shame, but she'd said it and couldn't take it back; he didn't seem to mind.

Suddenly there was a lot less thinking and a lot more movement.

After several blissful minutes, they heard a voice that did neither moaned nor whispered and indeed, belonged to neither of them. "Commander Spock, please report to the Bridge immediately regarding a confidential matter."

They gazed at each other in panting, disappointed disbelief before Spock controlled his breathing and carefully withdrew from her, physically and emotionally. He flipped open his communicator, the image setting off. "I will report to the Bridge within seven minutes. Spock out."

Words were superfluous. Spock cast a look of regret at Nyota before stepping into the cleansing unit in the bathroom. Sighing, she pulled on a large, loose shirt and cleared away the mango peel and seeds. By the time she turned away from her tiny kitchenette, Spock was pulling his Science blue tunic over his black undershirt.

Her hands moved over the bed, leaving its surface tidy and smooth as though no one had ever pleaded with a lover there.

"Nyota, I will return to you as soon as duty permits. If this is not an emergency situation, I expect that our journey to New Vulcan will proceed as planned."

"Yes, beloved. Go now, don't be late because of me."

Spock lifted her hand away from the bed and pressed two fingers to hers; then he turned and left.

Nyota sighed again and headed for the cleansing unit.

An hour passed. She gave up on the idea of rekindling the heat they'd shared together; she needed to sleep. Maybe she could call Gaila first.

...

"WHAT? Gods, who is it?" Gaila blinked at the screen. "Oh! Ny! How are you, honey?" She pulled up the edge of a bedsheet, but it covered little of her bountiful emerald cleavage.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Gaila! I should have messaged you before opening a comm channel. I can contact you later."

A pair of well-muscled legs was barely visible behind Gaila's shoulder. The bed coverings twitched, quickly concealing the bare flesh.

"Um, we were kind of taking a break anyway." Even though Gaila was in her own private cabin on a different ship, she responded as though they were still roomates at Starfleet Academy, showing a bit of mild embarrassment. "I can talk for a couple of minutes."

"Seriously, I think I'd better call later. Looks like you're doing very well at the moment," Nyota said as a second pair of legs moved into view behind Gaila. A hand reached out and stole the bedcovers from the other person. Nyota suppressed a giggle. "You're entertaining company, so I'll check in after I get to New Vulcan."

"A few hours from now might be best, yeah," Gaila said distractedly. She leaned toward the screen and wiggled her eyebrows, then spoke in Orion. "I was just about to ask him to go, but I've decided that she's staying. We get along really well."

"Gaila! How does each one of them feel about you? Be a little more sensitive."

"Hey, neither one speaks Orion," Gaila shrugged. "Anyway, I've got the emotional thing all figured out this time. Really, I do! Travel safely, be blessed, and take care of yourself and your Vulcan." Gaila waved goodbye; the bedsheet dropped, leaving her nude as she ended the connection.

...

"That is impossible."

Apprehensive, Spock crossed his arms across his broad chest and stared at Jim Kirk.

"I have privately accessed planetary security records for New Vulcan and no Romulan spacecraft or espionage devices have been detected. It would be exceedingly difficult for any Romulan to land without detection long before before planetfall. In addition, the population of New Vulcan remains small and easy to monitor. Outsiders are easily noticed by Vulcans, generally speaking." Spock knew that all too well.

Feeling stressed and tired, Jim sighed and leaned forward across the table. "Cloaking technologies change by the month, we both know that. I'm not saying that New Vulcan's technologists aren't making the greatest possible effort to support defense and planetary security. I'm only saying this: Federation intelligence detected communications on a subspace channel and the name 'Sarek' was clearly mentioned as 'a leader of opinion', to quote directly. These reports may be wrong; maybe the readings don't refer to spacecraft or transmissions at all, but to atmospheric anomalies."

Spock remained impassive. "No doubt your name and mine are occasionally mentioned in obscure Romulan language transmissions...given our personal history of direct combat with Romulans. I do not think that I have sufficient data regarding this situation to warrant the cancellation of our visit."

Jim spread out his hands, exasperated. "Stop being so stubborn! I'm not trying to tell you to cancel your visit, Spock. Just consider the possibility of risk to Sarek, and to you and Uhura. And to New Vulcan as a whole."

"Have you considered the possibility of error? If anyone were able to send Romulan-language transmissions off planet, using normal communications channels, it would be easily noticed. Communications are carefully monitored on New Vulcan for security reasons. Perhaps Federation intelligence has made a linguistic error resulting from the similarities between Vulcan and Romulan. Lieutenant Uhura could make a useful analysis of these allegedly Romulan transmissions."

"I don't want her involved," Jim replied.

"May I ask why?"

"At least one of the transmissions referred to your father. Women are likely to respond emotionally, and perhaps impulsively, when they feel that a family member - a father-in-law, for example - is threatened."

"I was unaware that you were an expert on human female psychology, Jim."

"Don't go there, all right? Listen, Uhura's too close to the situation...and so are you."

"This additional information only strengthens my resolve to visit New Vulcan. If my father is in danger, it is my duty as his son, and as a citizen of New Vulcan, to make an effort to secure his safety."

"It may be risky."

"Is even one day in Starfleet absent of risk? Consider the large and small risks inherent in the daily operations of the Enterprise, for example. There is a thirty-seven point four percent risk that the waste system on Deck Five, Section Twenty-three may experience periodic delays in functionality resulting from -"

"Spock. Spare me. Please. "

"Jim, I cannot delay this visit, and I must have Nyota with me. My reasons are both personal and diplomatic. I will thoroughly review the Federation's intelligence report regarding this unusual transmission, and assess the risk. If a clear danger presents itself, we shall remain aboard. If we do travel, I request that you give the order for the establishment of a private communications channel to be used for intelligence updates."

"So you'll be spying for Starfleet?"

"It is not spying, simply a transfer of intelligence information between members of the Federation. I see no conflict of interest. Indeed, one might say that I will communicate with you in friendship."

"Oh." Jim always felt slightly surprised by Spock's occasional expressions of emotional attachment; they were rare enough that he knew them to be genuine. "Good. I'd like to hear from you, find out how you're both managing. Family visits with partners can be challenging sometimes." Not that he'd know; he'd never taken a girl home to meet any of his own relatives. He wondered what it would be like to be welcomed into a big family where the other people were actually related to you, unlike the semblance of family he had aboard the Enterprise.

 "Stay safe, both of you."

...

Spock left his meeting with Jim and strode to the turbolift, deep in thought. He and Nyota were due to report to the transporter room and travel to New Vulcan within a few hours.

What should he do?

He could tell Nyota everything, in violation of the Captain's order.

He could conceal everything, taking a calculated risk and accepting two possible outcomes:

a)she would find out that he had concealed the facts from her and ask him why he did not consider her capable of dealing with potentially dangerous situations (he could easily imagine the hurt expression in her large, dark eyes as she gazed back at him).

or

(b) she would never know.

He could cancel their visit and explain to Sarek.

He could drop "hints" to Nyota about the risk, but conceal certain details.

The turbolift glided to a stop. Spock decided upon the last option.

...

Unconsciously, Nyota echoed Spock's earlier words to Jim. "So our visit may be risky. What else is new? Starfleet life is risky in general. Honey, you know I think about that all the time. That's why I try to let you know every day how much I cherish you."

"Do you wish to travel to New Vulcan despite this unidentified risk?"

Nyota rolled over on her side and rested a hand on his chest. "You aren't saying it plainly, but it's those subspace transmissions, the messages mentioning Sarek. True?"

Spock's eyebrows rose. "I deliberately avoided mentioning my father's name when I described this situation to you."

"Do you think you're the only one who reads New Vulcan security reports? You didn't want me to worry, I suppose, but I like to be prepared for new situations. I have ways of accessing classified intelligence materials, too. A colleague heard that I was traveling to New Vulcan and suggested that I access recordings of certain anomalous, anonymous subspace transmissions."

"Yet you did not tell me."

"Don't be angry at me; I only learned two days ago. I assumed that you had already been informed. I was waiting for you to raise the subject with me. When you didn't, I thought that you weren't ready to discuss it yet."

He sighed. "I dislike it when we misunderstand each other."

"Next time, I will tell you as soon as I hear about any danger. I promise."

"Despite the risk...you wish to accompany me."

"I do, and I will try to help Sarek in any way that I can. I take my family ties seriously, you know that. Whatever's waiting on New Vulcan...I hope that we can face it together."

Spock folded her into his embrace. He said no more that night, but she sensed his gratitude. Thank you, ashayam.

Nyota slept fitfully during the few hours left before their departure. Spock stroked her back while her dreams shifted in and out of anxiety. He shut his eyes against the darkness and tried to meditate.

...

Sarek greeted them warmly. Although he did not embrace Spock, he briefly clasped Spock's shoulder and allowed Nyota to briefly clasp his hand. Although they had met several times before, she had previously refrained from physical contact when greeting him. Very likely, she came from a family of huggy, kissy people, as his beloved Amanda had.

When he showed the couple their semi-private, three room guesthouse at the diplomatic mansion, Sarek noticed Nyota press two fingers into Spock's palm as they walked around the small rooftop garden. His son went still for a moment, then opened his palm fully and pressed his hand to hers. The interaction took only a few seconds, but Sarek felt a sense of quiet relief wash over him. He'd once feared that Spock's choice of Starfleet doomed his son to a life alone. After learning about Nyota, Sarek analyzed the situation and deemed her a logical choice. Now he felt reassured that his son's choice of bondmate fit all of the illogical, unquantifiable requirements of the hidden places of his child's heart.

...

New Vulcan

Countryside outside the new capital city; late morning

Nyota adjusted the waistband of her long skirt and freed its hem from the buckles of her high desert boots. The loose fabric of her ankle-length skirt had twisted around her legs in a way that made it difficult to give the camel nudges with her knees and feet, blunt physical directions that emphasized her verbal ones. So she'd stopped and dismounted with the help of an aide, first wrapping the fabric of her sleeve over her hand to prevent impolite skin contact. The aide was a well-traveled Vulcan who had transferred his expertise from managing sehlats to Terran mammals and launched a fledgling tourism effort on New Vulcan. Privacy was still valued in Vulcan culture, but so was steady income. Some Vulcans did not object to assisting their few curious, wealthy alien visitors.

She and Spock had arrived only six hours earlier, greeted warmly by Sarek and later with somewhat more reserve by T'Pau, the surviving matriarch of Sarek's family. Nyota's natural curiosity and sense of adventure had made her accept the Vulcan diplomat's invitation for the following morning. Now she felt tired, reddish dust filmed the parts of her not covered by protective gear or clothing, and three of the most well-connected women in what remained of Vulcan society - also riding camels on the trail today - were snubbing her.

It wasn't as though she hadn't tried to be polite. Lifting her hand in the traditional VUlcan greeting, Nyota faced a woman standing near a group of other Vulcan women. "Moi loma (good morning). My name is Nyota Uhura. Wani ra Standard no Yakana ro konusha (I understand Standard and Vulcan). It is agreeable to join this group for this interesting excursion on such a pleasant morning. May I ask your name?"

The woman gave her a look cold enough to chill the morning sunshine, and said, "T'sai T'ober." She turned her back to Nyota and spoke to the other Vulcans.

Nyota tried again with the other three women in the group. A second woman spoke to her but avoided eye contact. A third addressed all of her remarks or questions to Spock or Sarek while looking Nyota up and down as though she were some kind of lab specimen.

T'voria, the fourth Vulcan woman in the group, was friendlier, flushing green with embarrassment at the others' behavior, then asking Nyota about herself and listening with genuine interest to the answers. However, she appeared intimidated by the stares of her friends and gradually fell into a nervous silence.

The Vulcan men in the group greeted Nyota formally upon her arrival and then conversed among themselves.

Though agitated, Spock was silent beside her, constrained by the rules of public conduct. Confronting anyone about their behavior might create problems. Some of the women had diplomatic and financial connections crucial to the rebuilding of Vulcan life, and both Spock and Sarek hesitated to offend them. Instead , both father and son graciously attempted to include Nyota in conversations with the others, and she responded politely and carefully in Vulcan.

Nyota thought of the holo images and African novels she'd saved on her padd, and the textiles she'd brought from her hometown to share with others during her visit. She'd hoped to make new friends. Now it appeared that she was destined for a lonely two weeks. Spock would spend much of his time working with Sarek and the New Vulcan governmental assembly. Although Spock was her friend as well as her lover, Nyota enjoyed women's companionship and the balance it gave to her life. Maybe she'd try again with T'voria. Later tonight, she could try calling Gaila on a semi-private communications channel. If there was one good thing about Vulcan close-mindedness, it was the likelihood that few spoke enough Orion to listen in on her chats with her outspoken friend.

"Ko-fu(daughter) Uhura ?" called Sarek. "Is all well?"

Certainly not; but it would have been impolite to call attention to the other Vulcans' comments, and she didn't dare reply with her true thoughts. Nyota didn't expect him to defend her, but some part of her wished that he or Spock would react.

"Yes, Osu Sarek. I am ready to proceed. Please, everyone, do not wait for me."

She looked at the camel, which appeared about as interested in befriending her as the three Vulcan society ladies.

"I think that I'll walk this part of the trail," she said to Spock. He handed over the reins to the aide, and the couple walked together, side by side, not touching.

"One might say that you have had a full experience of this trail, both on camelback and on foot."

"Yes, Mr. Spock," she said, attempting to lighten the mood by addressing him as she did when they flirted aboard the Enterprise. "I find such a method useful in making observations."

"What have you observed this morning, Miss Uhura?"

She switched to French. "A paradoxical phenomenon: the experience of being within a group, yet excluded," she said softly. Spock's step faltered slightly and he looked at her. "It is an experience familiar to both of us, n'est-ce pas?"

"We are not expected to acknowledge it," he replied in a low voice.

"Oui, je sais, mais...they agree silently among themselves that it is acceptable to exclude me in small ways. Perhaps I should be strong, but I am like anyone else; I feel small pains in difficult social interactions."

"As do I. This is my ninth visit to New Vulcan but some remain suspicious of outsiders, and of me. It is illogical that I would not be accepted here following the destruction of our planet and the reduction of our numbers. Defense analysts have suggested that opportunistic attacks on New Vulcan by Romulans or others remain a possibility. This is a time when we should work together for the good of all."

Our numbers. We. Us.

"I speak in a general sense," Spock reassured her, adding silently, I will not leave the world we two are making together. It is the only place where I am at home.

Sounds of shifting dirt and thumping camel hooves distracted them. Sarek and their host, Sancis had come back to check on them.

...

Nine Standard months earlier

A small city in the United States of Africa; an early evening in July, Standard time

Utendaji International Preparatory Academy Class Reunion Party

"It's not like real sex, is it?"

"Huh?" It was a terribly inarticulate response for a Communications Officer, but Nyota was so stunned by the invasive question that she couldn't form words.

"Sex with that alien, the Vulcan. You might as well do it with an animal! I know he's half-human but he doesn't look it. I heard about him and thought he'd be more man-like, but he looks like a demon in the pictures."

"How dare you? Spock is as human as you, probably more. He's a decent, honorable person - a good man - " Nyota pushed herself away from the table. The legs of her chair scraped loudly enough to be heard over the volume of the music in the hall where her high school reunion was being held. Furious, Nyota leaned over the table, eyes narrowed. "Is it fashionable to be prejudiced against aliens in this town now? You don't even know him. Why do you think I'd tell you anything about my life anyway?"

She didn't mean to do it, but her fingers moved swiftly toward a half-full glass. Reason prevailed. Instead of hurling it across the table at the sneering woman or throwing its contents into her face, Nyota knocked the glass over. Its alcoholic contents spread a dark stain over the tablecloth as she turned and left the banquet hall, leaving a trail of murmurs behind her.

Drunkenness wasn't behind the ugly words. Many whispered the same things, assuming that Nyota did not know that gossip about her Vulcan lover preceded her visits home. She hadn't really wanted to attend the school reunion anyway; she'd been unpopular and preferred to keep up with a few close friends and teachers on her own.

Fingers clasped her shoulder as she strode through the lobby and towards the front doors.

"Wait, Nyota. Remember what Mr. Kamya used to tell us? 'Great minds discuss ideas and solutions; small minds discuss people', or something like that," a gentle voice said. Her friends Chinedu and Adilah stepped in front of her, looking worried.

"It was so low, what she said," Nyota fumed.

"Yes. But you know that she has always been cruel. We had good reasons for nicknaming her 'Heart-Trouble'."

Nyota sighed. "She hasn't grown up much. Maybe I haven't either; I shouldn't have allowed myself to get so angry. I'm glad that Spock had to remain on duty and couldn't join me on this visit home - then we'd both be having a bad time at this party."

"Don't let it hurt you," Adilah said, patting her arm. "Are you all right? Don't leave the party yet. Stay close to us, we won't let her near you."

"Yes, come sit with us and talk about something else," Chinedu urged her. " We so seldom see each other, Nyota. Let's talk about what makes us happy. Tell us about your Spock and your adventures in Starfleet, and I will show you some new holos of my children, the adorable mischief makers. Is that a fair trade?"

...

New Vulcan

Countryside outside the new capital city; late morning

Unusually expressive for a Vulcan, Sancis almost smiled at Nyota. "T'sai Uhura, I will trade camels with you if yours is misbehaving. They are illogical, almost emotional creatures. Or perhaps the countryside of New Vulcan is better seen on foot?"

Responding to the diplomat's open, friendly manner, Nyota replied, "Osu Sancis, I think that both high and low views of New Vulcan are fascinating. You are correct; walking is a good way for me to appreciate the local plants, animals, and geological features."

"Please request my assistance immediately if you become tired," Sarek said. "Spock, I trust that you will take care of her?"

"Of course, father. You may always expect me to do my best." Spock preferred that Sarek did not continually remind him of things even a young man would know. It would have been agreeable to have his father treat him more like an adult during these visits. "I hope that we have not disrupted the progress of the rest of the group."

Like his son, Sarek had observed the Vulcan women's treatment of Nyota. "Apparently they prefer to set their own pace," he said dryly.

"We have nearly arrived at our destination," Sancis said, extending a hand - Vulcans did not aggressively point fingers - towards an area where the ground sloped down. "It is a most agreeable feature of this region. T'sai Uhura, allow me to guide you and Spock there myself." He dismounted from his camel with surprising agility and led them towards the head of the group, talking all the while.

"Special treatment for the human visitor," one woman muttered as the couple passed her.

Nyota fought back a purely childish impulse to turn around and raise a finger in a gesture understood on all planets.

Sancis paused at the top of the ridge.

"Oh, it's beautiful!" Nyota gasped. A gleaming expanse of water cut through the valley below the ridge where they stood. Plants and trees grew along the banks of the river in clusters, then gave way to an expanse of small stones.

Lighting panels, benches, and a solar-powered information kiosk were visible signs of efforts to shape the land and make it like a park. In keeping with Vulcan unfamiliarity with water, the benches were set far away from the shore. The place looked unfinished, half wild. Housing and public buildings had higher priority on New Vulcan. Caves gaped open in several places along the river's banks; some appeared to have been reinforced by stone or metal beams.

The riders dismounted and the group approached the water's edge. Giving in to her tourist impulses, Nyota pulled her camera and communicator from the Starfleet utility belt she'd fastened over her skirt. Unfashionable, perhaps, but a handbag just didn't accessorize well with this terrain. She began to record images and sounds with both of them.

Musical sounds of water tumbling over stones were enough to soothe anyone, and the tension among the group soon disappeared. Sancis spoke to Nyota and a few of them men, providing a quick geological profile of the valley. Camels stretched out their long necks and legs, drinking. Spock and Sarek stood talking quietly and Nyota decided not to disturb them, chatting to Sancis instead. Eventually the calm beauty of the place put him in a meditative mood, and he fell quiet, gazing at the water.

Stones clinked together. Nyota turned around to face T'voria, the Vulcan woman who had been awkward, but open.

"T'sai Uhura. May I speak with you?" the Vulcan woman asked softly. A raised scar on one side of her face looked faintly lime green against her darker green blush.

"Please, call me Nyota. Would you like to walk along the water, this way?"

Silence stretched between the two women as they walked, until T'voria spoke hesitantly.

"Please forgive me for my rudeness earlier. I am a married woman, and should be too mature to allow the prejudices of others to influence me. As a mother, I ought to have more understanding of empathy. My preference is to make you welcome among us."

"Thank you. I understand that many Vulcans aren't accustomed to the presence of humans," Nyota said diplomatically.

"Allow me to disagree. Before the loss of our home, those three traveled off-planet, and were invited to formal receptions, and parliamentary dinners." A slight bitterness in the woman's tone hinted that she herself had not been invited to such events.

"They met humans and many other races. Their husbands worked often with Osu Sarek. Lack of exposure is not the problem." She looked at Nyota. "You are truly bonded to Osu Spock, are you not? You are part of our history now and we cannot change this. Instead we should attempt to learn about you."

"I appreciate your perspective. It's only right to return your kindness; may I ask you about yourself? If it isn't too painful, too personal...what was your life like on Vulcan?"

T'voria moved her shoulders and head very slightly, in the equivalent of a Vulcan shrug. "My life there centered on my home. I was educated at a middle-level academy and learned to speak Standard and a few trade languages. I dreamed of learning more and perhaps working at the Embassy, or as a teacher, but my family found an advantageous match for me when I was young. I had this," she touched the scar on her face, " and although my family was financially comfortable we were not wealthy. My analysis of my situation at the time made me believe that I could not refuse. My bondmate is a diligent worker and we have two children. I am very attached to them. We only escaped because a trade mission allowed us to travel and live off-planet as a family. I have wealth now, and political connections, but I lost everyone on Vulcan," she said, her voice quivering.

"How terrible!" Unconsciously, Nyota reached out to touch T'voria's arm, but stopped herself. "T'voria, I grieve with thee. I'm sorry that you lost so many loved ones."

"I have accepted my inability to influence or avert the disaster. I must ask you to excuse me again for such an emotional display."

Nyota wished that she'd just hugged T'voria anyway. "There's no need to apologize for your emotional reaction to such a tragedy."

"But we do not know each other."

"Why should that matter? Anyway, as a Communications Officer, I frequently deal with emotions."

"I am not a proper Vulcan woman sometimes. I have difficulty controlling my...feelings. In school the others teased me, saying that I must have slipped through a time warp from the Pre-Surakian period because my behavior was so emotional and uncivilized. When I cried or became excited they called me a savage."

Nyota couldn't prevent a wry smile from rising to her lips. "Empathy and emotions are important elements of civilization, in my opinion." She looked over at T'voria, but the woman had closed herself off, her posture and words stiff and formal once more.

"If it is agreeable to you, I would like to extend an invitation. My bondmate works long hours and is often away from home. I would like to invite you to take a walk through our capital city. I have quickly become acquainted with it as it develops; it is a most unusual experience, observing streets and neighborhoods being established from...'the ground up', as the Earth saying goes. I would show you the neighborhoods and buildings I consider particularly interesting."

"That's very kind of you, I'd like that. When -"

A series of loud, percussive noises cut through the air. Whirling around, Nyota saw the Vulcans running toward the open mouths of caves along the river bank.

T'voria gasped and seized Nyota's sleeve. "Run!" Although shorter than Nyota, she was strong, and Nyota stumbled and slid on the shifting rocks as the other woman all but dragged her toward the dark mouth of a cave.

Spock! Her startled thoughts raced toward him across the bond.

Nyota, go! Take cover!

"What is it?" Nyota shouted, looking around. Spock and the other Vulcans also ran for a cave, many meters away.

"Emergency alert, it could be anything! Romulans, or -" T'voria pulled Nyota inside the cave. It was dark and smelled of unfamiliar minerals. The other Vulcan women stood inside the small space, looking out towards the light. Everyone was forced to stand close to each other, their limbs held stiffly to avoid skin contact. Whether they still wished to avoid eye contact or not, Nyota did not care; her Starfleet training kicked in, and she looked at each woman, checking to see if anyone appeared to be injured or distressed. The siren continued to sound its alarm, then stopped.

"Now we must wait for the all-clear signal," explained T'voria.

"Have there actually been any undocumented Romulan attacks on New Vulcan?" Nyota asked. Her research had indicated nothing of the kind, but who knew what the locals had observed?

"T'voria is hardly an expert on military intelligence," grumbled one of the women.

Nyota ignored her. "How about any other emergency situations? How often does that siren sound, and why?"

T'voria's eyes flicked toward the other woman in annoyance, but she answered, "No, there have been no actual Romulan attacks yet. A different siren is used to warn us of sandstorms. This siren warns us of external attacks or unidentifiable phenomena."

Anything could happen. Stifling her fears, Nyota opened her bond with Spock, sent him a feeling of pure love, felt his own love rushing back, and closed the bond, readying herself for action.

When she returned her attention to the women, they stared back at her as though they knew precisely what she'd just done. Telepathy seemed to be at work although none of them touched her. Involuntarily, Nyota pulled her arms closer to her sides, brushing against her utility belt.

Her arm touched her phaser.

Why not? I'm already unpopular around here. Might as well become even more unpopular and give us a fighting chance.

Nyota withdrew the weapon and faced the open mouth of the cave. Behind her, the women's voices rose in excitement.

... ... ... ... ...

...

Nyota cocked her phaser to its ready state and braced herself just inside the arched doorway. A lengthy silence stretched from several seconds to a few minutes; only nervous inhalations were audible.

Silver flashed across the bit of sky that was visible through the cave opening, and everyone flinched. The aircraft moved back into view, moving more slowly this time. The side of the craft, which Nyota now recognized as a low-altitude surveillance ship, was emblazoned with the Vulcan IDIC symbol. The aircraft crossed the river, reflected in its gleaming waters, made a few more passes over the valley, and flew out of sight. Behind her, Nyota heard exhalations of apparent relief.

A second percussive alarm sounded, followed by an amplified voice declaring, "All clear. Citizens, return to your business."

Nyota, still apprehensive, changed her phaser to a standby setting that kept it ready for quick use but impossible to fire accidentally. The recorded message repeated itself, and the Vulcan women leaned forward, staring while she handled the weapon.

"You really do know how to use that weapon, don't you?" T'ober asked, distaste evident on her face.

Avoiding the temptation to point out that the answer was both obvious and logical, Nyota replied, "Starfleet wouldn't have permitted me to graduate if I didn't." She'd also learned how to handle a rifle while visiting her cousins' farm in New Kenya, but these society ladies seemed shocked enough by Starfleet training; if she mentioned the rifle they'd probably petition to have her expelled from the planet.

"Do you know how to fight with your hands?" inquired another.

"Yes. Martial arts training, as well as hand-to-hand combat and disarming exercises were mandatory at Starfleet Academy."

"Do you know how to kill?"

Any answer Nyota gave would be the wrong one. "I have...no comment on the matter."

T'ober was unwilling to let the subject go. "Fighting and killing are hardly the sort of things that a lady bonded to a diplomatic representative would be expected to know."

"Then it is fortunate that my bondmate does not offically represent you in a diplomatic capacity, isn't it?" Nyota's voice was sharp, but she casually lifted one shoulder in the hint of a shrug. "I did not know how to fight at all before Starfleet. I was raised to be a lady, within a peaceful household headed by parents who valued education, empathy, and hospitality to both friends and strangers." Her gaze swept the circle of curious faces. Suddenly she no longer cared what anyone thought. "I would have attempted to defend all of us, despite the dislike some of you obviously have for me. It would be unethical if I did not at least try to help all of us. "

Nyota holstered her phaser at her hip and adjusted her clothing in the sudden quiet. "All clear, ladies," she said, and walked out into the afternoon sunlight.

...

Excitement among Vulcans was a rare and fascinating sight. Some of the Vulcan men paced back and forth, speaking urgently into communicators or with each other. The camels were resisting the efforts of their handler and his assistant to round them up. Everyone paused to look up at the sky as another patrol craft flew overhead.

Spock hurried over to Nyota and clasped her shoulders in full view of the others, opening their mental bond to ask: Are you well?

She touched the side of his face. Yes, though I did consider the possibility of a cave-in. She let him know that she'd unholstered her phaser; his eyes swept down to her utility belt, then back up to her face as she revealed what the women had said to her. Annoyance, and some hint of his personal hurt. Then he controlled his response, saying, wemustrejointhegroup, and closed the bond.

Involved with each other, neither Spock nor Nyota overheard Sarek speaking to T'ober.

"Rather than lodging a complaint with me regarding Miss Uhura carrying a phaser, it might be worthwhile to thank her for being generous enough to attempt to defend people who were impolite to her today. I saw you refuse Nyota's attempt to greet you. Despite this, she was willing to protect you. May I recommend that you devote some time in meditation to processing this lapse in logic?"

"Sarek, I do not think that you understand my reasoning."

"I do not believe that her phaser is the problem here. I observe much, T'sai. Human and other visitors are to be made welcome on New Vulcan; we are still part of the Federation. Please avoid repeating such behavior." T'ober glared at him and walked stiffly away to join her husband.

Worried, Sarek sought Nyota's attention; he found her several feet away from the group with his son, apparently communicating telepathically through discreet touches.

His son stood apart, again. Spock had real friends on the Enterprise, Sarek knew, and among Amanda's and Nyota's families. Many among the diplomatic corps admired both father and son, but Sarek wondered if any residents of New Vulcan, other than T'Pau of course, loved Spock enough to be called a friend.

Sarek approached the couple, speaking quietly and urgently. "Nyota, are you well?" She assured him that she was.

"An unidentified ship was observed leaving New Vulcan, without proper navigational clearance," Sarek explained. "Our group will return at once to the capital. Two land shuttles have been summoned to take us back."

...

The city was in an uproar; in addition to the mysterious ship leaving Vulcan airspace, planetary security was overextended with efforts to welcome and protect an ambassador from the planet Coridia and his large staff. Coridia, a large planet gifted with a vast supply of dilithium crystals, was applying for Federation status. The crystals would offered to Federation members in trade for assistance with planetary defense. The Coridians had requested a meeting with Vulcans, Terrans, Tellarites, and other Federation members in order to gather support for their admission. The selection of New Vulcan as a conference location was widely interpreted as an effort to gain allies who might better understand what it was like to have one's planet under threat.

Spock and Sarek left to join a security debriefing at the Parliamentary Building almost immediately upon their return to the city, and Nyota was escorted back to Sarek's diplomatic manor by the shuttle driver.

T'keila, the young Vulcan woman who worked for the Vulcan priestess, philosopher, and judge T'Pau, stood waiting for Nyota in the foyer of Sarek's home. Gossip moved at lightspeed on New Vulcan.

Cautiously, Nyota greeted the young Vulcan woman, following it with, "I suppose T'sai T'Pau has already heard about my phaser and my plain speaking, and wants to give me her perspective on it."

"Sanoi, T'sai Uhura, believe me, I find it disagreeable to lead you into conflict," T'keila replied earnestly, speaking in Standard. "You are correct. T'sai T'Pau requests your presence immediately in her quarters. Please follow me."

Appreciative of the woman's honesty, Nyota gave T'keila a small smile and they walked side by side across the road and into T'Pau's house. "I know that you are only trying to perform your duties properly and efficiently. I'm not upset with you personally. You're very professional; you'd probably get hired immediately for a similar job in San Francisco or New Nairobi."

The young woman blinked at Nyota.

"Never mind, honey. I'm not saying that you should leave New Vulcan; I'm sure that opportunities abound here. I'm just paying you a compliment. You were so nice and welcoming when I arrived last night, and your Standard is excellent. You're obviously talented and I hope that you find what you want in your new life here, whatever it may be."

"I believe that I understand now. Thank you, Osasu Uhura."

"What are your interests? Is it acceptable if I ask you about yourself?"

"It is not only acceptable, but agreeable."

Their conversation distracted both pleasantly until they stood, all too soon, in front of the double doors leading to T'Pau's private receiving room. T'keila opened the doors, let Nyota inside, and closed them behind her, whispering "Best wishes," leaving Nyota alone with T'Pau, surely one of the most formidable women in the galaxy.

Among the relatively few Vulcan elders to escape Vulcan's destruction, T'Pau was a ferociously intelligent, self-directed woman, one of the only beings to have turned down the offer of a seat on the Federation Council. Her reputation for applying rigid logic to all situations preceded her. T'Pau maintained an oddly fond relationship with Sarek, offering him counsel in diplomatic affairs and occasionally inquiring about Spock's whereabouts and activities.

Upon their arrival the night before, Nyota had greeted the T'Pau with the greatest respect and deference, speaking formal High Vulcan and saying little afterward. T'Pau had been stiffly polite in return, and the encounter had been mercifully short.

Blood rushed in her ears as Nyota raised one hand in greeting and spoke, her heart pounding.

"Moi kima (good afternoon), la-T'sai (honorable Lady) T'Pau."

"Moi kima, T'sai Uhura. You are an intelligent being, though a recklessly illogical one. I am sure that you already know why I have summoned you here."

"Yes. May I request your permission to tell you my personal version of the story? I promise to give you an accurate and truthful account, and request that you draw your own conclusions."

T'Pau's face was immobile; although her eyes barely moved, the matriarch seemed to be looking Nyota up and down and staring at the phaser on her belt. Nyota had considered the utility belt and with its phaser holster to be discreet. Now it seemed to make her entire self conspicuous, as though she were marching down a street carrying a sign mocking Surak's nonviolent teachings.

After taking a deep breath, she gave her account of the incident; she did not censor what she had said or try to make it sound more polite.

"I regret speaking harshly; I didn't intend to be rude to those ladies, and I would have attempted to defend or assist all of us if we had been attacked or injured, without regard to my personal feelings about how they treated me. I do not want to see the people of New Vulcan suffer, but I dislike being forced into conflict with people I have barely met."

"The lady spoke honestly; carrying weapons is not...was not customary for Vulcan women among certain upper classes."

Nyota attempted to keep the frown away from her face. According to the Vulcan history she'd read, T'Pau herself had been involved in tense, almost devious military planning and diplomatic efforts years before; perhaps the difference was that she'd allowed others to do the actual fighting.

"I only wore my phaser with my civilian clothes today because I toured a rural, undeveloped location with Sarek and Spock this morning. I thought that we might encounter hostile creatures, falling rocks, and number of hazards. If you prefer, la-T'sai T'Pau, I will not carry it again during my visit."

"Weaponry may not be improper for an off-worlder or non-Vulcan. I will meditate upon it and make my decision. You may leave now."

Frustrated, Nyota wished that she could sit down for a casual conversation with T'Pau. Why did the woman resist her attempts to get to know her?

"May I invite you to join me for tea and perhaps conversation later? There is much I would like to know of New Vulcan and I would appreciate the opportunity to speak with someone as wise and profoundly knowledgeable as yourself."

T'Pau sat very still, not blinking. "I may consider it. Formulate a list of questions that you wish to ask me. I devote much of my personal time to mediation and preservation of Vulcan culture. I will have little time to spare for unstructured discussions. Consult my dvinsu, T'keila to arrange a time."

If the woman had simply slapped her, Nyota thought, it might have hurt a little bit less. "I understand. I will leave you now. "

"You will not; I have not excused you. I have an additional question for you."

"Yes, la-T'sai?"

"A member of housekeeping staff informed me that you have brought a red dress in your baggage."

A headache began to form in Nyota's right temple. "That is true. I was informed that I would attend receptions, parties, and other events during the visit. I brought formal gowns to wear."

"Is this garment modest?"

"It has a floor-length skirt and shoulder straps. You cannot see very much of my chest, as the bodice is high."

"Yet it is red."

"Yes. Starfleet red, like the uniform I customarily wear."

"You will draw attention to yourself."

"That was not my intention, T'sai T'Pau. I have worn the dress on previous occasions and it has never drawn any negative reactions. It is comfortable and suitable for warm climates." The dress was also one of Spock's favorites, though this was hardly the time to mention it; cut high in the front and dipping low in the back, it made Nyota feel confident and attractive.

"It is my opinion that you would do well to wear something else."

Feeling angry now, Nyota took a deep breath and looked at the floor. T'Pau would not accept her offer of sitting together as equals over tea; she preferred to lecture her as though she were a teenager attending her first party.

"I will take your advice into consideration. Thank you, la-T'sai," she said, and backed out of the room.

How could she possibly manage for two weeks on this planet?

Maybe her dress, which would have not seemed unusual on Earth was indeed inappropriate. Nyota thought of T'voria, the friendly Vulcan woman. Perhaps she might be willing to provide clothing advice where T'Pau would not. Nyota returned to her quarters, planning to enlist T'keila's assistance in contacting the woman who might become one of her few friends on this beautiful, troubling planet.

...

Fighting with Spock was awful. Not simply because she loved him, but because fights with Spock differed from arguments. Arguments could involve logic, data, and information seeking to support a particular line of reasoning. Spock's dry sense of humor often shone through during arguments and made her laugh. Fights followed uncertain, unsettling paths. Logic was cast aside in favor of resentment, old hurts, and stubbornness. Spock did not always say sensible things when they fought; she could sense his old feelings of rejection, loneliness, and insecurity rising to the surface, and he would sometimes say hurtful things as he tried to protect himself from being rejected or shut out as he had during his childhood.

The amount of energy and time it took to reassure him that he was cherished and accepted exhausted her sometimes. To make things worse, as a scientist and a man who was still relatively young, Spock sometimes refused to admit that he could make mistakes.

"Maybe as a human I am naive, but I expected that IDIC would be more...part of personal interactions here. Infinite diversity in infinite combination...you and Sarek believe in it, your behavior shows it. I wanted to get to know some other women here, find out what we have in common and how our lives are different. I'm not saying that sharing a gender equals instant friends, but except for T'voria, those women made their dislike of me very clear. I'd like to know what sort of bad reputation preceded me."

"My reputation, not yours. My half-human reputation."

"Ashalik Spock, I know how difficult social acceptance was for you during your childhood...but why should they reject you now? With so much to be gained from accepting others and working together? Honestly, I find it baffling. The atmosphere during today's outing made me uncomfortable. Honestly, I wished that you and Sarek would speak up, defend me."

"Nyota! You know that I could not speak to a lady of the Vulcan diplomatic classes so directly."

"Yeah? It might teach those narrow-minded snobs some good. I tried not to react to them, but one word from you, just one, and they might have stopped. Did you look at the holo with the calendar of our social engagements during our visit here? We're probably going to see those women again, Spock, at tomorrow night's reception, concerts, poetry readings, building tours. Are you going to speak up then?"

He frowned. "I have already said that I prefer not to violate Vulcan social customs. If you are to function effectively as my bondmate, it is necessary that you reacquaint yourself with the local manners and patterns of behavior, which I know that you have already studied in detail. Do you wish me to come to your rescue like a prince in some ancient folktale?"

Nyota stared at him. "If? If I am to function effectively as your bondmate?" She felt a pain in her chest, and she unconsciously pressed a hand to her heart in a protective gesture.

"Maybe you forget, Mister, but I can rescue myself. I prepared to defend myself and the others quite well when that siren went off, and none of us knew what dangers lay outside that cave," she said shakily. "When I said you didn't defend me, all I meant was that I need to know you care. Maybe that means breaking the social code sometimes. I guess diplomacy matters more than this misguided woman who thinks that you really want her for your bondmate."

Spock turned to face her, his eyes wide, and facial expression softening as he realized how she interpreted his words. "Nyota, I ask your pardon. I did not realize - I thought that you would understand why I remained silent about the way they insulted both of us. It was my expectation that we would face such difficulties together, one giving strength to the other. Do not misinterpret my behavior as a lack of regard for you."

"Regard?" her voice was icy with sarcasm.

Why did human women desire such frequent repetitions of those three short words? "Your constant need for romantic reassurance can be somewhat trying. Diplomatic protocol must take precedence during our public appearances here on New Vulcan -"

Spock ducked as the pillow came flying toward his head, managing to catch it by one corner. He didn't fear the soft missile, but the wave of anger flowing from her across their mental bond put him on edge.

"Sleep on the balcony, Spock. Or find a spare bedroom someplace in this big, lonely mansion, because you sure aren't sleeping with me tonight."

Too late, he realized that his own behavior and words had been illogical within the context of their relationship. "Sanoi, ashayam, listen to me, I apologize -"

Her long fingers pressed flat against his chest, and he was too surprised to resist as she pushed him through the door and secured the latch.

Astounded, Spock stood in the corridor that connected their quarters to the rest of the house, attempting to order his whirling thoughts and emotions. There was a second entryway to their quarters. It would have been easy for him to climb the safety ladder up to their private roof garden and enter their bedroom. However, if he did, it would not be with Nyota's consent. He wanted to avoid the appearance of aggression or of any further disregard for her feelings. He knocked on the door, but there was no response. He pressed one ear against the composite surface, but the soundproofing revealed nothing. He tried their mental bond, but only received the impression of tears and a sense of abandonment before she firmly closed herself off from him.

...this misguided woman who thinks that you really want her for your bondmate.

Scientists did not always properly interpret data, even when clearly presented. Spock groaned as he finally understood.

No. He wanted no other bondmate or lover. Apparently she believed that his passive behavior hid a wish to be separated from her and to nullify their bond; perhaps she even believed that he toyed with her and did not take her feelings seriously. It was confusing, and Spock disliked confusion.

It was essential that this conflict be resolved. Spock pressed his palm against the communication panel next to the door, and spoke when it recognized his imprint. "Nyota, please. We must discuss this and reach a conclusion." Mindful of the staff, he lowered his voice and switched to the casual, flirtatious French they'd spoken with each other earlier in the day, hoping to appeal to her with references to romantic archetypes. "Please, mon coeur, open the door, I beg you."

Silence.

He tried again, in Vulcan and Standard, no to no avail. What had he done? Perhaps he could walk the corridors and clear his thoughts, calm his rising anxiety. Walking meditation worked for full humans; he would attempt to make it work for him.

...

Sarek had retired to his own quarters and was meditating, which was regrettable; his wisdom and experience with human women might prove valuable. Spock thought of interrupting him, and hesitated, as he often caught himself doing before speaking of personal matters with his father. The two of them had successfully begun to rebuild their relationship, but awkwardness still prevailed at times. Would Sarek scold him for inadvertently creating a scene within his household? Gossip about discord under Sarek's roof would make the rest of their visit difficult, if not outright miserable.

After opening a few doors Spock found a small, private office equipped with communications equipment, soundproofing, and a small bathroom. Good enough a place to spend the night as any, he decided. A firepot would have aided him in calming mediation, but his own was locked away with Nyota and her injured feelings.

Placing the pillow beneath his head, Spock stretched out on the office floor. Newly familiar stars gleamed through the open window.

The floor was not comfortable; the cool of the evening seeped up from the tiles and through the carpet. Like all Vulcans, he knew that he could focus his thoughts and raise his body temperature. The process would make him warm enough to sleep through the night.

Spock knew what he really wanted. He wanted Nyota nestled close to him, his arm loosely over her waist. He would have been equally pleased to have her stretched out beside him, their limbs moving and touching and tangling through the night. He wanted her curled up in the position she called "spoons" or resting her head on his chest or shoulder or at least in the same room with him so that he could hear her breathing and know that she was well.

Restless, he turned on his side and glanced at the communications equipment.

Jim Kirk had sexual and romantic experience with many human - and non-human - beings, and had experienced romantic conflict with several, if not all, of them. Perhaps it was illogical to ask Jim for advice; although obviously skilled in flirtation and courtship, Jim appeared to have difficulty maintaining consistent relationships with sexual partners due to his lack of emotional engagement. On more than one occasion Spock had overheard Jim apologize to a newly abandoned sexual partner. The apologies were artfully worded, occasionally verging on poetry. However, based upon Spock's observations, the apologies often functioned as escape routes for Jim Kirk, and did not sufficiently resolve conflict.

Dr. McCoy might be a better source of advice. Although highly emotional, the man's intelligence went beyond academics to an understanding of human behavior gained through life experience and medical practice. Starfleet medical training also required intensive psychological study and training. McCoy was kind to Nyota and other women on the Enterprise; indeed, Nyota had said that she considered him a true friend. In addition, personal experience with divorce might have taught McCoy much about effective conflict resolution between bondmates. Yes, he would attempt to contact the Doctor and request advice as to how to proceed.

...

"Say what now?"

Leonard McCoy wondered if his insomniac nights were causing him to hallucinate. He pushed the half-full shot glass of whiskey away and discreetly pinched himself beneath the desk where his communications screen sat.

It hurt. Commander Spock really was staring at him from the screen, awaiting an answer to his request for romantic advice.

"Shall I rephrase my request for the sake of clarity, Doctor?" Spock looked uncomfortable. "I spoke hastily to Lieutenant Uhura this evening, saying that adhering to customs of diplomacy and manners held more importance than providing her with emotional reassurance. Certain implications and insulting remarks were made by women she had hoped to befriend. I expected her to ignore those remarks, and I did not defend her. To the contrary, I later told her that I expected her to ignore the remarks as a show of strength and willingness to follow local custom. Upon analysis, I now believe that my response to her was incorrect."

McCoy rolled his eyes. "You don't know the half of it, Spock."

"Indeed, I did not know at the time. The Lieutenant expressed her disagreement and as a result, I am spending the night on the floor of an office in Sarek's diplomatic manor...Doctor, your reaction puzzles me; I believe that laughter is considered an unkind response to situations such as my current one."

"Pardon me, Spock, I'm not laughing at you. It's just that...if there were such a thing as a universal situation, you're right smack dab in the middle of it."

"Leonard, I do not understand."

"Oh, you will, bless your heart. Every man who loves women has to experience this at one time or another. Listen up now, Spock. Here's what you might could do to make her like you again..."

"Computer, open private channel." Nyota entered Gaila's contact information, then sat waiting for the connection to complete. Her long fingers anxiously twisted together. "Please be home, please be home - alone this time," she whispered.

...

Cool night air blew across Sarek's bed, shocking him awake. He'd completed his meditation early, then lain down for a night of true sleep. He was tired out by the energy expended in responding to the emergency sighting of the mystery spacecraft. Equally tiring was the expense of emotional energy expended in showing his displeasure at the way his son and Nyota were mistreated by hypocritical people who usually tried to gain his favor in exchange for political and social influence.

Sarek sat up and saw that the two long doors leading to the balcony were open, swinging back and forth as though someone had pushed them. Groggy, he stared into the corners of the room; unable to dispel the eerie sense that someone had been near him and departed hastily. His burly valet had asked Sarek to give up his habit of leaving the balcony doors unlocked. Crime was rare on New Vulcan, and Sarek had dismissed the man's worries.

Now, with his skin prickling, he wondered if he'd been wrong. Sarek sensed a deep throbbing in his left arm and rubbed it, then concentrated on finding the source of the pain and making it go away. The pain did not ease quickly; it was several minutes before he was able to dull its edge. Age or stress, probably. Perhaps he could make time for medical treatment later that week. Vulcan doctors were scarce since the destruction, but if none were available, the Federation could refer him to a specialist in xenobiology.

He needed rest; his duties required him to interact with offworlders from across the Federation tomorrow. Sarek closed the doors, latching them securely this time.

...

"I'm sorry to bother you like this, Gaila - it's just that...I have to talk to someone, and it can't be Spock." Tears finally broke through her determined reserve, and she wiped them away.

Clad in her duty uniform, Gaila stretched forward from her crosslegged position and pressed a hand against the screen. "Aw, sweetie, it must be really terrible. What happened? Did you two fight?"

"Yes." Nyota summarized the eventful day, ending with their argument. "I can't seem to get along with anyone here except one nice woman. I'm not exactly being made welcome on New Vulcan; not outside Sarek's house, anyway."

"Shame on them, those - " Gaila uttered a colorful Orion curse word which simultaneously referred to unwashed body parts and snobbery. It was a word Nyota had enjoyed learning from her friend, as it had been carefully excluded from official Orion language study curriculum materials. Hearing Gaila pronounce the word clearly and energetically now, Nyota gave a hiccuping laugh and got her tears under control.

"...so now I'm not sure what the future holds for us. I could live here and have two or three friends, I guess, and watch our children be snubbed by other children. Of course, I could do that very same thing on earth, come to think of it. Maybe we'll find somewhere different to live during part of each year. I don't want him to think I am avoiding Vulcan culture."

"Think about this," Gaila replied. "How much of an effort has he made to learn your culture, to live with it?"

"He has reciprocated; we wouldn't be together now if he hadn't." Nyota described Spock's politeness during visits home with her, his interactions with her neighbors, the quiet friendship he'd established with her father and mother, the admiration he'd expressed for the calmly welcoming atmosphere in the Uhura household. He had even let her mother and Auntie 'Chelle be physically affectionate with him, saying nothing while they clasped his hands and patted his shoulders; Nyota suspected that he secretly enjoyed the attention.

"Not bad," Gaila said. "You're lucky. You've got a nice family. I'll never forget how good they were to me. Maybe that's one place you could spend your time, when you're not aboard a ship. Both of you could live and work anywhere on Earth."

"I don't know what's best."

Gaila shrugged. "You don't have to decide now. You've got three years of the mission left."

"Now I just have to survive New Vulcan's social scene for two weeks. I haven't been this stressed since Academy days."

"Hold your head high, pretty lady. You've got more to give the known universe than gossip and a bad attitude. They don't all hate you. Go find some unfashionable commoners and hang out with them instead."

"I may just do that," Nyota laughed. "I think you'd like one thing about New Vulcan for sure, gorgeous," she teased. "I've seen some handsome Vulcan men. Not that I want any Vulcans but my own, but I did notice."

"Ha! Find me one who likes emotions and a little bit of kink, and I'm in!"

"I accept the challenge. One emotional, mildly kinky Vulcan for Gaila. It's going on my to-do list for New Vulcan, along with 'pray for patience', 'remain diplomatic', and 'avoid kicking somebody's ass'. Don't look at me like that, I'm kidding."

"They are getting to you. They hurt you."

"It doesn't hurt now as much as it did at the reception. I've dealt with it."

A chime sounded from Gaila's end of the connection. "Sorry, I've got to go back on duty. Feel better, make up, make love, move on."

"Thanks, Gaila. I want to hear about your happy love life next time."

"Um, things have changed. Later." Gaila signed off.

...

The dvinsu, a young valet-in-training, gaped openmouthed at Spock stretched out on the office floor, then quickly erased all emotion from his face. "May I assist you with anything, Osu Spock?"

Unfolding his tall frame from his sleeping position on the carpet, Spock rose to his feet. "Perhaps you could advise me as to where I might find a clean shirt in my size? I am temporarily unable to retrieve my own from my quarters."

"I will ask the head valet. In the meantime, may I direct you to a cleansing room for your convenience?"

"Yes. Thank you." Spock knew that the young valet - a teenager, really - was brimming over with curiosity, wondering why bondmates would not sleep together. The young man would understand when he grew a bit older, Spock thought with bitter amusement; maybe he'd be better than Spock at responding to a bondmate's needs.

Dr. McCoy, despite his overly emotional nature and tendency to shout, had been insightful and sympathetic. Spock admitted that McCoy's advice was somewhat logical. Now he must apply the advice properly and produce the desired results.

...

The borrowed shirt was slightly too big in the shoulders, having been custom made for the former wrestler who now served as Sarek's valet. However, it was clean, and so conservatively styled that it would draw little attention. Nervously, Spock paused outside the arched opening leading to the dining room; what would he say to Nyota if she were already there? Their bond had remained closed since last night, he could not calm himself enough to focus and sense where she was. He entered, and saw his father seated with a bowl of porridge. Dishes of fruit and a teapot sat on the table; Spock was reminded again of another thing he and his father had in common, a preference for a simple breakfast.

He greeted Sarek and sat down. Sarek finished eating and moved on to his tea. Finally, Spock broke the silence.

"Has Nyota already eaten?"

Sarek looked at him oddly. "She did not tell you? I spoke with her in the courtyard this morning: I apologized for her mistreatment yesterday and told her that I defended her, though after the fact. After graciously accepting my apology Nyota ate an early meal alone, and then left the house for a walk. I insisted that one of my staff accompany her."

"I see." Looking up from his bowl, Spock met his father's inquisitive gaze. He decided to confess.

"We did not sleep in the same room last night. Before retiring, we had a conversation about yesterday's events. Nyota...thought and felt that I did not provide sufficient social and emotional support in response to the way some of the ladies treated her. I stated that I thought it important to ignore the treatment in favor of maintaining positive diplomatic relations and following non-confrontational Vulcan behavior patterns. Nyota disagreed, and became so angry with me that she requested I sleep elsewhere."

Sarek stared at his son. "Are you unaware of all that Nyota experienced yesterday? Consider her perspective. Following her experience of being shunned, she experienced the stress of a security alert on a planet where she had been for less than twenty-four Standard hours. Next, she was separated from you when the two of us were called into a planetary security meeting. It is my understanding that she was called into a private audience with T'Pau immediately upon her return to this house. I doubt that it was a cheerful chat," Sarek added in an almost sarcastic tone of voice.

"Now you tell me that you engaged in a condescending argument with your bondmate at the end of what must have been a physically and emotionally demanding day for any woman, human or otherwise. Are you surprised by her refusal to allow you to share your sleeping quarters? Her actions do possess a certain type of logic, my son."

"It all seems quite clear now, father," sighed Spock. His shoulders slumped. "My mistakes were many; believe me, I never intended to hurt her emotionally, as I care for her deeply. I had sufficient time to consider my errors last night, after I contacted Dr. McCoy aboard the Enterprise. He had useful suggestions for actions I may undertake in order to 'get back in Nyota's good graces', as he said."

Sarek raised an eyebrow. "You could have asked me how to soothe the injured feelings of a human woman. I was married to your mother, Spock. Happily, as you know very well."

"It was late," Spock said awkwardly. "I smelled the smoke from your firepot and did not wish to disturb your meditation."

"I am your father! I would welcome being disturbed for advice, or even for idle conversation. Your decisions have not always been agreeable to me, but much has changed. We should know more about one another."

The sudden emotion in Sarek's voice surprised Spock. "Our current interactions are peaceful. We are able to discuss many subjects without conflict."

"Yet you do not allow me to be a source of... emotional and personal support to you. At times you treat me as though I were a colleague, not your parent."

"It was not intentional; I am simply accustomed to living my own life." But was it really his own? He was connected to so many people now: Nyota, her family, Kirk, even the cantankerous McCoy, and others aboard the Enterprise and in the Federation with whom he interacted frequently. Emotional attachments existed, despite his denial of them.

"I would appreciate any opportunity to become more involved in your life. Nyota has made measurable efforts to improve our acquaintance with each other." Sarek paused, then looked at him seriously. "I have invited a more hospitable group of people to tonight's reception, although I cannot shun the rude ones for political reasons. Nyota will need your support, Spock. You do plan to attend?"

"Of course I do. I will not leave her to face the world of Vulcan society alone. Although it took me some time to admit it to myself, I often find myself relying upon Nyota during parties; she has a more developed sense of sociability and better personal interaction skills."

"You are expected to enter the banquet hall together."

Fighting the impulse to roll his eyes, Spock replied, "Yes, I know, Father. "

Footsteps sounded lightly in the hall; Spock looked up to see Nyota standing barefoot in the arched doorway, holding a pair of sandals in one hand as though preparing to go out again.

"Osu Sarek, I - oh. Greetings, Spock."

Spock stood up, but did not approach her. "Good morning, tal-kam. I hope that your walk was agreeable."

"It was. Thank you." Her glance moved between father and son.

"Did you wish to ask me something, ko-fu Nyota?"

"I wished to ask your advice. Privately. But...oh, we're all here in the same room. I don't know if I should even talk about this, forget it."

"I have already spoken with my father about our disagreement last night, and I have acknowledged my errors. I am very sorry, Nyota. I should have considered your experiences more thoroughly. In future I will defend and support you. Please forgive me."

Pressing a hand against her forehead, Nyota sighed. "I've thought things over, too. Yesterday was really tough for me; I'm sorry I threw that pillow at you."

Eyebrows raised, Sarek stood and headed for the door. "Perhaps this conflict is best resolved between the two of you. Alone. I will speak with both of you later."

Embarassed, Nyota looked down at the floor as her father-in-law left.

Spock gestured toward the empty place next to him. "Sanoi (please), come sit with me, if it is agreeable to you. I dislike being in the same room, yet so far away from you."

Looking uncertain, Nyota sat down on the cushion beside him. The polish on her toenails shone a deep red. Spock reached out to caress her foot, ready to make some teasing remark about the illogical ornamentation, then hesitated and pulled back his hand. Had they forgiven each other enough yet? She adjusted her skirts, covering the bared skin.

Spock leaned a bit closer, wishing that he could touch her, or that she would touch him. "I am prepared to apologize to you a thousand times, and each time will be sincere. If anyone insults you in my hearing, I will address it. I wished for a defender many times as a youth on Vulcan; I learned to defend myself, but that does not mean that I would have rejected help from others."

"So you do understand. Why did you scold me about needing reassurance? Don't you ever want to be reminded that I love you?"

"You tell me about your feelings for me frequently; verbal reminders are provided approximately every 1.3 days." He lifted two fingers towards her hand, risking touch. "Non-verbal reminders are provided daily, often in multiple ways that even a scientist finds difficult to quantify...but these reminders are always pleasing. You do it freely, and I so I do not ask you to tell me."

"Do you take me for granted?"

"No. You have told me you love me and I accept it as fact. However, last night's conflict serves as a reminder that I must strive to remain worthy of your feelings. Is this a correct assessment?"

"Spock, there's no simple answer to that question." Slowly, she uncurled her fingers and pressed two to his.

Trembling at the skin contact, Spock murmured, "I will work to win you back."

"You haven't lost me." She stroked the side of his face, and he allowed his eyes to fall closed for a moment while he drank in her touch. "I wouldn't complain if you wanted to be extra sweet to me for a few days, though."

His eyes opened as her hand moved away. "That is interesting phraseology; it recalls Dr. McCoy's advice."

Nyota laughed. "You asked Len for help in solving this?"

"He has great knowledge of difficulties in human relationships. I believe his exact words were, 'give her some sugar; extra sugar'. Leonard spoke metaphorically during much of our discussion, which is odd for a medical professional."

"It's not odd for a friend. Oh, I can just imagine the things he said! Should I thank him or scold him, I wonder?"

"Do not worry, Nyota. I am willing to 'be creative', as he suggested."

Without warning, Nyota gathered her skirt in one hand and stood, startling him. "I'm glad we talked, but I think I still need some space," she said, pulling on her sandals. "I'll see you tonight."

She walked through the door leading into the sunny courtyard garden. Spock leapt up and hurried after her.

"Nyota, wait." He'd hoped that the steady, playful affection they shared would be easily restored. "Have I hurt you so deeply? My words were harsh indeed."

"I'll get over it. I'm...thinking about some things. Anyway, I have to prepare to leave for a social appointment; T'voria invited me. Someone finally decided to be friendly to me on New Vulcan, and I'm not going to waste the opportunity."

She walked towards the main door, then paused, looking back at him almost as an afterthought. "What are your plans for the day?"

"I will accompany Sarek to a meeting regarding the Coridian application for Federation membership."

"How interesting. Some very dynamic and popular trade languages are used in Coridian space ports. Sarek mentioned that the Coridian ambassadors have been invited to tonight's reception at the Cultural Center."

"Affirmative. I shall return from Parliament as early as possible so that we may dine together."

"Oh, I don't know how soon I'll be back. Don't feel obliged to wait for me," she said, and left.

Tension gripped Spock's side, all around his heart. Apparently words were insufficient; she did not believe him. Tangibles, McCoy had suggested. Actions, and objects. He must try some other way to win at this tangled business of love.

Frustrated, Spock struck the thick trunk of a treelike plant with his fist; a section of the bark cracked, and he grimaced. Another gentle thing was damaged by his blundering. He heard the sound of a transport's purring engine beyond the wall, the sound of Nyota leaving.

...

Plans for an evening of romantic attempts at reconciliation flew away with the light afternoon breeze that swirled dry leaves around the courtyard at the Parliamentary Building.

"Why have Captain Kirk and Mr. Scott been summoned to this series of diplomatic meetings?" demanded an astounded Spock. "And Lieutenant Sulu and Dr. McCoy as well?" He hoped that the Doctor would remain professional enough to avoid winking at him or otherwise reminding Spock of his angst-filled midnight distress call.

Infuriatingly, Sarek raised an eyebrow in response. "They are your colleagues; do you not welcome their participation?"

"Both are dedicated, honest, intelligent officers. I consider them friends as well as admirable colleagues. Simply put, I was unaware of their connection to this situation with the Coridians. I had assumed that my own Federation knowledge might be sufficient in this situation."

"The Federation communicated to me privately that Jim Kirk, Hikaru Sulu, and Montgomery Scott have experiential knowledge likely to be useful during our discussion of dilithium resources and spacecraft. As the Enterprise is nearby, I thought it appropriate to invite them to meet the Coridians. I requested the presence of Dr. McCoy for personal reasons."

"Personal - Father, are you ill?"

"I do not know. I am uncertain, and I seek to put Dr. McCoy's xenobiology knowledge to good use. Among the Federation doctors contacted, he was the first to respond to my inquiry. We may discuss this in depth later," Sarek finished, nodding toward the structure that housed a transporter pad. Arriving guests walked through the courtyard - Andorians, more Coridians, Vulcans living off-planet in colonies, and other off-worlders. Vulcan security forces briefly interviewed each person, confirming their identities.

"You must allow me to assist you," Spock said. "Precisely when will my crewmates arrive?" Spock asked.

Sarek gave him an indulgent half-smile. "Now, I think."

"Hey, there he is. Spock!"

...

An enthusiastic T'voria led Nyota on a lengthy walking tour of the city center, pausing to describe the future purpose of construction sites and pointing out places where the population shopped, sought resettlement assistance and conducted public life. People traveled through the city on foot, in camel carts or on camelback, and small transport vehicles. Finally Nyota pleaded for a rest, and the women sat drinking fruit juices beneath a canopy in the market.

"I am pleased to know that you will be present at tonight's diplomatic reception. I shall accompany my husband. Often I am alone at home with the children every night. I asked him to involve me more in his activities and his thoughts, and now he remembers to bring me to social events."

Just ask, huh? Wish it were that simple for me, Nyota thought. "I'm a little nervous about this reception."

"Why? Your bondmate and Sarek will be present, and I will introduce you to the women I know. They are much kinder than those on the camel tour yesterday."

Briefly, Nyota explained the problem of her red dress, without saying who had indirectly forbidden her to wear it.

A wry expression appeared on T'voria's face. "It was T'Pau, was it not?"

"I didn't say who it was."

T'voria finished her fruit juice with an un-Vulcan slurp. "Her advice is, in a practical sense, quite sound. She wanted you to understand that you will draw attention to yourself if you wear a bright color. She meant to be kind to you by helping you to 'fade into the background', to use the Standard expression. Is fading into the background agreeable to you?"

"I don't need to be the center of attention. Red is a color of celebration and warmth, and I wear that dress because I like it. It's comfortable and pretty."

"Comfortable. Pretty." T'voria's eyes sparkled as she looked off into the distance, obviously plotting something. Nyota had often seen a similar expression on Gaila's face. Some sort of rumpus usually followed.

Hmm.

The woman jumped up and grabbed Nyota's sleeve.

"Accompany me, Nyota. We have three hours yet before I must pick up the children from school. I will take you to my home. I privately practice a commoner's art - I am an ogsu (seamstress), as my grandmother was. I have an idea that you may find useful."

"I wouldn't dare upset T'Pau!"

"You are only forbidden from wearing a red dress. Naught was said of any other color."

Apprehensive, but too curious to say no, Nyota followed.

 

After greeting the Enterprise crew, introducing them to Sarek, and accompanying them to their guesthouse, Spock joined them for an afternoon meal. Although he was nervous about how his friends and colleagues would view him in this new context, the men were friendly and interested in his translations and explanations, and he felt accepted, even admired. When asked about Nyota's absence, he said that she was touring the capital with a new friend and would join everyone at the evening diplomatic reception. After a few agreeable hours he excused himself, explaining that he needed time to brief himself on political issues before the event.

True, a stack of padds awaited him back at the ambassadorial manor, but his journey home involved a detour. Conveniently located in the city center, the small shop with a discreet, secure entrance was operated by a collective of some of the most imaginative, skilled Vulcan jewelers to survive the destruction of new Vulcan. Recognizing Sarek's son, the artisans almost elbowed one another in their eagerness to present earrings, bracelets, necklaces, hair ornaments. When Spock explained his search for an item with a specific style and metaphorical meaning, they opened their safe storage and produced unusual designs - experiments, some of them - made from the unfamiliar metals found on their new planet. Spock reviewed each design carefully, selected an elegant but bold piece, and paid, promising to analyze the suitability of a return visit and future purchases. Gifts usually opened a closed bedroom door, McCoy had hinted, or at least thawed difficult communications between spouses.

Their quarters were empty and silent, which surprised him; Nyota usually liked to have plenty of time to dress for an event. Spock laid the cloth-covered gift box in the center of Nyota's side of the bed, and prepared to put on his Federation dress uniform.

...

Vulcans did not giggle, nor did they fidget, but T'voria made squeaking noises and bounced slightly on the balls of her feet as Nyota smiled and slipped out of the dress.

"Thank you again, a thousand times! It's beautiful. I've never had anything quite like it," she said as she changed back into her clothes. "You're very talented. Surely other women would love to wear the dresses you make."

T'voria had altered a dress of her own design for Nyota to wear; a few dozen other dresses in various stages of completion, along with children's clothes, hung on a long rack inside the room she called 'my sewing cave'.

"It is good to maintain one's manual dexterity and sense of aesthetic design during the hours when I am not being a parent," she said, wrapping the dress inside a length of fabric and placing it into a basket. "I am devoted to my children and my husband, but I enjoy the time I spend with my ideas. There are some who look down upon those who make a living by using their hands; I find great satisfaction in knowing that I have a skill." She placed the basket into Nyota's hands. "I look forward to seeing you at the reception."

"Yes, and I think that I'll enjoy it more than I expected, thanks to you." Nyota almost hugged the woman, caught herself, then clasped her hand and kissed her cheek.

T'voria's eyes widened, and she squeaked.

...

"The reception begins in one Standard hour, but Nyota is not in our room. Punctuality is one of Nyota's strongest characteristics. Perhaps something bad has happened."

"Can you not sense through your bond whether she is in danger?" asked Sarek.

Flushing green, Spock lowered his gaze.

"I see. She temporarily muted your connection with her when you argued last night, and has not restored it yet? I thought that you had apologized to each other."

"We spoke the words, but she remains...distant from me."

"Spock, you must resolve this conflict. Take it seriously. Accept the fact that you cannot always 'be right', and make an effort to listen to her more closely."

"I will, Father." His communicator beeped, and he quickly read the message on its screen. "It is Nyota. She says that she will come here to dress and then meet us at the reception. Such behavior is uncustomary. I will contact her and insist that she -"

"Spock," his father said, a warning tone in his voice.

"Perhaps I will not insist, but I will...do as she says," he conceded. "This time."

Sarek sighed. There were some things that his son would have to learn on his own.

...

T'voria completed the finishing touches to her evening clothes, caressed the faces of her sleeping children, and joined her husband near the front door of their home. "I am ready, tal-kam."

"As usual, your choice of dress is aesthetically pleasing, ashayam. I continue to be pleased by your suggestion that we spend more time together." He paused and looked at her carefully. The small prosthetic patch that his wife usually wore to hide the scar on her face was missing. "You are not wearing your patch tonight."

"No. I decided...I felt like being myself tonight."

"You know that you are always aesthetically pleasing to me, no matter how you choose to appear. Come; I look forward to meeting this Nyota you spoke of."

...

Nyota stepped forward onto the center of the tiled circle at the entrance to the large room at the Parliament Building, and the already soft volume of conversation in the room fell to a hush. Spock turned slightly away from the circle of his Enterprise crewmates.

Nyota had disobeyed T'Pau.

She wore a simple, ivory colored long column of a dress. The neckline was high, leaving her collarbones visible. She had braided her hair into a simple, upswept style. She wore no jewelry other than dangling earrings with small green stones and a single bracelet made from two different colors of metal, shaped in a way that entwined the contrasting colors. The smooth brown skin of her bare arms gleamed subtly, as though her body had been lovingly and carefully oiled and polished. Spock wished that he had been present to rub the lotions and creams into her skin with his own hands.

He looked at his gift, shining on her wrist, then into her eyes. Nyota looked back at him and nodded slightly.

The harpist, who had slowed the notes of the background music he played, changed tunes. Now he played the melody of an old Vulcan ode to a pair of lovers who had returned to each other after a long period of separation. Spock nearly winced at the unconscious irony of the choice.

For his part, Sarek wanted to scold the man for his musical response to the attention the crowd aimed at Nyota. She looked sad, and she clasped her hands tightly in front of her. Despite her visible discomfort, she held her head high and still under the scrutiny of most of the room's occupants. Only her eyes moved as she sought Spock, who quickly strode forward and extended two fingers; Nyota lifted her fingers to meet his, and Spock led her into the room while the next guest entered.

The first step Nyota took as the couple stepped forward revealed a long slit in the side seam of her dress, revealing the length of her bare leg up to just above the knee.

Watching, Jim Kirk groaned. "Oh, damn. Yes."

"It's not for your benefit, Jim," McCoy muttered. "Trust me on that."

Jim shrugged his broad shoulders. "I'm only looking, I don't touch."

"Touch and you'll get to experience Vulcan combat techniques up close and personal - again," chortled Sulu. "But yeah, I think I'll be committing that image to memory. She looks good enough to e-"

"Good evening, gentlemen." For an older man, Sarek moved quickly. Jim could have sworn Spock's father had been standing halfway across the room a moment ago, chatting with a grumpy-looking Tellarite delegate.

"Good evening, Ambassador! Nice to see you again. The entire Federation is well represented here tonight." Jim broke out a modified version of the famous Kirk smile and aimed it at Sarek.

"Indeed. As one would expect, many different points of view are represented as well."

"Ambassador, I thank ye again for inviting us. I look forward to making my presentation tomorrow," Scotty said. "Rarely am I asked to give my perspective as an engineer on the experience of dealing with dilithium supply chains."

"I've got plenty to discuss from a navigator's perspective as well," Sulu said. "Ambassador, I understand that there is some opposition to the admission of the Coridian planets. Perhaps we could meet early tomorrow, and you could tell us which Federation members oppose the admission of the Coridians? I am willing to appeal to the opposition and explain how, as someone working within the Federation, it benefits all if we work together."

"Quite insightful, Mr. Sulu. Yes, let us all meet. Eight Standard hours, if it is agreeable to all?" Sarek asked.

Everyone agreed to the plan. Nighttime entertainment on New Vulcan seemed unlikely to keep even hardcore partiers such as Jim, Sulu, and Scotty out very late, unless they developed a sudden passion for harp playing.

...

Heart pounding, Nyota gratefully allowed Spock to lead her to small groups of People Who Must Be Acknowledged. Somehow she managed to make polite small talk with Vulcans, the Coridian trade delegation, Tellarites, Andorians, and other offworlders.

My adun'a, Spock said confidently to each group before he spoke her name.
Repeatedly, he touched her: fingers, elbows, her shoulder, even a light brush against her hip. The altered dress had a small keyhole opening in back which left part of her back bare. The warm pads of his fingertips moved along her spine. Not a single touch was accidental. Nyota felt warm and increasingly edgy. When they locked gazes during an unguarded moment, he looked at her as though they were alone.

Sarek's large, taciturn bodyguard - Nyota refused to believe the man's services were limited to those of a valet - suddenly appeared, then disappeared into the crowd. It was strange that such a large man could move in a way that attracted such little notice.

It was a relief to distract herself with greetings to the Enterprise men. She missed them all after less than three days.

"Hi, guys!"

"Hello, Ny - or should I say, Lady Uhura. You look smashing, missy," Leonard McCoy drawled, greeting her with nothing more than a squeeze of her hand. Spock was looking very protective tonight. Sulu and Scotty were equally conservative in their greetings, but Jim appeared to be angling for a cheek kiss before Len cleared his throat. Jim heeded the warning, choosing to hold her hand a little too long instead. Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, that's a really nice bracelet, Ny," Jim said, and let go of her hand.

"Thanks, Jim. Isn't it lovely? It was a gift from Spock, just this afternoon," she said softly, turning to gaze at the silent man beside her.

Len smiled into his drink. Not bad. The Vulcan appeared to be heeding his advice.

Detaching himself from the Andorian thelev, Sarek guided Spock and Nyota to yet another group of Very Notable People and introduced them, saying loudly and clearly how pleased he was to welcome his son's adun'a to New Vulcan, and that he looked forward to accepting her invitation to visit the Uhura home in future. He had heard that her home region was famous for its hospitality, Sarek said, and he hoped that Nyota would be made equally welcome during her visit to New Vulcan.

This last sentence was accompanied by a meaningful look directed at everyone in earshot. Voices buzzed again as Sarek's unspoken warning was relayed throughout the room. Nyota let her emotions show long enough to direct a grateful smile at her future father-in-law.

"Thank you, Sarek," she whispered while Spock was drawn away into discussion with the Tellarites. "I was afraid to come here tonight. I'm still afraid, but your help makes a tremendous difference."

She sought out T'voria, finally locating her next to the side of a tall Vulcan man.

"Nyota, the dress is as aesthetically pleasing as I expected. May I present my adun, Sireve?" The man looked somber, but he returned Nyota's greeting with courteous ease and made conversation effortlessly. His dry humor balanced T'voria's sense of whimsy. As she complimented T'voria on her own choice of a rosy pink dress, Nyota saw the couple's fingers subtly brushing together. They seemed settled, calm, happy. She must try to find some indirect way of asking T'voria for advice on living with Vulcan men.

Spock disentangled himself from the Tellarite delegation and rejoined Nyota, who introduced him to T'voria and Sireve. She opened their mental bond a little, feeling his mixture of relief and worry.

Trouble?

Conflict. Gav, Tellarite Ambassador. Can't discuss now.

"T'voria, allow me to introduce you to the rest of the Enterprise crew. These are some of the wonderful people I work with every day."

The Vulcan couple was eager to meet such interesting humans, and a fresh round of conversation began, with recommendations of places to visit on New Vulcan. Nyota was quiet, enjoying the feeling of having Spock next to her again.

Nyota, you are exceptionally aesthetically pleasing tonight. The dress?

T'voria's creation, altered for me. She is very kind. Thank you for the bracelet. Only you would choose metaphorical jewelry.

Does it please you?

Intensely. As do you, in your public support of me.

Nyota touched the back of her hand to Spock's palm, feeling a wave of pleasure flow from him. Oh, yes. Perhaps they could leave this party early and -

T'voria pulled at Nyota's skirt. "Behind you!"

Spock's warm hand steadied Nyota as T'Pau approached, followed by a nervous-looking Vulcan official of some sort.

T'Pau's fame and reputation preceded her; as one of the most well-known public figures to turn down a seat in the Federation, her history was a standard element of intelligence documentation about old and New Vulcan. The jovial Enterprise men fell silent.

T'Pau stared at Nyota. Nyota kept her voice steady. "Good evening, T'sai. May I present the Entrprise bridge crew?"

The eminent Vulcan ignored the men.

"At least the dress is not red," she said, then turned around and marched off, trailed by the official.

The Enterprise crew exchanged confused looks.

"It's a long story," Nyota said.

"I'll bet it is," replied McCoy. "With all due respect, Spock, Sarek - some of our other off-world guests are wearing far less clothing tonight." This was true of male, female, and bi-and-tri-gendered guests of various ages, one of whom was dressed in two pieces of gold mesh and some dark blue paint.

Spock lifted his shoulders in the equivalent of a Vulcan shrug. "Coverage is not in question here. Conformity to expectations is."

Gav, the Tellarite ambassador, was signaling towards Spock and Sarek, seeking attention. Urgently. Nyota wondered what was wrong. Although delegates often became enraged during formal meetings, it was strange for someone to become so agitated during a social occasion.

As Spock and Sarek excused themselves and joined Gav, she turned to the Enterprise men. "As happy as I am to see all of you, I wonder why you're here."

"The planetary system of Coridian is applying for Federation membership, and we're here to provide information in support of their application," Jim replied. "Should be simple enough, because they're got an abundance of what everyone in Starfleet and the Federation wants - dilithium crystals. We should be finished within a day of two, and have time left over for sightseeing."

"I haven't seen much of the planet, but what I have seen is nice." She began to describe the camel excursion.

...

Gav, the Tellarite delegate, was in a foul mood indeed. "Sarek, the Coridians have no place in the Federation! Your years as a diplomat have blinded you to the planetary concerns of real people."

"Sir, I understand that we may not all agree about the benefits of Coridian participation, but this is hardly the place to discuss it. A formal process must be followed. Please wait until tomorrow's meetings. You may hear information which affects your views of their participation. Several other planets are considering applying as well, and each one has something to offer."

Gav tilted his head back and managed to look down his nose at Sarek, although Sarek was taller.

"This broad thinking may well apply to personal philosophies, but not to planetary economics. Coridian has historically been hostile in some of its dealings with other planets: Dresal, Rewwa, and...Tellar Prime. These disputes go back for years and have not been resolved to our satisfaction."

"If you please, Gav, will you consider presenting your concerns during tomorrow's debate? The Coridian ambassadors are nearby, and we would like to ensure that this gathering remains peaceful and hospitable for everyone present."

"Sarek, your boy is as bad a listener as you are."

Sarek felt a slight ache in his side, and struggled to conceal his impatience. "Gav, that is quite enough. Please do not insult my son, who is a more than capable adult." It was common for Tellarites to replace conversation with complaints. Already they had complained that their rooms on New Vulcan were too cold, then too hot. Argument might be considered a great skill on Tellar Prime, but it efficiently dampened the mood at a party.

...

T'ober, the most dismissive of the Vulcan women from yesterday's ill-fated camel tour, walked past with the Andorian delegate Thelev, talking to him in low tones. Nyota looked at them, lifting her hand in greeting. T'ober looked back at her blankly, then smirked and walked on.

Although she hadn't been the one to initiate the rude behavior, Nyota felt self-conscious. She was reluctant to have her crewmates know how disliked she was here. It was no use hoping that they hadn't noticed.

"Time for a change of tactics, I think," Scotty said.

He approached the Vulcan harpist, who was taking a break, and spoke quietly with him. The Vulcan's eyebrows rose, and then he awkwardly returned Scotty's thumbs-up gesture.

"Where's this going?" wondered Jim.

Scotty returned to their group. "Nyota, I recall from our entertainment nights aboard ship that ye have memorized several Vulcan songs. Feel like singing now? The harpist told me he will gladly accompany ye in exchange for some of the chocolate bars I smuggled down."

"Hmm. If we all get arrested later tonight, blame Scotty," Sulu said.

"Uh...I haven't warmed up, but I could manage one of the simpler melodies. Let me ask Sarek about protocol first." Nyota glanced nervously towards Spock and Sarek, who had freed themselves from the uncomfortable discussion with Gav and were returning to their group.

Sarek looked pleased by the distraction. "That is very considerate of you, Mr. Scott. Please do consider it, Nyota."

T'voria, looking hugely entertained by the things she observed this evening, tugged at Nyota's skirt. "The old Vulcan songs are much admired here. It may help you to make the good impression that so concerns you."

"All right; just one song. I'll just need some water, no ice, please."

"Got it." Jim signaled a passing waiter.

Nyota touched the engineer on the shoulder. "Scotty, you've been hiding your skills as a social strategist."

"The Federation didna hire me just because I'm beautiful and charming. Here's your water...ready now? Come on, lass."

The engineer escorted her to the harpist's side and fetched her a chair. Trembling slightly, Nyota perched on its edge and introduced herself to the harpist; together they chose a song. Heads turned as the harpist's fingers brought forth a chain of sparkling melodic phrases.
...

A sea of eyes, some in multiple sets, gazed back at Nyota, and she internally questioned the wisdom of Scotty's social strategy. She hadn't warmed up and was playing to a potentially tough audience. T'ober, the woman who had been less than welcoming on the camel tour and ignored Nyota's greeting earlier that evening, chose that moment to step out for some fresh air, walking through an arched doorway that appeared to lead to a terrace. Good riddance, Nyota thought. She was nervous enough as it was, and one less judgmental stare in the room might relax her.

Carefully, she avoided looking in T'Pau's direction, focusing her attention on the cascading notes the musician played. The song was familiar to her, in a key she handled well, and the High Vulcan lyrics dealt with appreciating the pleasures of changing seasons; nothing to outrage anyone. As always, the music calmed her and turned her thoughts away from herself. As she sang the first notes, she felt herself become part of the song, and she soon thought about little more than sharing the song with the beings around her and following and responding to the musician beside her. When the song ended, she felt almost startled by the various forms of applause - clapping hands, whistles, squeaks, grumbles, foot stomps, and silent, waving hands.

"Thank you both. The performance was most agreeable. Another, please?" The request came from Sancis, the sociable Vulcan who had hosted the camel trip. "Perhaps an Earth melody, for balance."

"Thank you, Osu Sancis. Perhaps there's an Earth song we both know..." Nyota looked uncertainly at the harpist.

"I spent some years traveling as part of a cultural delegation on Earth," the man said reassuringly. "I learned many Earth songs, Osasu Uhura. Are you familiar with this song by the great tertitayek, Osu Edward Kennedy Ellington?"

Quickly, his fingers plucked the notes of a phrase from a song Nyota had learned during her first year with the Starfleet Chorale. Love You Madly. The familiar melody made her smile. "Good choice , sir. "

They began the song. Nyota sought refuge in the music again, but this time she opened her bond with Spock enough to let him know what she thought, and felt, while she sang. She'd observed him becoming similarly absorbed in songs while playing his ka'athyra. He would understand. Handsome in his close-fitting dress uniform jacket and dark trousers, Spock stood at the inside of the loose circle around Nyota and the harpist. The tenderness in his expression gave her hope; maybe they would feel easy with one another again soon and regain their old sense of comfort.

Unfortunately, maintaining focus was difficult this time. Even while Nyota sang, she could hear raised voices speaking in angry tones at the far edge of the room; a few glances in that direction revealed Gav, the Tellarite delegate, exchanging tense words with the Coridians. The tensions which had flared between the Coridian planetary system and Tellaris several decades ago had not been entirely forgotten. Abundant supplies of dilithium crystals might be enough to help some governments form a positive opinion of Coridians, but Gav's disagreement was openly displayed. Apparently he felt so passionately about the matter that he was unwilling to wait until tomorrow morning's meetings and wanted to debate it now. Sarek approached them, perhaps attempting to end the dispute.

Nyota increased her volume slightly, as did the ka'athyra player. Sighing slightly with relief, Nyota noticed Gav leave the room with Sarek. The second song was as well received as the first, but she declined to sing a third. Instead she thanked the harpist and sought out a place to sit with T'voria and a group of surprisingly gregarious Vulcan women.

One of the Vulcan ladies hinted to Nyota that she was interested in an introduction to Jim, who was aiming the Kirk Smile in the ladies' direction. He'd modified the Kirk Smile for Vulcan - no teeth showing - but this only increased its effect, making him seem shy, boyish, and approachable. The woman was on the verge of showing emotions as she looked Kirk up and down.

Here we go again, Nyota thought, but she made the introduction, first whispering, "Don't touch her hands, or anything else," into Jim's ear. He cast a smug look her way, but complied. He kept his hands behind his back and gazed into the woman's eyes with a soulful expression. Nyota thought she was about to witness the rare sight of a Vulcan woman swooning.

A different Vulcan woman approached Nyota, and in a low voice, requested an introduction to Sulu. A steady stream of women and men, Vulcan and otherwise, began to quietly express their wish to acquaint themselves with Sulu, Scotty, and Jim.

Does the Starfleet dress uniform make men irresistible? If I have to play matchmaker tonight, maybe I can help Len out. Nyota looked around the large room, but Len had vanished. Kirk was dividing his attention between a cluster of Vulcans and the blue-painted person dressed in gold mesh. Sulu and Scotty were surrounded by curious guests. Fun to watch, but slightly overwhelming. A few minutes by herself wouldn't hurt. Slipping away from the buzz of conversation, Nyota sought out a quiet place in the big building.

...

Leonard McCoy wondered where Sarek had gone. The stately Vulcan was nowhere to be seen; not on the terraces, nor in the winding corridors. After what seemed like a great deal of walking he found the older man seated on a bench in an alcove.

"Sir, are you feeling well? Can you breathe easily?"

"I am well, thank you, Dr. McCoy. It is just a moment of solitude. Tensions between the Tellarites and Coridians remain high, and it was difficult to persuade them to allow the disagreement to wait until we are all in a formal setting. Such is the diplomat's life."

"I could hear that argument from the other side of the room; personally, I'd call it more than 'tense'. I know that our appointment is scheduled for tomorrow, but until then I'd like to offer this bit of medical advice: let some of your staff and colleagues deal with Gav tonight, or consider leaving the party early so that you can get some rest. The symptoms you described to me suggest cardiac problems, and I don't want you experiencing any more stress than necessary. I do understand that your presence in meetings is important, but you can't help New Vulcan if you're sick."

A fleeting expression of stubbornness showed clearly in Sarek's face; McCoy realized that Vulcans were, occasionally, easy to read. "My presence in meetings is essential." He shoulders sagged. "However, I admit that I do not feel entirely well."

Nor did he look entirely well, McCoy thought. "With all due respect, sir, I think you may need to go home. If I can help with anything now, please tell me - great jumpin' Jehoshaphat! Where'd you come from?"

Sarek's large, silent valet was standing behind McCoy's right shoulder.

"Pardon, Dr. McCoy. Sietla moves very quickly and silent. Sietla, permit me to introduce Dr. Leonard McCoy, of the Enterprise; he will act as my physician on behalf of the Federation. Dr. McCoy, this is Sietla, my valet."

Valet? I can't see this brawny character ironing anybody's shirts. Breaking legs, maybe.

"Sietla, how do you do? A pleasure to meet you. We may be seeing a bit of each other over the next few days. I promise you, I'll do my best to help Sarek."

The face above the muscular chest remained expressionless, but he lifted his hand in greeting. McCoy attempted to return the ta'al, but his fingers wouldn't cooperate, and he settled for a short nod.

"Sietla, I will speak privately with Dr. McCoy for several minutes, and then return home. You may stay if you like."

"Return alone? Not safe." The man's deep voice rumbled forth in Standard, a polite concession to McCoy's presence.

"New Vulcan has street crime?"

"For some on street," Sietla said. "Advice to you: Starfleet men walk together at night. Vulcans, off-worlders, they do not all like Starfleet. Safe here. Not all places."

"I understand. Thanks for the advice."

Sietla gave McCoy a serious look and walked a few feet away, giving them some privacy.

My Great Aunt Minnie Wiggins makes a more convincing valet than this dude.

"So, Sarek, how's that arm feeling now?"

...

Spock wondered if the men gathered near the doorway realized that his half-humanness did not diminish his sensitive Vulcan hearing. Perhaps they simply did not care. Spying and eavesdropping were not habits he pursued, but among beings with names, it was natural to pause when one heard one's name spoken. Guarded emotions and politeness were not universal on planet, and Vulcans were no more perfect than any other being. Most Vulcans at least tried to achieve a sort of perfection. Not this little group. Their opinions were made clear to him as he stood behind the column.

"Spock? One wonders whether it is his human half that leads to his peculiar sexual proclivities with regard to human women."

"Proclivities? Has he dallied with other humans?"

"Spock spent years on Earth at that Starfleet, did he not? He would have had numerous opportunities to indulge his undisciplined human impulses."

Numerous? Not precisely. Earth had presented some opportunities for sexual experiences, all conducted discreetly off-campus. However, Spock had spent some of his time at Starfleet being avoided; some of it avoiding thrill-seekers hoping to add a Vulcan to their list of conquests; and months yearning quietly for Nyota while wondering if she were avoiding him. If he hadn't mastered emotional detachment from a lifetime of hearing himself insulted, he would have been amused by the suggestion that he'd lived a life of sensual indulgence on Earth. Instead, he simply found the content, time and place of the discussion duhik - foolish - and offensive.

"I have heard that he attempts to follow Vulcan customs, but his blood is not pure; therefore his tastes cannot possibly be. Perhaps he stayed too long on Earth."

"His human female speaks Vulcan well," a timid voice ventured. "In her interaction with me she displayed acceptable standards of courtesy. Her emotions were controlled but her behavior indicates empathy. She asked me about my intellectual interests and listened to my response. In return, she responded to my own questions about her life in the United States of Africa, and even offered to show me holos from her family home."

"Holos of what?" sneered the first voice. "Half-naked humans? Or a 'safari', as I believe they are called?"

The timid voice grew firm and stronger. "That is an ignorant comment. As any educated being knows, large cities and complex cultures have flourished throughout the African continent for many centuries. I am far from displeased with Osasu Uhura. She was observed socializing with an eccentric, T'voria, but I see no reason to be dismissive of her."

"I saw how the husband of T'arba stared," muttered the second man. "He watched Spock's human as though she were one of the plants he studies."

"T'arba has no reason to worry. It may be passing sexual curiosity, similar to that of Spock. It will surprise no one if Spock abandons the human female."

"Pehkau! She is his bondmate, not his toy. More respect should be shown to Uhura, and indeed to any female. None of us truly understands the private lives of others. I am ashamed of myself for listening to such talk at a diplomatic function." The third man strode away.

Spock knew that the proper path of action was not to confront the men. However, he could not prevent himself from stepping out from behind the column so that they could see him.

Vulcans rarely gasped, but Spock clearly heard air hissing inward: a collective, startled intake of breath. His expression was stern as he faced the men, taking a second to look each one in the eye. One of them sought an appointment to a prestigious committee led by Sarek.

"I heard," Spock said.

Shoulders stiff, he walked away.

Spock walked back in the direction he'd come from, seeking temporary escape from the pressures of this social event. Cool evening air beckoned to him; for once, even as a Vulcan, he felt too hot. The door to the broad terrace on the side of the building stood open, and he walked out into the night.

Nyota stood to one side of the door, her arms wrapped around herself.

"Nyota! How long have you been here?"

"I overheard someone talking about us. Part of what they said, anyway. I left. I've had enough of this for tonight. Maybe I can deal with it tomorrow; not now."

"How much did you hear?"

"They mentioned your 'sexual proclivities'. That third man spoke up, thank goodness, and I left. Seems that I can't do anything right here. The rest of the crew seems to be getting along well, thank goodness. I think I want to go home now. I'll find a transport, I have my own money."

"No. I will take you. I prefer that you do not leave this way. Walk with me, let us have some unstructured time together. I have not been alone with you for so long," he said, unable to keep the pleading tone from his voice. "Let me try to comfort you, ashayam."

He held her hand then, in the human way, fingers interlaced and palms touching. Through the skin contact, Spock sensed her gratitude and relief, tinged with sadness. Impulsively he leaned forward to kiss her on the mouth.

She turned her head away. "We can't do this here," she whispered.

"Then we shall find a more private place, if you will permit me to try again," Spock replied. Holding hands, they began to walk the perimeter of the broad terrace.

The terrace was surrounded with a high fence; the modest night life of New Vulcan was visible in the street. Passerby made their way home or to unknown errands. Many walked. Others drove small transport vehicles. Nyota saw a few Vulcans riding camels, their pointy ears visible in silhouette. Although not a bustling metropolitan scene, there were signs of renewal and vibrant life in the semidarkness. As she walked with Spock's warm hand in her own, the fears and disappointments of the evening faded slightly. Singing with the harpist had been enjoyable, and T'voria's friends were welcoming. Sarek and Spock had made her feel protected and welcomed. True, the conflict between Gav and the Coridians was unsettling, but perhaps Gav could find a peaceful resolution tomorrow. Weapons had not been drawn; things could be worse.

They walked to an area where transport vehicles were parked, along a row of tall, treelike plants laden with blossoms. Even at night, the flowers gave off a heavy, sensual fragrance.

Spock pulled her into the shadows of the trees and kissed her again. This time she did not resist, and it pleased him to feel her relax.

Afterward, Spock embraced her. "I have missed you."

"I was not gone," she sighed, resting her head on his chest.

"Do you still want to leave?"

"I didn't say goodbye to anyone. Please, can't we just stay out here for a while longer? I only want a little break, and then we can go back inside."

"Yes. Then home. To bed."

Gently mocking Spock's patterns of speech, she said, "The subjects occupying your mind tonight are few. Indeed, I believe one subject takes precedence above all others."

"You, above all others." He pulled her closer to him.

"Watch those hands, Mister. We're standing in the Vulcan equivalent of a parking lot. Somebody's going to see us, and we'll be providing free entertainment for the entire city."

"Here is a partial solution." Leading her by the hand, Spock unlocked one of the transports and helped her climb inside. The vehicle was roomy, with a comfortable interior and a curved windshield designed to provide a sweeping view.

"Nice ride, but not too private."

"You underestimate me; this transport is the latest model, and has many useful features. Observe." He gave directions to the vehicle. The windshield darkened slightly, the vents opened to allow the flow of scented night air, and the seats shifted to form a comfortable shape reminiscent of a sofa.

The engine quietly purred to life; Spock moved the vehicle some distance away, beneath a tree with sprawling branches in full flower. The shadows cast by the canopy of branches and dense petals provided a bit more privacy.

Spock shut the engine off, pushed his seat back, and stretched out his legs.

"Shall we wait here until you decide whether or not you would like to face the crowd again? If you want to talk, I am prepared to listen."

From what she could see of him in the half-darkness, his face looked quite serious, and a little sad.

Twinges of pain spiked from her neck down to her shoulders, and she pressed her fingers into the sore muscles. "Maybe I just need a moment out here to relax, think about something else. 'Hold your head high', people say. Well, I held it so high all night that my muscles tensed up, and now they feel like rocks."

Warm fingers slid along her bare skin.

"If you will permit me?"

She smiled at him, then let her eyelids drift closed while he massaged her neck and shoulders. Pausing to adjust her seat to make it easier to touch her, he asked her to turn around so that he could rub her shoulders more easily. The gentle, steady kneading of her muscles relaxed her, and she groaned. Nyota heard Spock's breathing quicken its pace. He pushed away the fabric of her bodice to bare her shoulder, leaning forward to kiss, then gently nip her shoulder with his teeth.

He paused. "I am sorry," he whispered. "You worry that I...'take you for granted', but...I enjoy touching your skin. Last night I feared I might not have the opportunity to do so again."

Insecurity wasn't exclusive to the emotional world of women, apparently. "One night of anger doesn't always end a relationship. Our bond is stronger than that, isn't it?"

"Are you still angry with me?"

"No. Worried about us, yes. Not angry."

"Should you have any requests of an intimate nature, I am willing to do anything that pleases you."

"Anything?"

"I am at your command, t'hy'la."

Playful Spock was difficult to resist, but she couldn't do the things she wanted to do with him, not outdoors in a public place. She gave in to her urge to tease.

"I was not entirely obedient to T'Pau. I am wearing red tonight. Would you like to see?"

Lifting Spock's hands, she placed them beneath her long skirt. He stared up at her, questioning. She nodded her permission.

Hands trembling, Spock pushed the soft fabric up, baring Nyota's smooth legs. She wore only underwear made from silky red fabric. He groaned in surrender and lowered his mouth to her thighs, kissing them.

"I've never done this kind of thing inside a vehicle," Nyota whispered.

"Are you uncomfortable? I will stop."

It was difficult to say no, with his gleaming dark eyes gazing up at her from between her thighs. In fact, it was a mighty struggle, but she knew that she couldn't give in.

"Wait until we get home," she sighed in defeat. "You have no idea how badly I want to say yes. Does my behavior bother you? It's...not the sort of thing that proper ladies do, I know."

"I believe that we have both had enough of propriety for this night." Spock raised his voice enough to be heard by the transport's onboard tech system. "Computer, lock doors."

"Spock, the party!"

"Allow me five minutes."

A breeze shook a flurry of deep purple petals loose from the tree above the vehicle, and they landed soundlessly on the windshield.

"I know that you've already set the glass to a one-way view," she said, "but I feel a little more relaxed now that we're covered by flowers."

"If one were in a poetic frame of mind, it would be worth pointing out that these flowers, when in bud form, are thought by some Vulcans to resemble female genitalia."

Nyota laughed, then stopped as his warm fingers stroked her thigh and slid beneath the red fabric of her underwear.

"This observation is entirely subjective," he continued. "Personally, t'hy'la, I think that there is some rich potential for allegory related to a different characteristic of these flowers."

"And what characteristic is that?"

"How fascinating it is that a flower -" he carefully angled his fingers and slid them just inside her labia - "should respond the way a woman does to heat" - he circled her clitoris slowly, steadily - "and touch."

Catching her gasp with his mouth, he kissed her deeply, then pulled away. "As many of the new residents of this planet have observed, these blossoms open eagerly to the sun, but the buds also open when stroked by warm fingers. Of course, because the blossoms grow so high, they are difficult to reach." He kissed her neck and smiled as her hands moved over his chest and shoulders and opened the top three buttons of his uniform jacket, seeking the warmth of his chest.

"Very few people are able to get close enough to the buds to touch them and see them open so beautifully," he murmured into the side of her neck. "Humans might call this being fortunate, or 'lucky'. Vulcans would more likely describe it as 'making an effort' ."

Spock increased the speed and pressure of his fingers and she sprawled across the seat, whimpering. "Perhaps it is good that I am both, ashayam? I am fortunate to have you, and I am more than willing to make the effort to keep you."

The bite Spock delivered to Nyota's shoulder was light, without enough pressure to bruise, but her skin felt so sensitive that she let out a small scream. Her fingernails raked down the part of his chest bared by his partially opened jacket.

"Mmm, yes, leave your mark on me. I disobeyed you. You said that you did not want to do this here, where anyone might see or hear us. Am I a bad man, Nyota?" He suddenly removed his fingers.

"Spock, you tease," she panted. "Don't stop. How am I going to wait until we get home?"

"That is a rhetorical question."

Despite herself, she laughed, giddy with desire, fear of being observed, and relief at having her Spock restored to her.

He leaned down and rested his forehead against hers. "My question for you involves no rhetoric. Do you want to come, ashayam?"

Nyota pulled him close and kissed him, her fingertips tracing the points of his ears; he shuddered, thrust his pelvis against hers several times - she could feel his hardness through the cloth of his trousers - and finally slid his fingers over and around her clitoris, setting up a tantalizing, relentless rhythm.

An overwhelming wave of delight swept over her, her hips rocking as she gave in, moaning. Through their bond she felt his satisfaction and the pleasure he took in sharing her responses to him. A powerful sense of anticipation was present, too - already he imagined locking the door to their suite, pulling her close to him. Against a wall, on a chair, in the shower, on the chaise on the balcony beneath the stars, across the broad bed they shared.

He wanted her to rip his clothing from him the way she'd done a few times before, costing him extra allotment requests to replace the black Starfleet standard-issue underwear. He wanted her to mark him in ways that required the application of antiseptic to the tiny scratches left by her fingernails, and he wanted her to use the little brush; he wouldn't do it himself. The application process might excite him so much that they would start all over again.

Nyota calmed her breathing, searching for tissues inside a compartment that she could use to clear away the stickiness between her legs. How loudly had she cried out? Soundproofing wasn't one of the features Spock had mentioned when giving directions to the vehicle.

Uniform buttoned, Spock looked as neatly attired as he had when they'd walked onto the terrace. Nyota doubted that she looked the same. Removing the dazed, guilty expression from her face wouldn't be easy.

Spock sensed her worry. "Please, Nyota. There is no need for you to feel ashamed. I initiated this."

"Considering how much I have to lose, I wish that we hadn't done this in a public place. We can't be so reckless."

"I deliberately moved our vehicle to a distant location and took security precautions. In all honesty, I found the illicit nature of our activities exciting and pleasurable. I will not suggest it again if it makes you uncomfortable."

"Oh, who am I kidding? I liked it too. More than liked it. You're a wild man sometimes, and I'm glad." She kissed him and stroked the point of his ear. "What's done is done. Let's go back to the house. I saw you thinking about us together in the shower."

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. Together, they tidied Nyota's dress and hair and left the vehicle.

The sweet odor of the purple flowers still hung heavily in the night air, but something about the atmosphere had changed. Bright lights shone from every window of the Parliamentary Building. Vulcan security personnel ran around the perimeter of the building, some carrying weapons. Spock froze and grabbed Nyota's arm.

Nyota thought of the mysterious ship she'd glimpsed in the desert sky yesterday, flying away from New Vulcan without security clearance. "Are we under attack? I don't hear any alarms," she whispered.

"Something has happened at the party." Spock pushed Nyota behind him, his head turning as he quickly scanned the area for signs of danger. Two Vulcan security staff approached them.

"Pehkau! Do not move - oh, it is you, Osu Spock, Osasu Uhura. Pardon me. You may pass."

"What has happened?" asked Spock. He moved so that Nyota stood in front of him, then easily swept her up into his strong arms.

"Physical attack on the Tellarite delegate Gav, sir. Doctors are coming. The building is secure; you may return inside."

"My father?"

"He is safe inside, with the other guests. Is the lady injured?"

"No, but it will be difficult for her to move quickly while wearing formal dress. Thank you for your concern and help." Spock strode toward the building.

Nyota disliked being spoken of in the third person when she was present, and she wanted to provide assistance to the party goers. "Spock, please put me down and go ahead. I know that I can't move as quickly as you do, but I'll catch up." Running in the fitted dress would be awkward, but she could manage.

"Tal-kam, at the moment, I prefer to know exactly where you are," he replied. "Please allow me this, Nyota."

Relenting, she stopped fighting. "I saw Gav argue with the Coridians while I was singing. Maybe it was a fight, or even a duel."

"A duel conducted during a diplomatic event would be out of character even for the most argumentative being. Something else may have happened."

Inside, dozens of anxious conversations between party guests made it difficult to hear. Bones, standing next to Sarek, saw them and waved them over.

"Father, you are well?" Spock asked.

"In body, somewhat," Sarek sighed. "Mentally, I am distressed by the turn this evening has taken."

Nyota frowned, wondering what had happened to her father-in-law; he hadn't said anything about feeling ill that morning. She looked at Bones, but he shook his head discreetly.

Sarek continued. "Someone has tried to kill Gav, of the Tellarite delegation. They found his body stuffed into a vent in a corridor half an hour ago. He was beaten severely - perhaps by a trained fighter or martial artist, someone who knew how to break and dislocate bones efficiently."

"How horrible!" gasped Nyota. Gav hadn't endeared himself to anyone at the party, but there was no need to attempt murder as the result of an argument - especially when the opportunity to have one's grievances heard, and to resolve the problem diplomatically, lay only several hours in the future.

"Everyone is required to remain in this room until Security finishes searching the premises," Scotty added.

Sulu ended a conversation with a nearby Vulcan security officer and spoke to them in a low voice. "I made some inquiries; the Federation uniform gets people to tell you things. No one was admitted to this party without an official invitation and security clearance. The suspect may still be inside the building. Every guest here is a potential witness, and Vulcan security officers require that everyone answer their questions before leaving here tonight."

Jim approached, looking troubled. Six Vulcan security officers flanked him.

Sarek looked at them. "Captain?"

"Mr. Sarek, I've already contacted the Federation to request their help. I want you to know that the Enterprise crew are prepared to provide as much support as possible, sir."

Spock looked at his crew mates, then at his father. "Jim, what is wrong? Has a suspect been found?"

Instead of answering, Jim looked over at Sarek, who sighed again, more heavily this time, and spoke up.

"I was the last person seen leaving this room with Gav, my son. Many saw him argue with me earlier this evening. I am a suspect. Attempted murder. The diplomatic security force of New Vulcan wants to interrogate me - immediately."

Tension gripped Spock's side; his heart pounded. Spock controlled his features, keeping his face clear of emotion. Nyota felt alarm, fear, and confusion spike through him, and quietly stepped closer; she discreetly pressed the back of her hand along his to maximize the skin contact, and felt his tension ease slightly. When he spoke, his voice was clear and steady.

"Father, you cannot possibly be a murder suspect. A man in your position would not commit such a violent act at a crowded public gathering." He turned and looked sternly at the Vulcan security officers. "In addition, there is no reasonable motive. Although Gav may have argued with my father, there is no history of deep animosity between them. Who made this accusation?"

Hastening to smooth things over, the Chief security officer replied, "No specific accusation has been made, Osu Spock. However, preliminary assessments of Gav's injuries suggest that he was beaten by someone experienced in a martial art; perhaps Suss Mahn, perhaps some other, non-Vulcan culture's fighting technique. You and your father are both known to be practitioners of Suss Mahn. Witnesses observed Osu Sarek and Osu Gav engaged in verbal conflict. You were also seen arguing with Gav."

"Where was Spock, when all of this was happening?" someone in the crowd murmured.

"Quiet, please. I shall ask the questions here. Sanoi, OsuSpock, where were you during this past hour?"

"I was...walking outside with my bondmate."

"Indeed. May we interview your bondmate?"

Nyota spoke up. "I was with my adun Spock the entire time. We never saw Gav outside the building," she said. "Osu Sarek is dedicated to peaceful resolutions, as is his son; he would never do something like this!"

Nothing about the Chief's flat expression changed. "Procedures require that we make at least preliminary inquiries of each person here, as most of them are potential witnesses. No one is allowed to leave until each guest has answered our questions."

Loud groans of complaint filled the warm air of the room. Raising his voice, the Chief lifted a hand to request silence.
"I understand that this inconveniences many, but it is necessary! A guest on New Vulcan was almost murdered here tonight. Sanoi, please be patient. Officers, please begin." The security officers separated people into small groups and began questioning them.

"We shall be here for hours," someone whined. "My shoes feel too tight after all of this standing and socializing, yet we cannot leave."

Nyota was displeased to be separated from Spock, who was taken to one side of the room with Sarek and other Vulcan diplomats. However, the Enterprise crew was part of her group, and the men surrounded her in a half circle, perhaps unconsciously. A lone Andorian delegate, Thelev, stood with them.

Nervously, Nyota glanced around the room, made eye contact with T'voria, and gave her a helpless half-smile, which T'voria responded to by raising both eyebrows in an unusually expressive public gesture.

Nyota's witness interview ended quickly. She explained that she had gone outside for some fresh air and that Spock had joined her; they sat down inside the transport vehicle to speak in private. She omitted the details of what had happened there, adding only that they had discussed leaving the party early and were beginning to walk back inside to say goodbye to Sarek when they learned of the attack. The Vulcan interviewing her seemed empathetic and did not press her for more.

Now she stood next to Thelev, the Andorian, while Vulcan security interviewed Sulu, Scotty, and McCoy; Jim had already told them what little he'd observed. Awkward silence stretched between the Andorian and Nyota. Most Andorians were considered hostile to humans, suspicious of other alien societies, and reputedly much more unwelcoming of outsiders than Vulcans were. However, Thelev had made the effort to travel all the way to New Vulcan, and she didn't wish to seem as though she were ignoring the delegate.

"How terrible it is that the delegate Gav was attacked," Nyota said conversationally and a bit shyly in Andorian. One of the two blue-skinned antennae on Thelev's head turned towards her as she spoke; Nyota pretended not to notice. "The attack is quite shocking. I do hope that no one else was injured, and that Security finds the attacker."

"Hmm. The riddle is perhaps half solved. It was said that a Vulcan fighting technique was used," Thelev replied a bit gruffly.

Further conflict was hardly needed tonight, but Nyota felt compelled to reply, "Oh? I believe I heard the Chief of Security say that some other form of martial art may have been used."

"Human hearing is perhaps imprecise...although you speak Andorian," Thelev said a bit grudgingly. He leaned slightly forward, examining Nyota. "You are not a pink skin, but all human?"

Really? You'd think that a diplomat would have had more exposure to different people. Nyota inhaled and exhaled. "Yes. All human, with brown skin. There are many like me on Earth, and elsewhere in the galaxy. Black skin, golden skin, brown skin, reddish skin, pink skin, skin like honey, skin like clouds, skin like flower petals, skin like tree leaves in autumn, skin like the dark night sky. Quite a nice variety." Unwilling to follow that conversational path any further, Nyota changed the subject. "I do hope that a resolution to this situation is swiftly found and that Gav recovers. The discussions should proceed if at all possible, so that we can all work for the greater good of the Federation."

"We shall see," rumbled Thelev.

Something about the Andorian's accent was unusual. Searching her memory, Nyota tried to place it.
"Do your diplomatic duties frequently call you away from Andoria's capital?" she asked. Her Andorian professor at Starfleet had explained that a lengthy residency in Andorian rural areas sometimes affected the flatter sounds of the language.

"Yes; much of our work is done off-planet now."

Curious, Nyota tried to keep the man talking, gathering enough of the sounds of his speech in her memory so that she could place his accent. The linguist part of her was distracted by his speech. Perhaps regional language variations on the planet of Andoria were more pronounced than she realized. She eventually stopped trying to engage him in conversation, lest she annoy the man with too many questions.

With a collective sigh, her crewmates turned back to her. "Glad that's over with. Have Spock and Sarek been released yet?" McCoy scanned the crowd.

Sulu spotted them. "Looks like they're in the clear." Father and son approached them from the other side of the room.

Sarek looked tired, and for the first time since Nyota had known him, frustrated.
"Gentlemen, ko-fu Nyota, I am being released for lack of evidence...for now. I hope that this disturbing situation will not bring our efforts to a halt. Coridia's application to join the Federation must still be considered, despite everything."

"Perhaps we can take you home immediately, Osu Sarek," she said gently. Her eyes met Spock's; he seemed slightly stunned, and only inclined his head in agreement. Locating T'voria and a few other people she knew in the crowd, she raised a hand in a farewell gesture.

Sulu and Scotty flanked Sarek as the Enterprise crew walked out of the Parliament Building, attempting to distract him with conversation about Starfleet. Some distance behind them, McCoy reviewed the evening with Nyota.

"Can't say that this is the most cheerful evening I've ever spent, but it's been mighty eventful. Are you doing all right, Ny? Folks ain't exactly in love with humans on this planet, are they?"

"Thanks for asking, Len. Things could be worse," Nyota shrugged. "Some have made me very welcome."

"Your Vulcan friend - T'voria, right? - she's nice," McCoy said to Nyota. "Do you know if she has a military background, or if she ever had any serious accidents with fire?"

"I don't think so. From what she's told me about herself, no to both questions," Nyota replied, suddenly curious. No military mementoes or holo images had been displayed in T'voria's home. "It didn't occur to me to ask her; our conversations are usually about other things. Why do you ask?"

"Her hypertrophic facial scar - I'm sorry, that must sound very rude. As a doctor, I notice such things when I meet someone. Never mind."

Jim spoke in a low voice to Spock "Listen, I've got your back. I'm going to do whatever's necessary to help your father. I'm a country boy; I'm used to getting out of scrapes. I know how to climb a barbed-wire fence, and I'll get you out of this mess if I can."

Jim's use of allegory was illogical, but Spock understood the Captain's kind intentions."Thank you, Jim. It is possible that my father will be cleared of all suspicion, but if not...I am open to listening to your 'country boy' ideas."

Sietla, Sarek's burly valet, walked ahead, retrieved Sarek's transport vehicle, and stood waiting next to it.

There's someone likely to know Vulcan martial arts, Jim thought, and glanced at Spock. "You ever run a complete background check on that big guy?"

"Affirmative. I have found no indication that Sietla has any disloyalty to New Vulcan or to my father as an individual."

"Right. We need to talk in the morning, Spock. I'll meet with the crew later tonight. Keep your communicator nearby."

...

McCoy gave a few quiet words of advice for stress reduction to Sarek before closing the door to the transport and stepping back. The Enterprise men watched the vehicle drive away with Sarek, Sietla, Spock, and Nyota inside, then turned and looked at each other.

"The game's afoot," Scotty said. "Shall we, chaps?"

"This is a small city. Somebody's gonna talk, sooner or later," replied Sulu. "Too bad we can't get Ny to translate some of the talking for us, but we'll figure it out. I'm carrying a universal translator."

Jim crossed his arms, a slightly cocky grin spreading across his face. "Keep it legal, guys, and remember the Prime Directive. Phasers?"

"Got 'em," Sulu replied. "Don't expect to use 'em, but I'm ready."

Len shook his head. "Damnation. Jim, if this little jaunt you have planned ain't a 'fact-finding' mission, I want to hear it now."

"Don't worry. We're only planning to walk the main streets of the capital and eavesdrop a little, maybe ask a few questions, make some observations. We aren't the only foreign visitors taking in the New Vulcan sights. "

Scotty patted McCoy's shoulder. "We won't get crawled into any trouble, Len. As the Captain said, we only mean to walk, look, and listen, and we'll see you back at the guesthouse in a couple of hours. Besides, I've got chocolate to deliver to that Vulcan musician; p'raps it'll improve his love life a wee bit."

...
Sponging away the stress and dust of New Vulcan with warm water in soothing herbal preparations had been somewhat helpful during Nyota's previous hours on New Vulcan, but tonight it did little for either her or Spock. He meditated; she prayed. Exhausted, they sprawled across the large bed. On this night they did not nestle cozily into spoons; instead, Spock sought comfort, his chin resting on Nyota's shoulder, his body stretched alongside hers while she embraced him. Calming thoughts flowed from her mind to his as their skin touched. Nyota wore a light, sleeveless gown; Spock lay nude beside her.

"Easy," she murmured. "Rest easy, sweetheart."

"I do not understand why I, and now my father, are suddenly made to feel like outsiders in a place we work to rebuild." There was bleakness in his voice.

"It isn't you or Sarek; someone has a problem, their problem, and they think it's easy to push their problem on you. They are mistaken. Don't try to solve this problem tonight. It will be waiting for you in the morning. Sleep, regain your strength." Nyota draped one leg over Spock's to increase the skin contact, and concentrated more on sharing a sense of steady calm with him.

"It is difficult to belong anywhere," he sighed.

"So I've noticed these past two days."

"I am always at home in our life together, tal-kam." He pressed his lips to her temple. "We will resolve this and have at least one pleasurable day here together, if it is in my power."

"Yes," she said, although she wondered if it were possible. "I trust you. Rest now."

Nyota felt Spock's heavy body relax into a kind of meditative slumber. The emotional stress of the past two days claimed her soon after. Nyota tumbled into unsettling dreams of unlocked doors, Vulcans, Tellarites, and Andorians mumbling at each other, and camels wandering through winding hallways.

Ten hours later

Sunlight poured into the large, airy shared parlor of the guesthouse where the Enterprise crew members were staying on New Vulcan. Leonard McCoy woke early for a solitary breakfast. Then he settled into the most comfortable chair he could find, letting the warmth of the sun seep into his body. He wanted to make the best of his uninterrupted quiet time to review his notes from conversations with Sarek, in addition to some current medical research on Vulcan cardiology.

Leonard was, as Spock might say, ninety-eight point nine percent certain that Sarek's symptoms were related to his heart. The appointment with Sarek was still some hours away, but he wanted to be prepared to help as best he could.

The front door opened and shut. McCoy turned around and saw Jim Kirk entering the room, still wearing in his Starfleet dress uniform jacket.

"Welcome back, stranger. Y'know, it's sunrise. Are you just getting in?"

"I was talking to someone," Jim said.

"I'll just bet you were. What's her name?"

Jim only smiled and shook his head in a 'no' gesture.

"All right, then what's his name?"

Jim smiled and shook his head 'no' again.

"Okay, what are their names?"

Laughing, Jim pulled off his jacket, lay back on the couch and kicked off his boots. "I wasn't that lucky last night. Believe it or not, I was gathering data on behalf of the Federation. I want this nasty business of the attack on Gav solved, dealt with, and to see justice done. So you already know that I went out on the town - such town as there is here on New Vulcan - with Scotty and Sulu. We found a sort of underground nightclub - dancing, drinking, lots of loud emotion. Not typical Vulcan stuff. We asked a few questions, had a few drinks. I left early to uh, talk privately with someone. I guess the guys are still asleep, huh?"

"Sulu's in the courtyard working out. I'm not sure about Scotty."

Sulu returned from the courtyard, wiping his face and neck with a towel. The air was already growing warm; a light veil of sweat covered his lean belly and his muscular arms and legs.

"Morning, guys. Bones, I guess Jim told you what we did last night?"

The next chapter details what the Enterprise men - including Jim - got up to the night before.

Every city has its own nightlife, and New Vulcan was no exception. Infinite diversity in infinite combination was a grand, complex philosophy broad enough to include some Vulcans' desire to enjoy music, dance, and occasional boisterous social interactions with beings both similar to and different from themselves.

Surak himself might have raised an eyebrow, and then shrugged tolerantly at some of the smiles and other emotional expression beneath the dim lights of Mu-yor Uralau. The clandestine nightclub had a Vulcan name, loosely translated by off-worlders and Standard language speakers as night sing, or Lullaby. It catered to Vulcans with rogue emotions and the many off-world temporary workers on New Vulcan.

McCoy, grumbling that he couldn't risk his doctor's hands in a bar fight, returned to the guest house. Kirk and Sulu let Scotty lead the way, following directions whispered by the lute player at the reception. Lullaby was tucked away down a side street, its unmarked door shielded by a row of tall potted plants.

Two Vulcan bouncers with biceps and thighs like small beer barrels eyed them and requested proof of identity. Then one shone his flashlight on the Federation insignia on Sulu's dress jacket, grinned broadly, and patted Sulu's shoulder with one heavy hand while he told the other guard to allow the Enterprise men immediate entry. Although relieved to know that the Federation was welcome on Vulcan back streets, Sulu wondered if his shoulder might show a little bruising in the morning.

As though powered by a single clockwork, the heads of the nightclub patrons swiveled towards the Enterprise men. Some eyes widened, others narrowed, a few - humans - winked. Adobe walls and dim lighting made the room seem like a hospitable cave. The walls were decorated with wood carvings and images of customers enjoying themselves on previous nights inside Lullaby. The men found a round stone table surrounded by big, square cushions and sat down.

"Not bad. This is kind of a classy place," Jim said.

"Captain, I wouldnae risk our safety in a dive. Not that I have any problem with dives, as the bartenders tend to pour with a heavy hand - but New Vulcan, for all of its apparent stability, is an unknown quantity. I requested that he meet me in a place patronized by foreigners."

"I've been in worse clubs," Sulu shrugged. He glanced around; nobody seemed drunk, although more than tea was obviously on offer. Patrons talked or moved to slow music on the modestly sized dance floor. A Vulcan waiter greeted them in Standard, handed them small digital menus, and departed, turning to give Sulu a lingering glance.

"Hikaru, ye have made a conquest," chuckled Scotty.

"Really? I think that he was sizing me up," Sulu replied, unsure of how to read the man's lack of expression. He surveyed the room again and located two additional exits.

"All right, Scotty. What do you expect to find in this place?" asked Jim as they tapped their drink selections into the menus. A persistent sense of uncertainty caused Sulu order a drink in a sealed bottle.

"That musician I promised chocolate to, for one. He's not shown up yet. As for the rest, we must be sociable, have a bevvy, circulate and ask questions."

Mirrored panels and colored lights appeared on the ceiling. The music changed to a song with a steady, rocking beat and compelling rhythm.

"Before I get to socializing, I'm going to show my appreciation for their DJ's good taste." Scotty headed for the dance floor to dance happily alone, followed shortly by Sulu. Jim grinned and shook his head in response to Sulu's inquiring smile. He hadn't loosened up enough yet to feel like dancing, and at least one of them needed to pay attention to their surroundings. The drinks arrived quickly; Jim ordered a plate of Vulcan appetizers. Vegetarian, of course.

None of the tension surrounding the Parliament Building had carried over to Lullaby. Scotty and Sulu were burning up the dance floor with a couple of other humans, a violet-skinned person of flexible gender, two Coridians, and one brave young Vulcan man; apparently most Vulcans were more inclined towards slow dances. The clientele seemed to be a mix of working-and-middle class folk with a few diplomatic elites; Jim recognized a few alien guests from the reception. Conversation and a few peals of laughter were audible above the music, which played at a lower volume than an Earth-based club in deference to sensitive Vulcan hearing. No one stared at the Enterprise crew any longer.

Except one.

Jim recognized the Vulcan woman he'd met at the reception; T'seau, her name was, or something like it. He certainly remembered her shapely figure even if he wasn't sure of her name. T'seau sat near a few other Vulcan women, all of them engaged in playing some sort of board game. Her large, dark eyes were fixed on Jim.

Spock had taught him enough about Vulcan culture to make Jim understand that her steady, curious gaze might be considered rude. Jim preferred to believe that she just couldn't help herself, and he'd felt gratified when she had asked Nyota to introduce her at the reception.

McCoy spoke derisively of what he called "Jim's 'aw-shucks-ma'am' country boy routine". Maybe it was unoriginal but it worked. Nobody had turned Jim down yet - even if the person in question had never heard of Iowa.

"Tell me of this Iowa," the elegant Vulcan woman had said at the reception. Like most Vulcans, she held her head and body still, but her eyes moved up and down Jim's chest and legs, lingering at his crotch - well hello, there, ma'am, I'm happy to see you - then back up to his face. A few other people joined the conversation then, and Jim reined in his flirtation, but the nature of the Vulcan woman's interest was clear.

The way she looked at him now suggested that her interest had not faded even after the shock of the attack on Gav and the interrogation by Vulcan security. Maybe he could get her to tell him if she'd heard any gossipy speculation about the attempt on Gav's life, or public opinion of Sarek, some hint of why anyone would want to frame Sarek for attempted murder.

T'seau inclined her head in greeting. Jim let a wicked version of his country boy smile spread across his face. T'seau's eyes widened.

So far, so good. Time to bring out the big guns. Leaning back on one elbow, Jim angled his body and put himself on display. He let his legs, nicely outlined by his well-tailored trousers, part slightly.

T'seau's mouth opened; she held her drink in mid-air.

Jim took a small, olive-like vegetable from the appetizer tray and slowly slid it into his mouth while holding T'seau's gaze. He rolled the little green globe on his tongue for a moment.

T'seau nearly dropped her drink.

Before he chewed the little vegetable and washed it down, Jim held up his drink in a gesture of salute, then lowered his lips to the rim and drank, still looking at her. The sudden return of Sulu and Scotty broke their shared gaze.

"Scotty, I didn't know that you were such a good dancer." Jim teased.

The engineer paused in mid-drink and looked offended. "I am from Edinborough, as ye well know. I have spent a good amount of time in London, Manchester, Chicago, Atlanta, and Washington, D.C., thank ye very much. Obviously ye need to travel more. Of course I know how to dance!"

"Hey, you're braver than I am when it comes to dancing, man. Same for you, Sulu; you never met a dance floor you didn't like."

Sulu rolled his eyes. "Don't start, Jim. I told you that I went to high school in Oakland, and I used to win the call-in music trivia contest on the ship's entertianment comm channels regularly...until Len started beating me at it."

"Now that we've convinced everyone we're only out for a good time tonight, let's start questioning the locals," Jim said, glancing over at T'seau.

Sulu nodded. "I'll ask that human couple how welcome they feel on planet. Spock's hinted at how his being half-human continues to be problem for some Vulcans. His being partnered with Nyota may add to any previous bias against Sarek for marrying a human woman."

Scotty looked towards the door. "That chocolate-craving musician has arrived." He opened the flap of the small satchel he carried, keeping it out of sight below the edge of the table. "Time to do business, and get a little information in exchange."

"I may step out for a little while, but I've got a tracking device on the waistband of my trousers." Jim stood, looking over towards T'seau, who had left her friends' table and moved to a smaller table by herself.

"Ah, Jim, ye are so predictable. I could set the chronometers on the Enterprise by ye," sighed Scotty, "but if your approach works, I will not scold ye for it."

"Too bad he didn't glue that tracking device to his ass," muttered Sulu as Jim approached T'seau. "His trousers may not stay on long enough to help us find him."

"That woman he's after...she's Vulcan," Scotty said curiously.

"Yeah. And he's Jim."

"As a first-time visitor, I'm curious about what it's like to live on New Vulcan." Conversation was one of Jim's great talents and he soon put T'seau at ease. He managed to say little about himself or the Enterprise beyond what appeared in Federation publicity media.

Perhaps it was unfair to distract her by leaning forward in his chair and smiling directly at her while she answered his questions on general subjects. Jim rested his elbows on his knees so that his clasped hands hovered close to T'seau's knees, which parted slightly as she fell under the spell of his presence.

Morose, the Vulcan lute player complained to Scotty. "My prowess as a musician attracts the attention of many. However, tension occasionally makes it difficult to demonstrate one's prowess in other areas." He looked at the packages of chocolate inside the small bag Scotty had given him.

"There is nae shame in needin' a wee bit of personal encouragement. P'raps ye can use it sparingly and soon relax enough t'please yer lady without it."

Shaking his head sadly, the musician broke off another piece of chocolate and stuffed it into his mouth.

"Whoa there, mon. Slow down a bit, ye need time to accustom yerself tae that chocolate!"

"It is no trouble," the musician assured him as he munched away. "At one time my tolerance for chocolate was quite high. During my travels on Earth I had little need for artificial stimulation in intimate situations. My transition to New Vulcan is difficult. Chocolate is not forbidden here but imports are carefully monitored; we wish to prevent addiction among our people. If it were not for my present difficulty, I would avoid this temptation completely." He sighed. "Thank you, Osu Scott. The exchange of a mere two song requests at the party is uneven. I owe you more."

"Answers to a few questions about people in this city would be a fair exchange. Tell me a few things, and we'll call it done. What say ye?"

"So just what is the general opinion of public figures such as, for example, Sarek?" Jim asked, rolling his shoulders as though suddenly uncomfortable. "Pardon me, MissT'seau, but would you mind terribly if I unbuttoned my jacket? It's not exactly a good fit for this climate, and -" he smiled at her - "I feel a bit hot."

T'seau took a deep breath, bit her lip, and answered, "I certainly find it acceptable; I am not always as formal as other Vulcans. Please, be comfortable. You may address me as simply T'seau, if you like."

Maintaining eye contact while his fingers moved down the row of buttons, Jim shed the jacket with a roll of his broad shoulders. He wore a close-fitting black Starfleet issue t-shirt underneath. T'seau made a little "Mmm" sound, and then caught herself, biting her lip. It was a very soft looking and nicely shaped lip, and made Jim wonder why Vulcans were so fond of finger kissing.

"Generally speaking," Jim said conversationally as he draped his jacket over his chair, "would you say Sarek is popular?" He managed to move a tiny bit closer to her, his bare forearm within touching distance of T'seau's hands. She stared at his chest as she began to answer.

"Yes, Sarek's wisdom and experience appeal to many. Some Vulcans exhibited temporary xenophobic behavior during the first year following the destruction of our planet. Sarek and others made speeches asking us to remember the importance of IDIC to our future. Vulcans will find it difficult to survive if we create barriers between ourselves and other planets. Most Vulcans understand this now, and have returned to living in agreement with IDIC; we accept off-worlders. Spock, although half-human, is also well respected by many, in a professional sense. Spock's friends and supporters tend to be friends of his father. I do not know if he has many personal friends on New Vulcan." She thought for a moment, and continued.

"I have heard few members of the diplomatic class say that Sarek does not show enough loyalty to Vulcans as a group, that he misinterprets IDIC. I disagree. I am interested in befriending off worlders," she said, looking at Jim. "Very interested."

"I'm pleased to hear that, and not just because I'm with the Federation." Jim gave her a slow, sexy smile. T'seau's eyelashes fluttered.

Sulu's conversation with a tipsy human couple, who were relaxing with fruit wine following their work shift at a water filtration plant, suggested that humans and other non-Vulcans lived fairly peaceful lives on the new colony. Though seen as outsiders, they feared no aggression in public places, and their Vulcan neighbors and colleagues were polite, if not always quick to befriend them.

"Most off worlders would tell you the same. There's that philosophy of theirs, you know IDIC? Vulcans are interested in knowing different people. There's some as won't bother with humans much but they're mostly all right. Socializing is rare, at least where we live. I'm glad for places like the Lullaby. The atmosphere's right; they don't tolerate bias here. Like that Orion guy next to us, people wouldn't pick on him about his background in this place." The man drunkenly clapped a hand over the tender part of Sulu's shoulder, making Sulu grit his teeth. "You Federation guys picked the right place."

Keeping his expression neutral, he nodded in agreement. "It does seem mellow." He politely extricated himself from the couple's boozy conversation and glanced over at the Orion man, who was pretending not to watch him. Perhaps he'd overhead the human man discussing him. Sulu approached and extended his hand. "Hey, how's it going?"

The Orion hesitated, and then extended a well muscled arm for a quick handshake. Sulu felt familiar calluses on the man's hand; a smooth thickness along the thumb and index finger from gripping handles and repetitively pushing buttons; a certain flatness along the opposite side along the edge of his palm and his little finger, gained from resting one's hands on a control panel. Pilot's hands, like his own.

Freelance pilot? Or a pilot in training here on New Vulcan, perhaps? Sulu had had Orion classmates at Starfleet, Gaila among them. Thinking fast, Sulu aimed a few general questions at the Orion man, asking about New Vulcan and city life. The man's gaze darted around the room as he gave imprecise responses. Obviously, he didn't want to talk to Sulu. Soon he excused himself and left.

Sulu ordered another drink and settled down alone at the table, surreptitiously using his communicator to contact the navigational team he managed on the Enterprise and request a database search for registered Orion pilots. Finishing, he glanced around the room. Where was Scotty?

Swaying to the music, the Vulcan musician snapped his fingers and moved his shoulders.

"...and that is what I know of Sarek at this time. He is respected. Public opinion of Coridians and others varies. Tellarites may not be popular, but Vulcans do not resolve conflicts with secretive violence." He popped another chunk of the rich, dark chocolate into his mouth and hummed.

"Seriously, lad, it's high time ye put those chockies away now and hurried home to yer lady friend."

"Is it not good to be prepared?" the musician asked with a grin. He stood up and began dancing next to the table.

Jim wondered if T'seau was attempting to resist his advances by speaking of dry philosophical matters, then decided she was truly passionate about IDIC.

"Intelligent, empathetic beings are willing to learn throughout life. On New Vulcan, we must be willing to accept the help of other beings and also to think of ways to help them in turn. Through such actions, we preserve IDIC and we preserve ourselves."

"That's a brilliant philosophy, Miss T'seau." Jim idly stroked his chest with the fingers of one hand.

"It is logical to provide the greatest possible safety and health to the greatest number. My response to your question was tangential in nature." T'seau's gaze followed Jim's fingers. "Yes, Sarek is popular. I did not understand why anyone would suspect him. Sarek has much influence, but he does not lead New Vulcan. Perhaps someone is jealous of his ability to affect political decisions and public opinion."

"I hope for a quick resolution. As for being an off worlder, I've been treated well since I arrived, even though I'm human. T'seau, I like you."

"Oh." As Jim shifted positions, she raised her gaze from below his waist. "I find your company agreeable as well. It is unusual for some human men to spend this much time speaking with a woman, is it not?"

"I like women." Jim beamed at her.

"That is not what I meant. You appear to enjoy my company, although I am a woman."

For a moment, Jim dropped the act. "Yeah, I do. You're interesting. I've never had such a long conversation with a Vulcan woman."

"I have met human men before and I had the impression that some find female minds inferior and our conversation tedious."

"Honestly, I disagree. I find most women intelligent, and observant. I prefer having a bridge crew with plenty of women because they notice things that I don't, and they multitask. I'm sorry that those human men you met weren't nice to you; you're beautiful and smart and you deserve better."

"Thank you, but I am also dishonest. Perhaps you suspect that my interest in you goes beyond conversation."

Jim winked at her. "Yes, ma'am. I was counting on it."

T'seau's face spread into a pretty, though startled, smile. "You appeal strongly to my sense of vanity."

"I'm willing to appeal to any senses you got, ma'am."

"Why do you so often use this term, "ma'am" ?"

"As you know, it's a polite form of address. I could call you by your first name instead, as you asked. But I think you like it when I say it to you, when I defer to you...ma'am."

T'seau was unable to suppress another smile. "Am I so obvious? Let us speak honestly. Captain Kirk, I am not a...'nice' or chaste Vulcan woman."

Jim laid the country boy routine on thick. "You seem mighty nice to me. Ain't nothing wrong with letting a guy know you like him."

Unconsciously, T'seau slid a finger below the neckline of her dress. "If we continue this conversation...privately at some point, it will please me greatly if you continue to speak in this Iowa fashion."

"Yes, ma'am. " Jim wiped a suddenly sweaty hand over the leg of his trousers, which now felt too tight in the front.

Imagine that; hearing a man talking as though he'd just come in from working in the back forty was a turn-on for a well-off, independent lady on a world as far from Iowa as one could get. He wasn't complaining.

"Right, that's enough, mate. Put it away before someone notices!" Scotty lunged for the bag of candy, but the giggling musician snatched it out of the way and shoved him. His intent was playful, but in his chocolate-addled state he was not mindful of his strength. Scotty sprawled across the table, sliding across its smooth surface and knocking two glasses to the floor. Other patrons turned to stare. Sulu heard the ruckus and put his communicator away. One of the brawny Vulcan bouncers strode across the room.

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?"

"No, not at all! The fellow was joking with me and forgot that his strength exceeds mine, 'tis nothing more."

The Vulcan musician spread his arms wide. "Give me a hug," he shouted at the bouncer. Pieces of chocolate dropped from the package in his hand onto the tile floor, cracking into small pieces near the bouncer's toes.

Scotty looked up at the bouncer from his awkward position on the table. Sulu reached his side and held up both hands in a placating gesture.

"I can explain," both men said simultaneously.

"Do so. Please," the blank-faced bouncer replied. "Are you aware that the use of chocolate is not generally approved of on New Vulcan?"

Sliding off the table, Scotty stood with an erect officer's bearing. "As much of the city has no doubt heard by now, the Federation ship Enterprise sent us to attend the series of diplomatic meetings at the Vulcan Parliament. I brought this chocolate with the intention of sharing it with other delegates, as an example of one of Earth's finest products." He sighed and let his shoulders slump. "Ever since I was a wee bairn, me Mam always suggested that I take along a wee gift when meeting new folk, as a means of makin' friends."

As Scotty's brogue thickened, Sulu studied the floor tiles, fighting guilty laughter. Jim had his country boy act, and Scotty had his humble Scots lad act; Sulu didn't use any such acts himself, and that made it difficult to keep a straight face when he observed someone else putting it on.

"Tonight's unfortunate attack on the Tellarite delegate ended that party early, and the chocolate did not see its intended use tonight." Not exactly a lie, he thought. "This musician played some nice songs at the party, and I offered the chocolate to him. I had nae idea of its quick and powerful effect! Chocolate puts me in a good mood...but never as good a mood as he's in now," the engineer finished, watching the Vulcan musician as he giggled, wobbled, and fainted into the bouncer's arms. "I am very sorry, gentlemen."

"Understood," the bouncer sighed. Two tall Vulcan waiters appeared, picked the musician up, and carried him into a back room. "He is well known here, and this behavior is unlike him. Melancholy is his typical demeanor. We will contact his friends and see him safely home."

"Aye, that's a relief. Forgive me for disturbing the peace of this fine establishment. I do hope this willna reflect poorly on the Federation. 'Twas intended to smooth over the rough parts of this evening."

"Imperfection is part of many interactions between beings. I will not hold you for arrest for either disturbing the peace or illegal importation. Nor will I ban you from Lullaby, but please refrain from all future unsanctioned distribution of chocolate and non-native substances on New Vulcan."

"Terribly sorry, and thank ye for understanding. Er, p'raps we'll move on now, eh Sulu?"

"Right." The human couple Sulu had spoken with mentioned other restaurants and clubs where off-worlders congregated. His communicator vibrated and he glanced at its screen.

Going to talk private w Vulcan lady. Meet me out side

"I need to start placing cash bets on Jim; I could retire early," Sulu sighed. He thanked the Vulcan bouncer and gave Scotty a meaningful look as they headed for the exit. "Kirk. Woman."

Scotty rolled his eyes. "It takes a long spoon tae sup with Vulcans, but the Captain has thrown away the spoon."

A cheerful-looking Jim awaited them in the street; the Vulcan woman stood some distance away.

Speaking quietly he said, "Listen, guys, I need to go and talk privately with T'seau - that's her name - at her home."

"No, Jim. We just left a reception where at least one of the guests is not what they seem. Not safe," countered Sulu.

"She is bonny but ye do not know her well enough to go tae her flat alone."

"If I required a background check every time I wanted to get down with somebody, I'd never - okay, I'll go somewhere semi-public with her, or something. Thing is, she can't really be seen with me in a typical Vulcan establishment and I'm not bringing her back to the guesthouse with all of your prying ears."

"You could sit in the transport vehicle and talk to her, or go to another off worlders' club."

"Good idea, Sulu, we'll do both things. Done, and done."

Scotty mumbled something. "What?" Jim asked.

"And how are we to get back to the guesthouse if ye get inspired and leave us stranded?"

Sulu laughed. "We can always rent camels."

The sensuality of the New Vulcan night surprised Jim. The night air was warm enough to be comfortable, and tall blooming plants perfumed the broad streets. Small groups of pedestrians and camels passed the small vehicle rented for the visit to New Vulcan.

T'seau was that rare thing, a Vulcan woman with some degree of independence. Jim couldn't guess her age, but she told him she was single. She shared a home in a well-kept neighborhood with a cousin, who she explained was away working on construction projects in rural settlements.

"This park is sees enough foot traffic to be safe," she said as they sat beneath the spreading branches of a treelike plant. "Off-worlders come here frequently, as I do myself. There is no need for you to be concerned about being observed, or overheard if we...make noise."

"I'll be quiet," he said, smiling at her. "I wouldn't want to do anything to make you uncomfortable."

"You are considerate," T'seau said.

"I do try to be."

Jim Kirk loved sex. In other news, water is wet.

Jim thought that sex should not be a mere spectator sport. He wasn't always very interested in watching holos of it, which puzzled some of his friends. Jim appreciated opportunities for visual stimulation, but the activity itself appealed to him more powerfully.

Someday, he'd learn how to handle the volatile combination of emotions and sex. He'd tried talking to his partners more and listening carefully. Jim had even secretively made appointments with a Starfleet therapist, but the frequent suggestions that he reflect upon his past disturbed him; he didn't always like what he found there. However, he was willing to practice better communication with partners, as long as there were some opportunities to communicate in bed.

Despite his efforts, he still found himself hearing the angry words, "You just don't understand, Jim!"

His honest reply, "You're right. I don't understand," led to shouts and ducking the padd thrown soon after at his head.

It wasn't that Jim didn't care about his partners; he tried hard to ensure that the pleasure was mutual, and he loved the tease of foreplay and the intimate conversations of afterglow. People spoke so much more freely after you'd just given them a screaming climax, and he found the conversations interesting. Unfortunately, Starfleet responsibilities complicated relationships, and he couldn't pursue sexual flings with his Enterprise crew. Rumor had it that his reputation was so bad that no crew would easily take a chance on him anyway.

Jim believed that if he ever fell in love with a crewmate he would strive to love them back, to protect them from gossip and danger. Less than two years into the mission, he'd had to discipline seven different crew members for their mutterings about Spock and Uhura, warning the gossips about damaging crew morale. Starfleet life involved danger and sorrow, and he wondered why some people couldn't let go of their biases and leave a rare and beautiful thing alone. The galaxies held enough suspicion, hatred, and divisiveness already. Why to add to it?

Jim observed a certain softness in Spock's expression when he looked at Nyota as they left the bridge together at the end of a shift. At such times Jim delayed his invitations to Spock suggesting a game of 3-D chess for at least two hours, knowing his messages would go unreturned while the couple stood close together on the Observation Deck or disappeared into private quarters.

It must be very reassuring to have at least one steady, caring person who looked at you so tenderly. Jim wanted to know what it felt like. He was ready to try, almost. Problem was, he couldn't figure out who would put up with him for more than a few months.

He looked over at T'seau, knowing that she was as emotionally uninvolved in this encounter as he was, perhaps even less, but he thought her attractive.

"Do you think...would you let me touch your hands?" he asked, almost shyly.

"You know of the ozh'esta? That happens between bondmates. For those who pursue solely recreational pleasures, mouth kisses or variations of the finger kiss are common."

"Uh...variations?"

"I will demonstrate." T'seau touched his arm and raised Jim's open hand to press against hers. "Only telepathic beings tend to find this exciting. If you desire it, I could attempt to touch your mind with my own."

Normally adventurous, Jim felt himself retreat, uneasily. "Huh. That seems so -personal. I don't know if I can do that."

T'seau smiled. "Mind contact often lacks appeal among beings unaccustomed to it. We may indulge in the more 'normal' forms of skin contact, instead."

Not in a public park while wearing a Federation dress uniform, he wasn't. But Jim wasn't ready to give up completely. "Kiss? On the mouth?"

T'seau agreed.

It wasn't so bad, getting partially undressed and making out in the shadows of a public park, even if Jim was the one who did the undressing. They kissed and touched and rolled over some sort of soft grasslike plants, finally taking a break to talk.

Vulcan names were difficult for Jim to differentiate, but he figured out from T'seau's conversation that some elite Vulcans disliked Sarek while others blamed off worlders, and others still didn't care who was in charge as long as they could obtain some personal wealth from their loyalty. Greed was common on any planet. Jim asked for the name of the woman T'seau described as greedy again, to make sure that he heard it clearly, filing it away as a question for Spock. Then he distracted T'seau again by launching into a line of sweet talk about her hands, and where he wished she would place them on his body.

Sleep clouded Nyota's thoughts, making her wonder why she was back inside the transport vehicle outside the Parliament Building. As she awoke she smelled the same slightly piquant fragrance of the flowering trees that had shielded her and Spock from inquisitive eyes the night before.

The feeling of smooth cloth against her bare legs reminded her that she was in bed, not spread out on the plush seats of the vehicle and shamelessly lifting her hips to meet the glide and stroke of Spock's hands. Something soft and cool brushed her fingers as she extended one hand. Opening her eyes, she saw flowers above her. One thick dark purple petal detached itself and landed on her forehead. She rolled onto her belly and looked at the blossom-laden branches gathered in a large vase on the bedside table. The other side of the bed was empty. Spock had provided flowers to greet her this morning in his stead.

Smiling, Nyota propped herself up on one elbow and looked at the flowers. She'd once read about an old Polish wedding custom of braiding a crown of rosemary, representing love, wisdom, remembrance, and fidelity, for a bride to wear on her head. She quietly mentioned it in passing to Spock as they passed a large rosemary bush on Starfleet's campus. Going beyond cultural anthropology, she'd admitted that she thought that it might be a wonderful, sensual indulgence to wake up next to sweet-smelling plants the morning after. He'd barely responded, and she had accepted it as one more sign that they held different opinions about certain aspects of romance. Now she was reminded of his potent memory as she looked at the branch bouquet. It was illogical to remove branches from a flowering plant for the frivolous rationale of sensual pleasure, but he had done it anyway.

Their bond was active, but muted; she sensed Spock reviewing a document about diplomatic protocol somewhere inside the large house. He was calm, preoccupied.

Relieved, Nyota closed the bond and said a quick prayer of gratitude. Seemingly no harm had come to Sarek or anyone else overnight. She finished and opened the bond and her eyes again, appreciating the flowers and enjoying the smooth texture of the sheets against the areas of her skin laid bare by her gown, which had ridden up around her waist. When one had spent months aboard a starship, it took some time to become acclimated to a warmer climate such as New Vulcan. She would rise soon, and make the best of the cool early morning.

The outer door of the suite opened, and Nyota looked over her shoulder. Spock appeared in the doorway, fully dressed.

"Ha'tha ti'lu, beloved,"she said.

"Good morning, tal-kam. Please do not move yet," he said as she began to turn over so that she could sit up. Nyota cast him a questioning look over her shoulder.

"When you reopened the bond a moment ago, I sensed that you took pleasure in the feeling of the cloth against your exposed skin," Spock said softly. "It distracted me sufficiently that I desired to see it for myself." His gaze moved over the uncovered curves of her backside, lower back, and her legs. "I have neglected you."

"I don't feel neglected. We've both had serious things to think about, and your father is in trouble. "

Spock sighed and leaned against the doorjamb. "The troubles we have encountered during this visit cause me to desire more distractions than usual, Nyota."

"We'll have our time together, later. Is Sarek well?"

"I found him awake and seated at the table with tea and a stack of padds and documents early this morning. He avoided responding to my inquiry about how well he rested. All diplomatic meetings at Parliament are postponed until further notice and the release of a report from New Vulcan Security forces. Later this afternoon he will have an appointment with Doctor McCoy."

Nyota quickly climbed off the bed and walked over to him. "What's wrong? Did all of the trouble last night make him feel sick? Is it stress, or something else?"

"Yesterday my father alluded to feeling ill. Today he informed me that he has not been completely well for some weeks. He contacted Dr. McCoy because the few Vulcan doctors in the city are in constant demand. Thinking it best to put the needs of the general population first, Sarek made use of his Federation connections and previous knowledge of Dr. McCoy's experience in xenobiology to request an examination."

Gently, she stroked his face. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry. I know that there's little we can do until he tells you what's wrong, but when he does speak about it, please let me in. Let me help. You know that I care for your father."

Spock closed his eyes and pressed his cheek into the palm of her hand. "For that, I thank you, and I cherish you." He opened his eyes. "Sarek has asked me to give him a few hours alone to meditate before Dr. McCoy arrives. You say that I have not neglected you, but I disagree. We have spent little time alone together since our arrival. Please allow me to show you New Vulcan as I know it; come to the Botanical Gardens and the Cultural Institute with me."

Nyota smiled. "Spock, are you asking me on a date?"

"Indeed, I am. Please excuse the lack of advance notice." He kissed her forehead. "Is your schedule full?"

"For you, angel, today's open. I want to share my day with you. Give me thirty minutes to shower and dress."

"Perhaps thirty-two point five, based upon past experience?"

"Spock, it only takes that long when you're watching and you try to 'help' me put my underwear on. Ooh, how nice, it's been too long since I saw that half-smile."

"It has been far too long since I saw your full smile."

"Let's keep trying, sweetheart. On a different note...I want to try the camels again this week. We were pretty distracted during that hike. I'd like to leave New Vulcan feeling...camel-competent."

"An interesting turn of phrase. It is more precise than the word 'fun', I suppose. Agreed, Nyota. We may develop some proficiency in camel riding this week, circumstances permitting."

Sulu stepped out of the shower and saw message lights flashing on both his communicator and padd. Quickly reviewing the messages, he saw that the database search conducted by his staff turned up a few dozen licensed Orion pilots known to the Federation. The whereabouts of several Orion pilots remained unknown, including one last known to be active within New Vulcan's galactic sector and using several pseudonyms. The Orion he'd met last night had avoided saying his name.

Unfortunately, nobody knew where that Orion male was now, which was unsurprising; his background included a few convictions for smuggling, piracy, and other questionable activities. The database image of him was indistinct, its pixels blurred.

None of it added up to a reason to murder Gav, at least not in a way that made sense to Sulu.

Sulu pulled on his one of his most well-cut casual shirts and trousers that flattered his strong legs. Maybe there was something to learn from Jim's crude approach to seductive intelligence gathering. Sulu still had a few questions to ask, and he might as well provide some visual distraction.

The Cultural Center of New Vulcan, capital city

Mid-morning

Spock was not always expressionless, something which became obvious if one paid close attention. Nyota saw hints of sadness, resignation, and finally calm acceptance move across his face while they explored the small collection displayed inside the Cultural Center of New Vulcan. Among the artifacts rescued from planetary destruction and items donated by diasporic Vulcans living on various planets, there were several pieces donated by relatives of Spock's late mother, Amanda; typical family gifts of Vulcan artwork, textiles, and household objects. Wishing to help Vulcans preserve their cultural memory, many of Amanda's relatives donated or loaned their own treasured mementos to the Cultural Center.

Nyota looked at an elegantly tapered vase, glazed in a deep shade of blue; one of Amanda's favorite colors, she remembered. "It seems right that these gifts found their way here. Your mother was always so kind. She gave so much during her life, and she continues to give through these objects."

"I was reluctant to come here and see these objects during my first few visits to New Vulcan," Spock admitted quietly. "Now I accept it. Any sense of personal loss I feel is tempered by my appreciation for the generosity of the Grayson family, and the acceptance of their gifts by the Vulcan people."

A growing archive of recorded interviews and other media described the way Vulcan had looked, sounded, and felt; cultural preservationists interviewed new subjects every week in an attempt to capture memories of their old home. Spock and Nyota decided to browse the interview collection some time in the future.

The small size of the Cultural Center's entire collection shortened the couple's visit, and they decided to move on to the Botanical Gardens early in order to escape the hottest hours of the day.

"I have been told that the historians wish to interview us as well," Spock said as they descended the Cultural Institute's broad double staircase.

"You and Sarek?"

"No. Us. Despite the initial lack of welcome shown to you by certain citizens, the majority are curious. Some ask me about you when I travel here alone. Did you not notice Vulcan passerby staring as we walked here?"

"Weren't those stares of disapproval? I was doing my best not to notice." Nyota had tried to keep her face calm and avoided looking back at the faces turning to look at them, although she couldn't help herself from smiling at a few children and elderly people - no teeth showing, of course.

"Your caution is somewhat justified, based upon your unkind treatment by certain biased citizens. However, it is possible that other Vulcans wish to greet or speak with you, but do not know how to approach you without giving offense," Spock replied.

"Oh! I hadn't thought of it that way." Nyota turned the possibility of Vulcan shyness over in her mind, wondering if she appeared unapproachable. Vulcans expected expressionless faces on their own people; perhaps they had assumed she'd look friendlier, like someone they could be emotionally expressive and sociable with, and were disappointed? Not that she was obliged to change herself to meet someone else's idea of what they thought she was. Perhaps she could speak with Sarek and T'voria, who was unusually extroverted for a Vulcan woman, later.

The familiar tone used for contact between the Enterprise bridge crew sounded as they reached the lobby of the Cultural Center. Nyota almost reached for the communicator she'd brought in her shoulder bag, but the signal was for Spock, not her.

Spock listened to the person speaking on his communicator and Nyota browsed a display of furniture to give him privacy. A beautifully carved wooden table sat atop the platform; she walked around it several times, fascinated by the smooth curves and intricate details carved into it. Animals, clouds, and twisting vines carved along the table's legs and sides almost seemed to pulse with life. It had the beauty and seriousness of an heirloom piece, yet the table was obviously new; the smell of recently carved and varnished wood hung in the air around it. Words were carved around the edges of the table in Vulcan and Standard script:

A gift to the people of New Vulcan

made in honor of the lost ones of Vulcan

May we all work together in harmony as we strive to rebuild

INIFINITE DIVERSITY IN INFINITE COMBINATION

This table was carved by Donstelralth with the assistance of his apprentices Serranstivlen and Stelendos

on New Vulcan

Nyota made a note of the name of the talented woodcarver. Spock closed his communicator and approached her.

"Jim has requested that all Enterprise crew meet briefly at the Botanic Gardens. Dr. McCoy will join us briefly before he departs to meet with Sarek. According to Jim, he went 'out on the town' last night with Mr. Sulu and Mr. Scott."

"Uh, oh." Nyota raised an eyebrow.

Spock half-smiled, pleased by how completely natural Nyota's mirroring of his own gestures had become. "The Captain assures me that no one was arrested."

"Yeah, not this time. And the purpose of this meeting is...?"

"Each one of them gathered what he believes is useful information last night; they are making an unsanctioned effort to prove my father's innocence. I suggested that it would be logical to compare our observations and determine what information is useful."

"It's interrupting our date, but I also observed something last night. I want to be included in this discussion."

"Nyota...I am sorry, I did not think -" Spock sighed. "I assure you that I do value our time together. It will take some time for them to join us. We shall have time alone together in the gardens, and I will be protective of our time together after the meeting." He stroked the back of her hand. "You shall even have your camels today, if you wish, tal-kam."

Nyota laughed despite her disappointment. "It must seem as though I'm fixated on those camels, but aren't they fascinating? Their long eyelashes make them look so sweet, yet they seem to have tempers like hot pepper! Don't you find them interesting, in a contrary, illogical way?" she asked as they walked out into the late morning sunlight.

"In all honesty, I find the creatures unnerving and unpredictable. Their tendency to randomly seize mouthfuls of one's clothing is startling. However, I am willing to join you in your quest to understand them."

...

The morning air was still cool and fresh as Hikaru Sulu strode along the city streets. He'd promised his crewmates to return in an hour, saying he had an errand to run alone. Seeking out information alone was probably foolhardy, but it seemed like his best option under the circumstances. His keen navigator's memory served him well as he retraced the path the Enterprise men had taken last night. He recalled a food shop over here, a half-empty lot of used transport vehicles on sale over there.

Sulu kept his shoulders squared, his gait brisk and confident. He pretended indifference to the admiring glances following him. Sulu knew that he was handsome but it had never gone to his head; he wondered why something as simple as a person's looks made people let their guard down, allowing themselves to be charmed and led into risky situations. He wasn't an outrageous flirt like Jim, who joked with mock jealousy that Sulu only had to show up to draw attention to himself. Using sexual attraction to get something from someone seemed a bit wrong to Sulu. When he liked someone, he voiced sincere compliments on beauty, intelligence, or skills and hoped that events would unfold naturally. Now he was about to be insincerely flirtatious. It felt vaguely immoral, as though he were about to pick someone's pocket.

Lullaby, like all nightclubs, seemed reduced in size and glamour in daylight. The front door was firmly shut; the potted plants outside looked dry and dusty. Sulu looked at the communications panel next to the front door, but it was covered by a piece of metal mesh that made it unusable. The street was absolutely silent until a door slammed somewhere in back of the building. Sulu tried to appear casual as he followed the sound.

There was indeed a door in back, but it was also closed and locked; it didn't give when he pressed a hand against it. The vents on the back of the building were too high to look into without attracting attention. Sulu returned to the front of the building, halting suddenly as he came face to face with the Vulcan waiter who had eyed him last night standing near the front door.

The man didn't smile, but he looked vaguely pleased. Sulu pushed back the sunglasses he wore, spearing his fingers with a stroking motion through his thick black hair. More than one lover had complimented Sulu on his hair. A few had begged him to caress their bare skin with it. The man's eyes followed Sulu's fingers and the flexing of Sulu's biceps. He unfolded his own thick arms.

Arrgh. It's tough to fake flirtation with somebody who's probably strong enough to break you in two.

"Greetings," Sulu said. "Maybe you remember me?"

"Could I forget one such as you?"

Figures that a Vulcan would get right to the point. "No more than I could forget someone like you," Sulu managed, a bit nervously. The Vulcan looked just a fraction happier, and Sulu plunged into his questioning. "I wonder if you could tell me about someone else who was here last night." The man's expression went blank, and Sulu thought that his shoulders sagged a little bit. "Not for personal reasons, professional ones. You probably know who I am?"

"Starfleet man, Federation."

"Yes. My name's Hikaru Sulu. I spoke briefly with someone here who, if I understood correctly, has some experience with flying ships. Just had a professional, mechanical question for him, wondered how to get in contact. An Orion."

"Yes, an Orion man comes here sometimes. I do not know his name. He only has come a few times during past month, drinks, does not speak with many." The Vulcan looked at Sulu curiously. "As a foreigner, you seek other foreigners? Or are you social with Vulcans?"

"I'm social with anyone who is peaceful, generally speaking." Sulu saw no need to mention his years of combat and weapons training; being Vulcan, this man might try to involve him in a lengthy debate. Or maybe not.

"Will you return to Lullaby?" the Vulcan asked, almost wistfully. "Do not worry; you and our friends will be admitted despite the unusual incident last night. It provided me and my co-workers with amusing conversation. If you return here, I will purchase you a drink."

"Thank you, I'll consider it." Flirtation, flirtation! "Uh, I'd really like to have a drink with you, but I can't promise you anything. I'm not sure when or if I can return. Do you know that Orion's name or his contact information? Does he work for the space port or anything?"

"I do not have any of this information. I do not think my co-workers know. The Orion speaks little and watches much. As do I. You are aesthetically appealing." The man blurted out the last sentence shyly.

"Thanks. No one's ever complimented me in quite that way before. Sorry, I've got to go deal with some work issues now, but perhaps we'll see each other again." Sulu smiled at the Vulcan. "You are quite aesthetically striking yourself."

The Vulcan stared at Sulu as though he were about to faint under the combined brilliance of the gathering sun and Sulu's smile. Sulu waved goodbye and left, still feeling uneasy.

Kind of odd that no one would learn a regular customer's name. Maybe he paid for his drinks using anonymous currency chips. Much of New Vulcan's infrastructure remained incomplete. Planetary security did not extend to thorough monitoring of all private citizens or guest workers; such monitoring would have violated the Vulcan idea of a free society. New Vulcan's resources were largely diverted towards housing, basic services, food and water, education. Someone with the right knowledge could probably travel, make purchases, and even move on and off planet without using a real name or any name at all. Nyota had told him about the ship leaving New Vulcan airspace without clearance; Sulu suspected that the secretive Orion might know how where that ship took off and landed. Whoever this Orion was, he had enough funds to pay for dilithium crystals to fuel his ship, a small, fast model popular with experienced pilots.

Preoccupied with his theories, Sulu almost missed the bridge leading back to the guesthouse. He turned back and crossed the small river, one of several running through the city. The guesthouse was in sight when he saw the Orion man approaching him as he crossed the bridge.

Sulu waved to get the man's attention. "Hey - hello! Last night, at Lullaby? Can I talk to you?"

The Orion man backed away, then turned and ran in the opposite direction.

"Hey! Wait up!"Sulu pursued him, drawing a few curious stares from the handful of other foreigners in the square outside the guesthouse. The Orion changed directions, turning down a broad street lined with market stalls, and disappeared among a crowd of shoppers.

Sulu slowed down and kept moving through the crowd, trying to catch his breath as he looked into stalls, into faces. No luck; the man was gone. Making a Starfleet officer chase you in public made a person look guilty, but he'd reserve judgment until he spoke to the Orion again. Sulu doubted that this would be their last encounter.

...

Four Enterprise men, even out of uniform and wearing discreet civilian dress, made a handsome sight. Such a sight was also a rare one; even the most sophisticated Vulcans slowed their steps to watch as Jim, Leonard, Sulu, and Scotty strode four abreast along a broad promenade.

Scotty winced slightly and rubbed the small of his back as they neared the entrance to the Botanical Gardens. Jim nudged him in the ribs. "Age creeping up on you, Scotty?"

The engineer scowled at the Captain, who seemed disgustingly energetic and restored after nothing more than three hours' sleep and a shower. "Listen, Bright Eyes, you try getting yer arse thrown across a stone table and see how refreshed ye feel come morning. I'm surprised to see ye still awake after staying out 'til dawn."

Jim smiled and shrugged. "I had a good reason to stay out."

"Most farm boys do their plowin' in the daytime, no' all night long. Ye are a busy farmer indeed," muttered Scotty.

Leonard rolled his eyes. "Could we please elevate the tone of this conversation, gentlemen? I could offer you a hypospray for your back, Scotty."

"No, thank ye, Doc. I'll try to ice it again when we get back to the guesthouse," Scotty replied, determined to be stoic.

Two people stood facing one another beneath tall flowering plants beside a pond some distance ahead. Spock held one hand, palm down, above Nyota's hand, which faced his with the palm up. As their crewmates drew closer they observed that although neither spoke, some sort of energy seemed to move between their hands, which slowly moved closer together. Spock stared down at Nyota with an expression of unguarded tenderness, mirrored in her face as she looked up at him.

"Give them a moment," Jim said quietly, gesturing to the others to stop walking. Hearing him, Spock looked up, and the intimate connection was broken.

"Good morning, gentlemen," Spock said hastily, his cheekbones flushing green.

Nyota gasped softly, covering her hand with a fold of her skirt although her hand was empty.

What's that all about? Jim wondered. Maybe I should have listened more closely to what that Vulcan woman T'seau said last night about hands, sex, and bondmates.

Nyota quickly regained her composure and straightened her shoulders in an officer's posture, letting her arms fall to her sides. "Uh, good morning, everyone. Hope you're all okay after last night?"

McCoy said, "We're still intact and out of jail, despite these three gallivanting about town last night."

"Gallivanting, Doctor?" Spock's eyebrows rose slightly. "Please explain."

As McCoy, Sulu, and Scotty summarized the night's events, Nyota tilted her head towards Jim, requesting to speak privately a few steps away.

"Jim, I'd have appreciated your including me in that call to Spock earlier. I'm an officer too."

"Uhura, it's just that...you're Sarek's daughter-in-law. I didn't want to upset you, considering your potential emotional response to this whole situation."

"Spock's his son, and you called him. His emotional response may not be obvious, but believe me, he does have emotions involved here, strong ones. Women deal with unwanted dangers as often as men do in our galaxy, you know that. I also want to see Sarek cleared of suspicion. Please include me in our future discussions of this in the same way you include the men, Jim."

"Right." Jim remembered what he'd told the attractive Vulcan woman T'seau last night, claiming that he valued the presence and insights of the women members of his bridge crew. Jim had assumed that Nyota would stand by and let the men lead the discussion, which was unlike her. "Won't do it again, Uhura. Come on, let's all sort this out together."

The group walked further, pausing inside a half-circle of columnar, cactus-like plants.

"All right," Jim said. "Who heard something, who saw something? Go around the circle and tell it."

McCoy said, "I ain't got much, so I'll go first. Sarek didn't say anything last night that suggested someone may be trying to set him up. He's got that huge bodyguard to protect him - I know, Spock, his job title is valet, but come on now, that guy looks like he could wrestle a camel and Klingon at the same time and win. Seems trustworthy, if not a great conversationalist. At least he can protect Sarek if somethin' else happens."

Scotty spoke next. "Sadly, the chocolate bought me little except some tipsy philosophizing from that lovelorn Vulcan lute player. I did get the impression that foreigners are generally welcome on New Vulcan, as they have their own troubles to deal with."

Jim spoke up. "I consulted with a Vulcan citizen last night, a casual conversation." Seeing everyone except Spock blink at him, he persisted. "We talked, and she let me in on a bit of local gossip, mentioned a Vulcan woman named T'ober, said that she has political aspirations?"

Nyota and Spock exchanged a look. "We both know her, and she was at the party last night, speaking with the Andorian Thelev," Nyota said. T'ober made it plain that she is not fond of humans, but I didn't hear her say anything about Sarek, the Coridians, or the Tellarites."

Everyone looked at Spock.

"I observed and heard the same things related to the attempted murder of the Tellarite delegate Gav that everyone else did." The overheard gossip about his sexual tastes was most likely unrelated to the incident and he would not shame Nyota by referring to what they had done inside the transport vehicle.

Nyota spoke. "The Andorian delegate, Thelev, has an accent inconsistent with those I've heard in studies and archival recordings of standard Andorian or in common Andorian dialects. Maybe it means nothing, but I noticed it...even dreamed about it. Oh, and he said something suggesting he was only familiar with humans who don't look like me and even asked if I were human like all of you. Aside from being insulting, that remark seemed odd for someone working in the diplomatic corps."

Nyota felt Spock respond with a wave of disgust at the Andorian's words, but she continued. "I explained that Black and brown skinned humans are part of Earth's population and Starfleet and got the impression that it was news to him."

"Ny, I woulda been happy to set him straight on that for you," McCoy said protectively. "I may be from Mississippi, but my Mama raised me to respect all people's humanity, regardless of skin color."

"He said that to yer face, did he? Dobber," muttered Scotty.

"Oh, I'm not sure it was that, guys, though I do thank you - it just was like he didn't have much exposure to humans. Yeah, Thelev didn't seem to like me much but maybe it wasn't for that reason - and I know when that's happening, after years of dealing with bigots. Perhaps he's new at the job and hasn't traveled or watched holos much, or was poorly trained."

"Don't make excuses for him, Nyota," Sulu sighed. "He shouldn't have said that to you. It wasn't just ill-informed, it was rude."

Jim continued, "One ignorant, inexperienced Andorian who speaks before he thinks. Not sure where to go with that. Sulu had an Orion man run from him - you tell it, Sulu, so we get the details."

Sulu described the inquiries he'd made and the morning's the chase, adding "This guy had pilot's calluses on at least one hand. Spock, Nyota, I made a leap of reasoning and wondered if he'd be connected to that small ship you saw leaving New Vulcan airspace. Database searches didn't list a single licensed Orion pilot who gave New Vulcan as either a temporary or permanent residence. This guy has no license, but he does have a record - busted several times for smuggling and piracy."

Uneasily, Nyota thought of Gaila and the way every Orion seemed to have a bad reputation, even if it were undeserved. "So maybe this man is transporting illegal goods from New Vulcan to Orion? That would explain the pilot's calluses, but the ship we saw that morning was too small to transport much cargo. He'd have to be carrying something small and portable."

"What's New Vulcan got that Orions can trade quickly? Gold or other precious metals? Gems?"

"Not people, I hope," Nyota said, still thinking of Gaila. Orion women had little control over their lives and bodies on their home planet.

Spock sensed her discomfort. "I assure you that anyone dealing in human trafficking or slavery on New Vulcan will be punished swiftly and severely. No profit is equal to the cost of a life and a katra."

"What if the profit isn't from something tangible?" McCoy reasoned. "Information? Espionage?"

"Energy," Sulu said. "Dilithium crystals."

"Mr. Sulu, New Vulcan does not have significant deposits of dilithium," Spock said.

"No, but this week New Vulcan was the host to Coridian delegates, and their planetary system is spilling over with dilithium, making them influential," Sulu replied. "So influential that they're on the verge of joining the Federation, which made someone - Gav, the Tellarite delegate - unhappy enough to argue in public with Sarek and anyone else who would listen."

"If Gav voted out the Coridians, access to dilithium would be inconvenient - for legal and illegal trade. So someone had to get Gav out of the way." Scotty tapped his chin, thinking. "The logical culprits would be the Coridians, eh? They want to supply dilithium, get rich. But nobody saw any Coridians leave the party. We know that Sarek wouldn't lose his temper and try to kill a guest, no matter how rude."

"It was the method of attack which led to the accusation of Sarek," Spock reminded them. "Initial examinations suggested that Gav's injuries were consistent with Suus Mahna. Fewer than a thousand remaining Vulcans are expert practicioners of traditional Vulcan martial arts."

"Perhaps someone hired an assassin? A Vulcan hit man?" Jim proposed.

Sulu shook his head. "You could always learn to fight like a Vulcan, even if you didn't master the art. I could break a bone with Akido or karate just as I could with Suus Mahna. Method aside, the bone's still broken, but just because I break it on New Vulcan instead of in San Francisco, somebody may quickly decide that a Vulcan did it."

Nyota sighed. "Context is everything. The assassin could be anyone."

Spock's gaze swept the half-circle. Emotion - affection, appreciation - flowed from him across the bond, and Nyota wondered if the others also sensed it. "I am grateful to all of you. Collectively, I believe we may solve Sarek's problem, and help to obtain some justice for Gav."

"So all we gotta do now is find one nameless Orion in a big city with an incomplete infrastructure, and ask him questions. Ain't that just peachy? Y'all do remember that Vulcan security forces are supposed to be handlin' this, right?" McCoy demanded.

Jim's voice took on a placating tone. "Our crew isn't actually investigating this case. We're just informing ourselves about a local event and getting to know the residents. Right, Spock?"

"Indeed. I see no problem with acquainting oneself with current affairs in a peaceful manner. If some of what the Enterprise crew learns about the Orion man and the attack on the delegate Gav is useful to Vulcan investigators, that is merely, as humans say, 'lucky'."

McCoy titled his head back and gestured towards the heavens in a plea for help. "Give me strength! All right, everybody do what they think they gotta do, but keep it legal."

"Don't we always keep it legal, more or less?" Jim smiled innocently. "Right, everybody, stay safe and keep your eyes open. I propose that we all meet up at dinner tonight for purely social time; Spock, I've sent an invitation to Sarek."

"I'm interested in renting a camel," Scotty said. "I'd like to know a bit more about the beasties. Sulu?"

"Sure, why not? I can manage a horse; camels are a new challenge for me."

"We will accompany Sarek to his appointment with Dr. McCoy later, but we have two free hours now." Spock looked at Nyota, wondering if she preferred that the two of them be alone. He felt her struggle, and then give in to the wish to be sociable and polite.

"Maybe we can join you on those camels," Nyota said. Spock brushed his fingertips over the soft skin of her forearm.

When?

Tonight? I cannot be sure, she responded. She let him touch her thoughts briefly, revealing her worries over Sarek and the violence at the party, her lingering feelings of rejection by the Vulcan socialites, her feelings of being an outsider.

I want you. I will protect you. You are hardly alone or abandoned here. Ashayam, please set these things aside and let us enjoy being together tonight.

Nyota did not seem completely reassured, but she understood him, and that would have to suffice.

They caught up with their crewmembers, who were entering an area where a line of camels chewed their cud, occasionally glancing with disdain at approaching humanoids.

Someone else also caught up with the Enterprise crew, though their unnoticed companion thought it wise to follow at a distance. A man openly carrying a knife might have drawn attention in such an environment, where Vulcan and foreign families walked, chatted or sat quietly beneath shade plants.

Fortunately, it was easy to hide a knife, even an expensive, well-polished one, within the folds of a skirt.

Dobber= 20th/21st century Scottish slang for a stupid person

...

The Municipal Botanical Gardens, New Vulcan

Late morning

 

The wait for camel rentals in the Botanical Gardens was brief. No foreign visitors other than the Enterprise crew seemed to have been attracted to the shady avenues and colorful plants, and only a few Vulcans strolled past. The air felt warm and dry and a few Vulcan women wore veils of lacy openwork threads, perhaps to filter out dust.

Nyota and Scotty chose their camels first. The engineer mounted his with surprising grace and ease, mentioning his past desert travels on Earth during a pre-Federation job.

Apprehensively, Nyota took a few cautious steps toward the camel selected for her and looked up into its large, black eyes.

"Easy, friend," she said gently. How should she approach it? Dogs and cats were easily charmed; this creature would make her earn its good opinion. "Hello, aren't you lovely? You've got beautiful long eyelashes." The camel extended its neck and sniffed along the folds of the full skirted dress she wore. "Oh, friendly camel, you're so nice. Who's a pretty camel?"

Jim grinned. "Listen to you, sweet talking that critter. Does that work on Spock?"

Nyota responded only with a raised eyebrow, which made Jim laugh.

The camel's handler looked at Nyota with a bemused expression and coaxed the camel into a kneeling position. Covering her hand with the cloth of her skirt to minimize skin contact, Nyota let the handler help her into the saddle, which she clung to as the camel stood. It was a bit like being aboard a ship in rough water; she shifted her weight, trying to maintain her balance while the camel rose up on its long legs. Spock watched, his face impassive, but she sensed mild concern. Determined to meet the challenge, Nyota managed to keep her seat and with the handler's assistance she and the camel walked in a broad circle a few times. Scotty was already some distance ahead on the path, riding his camel at a comfortable pace.

"Nyota!"

It was easy to look at a wide surrounding area from the camel's long-legged height. Nyota saw T'voria approaching, her skirts swaying as she hurried over. Although the Vulcan woman did not smile in the public setting, as T'voria drew close Nyota thought that her facial expression indicated that the eccentric, friendly dressmaker was pleased to see her and the Enterprise crew.

"Moi kima - greetings, Osasu Spock, esteemed Enterprise visitors. It is agreeable to meet you again."

"Moi kima, T'voria. Forgive for not dismounting - I'm still new at riding. What brings you to the Botanical Gardens?"

"I often come here during the mornings while my children are at school. The quiet atmosphere is appealing. I see that camels are of interest to your crew?"

"Just curious, ma'am. Horses, I can handle. It would be a shame to leave New Vulcan without trying something new." Jim smiled and winked at T'voria, who blinked back at him, then squeaked nervously, fidgeting with her skirts. Behind her, Nyota mouthed the word "MARRIED" at Jim. The young Vulcan woman was most likely unfamiliar with flirtatious, attractive human men; Nyota feared that Jim's behavior might confuse her. Also, other Vulcans were nearby, and they might observe T'voria's discomfort.

"T'voria, please don't take Jim's behavior seriously," she said gently. "Just a human social custom. Attention without intention."

Relaxing, T'voria smiled at Nyota and laughed audibly. Nyota realized that aside from Spock, she had never heard a Vulcan laugh, and certainly not in public. It was a marvelous laugh, crystalline and musical; Jim and Sulu looked intrigued and McCoy glanced away from the camels to regard T'voria appreciatively. Almost immediately, a deep green flush rose underneath T'voria's tawny skin. A few other Vulcans standing nearby paused in their conversation to stare.

McCoy chuckled. "That quote applies perfectly to Jim. Good call, Ny; a Communications Officer has to use the right word at the right time. She's right, ma'am, Jim's acts like a rascal but he's harmless-"

Flowing skirts, sleeves, and a flash of metal whirled toward Jim. He let out a surprised cry and leapt out of the way. Ongoing combat training kept his reflexes sharp; the blade of the knife sliced open the side of his shirt but only grazed his skin, cutting a thin red line. Thrown off balance, the assailant, whose face was covered by a dust-filtering veil, staggered forward, backed up, then prepared to lunge again.

Onlookers gasped, and several agitated camels stirred as though about to bolt. McCoy quickly moved away from the stumbling, then kicking legs of the nearest camel.

"No! Drop it!" Furious, Nyota gripped the saddle firmly and swung one leg over the camel's back to dismount, ready to defend Jim.

Not that he needed any defense. T'voria moved behind the attacker, grabbing the wrist of the hand that held the knife, but she was shorter and slighter of build and was pushed to the ground. Sulu moved quickly to take her place and twisted the attacker's wrist until the hand opened and the knife dropped to the ground. Human strength was no match, unfortunately, and Sulu too was pushed away; he kept his footing and aimed a roundhouse kick. The kick connected, but the attacker only stumbled, then turned and ran away at an uncanny speed. Instinctively, Nyota leaned forward at an angle which had once felt second nature during her sprinting days on the Utendaji Preparatory Academy track team and gave chase.

She'd seen that the attacker was strong; as a gap opened up between them, Nyota quickly realized that they were fast as well. Catching up seemed impossible, and even if she did catch up - Oh, no. She didn't have her phaser with her. T'Pau and the Vulcan socialites had intimidated her enough to make her go into Vulcan society unarmed, though ladylike. At least she could see the attacker's escape route. Nyota's lungs ached and she felt her pace slowing against her will. The person in the veil hurtled through the open entrance gate and towards a waiting transport vehicle. Accomplices? If they were armed, Nyota realized, it was all over -

"Nyota! I told you to stop!" A pair of strong arms wrapped around her arms, lifted her off her feet and pulled her close to a solid, broad chest. Gulping air, Nyota felt Spock's fear and protectiveness across the bond.

Tal-kam, you were not armed! You pursued an assailant alone!

"Sorry, Spock, I wasn't thinking," she gasped aloud.

That is distressingly obvious. Spock had a way of thinking sarcastically. He set her down on her feet as Sulu, McCoy, T'voria, and an agitated Jim Kirk ran up and stopped beside them. The attacker climbed into the vehicle, which hurtled away, weaving dangerously in and out of traffic along the road until it disappeared from view.

"Uhura, couldn't you hear me shouting commands?" Jim demanded, panting from the exertion. "Nobody on my crew puts themselves at risk, Captain's orders. Thanks for trying, but you shouldn't have pursued without backup."

"Sorry, Captain. I reacted without thinking. I just - I've been a little bit tense on this planet."

"Ain't we all," panted McCoy, resting his hands on his knees while he caught his breath. "Captain, I need to look at your injury."

"Oh." Jim glanced down to see thin streaks of blood smeared across the skin bared by the torn fabric of his shirt. "I didn't even feel it while I was running, I was so angry. Some diplomatic mission this is turning out to be."

Thumping hooves sounded Scotty's arrival. Although his camel was not galloping, he had managed to make it hurry, and he'd managed to keep his seat. "Captain, are ye all right?"

"Fine; I've just lost a little blood and one shirt."

...

Angry voices shouted at each other inside the fleeing vehicle.

"You are reckless! The Enterprise humans could have easily captured you, standing next to them like that! Are you truly Vulcan if you are so impatient and foolish?"

"Do not shout at me! I may allow you into my bed but I am still your equal, more than your equal. Your plan to eradicate Gav the Tellarite failed. I grow tired of waiting. Sarek should have been arrested last night, and that half-human chimera he spawned and his human toy both expelled from this planet."

"Your logical plan failed to come true," came the sneering reply.

"It is not my fault! Sarek has more influence than I knew. Those Federation starship humans are in my way. I intended to frighten them into leaving."

"Your way? Not our way?"

"Do not argue with me! Our way. Why doubt my loyalty to you? You will receive a large share of the dilithium profits, if that is your concern." Reassuring fingers smoothed over the greenish knuckles tightly gripping the controls. "Slow down now; we are well beyond the city limits and those humans were not well organized enough to follow us. Let us abandon this vehicle and seek out a private place. We have much to discuss. Gav remains unconscious, and Sarek remains free. A change of plans is in order."

...

Garden employees showed them to a private office, where McCoy cleaned the wound, which was more of a bad scratch than a slice. Jim, although disconcerted by the attack, kept up a stream of bitter, bravado-infused jokes and pretended not to notice T'voria sneaking glances at his bare chest.

Spock stepped into a different room to report the attack to Sarek. Nyota overheard a tightness in the tone of his voice. The words he used became shorter, the sentence structure more formal; apparently Spock and Sarek disagreed on something.

With Jim safely examined and bandaged - use of a replicator for a skin patch would have to wait until the doctor had access to a medical facility - Leonard McCoy turned his attention to T'voria.

"Young lady, do you mind answering a question on behalf of the Federation? How did a nice stay-at-home mama like you learn military-style attack and wrist holds for disarming someone armed with a knife?"

Sulu cocked his head and regarded T'voria inquisitively. "I was about to ask the same question, Ms. T'voria, but I didn't want to put you on the spot."

T'voria rubbed her hands together nervously, but replied, "I have not always been a housewife." She looked at Nyota. "When we talked, I did not lie to you, Nyota. I told you much about my life on our ancestral planet and on New Vulcan. This is what I did not tell you: when I was younger I feared that this scar on my face would make it difficult, if not impossible, for me to marry. I decided to pursue some career or training so that I might live with some degree of independence. I spent some time in combat training with planetary security forces. Indeed, a few years passed before my parents successfully arranged a good match for me. Combat trainers told me that I have a talent for fighting, but I am not typically aggressive. When the opportunity for marriage arose, I took it."

McCoy said, "Well, I can hardly blame you for any of that, Miz T'voria. It's always good to have a backup plan so you're able to handle whatever life throws at you."

"Why didn't you tell me?" asked Nyota.

"For years, I have attempted to be more like a traditional Vulcan lady, but the social gates are usually closed to someone like me. I do not usually tell anyone that I know how to fight."

"You remember how those other Vulcan women spoke to me in the cave. My Starfleet training made T'ober suggest that I'm not much of a lady, either."

"I admire you; you have a career, and you have many professional skills," T'voria said plainly. "Why would I discuss my inferior training?"

"Didn't look inferior to me," Nyota responded. "You were brave and selfless, and we all appreciate what you did, even though you shouldn't have risked it; you've got your family to think of. As for a career, well...you've got two kids and you're managing a household on an unfamiliar planet. Speaking as an observer, I think that being a parent is one of the toughest jobs there is."

"Ain't that the truth," McCoy sighed, thinking of his daughter and ex-wife. He looked at T'voria's scar again; he wanted to ask her how she'd gotten it, but politeness stifled his question.

Spock returned. His face was calm but a greenish flush along his cheekbones and ears betrayed a recent emotional reaction. "Captain, you are well?"

Jim stood and rolled his nicely muscled bare shoulders. T'voria blinked rapidly, staring. Sulu exchanged a look with Scotty and rolled his eyes. "Bones repaired me well enough for now, and he'll add a skin patch when we get to the medical facility this afternoon. I'll make a quick recovery and be back on the town soon."

"Perhaps not, Captain. Sarek is concerned for your safety and requests that the Enterprise crew immediately move into the diplomatic manor where Nyota and I now reside. There is room for all, he assured me."

Nyota's hopes for a few quiet evenings spent lounging half-dressed on the rooftop garden, with Spock equally half-dressed vanished. True, her crewmates would be respectful of their privacy, but their presence would restrict her usual intimate behavior as well as Spock's. Spock considered it vulgar to describe either one of them as a "screamer" but the label fit both of them, especially following long periods without any sexual activity. The bedroom soundproofing, if there were any at the manor, was probably unequal to that on the Enterprise. Even if Jim were on his best behavior, he and Scotty and Sulu and McCoy might find it difficult to avoid awkward moments at the breakfast table. Not that she wanted to endanger her crewmates, but she yearned for a few secluded hours with Spock.

"I thank Sarek for his generosity, but we might could remain at the guesthouse," Jim said tactfully. "We'll just request that they enable extra security methods."

"I believe that Sarek has more than physical safety in mind. This is a diplomatic matter. Considering recent events, it is his opinion that a show of unity among those with Federation ties will dissuade further conflict among foreign delegates and Vulcans. A Vulcan who opens his home to off-worlders shows a desire for peace and progress. This does not mean that Sarek has no personal regard for the Enterprise crew; indeed, he assures me that he thinks well of all of you. However, this is a time when friendship serves as a useful example to others. Your presence at his house will be a potent symbol."

"I understand." Jim glanced around at his surprised crew. "New orders, everyone. Back to the guesthouse to pack up, on the double, and we move in with Sarek for the duration of our visit."

"Does this mean we won't be able to move freely around the city?" Sulu asked, thinking of his investigations earlier that morning.

"No, Mr. Sulu; Sarek simply requests that Enterprise crew go into the city together in small groups. My father employs private security personnel, and they will accompany you."

"I dinna need nor want a babysitter," sighed Scotty. "How many people in this city could possibly have it in for us? We won't be in danger everywhere we go, surely."

"Y'all know that we can't risk it," McCoy said. "If somebody told me last week that I was gonna see somebody try to stab Jim while he was standing at a Rent-a-Camel concern on New Vulcan, I woulda laughed at 'em. Nothing's predictable when you're working this gig. That's Starfleet life for ya."

...

The crew piled into two separate transport vehicles: McCoy, Scotty, and Jim with Sarek's large valet -who-wasn't-a-valet, and Sulu and T'voria with Spock and Nyota. Spock suggested that T'voria contact her husband, despite T'voria's insistence that she was unlikely to be the target of repercussions. While T'voria reluctantly used the transport vehicle's communicator to assure her husband of her safety, Spock quietly contacted Sarek by text input and requested specialized security surveillance at T'voria's home and her children's school. He finished the message and looked up to see Nyota watching him.

"Thank you," she whispered, brushing her fingers across his hand. Spock was pleased. The security request was typical professional practice, but Nyota sensed the empathy of his actions. Spock did not wish any harm to come to this Vulcan woman he hardly knew, whether or not she had befriended his wife. The group dropped T'voria off at her husband's workplace, gathered their possessions from the guesthouse, and made their way to Sarek's manor, where the Vulcan statesman awaited them.

A few hours of meditation might be required later, Spock thought; so much strife had occurred within a short time period. Heat streamed through the protective windshield and Spock frowned slightly as he drove. The hottest period of the day was still four hours and twelve minutes away. Why did he feel slightly warmer than usual? He was not ill. He pressed a button on the dashboard, requesting diagnostic information on the transport vehicle. All mechanical systems were operating normally. A quick glance through the windshield revealed no external heat sources other than the sun. He could only conclude that the heat came from himself. Awareness dawned, and with it a sense of unease.

Spock switched the vehicle controls to autopilot for a few minutes so that he could properly concentrate on mentally calculating the years passed since he had last had his Time. He hadn't had Nyota's love and support seven years ago.

His previous Pon Farr had come upon him gradually, over a period of anxious weeks. Skin flushed with heat at odd times, lustful dreams, his meditation robes feeling like sheets of flame upon his too-hot body. A flash of heat would appear one week, and the following week would be uneventful. Then he would battle sensual thoughts the following week while the pressure built. The progress was slow, but inevitable.

Seven years ago, he had fought Pon Farr through what felt like endless hours of meditation and exercise, and he had won. He'd been lonelier then, his efforts to seek support for his struggles awkward and confused.

Nyota knew what he'd experienced; Spock had admitted it first in a hushed voice, then lifted his fingers to her temple and shown her. Admirably, she hadn't backed away from him. She had calmly taken everything in, cradled his face in her hands as his own hand fell away from her temple, and placed a soft kiss on his mouth. I am not afraid of you; we will live through it together when the time comes.

Spock glanced at his bondmate's profile. She seemed pensive, worried. He could hardly burden her with such a subject now. He calculated the years and months again; perhaps his Pon Farr was still a year or more away.

No. The numbers were right.

He was wrong.

Sarek, though discomfited by the attempt to stab Jim, welcomed the Enterprise crew graciously. Several of his manor house staff revealed previously unknown skills in combat and security as they solemnly promised to keep the house and its inhabitants secure. Nyota knew of the wrestler background of Sarek's large, taciturn valet, but she was surprised to learn that the petite cook dabbled in sword fighting and archery, and that the shy teenaged Vulcan training as a household accountant studied martial arts. Toughness didn't always reveal itself in obvious ways.

Sarek looked fatigued, but there was discernible warmth in his voice and expression as he attempted to put his new houseguests at ease. "Please, do not consider yourselves prisoners of this house. If you must go out to attend to Federation business or to escape boredom, I recommend that you have one of my security staff accompany you. Diplomatic meetings will conclude within three days; the day after tomorrow, we will vote on whether or not to postpone the vote for Coridian membership."

"Sir, thank you for your kindness and concern for our safety," Jim said. "Sir, is there anything we can do to assist you while we're here? We've got a night and a day of unstructured time."

"Interesting; an egalitarian approach. I suppose that Starfleet members are accustomed to assisting local populations wherever they land. Your visit will provide an agreeable distraction. All of you may do whatever you like; you have full access to the small library and communications systems here, as well as the courtyard and rooftop gardens." Sarek nodded at Sulu, remembering his interest in botany.

As the others began to explore the common rooms of the house, Sarek spoke softly to Nyota. "If you desire female company to balance the preponderance of masculine energy in this house, please speak with my staff about inviting Lady T'voria to visit you here. I understand that she has made an effort to befriend you, and her attempt to defend Captain Kirk is commendable."

Little went unnoticed in the social world of New Vulcan, apparently. "Thank you, Sarek, I appreciate that and I will ask her to come tomorrow. Believe me, I am fond of my crewmates, but I may crave a woman's perspective on life if we are here very long." She smiled at him affectionately. "I hope that all will be well with your health. I am anxious to hear Leonard's diagnosis; please let me know how I can help."

"Thank you, ko-fu Nyota." Sarek actually patted the back of her hand, an indication of the depth of his emotions.

Dr. McCoy thought it wise to leave early for a nearby Federation-affiliated medical clinic where he could attend to Jim's wound and examine Sarek, as planned. Nyota found Spock sitting in front of his unlit firepot in their suite; he was not meditating. She offered to go along to the medical clinic, planning to work on her padd while she waited for the examination to end, but Spock gently declined.

"I have avoided spending much time alone with my father; I think that it would be good for us to speak privately this afternoon. Please do not take this personally," he added as a disappointed expression shadowed her face; "it is only a matter of the private nature of the exam. I know that you care for him. We will all spend social time together this evening." He stroked the soft skin of Nyota's face with fingertips that felt hot and dry.

Poor darling, he's worried and agitated, she thought, and hugged Spock to comfort him. His heart pounded against her forearm as she slid her arms around him. He pressed a kiss to her temple, then a more intense kiss to her mouth.

Leonard's voice sounded from the foot of the stairs. "Hey, excuse me, y'all. Spock, we're ready to leave for the clinic."

Spock released Nyota, frowning.

"Easy, sweetheart. Stay safe and I'll see you soon. It's not like I'm going anywhere," she said, trying to lighten his mood. Spock gave her an unreadable look and left.

Hmm. They hadn't been truly intimate for a while; he probably couldn't help it. Barring an attack on the house that evening, maybe both of them could relax enough to find the comfort they both hungered after.

...

Sarek's manor house was comfortable; its thick walls, extensive ventilation system, and high ceilings kept the rooms cool during the worst heat of the day. As promised, the small library contained texts in several languages and formats, as well as a surprisingly large collection of board and digital games. The gardens were indeed full of unusual and beautiful plants, many of them edible. Despite this, Nyota suspected that the nimble minds and active libidos of the Enterprise crew might not keep them on the premises for very long. Jim might get fidgety. Sulu and Scotty handled their private lives more discreetly, but she doubted that either would deny opportunities for companionship, however temporary.

Scotty, Sulu, and Nyota ate a beautifully prepared vegetarian meal, keeping their conversation light until they gave in to the inevitable desire to analyze the day's events. Nyota tried to pay attention but she couldn't help reaching across the bond to Spock, who seemed somber, but calm. He was sitting in the waiting room and talking with Jim, giving his father some privacy and waiting for McCoy to call him into the examination room. She sensed his appreciation for Jim's kindness and closed the bond so that they could speak alone.

While the others talked, Nyota sent a message inviting T'voria to chat - either by the planetary comm. System or, should she feel safe traveling, in person at Sarek's home. She would welcome advice on the care of an unusually moody Vulcan male. Perhaps T'voria would be comfortable providing some insight.

Nyota excused herself and went back to the suite. Alone, she returned to the question lingering in her mind since the night of the party and the attack on Gav. Nyota kept several types of linguistic and communications software on her padd. She stripped down to her underwear in the slightly warm upper story room, sat down at a table with her padd, and opened a language emulator program.

The application was one that she favored for its versatility as well as the fact that her Auntie 'Chelle had worked as a coder and consultant on an early version of the program. Nyota began to test and review sets of possible pronunciations of common Andorian vocabulary words, adjusted for regional accent and age. The computer voice spoke variations into the cool air of the room.

An - dor

Ahn - dor

And - or

Ahndo - rr

She listened to the possible native Andorian language pronunciations, testing them against her memory of Thelev's speech pattern and the words he had said to her. None matched, so Nyota changed the emulator settings to reproduce possible Andorian word pronunciations by non-native speakers. She tested possibilities from solar systems near Andoria, then common Earth accents. This time her efforts returned a few close matches. Nyota adjusted the settings and listened again. The results pointed towards an odd conclusion.

Who was Thelev, anyway?

You are not a pink skin, but all human?

Yes, all human, with brown skin. There are many like me on Earth, and elsewhere in the galaxy. Black skin, golden skin, brown skin, reddish skin, pink skin, skin like honey, skin like clouds, skin like flower petals, skin like tree leaves in autumn, skin like the dark night sky. Quite a nice variety.

Nyota tried to push the uncomfortable memory of Thelev's comment away from her consciousness so that she could continue her work. Historically, Andorians had been unfriendly with humans, but political progress had eased tensions. Oddly, it seemed that Thelev hadn't learned much about human progress. Nyota supposed that her own background had been somewhat privileged. The Uhura family traveled and lived abroad, had friends of different nationalities and she was accustomed to seeing people with different skin colors and facial features not only in her home town, but on family trips to New Nairobi and its satellite towns. However, even though many of Earth's people of various social classes undertook intergalactic travel, she knew that her own life experience wasn't typical.

She sighed and listened carefully to the emulators results one more time. It was clear that she needed to make a call off planet.

...

McCoy's expression was sympathetic as he looked at Sarek. "I'm sorry to tell you this, sir, but the diagnosis is not good. Gettin' right to the point, it's a cardiac problem. You've managed to get this far in life with an undiagnosed heart defect."

"I understand." Sarek sighed. "What are my options?"

"Surgery could heal you. However, as I understand it, the reason you asked me to diagnose you instead of a Vulcan doctor is that none were available. As you know, I have extensive experience in xenobiology, but I am reluctant to perform surgery on you if someone more skilled is available. To complicate the matter, you're possessed of a rare blood type and a transfusion is required. Soon after you first contacted me, I ran a database search of potential blood donor matches, just as a matter of standard practice. The most obvious blood donor is Spock. In order for you to have this surgery at all, you'll need the help of your son."

Silence fell over the room; Sarek gazed straight ahead, unseeing.

"This isn't an emergency situation but I recommend that you make a decision very soon, perhaps within the next forty-eight Standard hours," Leonard concluded, trying to keep his tone of voice neutral. He felt sorry for the man. "Sir, this must be terribly difficult for you hear right now. You've already been accused of murder, the fashionable set of New Vulcan are snubbing your son and daughter-in-law for being human, and somebody tried to stab one of your diplomatic Starfleet guests, who happens to be your son's friend. Personally, I'd call that one hell of a tough week."

Sarek raised an eyebrow; the corner of his mouth lifted in a hint of a sardonic grin. "Things could be worse. At least my son and I are speaking to one another now."

Uncertain as to how to respond, McCoy cleared his throat. "Shall I send Spock in now?"

"Please, doctor."

...

Early evening

New Vulcan - Sarek's Diplomatic Manor

Leonard leaned against the parlor windowsill, the better to catch evening breezes wafting in from the courtyard. Sarek and the rest of the crew were socializing in the large room. Maybe he'd go to bed early tonight to escape the heat and recover after a long, strange day. This diplomatic visit felt more like a mission involving battle, or perhaps rescue was more appropriate. Rescuing Sarek depended upon his decision, which he had not yet announced. Sarek was in his private quarters meditating; he had asked Leonard to avoid discussing his health and the surgery with the Enterprise crew and allow him to make the announcement himself.

Jim, his wound treated and neatly patched, paced back and forth nearby. Occasionally he glanced at his communicator as though awaiting a message.

Leonard interrupted Jim's reverie. "Expectin' to hear from the ship, Jim?"

"No, Bones, I gave them a full report earlier in the day. I was...okay, I'll be honest. Yeah, somebody tried to slice me up today, but I feel like going out. I met a woman last night."

"Uhm-hm. I know. Sarek told me."

"How the hell did he know?"

"The man told us earlier about his security staff, didn't he? Come on, Jim. This ain't your first day on a mission. You know darn well that a bunch of guys in Starfleet dress uniforms cain't go nowhere on a planet without folks talkin' about it. Only thang that surprises me is that nobody took pictures. Sarek said he heard you flirted with a Vulcan woman at that Lullaby joint last night, then she went outside and you followed soon after."

Jim groaned. "I didn't want to make this kind of impression on him. I just wanted some company, is all."

"Oh, he ain't mad at you; he was young himself once, and you're not the first youngish man in a military organization that he's ever seen. You might want to keep your activities a bit more quiet if we ever get out of this house, though. Sarek knew a little bit about who you were with. There ain't no polite way of saying this, Jim, but...that woman you lay down with last night does not fall under that category of a 'nice Vulcan girl'."

"Woman," Jim corrected McCoy, his expression suddenly dreamy. "She had really strong thighs...that was 'nice' enough for me."

McCoy sighed. "My Great-Uncle Cleophus Boatwright used to say that the good Lord gave men brains and he gave them tallywhackers, but he didn't give them enough blood to operate both at the same time."

"Tallywhackers? Len, I've obviously been taking my shore leave in the wrong places. Next time I'm going to Mississippi to hang out with these wise and eloquent relatives of yours."

"Why not? You might like Jackson. Just keep your heartbreakin' self away from my single cousins and everything oughta be just fine."

"Anyway, I don't care about this 'nice girl' stuff," Jim said with a shrug. "Hell, people think I'm the biggest slut known across three galactic systems and nobody shuns me. I'm not too concerned about somebody's reputation as long as they aren't a wanted criminal or an enemy of the Federation."

"How can you know if you're meeting people in bars? Be careful. The lady - if it really was a lady - who tried to stab you today was veiled."

"No, that wasn't the woman I made out with last night. She said some gossipy, mean things about a few people - some T'ober person, specifically - but she wasn't aggressive. Just didn't seem the type." Kirk sighed. "Now I won't get to know her a little better. Maybe we can join Sulu on this garden tour while we're waiting for Sarek to talk to us."

Nyota welcomed the conversational buzz and occasional bursts of masculine, human laughter. She sat on a large cushion beside Spock; Scotty half-reclined opposite, studying a game board between them. In the courtyard, Sulu discussed Vulcan plants with one of the house staff. McCoy and Jim stood near a table laden with fruit and drinks. It reminded Nyota of convivial evenings with family and friends at home. She opened her hand fan and stirred the warm air as her mind wandered back to the Andorian pronunciations.

Ushaan

U-shaan

Ush-aan

Spock brushed her elbow, and she turned to see him holding up a glass. Nyota sighed and gratefully accepted Spock's offer of more cold fruit juice.

Uu-sh-aan...

Ush-aa-nn

Spock set his own glass aside, watching her. The back of Nyota's neck and the tops of her shoulders were partially bared by the way the wide neckline of her dress draped when she sat down. Her skin looked so soft; he had to touch it. She was cool beneath his warm fingertips. His lips hovered a millimeter above her neck. Spock halted when she spoke to him through their bond.

Sweetheart, wait. Our crewmates are still in the room with us. Are you feeling a bit frisky?

Instead of responding verbally, Spock communicated a glimpse of his thoughts: his hands, lips and tongue moving over her breasts and the roundest part of her belly, pausing for a gentle bite on her inner thigh.

Nyota dropped her fan onto the cushions, then quickly retrieved it and rapidly waved it in front of herself.

Scotty looked up from the game board. Spock sat perfectly still beside Nyota, a small distance between their bodies. However, Nyota was wide-eyed and distracted, and the modestly draped fabric of her dress bodice did not conceal her rapid breathing.

"Aye, it's pure dead hot in here, ain't it, lass?" Scotty said innocently.

"Er, no, I just felt a warm breeze." Nyota glanced sideways at an expressionless Spock.

"Mr. Scott, this residence is climate controlled," said Spock. "However, as an engineer you know that no system is perfect. Nyota, I can adjust the system to increase the coolness of the room if you so desire."

Was it her imagination, or did Spock place a subtle stress on that last word, desire? Another image flowed across the bond, this one of the two of them lying naked in a dimly lit room with the cooling system on a high setting. Spock used his mouth to warm her nipples, which stood out hard and firm in the cold air.

Nyota inhaled loudly and gulped down her drink. "I think I need to cool off." She stood and walked into the courtyard, her face hot.

"Pardon me, Mr. Scott." Spock rose and followed her.

"That telepathy must be a powerful thing," murmured Scotty.

Moonlight - New Vulcan had a lovely moon - washed across the stone flooring of the courtyard and threw the plants into dramatic silhouette. "Spock, how dare you tease me like that with the crew so close?" Nyota whispered.

"It is not the first time we have done this. You often tempt me just as strongly. Indeed, you have occasionally teased me while both of us are in public by communicating images of yourself stroking my body, licking and biting me, or binding me to shipboard equipment with restraints and dominating me. You know very well how appealing I find such thoughts."

Nyota cocked an eyebrow at him. "Okay, yeah, but I do that during shift changes on the Enterprise or at parties, not during times of major political crisis. What's gotten into you?"

"You, yourself, tal-kam. I could say that I desire to get into you, but such humor is vulgar."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, please."

"Is that an invitation?"

"Slow down, big boy. I think that I understand. It's been a while since we were...together, and you're feeling deprived. Thus, this giddy mood of yours."

"As a Vulcan, I am not controlled by changing moods."

To the contrary, she had observed that Spock had his moody times, but Nyota decided to let that rest. "Ashayam, you know how my illogical moods affect me. I'm sorry if I've been distant. First we had that argument, and then there was the attack on Gav, and you told me that Sarek is sick, and now that veiled woman trying to stab Jim...it's overwhelming. I need your comfort, but I hope you understand why I haven't been in the mood. Honestly, I'm surprised that you are."

"Being touched and held by you calms me and helps me to focus my thoughts. However, I also find it calming and restorative when we do more." Spock opened his hand, the palm turned up: Nyota held her own hand over it with her palm facing his. She felt a steady, reassuring energy between them.

"Come to me when you are ready," Spock said. "I desire you, but just as during our courtship, I want you when you are willing, not when you feel an obligation to me."

"Thank you, sweetheart. I love you."

Spock did not answer, but he cradled her head between his hands and pressed his forehead to hers; what he revealed to her through their bond echoed her words.

"Excuse me." Sulu's deep voice interrupted politely. "Sarek's here, and he wants to speak to us now, as a group."

"I will be direct," Sarek said. "This afternoon I learned from Dr. McCoy that I have a previously undiagnosed heart defect. As you know he is an accomplished xenobiologist; he explained that my condition can be healed with a simple surgical procedure. I have asked to perform the surgery to due to the present shortage of Vulcan doctors. There are others on New Vulcan with greater need than I. This surgery requires a transfusion, and I have a rare blood type. Dr. McCoy attempted to find a donor match in our medical databases, but the most readily available donor is my son, Spock."

Nyota looked at Spock, who stood silently next to his father; Spock looked up from the floor and into her eyes.

Good of you.

Yes.

"The transfusion requires a great deal of blood; the procedure may put Spock at some risk."

Nyota's eyes widened. She truly wanted Sarek to be healed, but the thought of Spock becoming ill - if there were no donor matches, then no one could help Spock if -

Her hands trembled; she covered them with a fold of her skirt.

"Following the transfusion and surgery, each of us will enter into a healing trance for at least a full day in Standard time, perhaps longer. We will begin the trance at the hospital and be safely transported here. Although we cannot be certain of the outcome, we expect this sequence of events to be uneventful. I have asked Dr. McCoy to conduct both the transfusion and the surgery later this afternoon."

Nyota and Scotty gasped; Sulu and Jim stared.

"In the event that I do not survive, I have made the necessary arrangements with Starfleet," Spock said. Nyota stared at him, her eyes filling with tears.

Why didn't you tell me when we were alone?

I desired to inform everyone at the same time in order to avoid any misunderstanding.

Do you misunderstand me? I cannot bear the thought of losing you.

Spock's vision seemed to sharpen then, as he saw tears leaving dark, damp steaks down the front of Nyota's dress.

Ashayam, I am sorry - he crossed the room and embraced her.

An awkward, somber silence hung over the room.

"Please, everyone," McCoy said, "there's no reason to worry just yet. This planet's hospital is fairly new, and so it's full of new, functioning equipment. I'd feel all right being operated on here myself. I've got plenty of trained personnel to work with."

Jim tried to sound optimistic. "Things will probably turn out well. Obviously, Nyota's going to need our support, and Len could use a bit too. I know we're all going to be under armed guard for a few more days, but we can get through this as a team. Sarek, sir, I'm glad that there's a solution to your problem and I wish you the best possible result. Spock, I respect the sacrifice you're making. You'd better get well though. Who's going to keep me in line on the bridge?"

"I believe that Nyota could manage, as she tolerates little nonsense from anyone. Dr. McCoy is equally insistent upon proper behavior. Please Nyota, do not cry. You see how we attempt to 'lighten the situation', to use the colloquial term."

"I know, I can't help it - I want Sarek to be safe, and you to come through the transfusion safely."

"If it's any comfort, Ny, large folks like Spock often have a little more blood to spare," McCoy said. "Barring any complications he recover quickly."

Spock tried to send Nyota a sense of reassurance through their bond as she held his hand. There was something he was concealing from her; perhaps overly clinical details of the medical procedures? It concerned his health, but which aspect of his health was unclear.

Sulu and Scotty were speaking to her then, and Sarek too, and she accepted their good wishes with a smile she did not feel. Over and over again she berated herself for not showing enough concern for Sarek; it was selfish to cry only over her husband. She spoke to Sarek quietly, admitting her fears for him, but he insisted that there was little reason to worry. Nyota gratefully accepted his efforts to comfort her, and then excused herself to contact her family.

...

Sarek sequestered himself in his office for an hour to complete some final work-related tasks and record messages for his household staff. Spock assisted him, and they completed their work quickly.

"Father, I would like you to consider one more thing before we depart for the hospital. I understand that you have the ability to make final recommendations for a particular economic and trade policy committee."

"Yes, that is correct. Is there someone you want to recommend?"

"Not precisely. I wish to discuss two men I overheard discussing Nyota and myself during the diplomatic reception. Both mocked my impure blood and, to quote, my 'sexual proclivities' with regard to human women, particularly Nyota."

Sarek's eyes narrowed, and he grew absolutely still. "Indeed?"

"Nyota also overheard some of the remarks and left the area without being discovered. It is good that she did so, because the discussion grew coarser, with allegations that humans from the United States of Africa are uncivilized. It is my understanding that both of these men seek greater influence within the commerce and trade divisions of New Vulcan's government."

"I believe that I can easily guess which two men you heard speaking." Sarek named them, and Spock nodded.

"Affirmative. Without considering my own feelings - as you know, I have been insulted throughout my life - I took some time to analyze their efficiency as possible representatives of New Vulcan. It is my opinion that such men cannot work effectively or diplomatically with humans or other races, and their demonstrated lack of caution and propensity to gossip makes each man a security risk. As a member of the review committee tasked with selecting persons for that economic and trade policy committee, I have already cast my vote against those two men. I leave it to you to decide how you will cast your own vote."

"Spock, you know quite well what my vote is likely to be."

"I am not attempting to manipulate you, even though I am your son. I do believe that we share the same values."

"Did you show anger?"

"I confronted them only by saying that I heard what was said. Almost immediately afterward, I encountered Nyota and comforted her. I know quite well that Vulcans do not seek revenge."

"Yet you point out their error to me."

"This is more than an error. It is a matter of a moral and philosophical defect...of prejudice and cruelty."

"We are not in disagreement. However, you do understand my professional need to be fair? Both men are experienced and well educated."

"Well educated? It appears that they have acquired little true learning about either Earth's history or how to relate to other beings."

Sarek favored Spock with a half-smile.

"Amanda would be as pleased with you as I am. It is improper to congratulate oneself, but it appears that the values we taught you 'stuck like glue, through and through', as she would say." The movement of Sarek's hand over the surface of the computer input device was subtle, but Spock saw him swipe, tap, swipe, tap the interactive ballot, and the no vote registered next to each man's image.

"Completed. A final duty before we begin our medical adventure." He looked up at Spock. "You chose to confide in me; five years ago, would you have told me of this?"

"I...no, I would not. I would have borne the burden myself."

"But Nyota made a difference?"

"I think of others more often these days. This does not concern only Nyota and me, or even my mother's memory. The people of New Vulcan would not, ultimately, fare well under a government full of such men. There are Vulcans living here from across the Diaspora with skins darker than that of Nyota and with eyes shaped like those of Sulu. Guest workers are helping us rebuild our society. Collaboration and mutual understanding are logical on New Vulcan and increase the probability of our success. My own vote was, in part, politically motivated."

"Then that is what we shall say to these men, if challenged." Sarek rose from the chair, sighing. "I have invited the more forward-thinking members of the trade committee to meet Nyota a few days from now, after we are both recovered. They wish to speak with her about making personal connections in the United States of Africa, particularly in the region near New Nairobi where she lives. All of this will be dealt with in time. Shall we go?"

...

The Enterprise crewmen accompanied Vulcan father and son to the hospital, along with a tense Nyota. Perhaps their reasons included a desire to escape the manor house for a few hours as well as to show support for their Commanding Officer and the Vulcan statesman who offered them hospitality and protection. The reasons didn't matter much to Nyota.

"I'm just glad that you're here," she told them as they paced the corridors near a dimly lit waiting room. Her eyes were puffy from hours of on-and-off weeping and she felt slightly hoarse. She'd managed to open private communications channels that morning and encode messages to her parents, Auntie 'Chelle, and Gaila. In accordance with Starfleet security regulations, her message to Gaila hadn't mentioned the surgery or the attack on Jim; instead, she'd asked a question about Orion speech patterns and Andorians.

"Easy now, lass. Tears again? Ye know we care about Spock, too. What will he think when he wakes up and sees the lot of us staring at him red-eyed? He'll think we've all been at the whisky." Scotty patted her hand.

"I could use a shot of booze now to calm me down," Nyota sighed. "I'm afraid something will go wrong."

"No drink for you, not with yer low tolerance. We canna know how things will go. Don't predict disaster just yet."

...

Sarek let his hand brush against his son's before the procedure began; he frowned. Spock's skin was unusually hot and dry. He looked at his son sternly.

The room was crowded with medical staff. Speaking in an obscure variation of High Vulcan, he demanded, "When did thee intend to tell me of thy approaching Ponn Farr?"

Spock glanced away. "I wished to help thee by donating blood, but thought thee might say me nay if I told thee. It has not begun. I feel only shadows of it."

"Pon Farr will weaken thee and make thy recovery long."

"I will fight for my recovery. I understand the risk."

"Does thy bondmate know of this?"

"I could not tell her. Already she grieves for us."

"Son, thou art a trial, even when thy actions are well intended. When thou dost awake from thy healing trance I insist that thee inform Nyota and prepare a safe place to be alone with her."

...

Eventually Nyota worried herself into an exhausted sleep on the waiting room couch. After what felt like only minutes, the warm surface beneath her head shifted.

"Spock, angel, stay," she murmured, reaching out for him, but he wasn't in bed and neither was she. Blinking, she looked up at Sulu.

"So that's what he wakes up to every morning? Lucky Spock."

"Oh. Sorry. Your shoulder- I probably drooled on it."

"No problem, it'll dry. The operation's nearly over. The transfusion was fine. Spock's about to go into that deep trance state he told us about, and he wants you."

Nyota pulled a protective smock over her clothes, sterilized her hands, and followed a Vulcan nurse into a recovery room. Spock's long, still form lay on a cot; his bandaged arm rested atop the sheet. As she drew closer she noticed that his skin looked pale and felt clammy beneath her fingers. She stroked his face and his long, elegant hands.

"Sweetheart?"

The bond was weak, but present as he gradually slipped away from full consciousness.

"Ny."

She smiled. Spock disliked nicknames and only used hers teasingly, when they were alone.

"Want kiss."

She pressed her fingers against his. He groaned, dissatisfied.

"Not sterile, honey. It might be bad for you."

"Good for me. Meditate better. Mouth kiss."

Nyota squeezed his hand gently, leaned forward, and Spock got his kiss. His eyes finally closed, and she concentrated on their bond. His consciousness calmed, slowed, grew heavier like a flat stone sinking down into water. Then he was gone, his body steadily righting the imbalance created by the transfusion. He was aware of her, but she knew that he would not answer when she spoke to him. She tried pressing his hand; he did not press back.

"It may be thirty-six Standard hours before he wakes, T'sai Uhura," the Vulcan nurse said. "That is generally considered a minimum for a healing trance."

"Thank you," Nyota said politely. "Tell me - what do Vulcan family members usually do while waiting for a loved one to complete a healing trance?"

Because she was speaking Standard, Nyota used the term loved one without thinking. Perhaps it was too intimate sounding and would seem rude. However, the nurse did not react negatively.

"One might meditate," she replied, "or distract oneself with physical exercise or activities requiring concentration, such as playing the lute. Philosophical essays regarding the nature of illness may be useful to some. I once met a human doctor who described how humans may sit in a group and discuss their emotional responses to the illness of family members. We would not do that, but I can understand that it might prevent loneliness and anxiety."

"Yes, I can imagine," Nyota said. That wasn't something she could do with the Enterprise guys, but she could contact her family. "Thank you. When can he come back to the manor house?"

"Both Spock and Sarek will be transported under guard to the manor house within two hours. Each of them will recuperate using the healing trance at home. Dr. McCoy has already arranged nursing assistance."

...

"Guys, can you go out with security and get some fresh air?" Nyota asked. "You've all been in here too long, you need a break. Ask one of the guards to recommend a safe restaurant for diplomats. "

Jim looked relieved. "I'd like to keep an eye on him, but McCoy says he's fine and there isn't much we can do here. What about you?"

"I'll stay with Spock."

"Keeping vigil? He's not gonna wake up."

"I know, but...I can't leave him." She sighed.

"I get it. We'll see you at the manor house."

It was much easier to start crying again with only Leonard to watch. The doctor had seen plenty of tears, and shed plenty himself. Nyota didn't know why she was still crying, but she couldn't keep her worries for Spock and Sarek under control. Nyota saw that Sarek lay just as still and calm as his son; his own healing trance overcame him so rapidly that she could not speak to him after the surgery ended.

Nyota wandered between the two recovery rooms, wondering what she would do if neither man survived. Eventually she asked Leonard rather crankily why he wasn't taking a break too; he scolded her, she apologized profusely, and sat next to Spock, waiting until the transport stretcher was brought in.

The next several hours felt blurry and indistinct. Jim, Sulu, and Scotty found ways to entertain themselves in the house, while Leonard slept away the exhausting stress of operating on someone he knew and liked.

Spock and Sarek each remained in healing trances in quiet bedrooms under guard. Struggling to sleep alone in their suite, Nyota decided that the bed was too big without Spock. She dressed, and went to sleep on the floor next to her bondmate. The faces of the guards were impassive but she overheard one murmuring something about human devotion and loyalty. It sounded like a compliment. She was too tired to parse the translation.

Cabin fever set in after twenty hours. Sulu and Jim sparred during the day and at night, stripped to the waist. McCoy immersed himself in medical journals at first, and then began asking the cook and Sulu, who had a lifetime personal interest in botany, questions about which of the plants in the gardens could be distilled or fermented. Scotty also pestered the household staff, designing and beginning to construct a new compost bin. Nobody was keeping regular bedtimes or able to perform their usual work routines. Jim was threatening to disassemble one of the transport vehicles and teach himself to put it back together just to keep himself occupied.

Nyota checked on Spock repeatedly, but his physical and spiritual state seemed unchanged, perhaps the best she could hope for. There was little she could do until his restorative trance reached its natural conclusion and he returned to consciousness. The health monitor linked to her communicator would alert her of any changes to Spock or Sarek's condition.

She paced around the small bedroom; it was late morning. She should distract herself, stop brooding for a while. Maybe Sulu would have reached some conclusions about the mysterious Orion man, or Jim and Len would want to chat, or she could help Scotty assemble the compost bins. Everyone had been very kind and supportive, and she could express her gratitude by helping them entertain themselves while they were all being confined and watched for their own good.

Someone tapped softly at the door and slid it open a crack. Sulu peered in, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Ny", he said quietly, "You've got visitors."

Nyota smoothed her hand across Spock's, then rose and followed Sulu.

"Who?"

...

The atmosphere in the large parlor seemed charged with emotion. Her other crewmates stood smiling and talking in a half-circle around T'voria, who rocked back and forth excitedly on her heels. Sarek's large, silent valet stood nearby, watching.

"Oh, I'm glad to see you!"

Nyota stopped herself from hugging the Vulcan woman just in time, but T'voria didn't seem to mind. She squeaked with apparent delight, then cleared the smiled from her face and replied, "I am exceedingly pleased to see you as well and to be granted entry to the house of Sarek. I have enquired after his health and that of Spock; your friends kindly assured me that both are well. However, they are concerned about you. I am pleased that I was not too shy to accept the invitation Sarek sent me before the surgery. Distraction is sometimes useful in healing, is it not? Here are the distractions."

She pulled her full skirts closer to her, revealing a pair of little Vulcans at her sides. Two sets of dark eyes set in round faces peered up at Nyota.

"Children! I believe we can manage house arrest, now that you've brought us the gift of your good company. Hello, young folks." Nyota's eyes involuntarily filled with tears, and she blinked to keep them from spilling out and over.

"My daughter, T'seffi, and my son, S'katrenti. Both are learning to speak advanced Standard. T'seffi, please take your fingers out of your mouth and greet T'sai Uhura."

"Greetings, T'sai Uhura." The greetings came softly in accented Standard and the last half of the son's greeting was muffled as he turned his face back into his mother's skirt. Bending down on one knee to speak with the children at eye level, Nyota returned the greeting and looked up at T'voria. "Thank you so much for bringing them, and yourself. My little cousins are near their ages. Can you all stay for a little while?"

"Yes; I have planned ahead." T'voria nodded toward a cloth bag of toys and games, which had half spilled across a broad, low table. Scotty and Sulu were examining a wooden puzzle game involving interlocking parts, hidden hinges, and changing shapes.

"Mr. Sulu and Mr. Scott are interested in your puzzle," Nyota said to S'katrenti. "Perhaps you would like to tell them about it?"

Curious and distracted, the little boy wandered off and cautiously began a session of play with the crew members, conversing in a functional Standard vocabulary. McCoy easily charmed T'voria and her daughter T'seffi, who wanted to understand why his accent differed from the speech of the other humans. Leonard described Mississippi, and then began to tell the child a folktale involving a clever rabbit. Because New Vulcan had no rabbits, he led her into the courtyard, where they used sticks to draw images of rabbits in the dirt of a flowerbed.

Only Jim remained quiet, sitting off to the side.

"Are you all right, Jim?"

"Sure, Ny, I'm fine. I'm...just not used to being around kids these days, I guess."

Nyota sat beside him. "I hope that their being here doesn't make you feel homesick or sad."

"No, I'm glad they're here. We all needed a change of pace to ward off cabin fever. I just don't know much about entertaining kids, is all. They kinda scare me."

"You don't see your brother or younger cousins much?"

"Let's just say that the Kirk family puts the 'dis' in dysfunctional. My Starfleet 'work family' is easier to deal with sometimes, no matter how argumentative people get on the Enterprise. "

Without thinking, Nyota clasped Jim's hand and held it. "I'm sorry. I hope that things get better."

"Hey, maybe I'll go home next shore leave. Maybe this time, nobody will get drunk and angry, somebody will ask me how I am and actually listen to the answer, and my stepfather, Frank, won't cuss me out at the dinner table."

"Sorry that it's so bad. It sounds as though Starfleet is more hospitable. Jim, if...if things turn out well here...you could come to the United States of Africa with me and Spock when we visit my family. You'd be welcome, and people would enjoy getting to know you."

Jim smiled at her, but his eyes were sad. "I think that you really mean that."

"I do. I don't dislike you, even though our perspectives on life differ. You've got a good heart, no matter how much you try to hide it."

"That's nice of you. I don't usually deal with niceness, but maybe I should try it, huh? Thanks. I'll ask Spock about it when he wakes up." Jim raised their joined hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "I wouldn't dare try that if he were awake." Releasing her hand, Jim stood. "I'm gonna try to be sociable with these terrifying children."

Although not overly emotional, the Vulcan children were friendly and energetic, and quickly abandoned Vulcan social reserve to enjoy interacting with Sarek's Starfleet guests. Everyone took turns amusing the children and talking with T'voria, who Nyota suspected was starved for adult conversation. Each child recited a Vulcan poem, and Nyota sang for them.

Later the crew and children constructed a ship out of cushions and the parlor furniture; the children took turns piloting it through imaginary galaxies with Sulu and Jim's direction. Everyone disassembled the ship in order to be able to eat lunch. Scotty had worked with the kitchen staff the day before to obtain a sort of flat bread, and now he instructed the children and their mother in sandwich making. After lunch, McCoy told another story involving the mischievous rabbit while the children curled up beside T'voria and Nyota and eventually dozed off.

"Ma'am, I admire your energy level. Are these lil' cuties always like this?" McCoy wondered.

T'voria smiled at the napping children. "I must warn you, they are even livelier during the afternoon. I am grateful to all of you for entertaining them."

Nyota idly stroked T'seffi's forehead; the child lay across her lap and pressed along her side so that she could not move, but it was all right. She was feeling calm and almost happy. She gazed through the windows facing the courtyard, where Scotty, Sulu, Jim, and Sietla, Sarek's valet/bodyguard had rearranged the planters to improvise a football pitch.

T'voria's communication device beeped softly and vibrated every few minutes until she changed it to a silent setting.

"Is everything all right?" Nyota asked.

"We'll watch the kids if you want to call someone," McCoy offered. He knew that he shouldn't let himself drift into memories of watching his own sleeping daughter, but it was difficult not to.

"None of these messages are from my husband or friends." T'voria glanced at the device's screen. "These are all invitations to social events." She looked at them with a hint of a wry expression. "Yesterday's attack on Captain Kirk was witnessed by many, and they all told their friends. Somehow they must have also learned that I was invited to Sarek's house and that I am under his protection, as all of you are. One night has passed and I am suddenly popular enough to be invited to socialize with those who ignored me only last week."

"Really? I was afraid that the fashionable Vulcans would shun you for being friendly to me," Nyota admitted. "I thought that T'ober's crowd disliked me."

"T'ober's crowd had power on old Vulcan. This is New Vulcan. Even someone like me, who knows how to earn money by working with her hands, can be acceptable here. Have you checked your communicators? If you have any public channels available, I predict that you will find many messages inviting all of the Enterprise crew to parties with Vulcans from classes high and low."

"Starfleet is an egalitarian environment," McCoy said uncomfortably. "Personally, I don't like all of this 'high' and 'low' stuff. I'm used to plain dealin' with folks."

"Yes, that's how I was brought up," Nyota said. "I wouldn't treat a stranger the way T'ober and those other women treated me."

"Her family is an old and wealthy one," T'voria explained. "She is accustomed to doing as she sees fit."

Nyota shrugged. "Noble birth doesn't determine noble behavior or character."

"Who knows what New Vulcan will become? IDIC and infinite diversity include change. We Vulcans can calculate probability, but we cannot stop change. I do not fear our future; it is exciting to finally feel as though I belong in it," T'voria said.

T'seffi stirred, and blinked up at Nyota.

"Welcome back, sleepy head. Wait until you see the game the bridge crew has planned; you'll get to play football."

Both children came fully awake, and asked their mother to lead them to the bathroom. Nyota pulled Sulu aside.

"Hikaru, I need to ask you some questions about the Orion man you saw at that bar." She explained her work with the language emulator. "The most promising of all the results suggested that Thelev speaks a colloquial form of Andorian with a notable Orion accent."

Sulu shook his head. "The man I spoke to was definitely Orion. Nothing Andorian about him. Looked Orion, was described by bar staff and a patron as an Orion. As I said yesterday, he had pilot's calluses on his hands, but on a new colony like this one, many people might be trained pilots."

"Andorians don't typically use handshakes, so I can't say anything about Thelev's hands."

"I understand what you're suggesting, but man, talk about a long shot." Sulu shook his head.

"What else do we have to go on? All we know now is that the criminals hide their faces and sneak up on their victims. Politically motivated attacks usually involve some public statement afterward, right? These assaults seem personal; someone opposes the Federation, but they're not good planners. They didn't kill Gav and the woman who attacked Jim was not a trained assassin; she acted out of passion."

"You're right about that. Talk about some sloppy knife fighting." Sulu shook his head. "Strong, though, and probably not human."

"Vulcan?" Nyota asked.

Sulu's eyes widened. "Damn. I wonder if Jim got his Vulcan lady friend angry, despite what he told us; he swears it wasn't her, but sometimes he doesn't really understand women's feelings. She might be carrying a grudge."

Groaning, Nyota pressed a hand to her forehead. "Oh, no. I hope that's all she's carrying. I told him at the party not to touch Vulcan women's hands when greeting them -touch telepathy might have revealed his thoughts, revealed that he wouldn't even consider being serious with her."

"Jim and the Vulcan woman went way beyond hand touching. We were at the bar, they were flirting with each other, they left together, and she didn't seem to object to anything Jim did."

"Mutual?" she asked.

Sulu nodded.

"I wonder if there was some human-Vulcan misunderstanding."

"Not to get too personal, Ny - I don't know all that much about how you and Spock got together, but from what I observed of her flirting back, and in my personal experience, Vulcans make it obvious when they want someone." He quickly provided some details about the Vulcan man who had eyed him inside the bar and answered his questions outside the bar the following morning.

Nyota couldn't help but smile. "Hikaru, I'm not a bit surprised. Your magic hasn't faded since Saturday nights at Starfleet. I even wondered if some of those Vulcan women were going to follow you home from that party. Whatever you've got, it works on men, women, humans, Vulcans, probably Horta too."

"Flirting is all I plan to do here. Unlike Jim, I try to steer clear of potential political incidents. Hell, this isn't shore leave," he sighed. "All we've got is this Andorian-Orion theory, perhaps a spurned Vulcan. Maybe we all need to get the hell off this planet."

"I'm not leaving without Spock, and until I know that Sarek's name is clear. They're my family now, I can't abandon them. I love them."

"Hey, don't cry again, it's all right. Let's take this up later. Maybe we can ask Jim." They returned to the parlor.

"How do you call that, what he does?" asked T'voria. Seeing Nyota's confused look, she clarified. "Doctor McCoy. He makes his mouth small and makes a sound, but not singing, and now my children do it too."

"Oh! Whistle. He's taught your little ones to whistle."

"Where is Jim, anyway?" Sulu wondered.

Sietla ran into the room, frowning. "Captain Kirk, he is not here. Gone out. He did not ask me to go with him, T'sai Uhura. Sorry. We go search for him now."

...

After only five minutes on the street, Jim's tense shoulders were relaxing already. He'd just go for a short walk around the neighborhood, clear his head. Not only did he feel uneasy around children, unhappy women made him uncomfortable too. Sometimes it was impossible to know how to make them happy again. He knew how much Nyota loved Spock, but seeing her worry was almost like watching her mourn. She had played with and sung to the children, but she was different, he could see it. If she'd been his girl, he could have made her smile, even from a hospital bed. Perhaps in a hospital bed; adjustable mattresses held erotic possibilities.

A light, dry breeze stirred his hair and he sighed happily. Maybe Vulcan security forces would catch the attackers, and he could go for a camel ride, or borrow whatever passed for a motorcycle on New Vulcan.

A large, green skinned man approached him; he was too green to be a Vulcan. Jim blinked. He was familiar enough with Orion women; Nyota's roommate had provided an in-depth education. He hoped she'd forgiven him for not going along with that love stuff. They were cadets, after all, and attachments were a bad idea. Orion men, he didn't know much about. Gaila was estranged from her family and hadn't sent any vengeful brothers or cousins after him to beat him up. Why was this Orion staring at him? The recent Federation crackdown on smuggling involved mass arrests of Orion pirates, but they hadn't been abused. Anyway, he wasn't in Starfleet uniform. There was no obvious reason why this guy should look so angry.

"She didn't finish the job, but I will," snarled the man, pulling out a gleaming knife from his pocket.

"Shit!" Jim yelled, surprised. "Doesn't anybody on this planet believe in using phasers?"

Reflexively, his hand moved toward his hip.

..........................................

Seasoned in the unpredictable realities of Starfleet life, Jim had stopped by his room to collect his phaser before he slipped out of Sarek's house. The phaser remained locked in its case during the children's visit, but he hadn't wanted to go for an unarmed walk while he was an active target for at least one angry resident of New Vulcan. Unfortunately, it was only while he faced this new enemy that he realized that the phaser might not be fully charged.

"Listen, man. I have a rule: I only get stabbed once a week. Drop that knife and I won't shoot you."

Shooting an opponent was one of Jim's least favorite real-life actions, anyway. Games and simulators were different. Angry though this guy was, the raw edge of emotion in his voice hinted at a different solution. Jim Kirk was no expert in psychological operations, but he'd talked down more than few bullies and thugs during the pre-Starfleet wilderness of his life.

The Orion man moved closer, his breathing heavy and so ragged that his shoulders moved.

Jim's fingers slid across his hip from his phaser to his communicator. That was always charged; he maintained contact with the landing party, and he'd also hoped to receive a message from that Vulcan woman. Jim had set the silent alarm function on so many missions now that he was able to press the raised alarm symbol on the switch without looking down.

Whether the Enterprise crew would find him breathing or bleeding, he couldn't know.

...

Nyota lowered her voice so that T'voria and the children, who were now seated in an office with one of Sarek's security staff nearby, could not hear. "Len, I'm part of this crew. I'm going." She squared her shoulders in a rigid officer's posture, but Leonard easily read the concern in her eyes.

"Nyota, I know you're as worried about Jim as the rest of us, but I don't need to remind you that I'm next in the chain of command. With Jim gone and Spock unconscious, I'm your acting Commanding Officer." McCoy felt the muscles in his jaw clench as she looked away, biting her lip with frustration. "Lieutenant, I order you to remain in this house. Sarek's not conscious yet either; as his daughter-in-law, wouldn't he trust the management of his house to you?"

"I understand. I'll remain here, as ordered."

"It's the risk we all take. Nyota, I want some of us to make it out of this in one piece. Stay here and give us all a chance."

"Please be careful."

"Aren't we always careful, in our own reckless way?" McCoy's fingers brushed her shoulder, and he left.

...

"Drop the knife. I don't know you. If your problem is with the Federation, we can talk." Jim spoke loudly, hoping to draw the attention of at least one Vulcan neighbor to the empty street.

Where were those Vulcan neighbors? Did Vulcans have some sort of meditation siesta? Where was his crew?

The Orion man scoffed, "I take no orders from humans," and charged at Jim.

Jim was a big man - tall enough to make a smaller person feel temporarily adored and protected while pressed against his muscular body - but he was fast. Leaping out of the way, he moved his torso to the left of the Orion's jabbing hand. Pebbles rattled beneath his feet as he put distance between himself and the knife.

Jim ducked a punch and evaded a second knife thrust; he moved one forearm into a defensive posture and kept up the trash talk. "Does your girlfriend always make you do her dirty work?"

Unconsciously, his words shifted to the slang he'd spoken as a teenage 'frequent flier' cycling through the Iowa juvenile court system.

"She don't love you, man? Is that yer problem? She'll let ya risk prison?"

The knife swung closer; Jim seized the Orion's wrist, twisting it so that the other man grunted.

"If we're gettin' this close you oughta tell me yer name. Who are you?"

They struggled, pushing against each other. Jim tried to head-butt the Orion, but couldn't get the right angle.

"Let go," Jim demanded. "It ain't worth it. Whatever you two got, it ain't worth this. Drop the knife." Jim drove his knee against the man's crotch; the man exhaled loudly, then gasped for air. Dirty fighting was beneath a Starfleet officer, but the low blow weakened the Orion's grip long enough for Jim to push himself free and move a couple of meters away. Should he run? Orions were strong; this guy might catch him, stab him.

"Give it up. You wanna go to jail, man? Federation jail?"

A stream of unfamiliar Orion words erupted.

"I don't understand Orion cussing, but I know you don't trust me. I can't promise you nothin' but you're the one on the security cameras, man, not her. Drop the knife. You ain't gonna make it. Vulcans are Federation. They'll hunt your ass down and hand it back to you without smilin'. Drop the knife."

The man hesitated; not long, but just long enough.

...

Sulu managed to pull his communicator from his pocket and bark commands into it while he ran.

"Location tracker, find Captain," he panted.

"Forward. Ten seconds at current speed."

Just enough time to turn the right corner, followed closely by Scotty, McCoy, and two large Vulcan men.

...

"T'voria, I know that Vulcans do not lie," Nyota whispered, "but I need you to pretend that nothing's wrong until they bring Jim back."

"I understand. There are moments when, as a mother, I seem compelled to practice mild deceptions or to omit details."

"I'll do my best to protect your children from observing any injuries or violence." Nyota gestured towards the phaser at her hip. "My phaser is on a safety setting. Please don't tell them I have the phaser. It might frighten them. I made cookies yesterday - no chocolate - perhaps that will keep them occupied for a little while?"

"Many Vulcans dislike sweet foods, as I am sure you know," T'voria replied as her she watched the children uncover the plate that Nyota had brought from the kitchen. "However, my little ones appear to regard these 'cookies' as an important cross-cultural experiment. You may leave at least one for your mother," she said more loudly.

The tall Vulcan teenager, the one who seemed to be training to be both a secretary and a valet, rushed into the room. "T'sai Uhura," he blurted out, unable to keep his voice free of excitement, "Osu Sarek has awoken."

...

The Enterprise men, phasers drawn, and the Vulcans formed a loose circle around the Orion man.

"Cease fighting," one of the Vulcans shouted. "Planetary security is on its way. There is nowhere you can go."

"Surrender, and the Federation may be lenient with you," Sulu called out.

"Yer erse is oot the windae", Scotty yelled. "This willnae end well fer ye."

As though frustrated by the profusion of accents, the Orion man snarled, leaned back, aimed at Jim, and threw the knife. Jim made a low football dive, landing face first in the dirt. McCoy and Scotty fired simultaneously. Sulu's boots skittered across the dusty pavement as he quickly retrieved the knife. Stunned, the Orion jerked, grimaced, and collapsed on the ground.

McCoy knelt by Jim's side. "Captain?"

Coughing, Jim pulled himself to his feet and brushed himself off. "I'm fine, he didn't get me either." He looked down at the torn front of his shirt and a bloody patch on his chest. "I might could use some disinfectant on this scrape here. And a new shirt."

Sulu balanced the blade across his hand as though weighing it. "Neither one of your assassins knows a damned thing about knife fighting. This is the wrong type for throwing." He turned to the uniformed Vulcan security officer approaching them. "Greetings, Officer. Lieutenant Commander Sulu, of the Federation Ship Enterprise. Here's your evidence." Sulu held out the knife to the officer handle first with the blade pointed away from his body.

"Chief Medical Officer McCoy, Enterprise. Pardon me for seeming rude, but are these streets not patrolled, or does every house depend upon hired muscle? I thought that this neighborhood was within the diplomatic quarter," McCoy grumbled. "If it hadn't been for the tech we brought with us and these loyal men from the manor house, y'all mighta been responding to the death of a Starfleet captain."

Impassive, the Vulcan officer blinked at McCoy and responded, "We acknowledge the serious nature of a physical assault upon a Federation representative. However, the ratio of security officers to residents on New Vulcan could be described as challenging. Our vehicles are not capable of unusual speeds. In addition," the man droned as the Orion's hands and feet were secured and he was placed in a security vehicle, "it is probable that other crimes are taking place even now."

"As a commissioned Starfleet Officer, I request an interview with the prisoner, to be conducted by Captain Kirk here and Commanding Officer Spock, with the presence of Sarek and any additional officers and witnesses we see fit."

The Vulcan officer's bored expression changed as he heard the names Spock and Sarek. "Of course," he said, his manner suddenly alert. "I will be pleased to help you make any necessary arrangements."

...

Sarek was calm and drowsy; he smiled slightly when Nyota touched his hand.

"Ko-fu Nyota? Is Spock awake?" he murmured.

"Not yet, unfortunately. Are you well?"

"Yes. The trance was effective. I will sleep for some time, and perhaps join you and the crew for a meal tomorrow."

"I'm so glad you're all right. I will leave you now. Rest well."

Sarek's voice sounded a bit stronger. "Nyota, as soon as Spock awakens, please send him to me. There is something he must discuss with you, and I wish him to be prepared."

Nyota hesitated; the subject was clearly a private one, even though Sarek said it concerned her. "Yes, Sarek. I will wait for him to tell me."

Nyota went down the hall to check on her bondmate. Spock lay on his back. She moved close to hear his breathing. The exhalations were long and slow, barely audible. Sighing, Nyota prepared to leave. She was accustomed to handling crisis situations on the Enterprise. How naïve she had been to imagine that the visit to New Vulcan would be free of such situations. She leaned further over the bed, adjusting the lightweight sheet covering Spock's body.

A light pressure moved over one of her breasts, on the bare skin between the angled neckline of her dress and the low neckline of the camisole she wore underneath. Nyota looked down to see Spock's eyes open and gazing up at her with something beyond his usual amorous intensity. His lips were still parted from the kiss he'd pressed against her bosom and he closed them in a slow, sensual movement. Nyota glanced toward the open door. The Vulcan nurse, who had stepped outside the door to give her some privacy, appeared not to have seen Spock's intimate kiss. She leaned over Spock again.

"Tal-kam?" she whispered.

He didn't answer, but blinked slowly and closed his eyes again, seeming to sink back into the trance. Nyota gently touched the inside of her wrist to his forehead and his high, angled cheekbones. His skin felt warm and dry. He was not feverish, but perhaps she could ask McCoy later about delirium and infection. Her communicator sounded then; she listened to the recorded message from the crew.

T'voria did not complain when a relieved Nyota hugged her and the children. Nyota explained that she had received an all-clear message from McCoy and the crew, and arranged to have mother and children escorted home.

"I thank you many, many times over for visiting, despite the strange occurrences at the end of this day."

"We felt welcomed and appreciated, and your concern for our safety is very kind. My children have received an unusual education today; they may keep their father distracted for some time with their version of today's events." She raised her eyebrows. "I wish you and your crew peace and safety. Please tell me if it will be acceptable for us to visit again. The company of Enterprise men is...agreeable. Do not misunderstand, I prefer my husband's company above all, but your crew men are...likeable."

"It's all right, I think that I understand. I'm very fond of them all myself, even though Spock is first for me. Be kind to your mother, little ones, she's had a long day. I will tell everyone from the Enterprise how much you enjoyed visiting them."

When she was once again alone, Nyota asked the lanky teenage valet/secretary where she could borrow a communications computer.

The boy led her to a small office, the same one where Spock had slept during their argument some days ago. He left the human lady alone, mystified by the secrets and strange behaviors of Spock and his beautiful wife. Humans - and half-humans - seemed to lead more dramatic lives than many Vulcans. He must try to keep his job with Sarek, if only to satisfy his curiosity about human guests.

...

"Gaila? Are you feeling all right?"

Gaila wiped her face with her hand and pasted on a smile that didn't show itself in her eyes. "Hello, Nyota! People need to grow up and treat me right. Otherwise, nothing's wrong. How are you?"

"Honey, what's the matter? I was calling on Federation business; it's urgent, but I want us to plan some time to talk together later. You don't seem to be all right."

"Can't talk about it. Give me the Federation business, quick. I need the distraction."

"Gaila, it's a long story, but I need your help with language support and possible regional accent interpretation for an Orion man. He's involved in a criminal assault case against Jim Kirk. I know there's a bad history between you and Jim, but this is all business. Do you want to deal with it? I can ask a different Orion speaker if you're uncomfortable doing this."

"No! If it's business, I'll do it, Jim or no Jim. Starfleet comes first. Anyway, I know exactly how many Orions there are in Starfleet, and you may not be able to contact all of them easily. I'll help."

"Thanks, Gaila, I owe you one." She reset the channel and her voice took on a professional, formal tone. "Switching to open channel now, recording. Lieutenant Nyota Uhura of the Enterprise, establishing communication. Special language translation request with regard to an Orion prisoner, accused of attempted murder against Captain James Kirk on New Vulcan, from whence this communication originates. I will report to the central prison facility for an interview with the prisoner within ten minutes; at that time I will open a communications channel allowing audio communication and questioning of the prisoner. Uhura out."

...

"I will repeat the question," Gaila said tersely. "Lieutenant Uhura asked if you know how to speak Andorian. Please respond."

The Orion man crossed his big arms over his chest and looked at Gaila insolently. "An Orion woman working for Starfleet? Are you working on your knees? That's the only thing humans think Orion females are good for."

Nyota translated the man's coarse insults while she glared at his sneering face; it hurt her to do it, but she wanted her crewmates to know exactly what was being said. Gaila's face on the screen was expressionless aside from a slight narrowing of her eyes, the only thing that made Nyota think the Orion man's scorn hurt her friend.

"You watch your mouth," McCoy said coldly. "I don't care to hear this kind of talk against women."

Scotty frowned; one hand twitched. "Show her respect. Ye owe her an apology."

"Answer the officer's questions," Nyota spoke in Orion, using the most disinterested tone she could muster.

The Orion man turned and scowled at Nyota. "What freak show is this, with a human translating Orion?" He switched to Standard and turned back to Gaila. "You forget your place. If you were back on Orion I'd straighten you out. Traitor bitch-"

Jim, McCoy, Scotty, and Sulu leaned forward simultaneously. The Orion leaned back even though a table was between them.

"Shut the hell up before I kick your ass," Jim said quietly. Everyone turned and looked at him.

"I know this interview is being recorded. I also know how to call a favor in when I need to. Officer Scott already said it, I'll say it again since you don't to get it. Show her respect. You insult her one more time and you'll find out how much verbal and physical information I can get removed from official records."

"You dare threaten me?"

"Was I not clear? It's your choice."

Sulu fixed the Orion with an icy stare. "Think it over. He's got backup. I already know that you can't knife fight. I know five forms of martial arts and I have forty-five different weapons certifications. I also have a mom and a sister. You want to take me on, asshole? Didn't think so. Drop the woman stuff."

Nyota had considered Sulu a friend for years; now her admiration grew by another dimension.

"Do you speak Andorian?" she repeated to the prisoner.

The man slammed his fist down on the table so hard that its legs scraped against the floor. "Yes! I speak Andorian, and Romulan, and Standard, and Vulcan. All are useful when dealing with disgusting humans and anyone stupid enough to give up their personal freedom and wealth to the Federation."

"Who's working with you? Other Orions?" asked Jim.

"I will tell you nothing. You see I am alone now."

"What is your real name?" Gaila spoke in Orion.

"Thelev," the man snapped.

"But the man I met - that Thelev is Andorian," Nyota said.

"An Andorian disguise can be bought in any large city," Thelev replied.

"Sure fooled me," McCoy said. "I saw your antennae movin' during that party."

"Mechanical, with heat sensors; when beings stood close to me, the antennae moved." Thelev shrugged. "Simple."

Scotty asked, "Exactly what do ye want from the Federation?"

"Dilithium crystals. All of the large ships moving through major sectors of known space need dilithium to power their engines. I have been smuggling dilithium for years on my own ships," the Orion said proudly.

"I knew that you were a pilot," Sulu said. "Did you try to kill Gav?"

"Gav, that annoying Tellarite, wanted to keep the Coridian planetary system out of the Federation. His political meddling threatened my supply and transportation routes. Before Gav got involved, I was able to take my ships in and steal as much dilithium as I wanted; the Coridians didn't have enough firepower to oppose me and the pirates I hired. Gav nagged the Federation about the Coridians, and suddenly I was getting fired on by Starfleet ships whenever I tried to make a raid! Gav was costing me money."

"Amoral git," muttered Scotty.

"That doesn't justify murder," Jim said. "Where does Sarek come into this?"

"I tried to fake tal-shaya when I ambushed Gav at the reception. I waited until the reception to attack him because I knew Sarek would be present. When old Vulcan was destroyed, some of the most skilled martial artists went with it. Sarek and Spock are known for their interest in traditional Vulcan arts, and they would be more likely than an average Vulcan to know that tal-shaya is an execution technique. I was told that Sarek was famous for his martial arts skill in his youth. It was simple: kill Gav, and blame Sarek. Sarek married a human and consorts with humans; he is obviously not a logical thinker and he might have become emotional after Gav argued with him. We-I thought that everyone would believe that Sarek had gone mad, and the Federation would focus on Sarek's trial and ignore the Coridian system for a while."

Jim narrowed his eyes. "Who's the woman? Cooperate with us."

Thelev smirked. "Didn't you just insist that I respect women? I am cooperating. I'm respecting the lady's privacy."

"You've already got two attempted murder charges against you. Ain't a single judge or juror in the Federation gonna take it easy on you, but you might could make your situation a mite better with a full confession." McCoy raised his voice. "Who and where is she?"

A taunting sneer changed the pitch of Thelev's voice. "Oh, she's right here on New Vulcan...maybe. I gave her the autopilot information for my ship. Maybe she can't knife fight, but she knows how to shoot a ship's phaser and follow a nav map application...right to the Enterprise. She doesn't like you humans any more than I do. Maybe even less."

...........................................

Inside a police interrogation room in the capital of New Vulcan

Jim Kirk managed to keep his voice even. "Thelev, the record shows that you have made an indirect threat against the safety of a Federation ship. Tell us where that woman is and give us the autopilot code for the ship and its location."

"And if I don't?" sneered Thelev.

"Don't play with Starfleet. We play fair, but we play hard." Jim nodded at the Vulcan security officers. "Return him to his cell." The Vulcans clamped a movement inhibitor on the Orion's wrist and returned him to the cell, a small room with walls and floor covered in a soft composite surface and a force field across a barred door.

The Enterprise crew moved into crisis mode; everyone had directed their communicators to open secure channels to contact the ship.

Jim's face was grim and the easy Midwestern lilt disappeared from his voice. "Mr. Scott, contact the Enterprise, request all shields up."

"Aye, Captain, and all her phasers are at the ready. I'll use the comm here at the station to speak more easily with Chekov." Scotty ran down the hall, shouting for the Chief of Vulcan security.

"Mr. Sulu, exercise Federation regulations and request a security detachment to accompany you to the main spaceport, look for any ships scheduled to leave the area - ask about women pilots, or any pilots at all. If Thelev used a disguise, his partner may do the same. Stop all outbound flights."

"On it, Captain." Sulu turned to Nyota. "I remember your description of that ship you saw the first day - I looked it up and I think I know what make and model it is." He dashed out of the room.

"Doctor, the usual preparations."

McCoy stepped into the corridor to use his communicator, directing medical staff to ready sickbay for an attack on the ship.

"Lieutenant Uhura, you've already started?"

Nyota nodded at Kirk, waved a quick goodbye to Gaila, and continued relaying Captain's orders to her communications staff on ship, directing them to prepare all personnel for possible attack. She left the room to find Vulcan security staff to help her access satellite feed information monitoring air traffic on New Vulcan.

Jim turned back to the screen as the room emptied; Gaila's image was still visible.

"Captain? We're finished. Unless there's anything else, I'll sign off now." Her voice and facial expression were controlled, flattened. Gaila's smile had attracted him, years ago; it made her seem happy, sexy and carefree.

He'd thought that it would be so easy to enjoy her, and then walk away.

"I'm sorry, Gaila," Jim said.

Her shoulders lifted in a light shrug. "What can we do about it now? It's just the way things are."

Both of them knew that they were not discussing Thelev's interrogation.

"Maybe it shouldn't be that way," Jim said. "I appreciated everything, even if it wasn't obvious."

"Oh."

"It took me a while to understand. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Thank you for defending me. Goodbye, Jim."

Gaila's image vanished.

...

Surrounded by a loose circle of three tall, muscular Vulcans, Nyota returned to Sarek's manor. It would be easier to use one of the offices there, and Nyota didn't want to be far from a possibly feverish Spock.

Scotty joined Sulu at the spaceport, where Scotty charmed disgruntled pilots into understanding the urgent need for a temporary delay of all embarkations and flights. Sulu secured the help of two women spaceport staff, one human and the other a diasporic Vulcan. Both were excited by the break in routine and the presence of appealing human officers, and they commandeered a transport vehicle to drive Sulu and Scotty between several hangars and airstrips. Sulu requested searches of all smaller spacecraft resembling the one Nyota had seen flying overhead during the ill-fated camel trip on her first day. Scotty asked ground crew if they'd seen anything unusual.

Everyone knew of the unregulated flight. No one expressed surprise that the Vulcans had chosen not to shoot down the ship. It had been leaving New Vulcan airspace after all, not entering it, and there had been no obvious sign of an attack. It was only logical.

"Unregulated ships could be flown by smugglers, some other criminal types," Scotty mused. "Could have been Thelev, but, naw, he won't admit it."

"That ship isn't here. We've searched this place well enough." Sulu wiped the sweat from his forehead; the dusty airstrip tarmac reflected the end-of-the-day heat.

The Vulcan woman from spaceport staff offered him a damp cloth from a refrigerated box inside the vehicle, which he gratefully accepted. Not to be outdone, the human woman ran into the hangar and returned with cold drinks for all of them, returning Sulu's smile with a sultry one of her own.

Sulu fought back a sigh. This Federation crisis was badly timed; if he weren't trying to save the Enterprise, he could be enjoying a busy social life on New Vulcan, perhaps starting with that Vulcan waiter's offer to buy him a drink at Lullaby and continuing with the ladies of this spaceport. Transient experiences, yes, but something to remember during long, lonely weeks in deep space.

He opened his communicator and messaged Jim and the crew: Ship not here. Returning to Vulcan police/security station.

Scotty was saying something about flying. "...and so we must borrow or rent a small ship of our own."

"For...?"

"Aye, this small ship is not here, we ken. But the countryside here is full of valleys, rock formations where a rascal could hide a ship."

"New Vulcan has been completely mapped by satellites, but it's doubtful that every valley and mountain range has been completely explored. Nyota said that she and those Vulcan women hid in a cave when the small ship appeared. Some of the caves could be large enough to hide a ship in." Sulu turned to the two women. "Thank you very much for your help. I'll contact the Federation on your behalf."

"Aye, thank ye for all ye've done out here on this hot tarmac, ladies." Scotty winked at the spaceport staff. "Ye have been pure dead brilliant. I appreciate yer gumption."

That Scots talk gets 'em every time, an amused Sulu thought as the human woman winked back at his engineer crewmate and the tips of the Vulcan woman's ears darkened to a pine forest green. I concede to Scotty.

But hours later, when Sulu checked the public channel on his communicator, both spaceport women had discreetly messaged him with their personal contact information. It was just as well that he didn't compare notes with Scotty, who found similar messages from the very same ladies waiting for him. Life on a colony was uncertain; people believed in backup plans.

...

Sarek's Manor House

Sarek was still asleep when Nyota returned to the manor house. Remembering Spock's hot lips pressed against her skin, she requested a private moment with Spock, and the Vulcan nurse left the room, grateful for the break.

The bedsheets rustled; Spock sat up. His eyes seemed larger, darker than usual, and he stared at her intensely. Nyota rushed over and embraced him.

"Oh, beloved, at last! Tal-kam, I'm so glad you're awake, and well." She planted a light kiss on his mouth, made him drink a glass of water. "So much has happened, there's an emergency - just a moment." She moved away from the bed to seal and soundproof the door before discussing Thelev's threat of an attack against the Enterprise.

As Nyota closed the door, a wall of heat moved against her back. Strong arms twined around her waist, and she let out a small, surprised gasp. Spock's thirty-six hours of stillness had almost made her forget how quickly and quietly he moved when hunting something, or someone. The comforting, familiar smell and feel of Spock surrounded her, and his mind gently brushed against hers.

"Mmm, ashayam," he moaned against her neck.

"Honey, did you hear me? The Enterprise is on emergency defense watch."

"Can the emergency wait? I have an urgent need." His teeth sank gently into her neck, and his warm hands moved over her breasts and belly, teasing them, lightly squeezing them; she pressed her hands against the door to keep from falling. She began to tremble from her thighs to her shoulders.

"Quivering, Nyota? You are as eager as I am." A wave of pleasure flowed from Spock across the mental bond as he turned her around, lifted her, and pressed her back against the door, fitting her legs around his waist and moving his hardness against her as he gazed down into her eyes.

Why now? Nyota thought, frustrated, as her hips pushed back against him. She rubbed her face against his neck and impulsively bit him back; Spock made a purring sound, and growled when she licked the bite.

Nyota tried to control herself. I can't take this. I've wanted him for days. I want him inside me so badly right now that I can hardly think, but I can't have him.

Spock kissed her forehead, then her mouth. "Nyota, it has been two months, four weeks, and one day since we enjoyed each other in this position."

"I hate to do this, but Spock, listen to me. The Enterprise may be attacked within the hour."

Spock froze and something about his facial expression came into focus. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. Stress, fear, and a clear sense that he concealed something from her came across the bond. He lowered her to the ground.

"I apologize; I wish to deal with this emergency immediately. I am not feverish or delirious. The trance did heal me, but when I left it...I have desired you for so many days. My desire is compounded by -" he closed his eyes again, shuddered, and opened them again.

Her lover was gone, and her Commanding Officer returned.

"Spock? What's wrong? What are you trying to tell me?"

"Only that...I am well enough now to help save our ship. Please provide me with a briefing while we return to our quarters. I will prepare myself for duty now."

Nyota tried to calm her breathing as she summarized the events of the past day and a half, speaking in Spanish to guard details from the household staff. After leaving Spock to wash and dress she went to the main part of the house to inform Sarek's staff that Spock had awoken, find something for him to eat, and monitor communications with the Enterprise crew.

Nyota allowed herself one selfish thought. If they did manage to save the Enterprise, absolve Sarek, and catch the mysterious woman with the knife, she was going to search this house for a punching bag. She needed to take out her frustrations - sexual and otherwise - on something that wouldn't hide the truth from her.

...

Vulcan Security / Police Force Station

New Vulcan

Leonard McCoy assisted Jim with communications to the Enterprise after receiving Sulu's message, and then went for a walk in the police station's courtyard - something that seemed to be a common feature of buildings on this hot planet - to think. He picked up a dry branch and idly scraped at it with a pocketknife. Truth serums, torture, and forced confessions were unacceptable within the Federation; abuse of prisoners was considered uncivilized, inhumane. Len understood Jim's frustration with Thelev's refusal to provide information. The thought of losing the Enterprise to some greedy small-time crooks disturbed everyone on the crew.

We, Thelev had said during interrogation. We-I thought that everyone would believe that Sarek had gone mad, and the Federation would focus on Sarek's trial and ignore the Coridian system for a while.

"Hmm," Leonard said aloud. Love and lust made some folks do bad things, such as trying to frame diplomats to cover up crimes, or stab Starfleet captains. He went back inside and asked the security Chief and Jim Kirk to give him a few minutes with Thelev.

...

Baffled, the Orion stared at McCoy as he strolled up to the cell, placed a chair near the edge of the force field, and settled down with a small piece of wood and a pocketknife. McCoy smiled at him and began to form a rough shape from the wood.

Thelev gaped at McCoy. "What madness is this? You carve sticks for some sort of torture?"

McCoy leaned back in his chair. "I'm not really carving; never was much of an artist. I'm just whittling. My Daddy used to do it in the evenings. It's kinda relaxin', you ought to try it yourself some time. Sorry, I forgot." He smiled. "You got a lil' problem with knives. Seems like your lady friend has a knife problem, too. Thangs might go a mite easier for you both if you'd just tell us her name and where to find her."

"I will not betray her," Thelev said. McCoy heard a touch of resignation in his voice.

"Aw, you seem mighty sweet on her. Is she gonna come bail you out?" McCoy asked innocently.

The Orion man fidgeted, but said nothing.

The doctor changed tactics, speaking in a gentle, friendly tone free of sarcasm. "Does she love you back? Treat you right?"

Thelev rubbed his hands together, sighed, and shrugged.

"Ain't that a shame? I'd be willing to show my face and speak up for my ex-wife, even though we're divorced; I wouldn't want her to be all alone, the way you are now." McCoy shook his head. "Goodness gracious. Maybe she's already left the planet on that ship. Lieutenant Sulu has a few questions about that ship for you, by the way. He and the Vulcans worked out a lil' deal for you."

The Orion man glanced up. McCoy smiled indulgently and returned his attention to the little piece of wood.

"What do you know, there's a stubborn knot in this wood. Reminds me of knotty pine in the Carolinas."

"What is this 'deal'?" Thelev asked hesitantly.

McCoy smiled innocently. "Oh, surely you wouldn't be interested. You'd have to tell 'em where the ship is, and disable the autopilot code. Turning in your accomplice might sweeten the deal but you already done told me you don't wanna do that, so..." he shrugged and returned his attention to whittling.

"What do I get in return?"

"Better ask Sulu and Captain Kirk about that. Though I do hear tell," McCoy whispered, leaning a little closer to the force field, "in a case similar to yours, somebody managed to get their attempted murder charges dropped. Whether they might choose to drop the murder attempt against Gav or the murder attempt against Captain Kirk, I cain't tell you; that's up to the court. Think it over. You might could come out of this in less trouble than when you went in."

The doctor stood up and held out the small carved duck, turning it around beneath the harsh prison light. "Not bad, considering how long it's been since I've been near any ducks." He began to walk away.

"Wait!" Thelev shouted. "Call the lieutenant. I will tell him about the ship."

McCoy turned to face him. "You'd best tell him the honest truth."

Thelev scowled, knowing he had little to negotiate with. "I will do what he asks."

McCoy nodded at one of the Vulcan guards, who turned to a communication panel on the wall to contact Sulu. "And the lady?" he asked Thelev.

"She is Vulcan," Thelev snapped. "She will not go easily. Why should I tell you more?"

"Thelev, you're half smart and half stubborn today. Why not make it all smart? Tell us who she is."

"Can you promise that she will be treated well? She is a Vulcan lady of high rank. She loves adventure - that's why she was with me - but she's never been in jail before."

"How she's treated is up to her, whether she surrenders or not. Vulcans believe in justice. All I can do is tell them what you tell me," McCoy finished as Sulu, Scotty, and Jim approached.

Thelev glared at them, and when he spoke his voice was full of resignation. "Very well. I will tell you where to look for her."

"Thanks, Thelev. Let me pass along a bit of advice from my Great-Uncle Cleophus Boatwright. If you wrassle with a pig, it don't matter who wins, because y'all are both going to end up covered in muck...and the pig ain't really going to notice."

Capital City, New Vulcan

Vulcan Security/Police Headquarters

The Enterprise crew stared at the identity database image of the gently bred Vulcan lady from a good family.

McCoy noted the woman's haughty expression and the expensive-looking jewels she wore. "Well, I'll be. I wouldn't have thought it was someone like her, not by a country mile. No offense, Thelev, but as a smuggler, you don't seem like her, uh, type."

Thelev's face contorted in a humorless smile. "Social class is a game for Orions. I enjoy making high-born ladies beg to enjoy my sexual skills. I was the one played for a fool this time. She promised to break her bond with her husband and create a new bond with me. She told me that I excited her; she liked my strong arms and the thrills I brought to her life. The lady was bored with her husband, who spends little time on New Vulcan - they haven't done a mind meld in years, she said, and she excels at lies and deception," he sneered. "Of course she is a good smuggling partner. She promised to link me up with outcast Vulcans on other planets so I could sell to them. We'd get incredibly rich, she said. Run away together." He shook his head in disgust. "Why did I listen? Two of us against the Federation? It was fated to fail."

Jim said, "It was right of you to confess. Tell us where to find her."

So this was all about greed, lust, and selfishness. Thelev had believed himself to be in love? Jim knew he didn't love anyone enough to kill. He did love his ship, and Starfleet. The Enterprise might even now be in the smaller ship's gun sights; he would do anything to stop the attack, even get attacked with a knife again.

"If she knows of my arrest, she is even now leaving the city, on her way to a private hangar that she rented for my ship, the small flyer," Thelev continued. "Your men wasted their time searching the public spaceport. She carries with her a small ignition and security device - it looks like a metal tube with a screen set into one side, and I programmed it with a code to allow her to start my ship in case of emergency. If the Vulcans will give you a similar device I can program the new device and it will override any attack functions of the ship if she has already left the surface of New Vulcan."

Jim nodded. He'd seen similar devices during Starfleet missions. "This had better be true, and safe, Thelev. No bombs, no tricks, or else you and everyone in your network - and I don't mean just your lady - are going down in flames."

The Orion man's face was bleak. "I do not lie, nor will I trick you. What would I get out of it? No wealth, not now. No woman. I only want to end this sorry stage in my life. "

...

Capital City of New Vulcan

A bridge, downtown

The elegantly dressed Vulcan woman tried to message Thelev through the communication device, only to receive a cryptic message that the device was now under control of New Vulcan security forces. Gasping, she stopped the transport vehicle at the side of the bridge she was crossing, opened the window, and threw the communication device into the river so that her location would not be traced. The message explained why Thelev had not contacted her to report that he had killed that Starfleet Captain, creating confusion within the Federation as she desired.

Somehow, the Orion had failed to follow her directions and most likely been arrested; Vulcan security forces would find her next. It might be too late already. She would have to leave the planet. Sunset was two hours away. She had flown the small ship by herself several times, and was confident in her ability to get herself off planet until things settled down. She would need some supplies first, and more foreign hard currency than she had stowed away at home. If she hurried to the city center now she could obtain both.

...

Vulcan Security/Police Headquarters

Capital City, New Vulcan

After making sure that Sarek was comfortable and well protected, Spock and Nyota left the manor house to join the Enterprise crew. Spock's expression was grim as he drove the transport vehicle; Nyota knew that he was just as worried about the Enterprise as she. The ship housed hundreds of their colleagues, some friends among them, a few not quite friends, but all united to work for the common good, and all at risk of attack by someone angry and callous enough to strike all of them dead on a whim. It was difficult to focus her mind on possible solutions, but she managed. Spock was enthusiastically welcomed by the Enterprise men and regarded with some awe by the Vulcan officers. Spock greeted everyone calmly, his mind and demeanor switched into commanding officer mode. Nyota left the room to confer with Vulcan security about an encrypted open channel communicating with the Enterprise. Spock's eyes followed her despite himself. Long, flowing Vulcan skirts didn't completely deflect attention away from a shapely bottom, juicy thighs or long legs, especially when the fabric draped a certain way.

Spock wore a black civilian shirt, open at the collar. Small, dark green bruises mottled one side of his neck. Scotty glanced up, and the remark he'd been about to make to Spock faded on his lips as he saw the hickey. Apparently Spock and Nyota had had a 'moment'. Danger made some people randy; he'd never have imagined that Spock was one of them.

"Hmm. A change in the wind; it's become rather biting, I'd say," Scotty murmured.

Scotty exchanged a look with Sulu, and said nothing more. Jim was unable to keep silent. Spock seemed a bit tense and distracted; perhaps he hadn't noticed the hickey himself, with all of the pressure they were under. Jim welcomed the distraction as the group waited tensely for a Vulcan security detail to suit up and help them search the busy downtown streets for Thelev's mysterious lady.

"Uh, Spock. You've got something there." He tapped the side of his own neck. Spock narrowed his eyes at him, and raised his fingers to the bruise. Jim saw a hint of horrified embarrassment come over his First Officer's usually placid face as he realized what Jim saw.

Jim lowered his voice. "I know how to make those less obvious. Freeze a metal spoon, and use it to move the blood around a bit. The hickey won't go away immediately, but that might help it fade faster. Not that it matters if we lose the Enterprise, but I'm just sayin'."

Flustered, Spock muttered, "Thank you, Jim. I did not realize it was visible; she usually bites me in places where it does not show - er, excuse me. I will return soon." Spock turned and left the room as Jim stared after him.

Demure little Uhura bites him hard enough to bruise? And he likes it?

Shaking his head, Jim turned back to his crewmen and the Vulcans.

Good thing that Spock's not usually so talkative. There's some stuff I just don't need to know.

...

Spock shut the restroom door behind him; as soon as he was sure that he was alone and unobserved, he leaned against the wall and released a shuddering breath. The hardness at the front of his trousers nearly ached. Closing his eyes, he closed his palm over the bulge and lightly squeezed, once, twice, trying to take the edge off. The touch of his own hand wasn't enough. He wanted her hands, wanted to see her looking into his eyes then down as she unfastened his trousers and whispered to him about how much she wanted him inside her. Even after their years together, her desire still set his nerves and imagination aflame. The gradual approach of his pon farr only sharpened his craving. It was imperative that this matter be resolved safely, and that he could be alone with Nyota within the next few days.

Clearing his mind, he focused on calming his body. Images of the curves of Nyota's nude body surged to the front of his mind, but he pushed them away. Finally the heated feeling left him, and Spock knew that he could rejoin the crew.

Meditation might not be enough next time. If they saved the Enterprise - and even if they didn't - Spock had to convince Nyota to abandon all plans and follow him into the wilderness.

...

Unfortunately for the titled and gently bred Vulcan lady, the impassive Vulcan clerk in the currency exchange calmly stated that all of her financial accounts were frozen. The reasons were unclear. "Classified information withheld by planetary government, T'sai," the woman said emotionlessly. The clerk's eyes shone with curiosity, but she was too polite to ask. There was nothing to do but leave quickly.

Frozen accounts also made it impossible to purchase supplies in the better stores, and there was no time to open a credit account on the spot - using false identification and address information, of course - inside one of the less respectable shops.

She had insufficient time to return home and order a servant to go out and buy the items on her household account - that might be frozen too, and the servants might stupidly botch the order in their nervousness. If only those silly, overpaid creatures would follow her directions exactly and stop being so independent in their thinking, they would learn that there was little reason to be so nervous.

One door after another was closing. It was no matter - she still had her secret savings accounts, an especially fat one at the Bank of Risa. The green gold in the necklaces and bracelets she wore might be sold for a good price on any planet. Next time, she'd seduce someone with greater intelligence than Thelev. The foolish man had not solved the problem of locating a phaser on the nascent underground market of New Vulcan. Not that she knew much about illegal weapons purchases, but money solved most problems and made people agree with you. Simple as he was, the muscular Orion had failed to understand that.

Recently Thelev had become insecure, whining about her lack of affection and requesting proof of her love. Foolish man. I tried to kill for you, twice! I even took you to the gardens to kill Kirk, and rescued you when his crew saved him and you fled. You know I'll do anything for you. Can't you offer me more than sleeping with me and making promises?

The answer to Thelev's wheedling question was a flat no. He had moved enough dilithium to help her accumulate funds to plan a new life for herself, one in which she held political power as a wealthy New Vulcan citizen as well as power on other planets. Now her plans were shattered, and she had no more use for Thelev. She had few regrets. Thelev's body was aesthetically appealing, even though he was Orion. At least he wasn't human.

The thought disgusted her even now, as she hurried away from the bank to find the spot where she'd parked the transit vehicle. For some reason the streets of the capital were unusually busy tonight. Striding forward, she almost collided with a familiar-looking woman.

"Oh! Good evening, la-T'sai".

"T'voria." She barely nodded at the other Vulcan woman, who held the hand of a child on each side and blocked her path. Why did the eccentric woman stare at her so stupidly? It had been a mistake to let the uncouth simpleton anywhere near elevated Vulcan social circles, even with the Vulcan population diminished. The woman did manual labor - sewing clothes, without calling herself a designer or artisan - and T'voria had dared to befriend that Starfleet Communications Officer human who had the audacity to marry Sarek's half-breed son. T'voria was lucky to be acknowledged, but even the lowborn deserved basic politeness. If only she and her brats would get out of the way.

"Nam-tor (there [she] is). Do as Dr. McCoy taught you," T'voria told her children. She used an unfamiliar Standard word. "Whistle."

T'voria and her son pursed their lips, and the little girl placed her fingers in her mouth. All three of them blew air out through their mouths, making high pitched sounds.

Heads turned, and bodies moved hurriedly. The avenue was crowded, full of foreigners, with their strange clothes, smells and skin colors. Confused, the highborn Vulcan lady stopped in her tracks and stared at the petite, brown-skinned woman standing before her.

"T'sai T'ober. As a representative of Starfleet and the Federation, I place you in Federation custody, on charges of conspiracy to attempt murder and a count of attempted murder." Nyota spoke in clipped, formal Vulcan. "Come quietly; we'll make this look dignified, like we're having a conversation."

"What? This is a mistake." Lady T'ober glanced at the passerby around them, seeking an opening in the flow of people and camels. She turned back to Nyota and infused a sweet and insincere tone into her voice, as she had heard humans do. "T'sai Uhura, there has been a mistake." Her eyes moved as she noted the presence of that half-human annoyance, Spock, standing beside Nyota. "Vulcan women of my standing do not commit crimes. Nor do we fight and shoot, like you. If you did more than spread your legs for that half-Vulcan spawn, you would know this. Get out of my way."

Nyota kept her face expressionless and her head high. "Kroykah. See the Vulcan security around us? If they don't take you down then I will, lady. You've been rude to me since the day I got here. Cut the schoolyard stuff and give up."

With a sudden, unfeminine movement, T'ober ducked low and pushed between the couple, catching them off guard and running.

Nyota palmed her phaser, but the broad avenue was full of families, a few elderly Vulcans making an early evening paseo, workers on their way to or from jobs, people pushing food carts, and startled camels. Shooting meant the risk of injuring innocent people. Chaos rippled along the street. Spock, Nyota, several uniformed Vulcans, and the Enterprise crew ran through the crowd in pursuit of T'ober.

City Center, capital city of New Vulcan

Camels, Vulcans, and foreigners stumbled aside as the Enterprise crew and Vulcan security officers pursued T'ober, struggling to keep her in sight as she ran. Panic lent her strength; shouts of indignation and curiosity rose from the crowd as she shoved people aside.

Coincidence had brought T'voria and her children face-to-face with the Enterprise crew among the downtown crowds taking in the cooler evening air. Nyota explained that T'voria had known T'ober for years and would easily recognize her. "If you see her out here, just whistle," McCoy said. Eager to help, the Vulcan woman had taken the colloquial Standard expression literally. She wouldn't risk her children's safety by joining in the chase, but rocked on her feet excitedly as she watched Vulcan security forces and the Starfleet crew dash into the crowd.

T'ober took advantage of the distraction caused by a skittish camel running loose near a row of parked transport vehicles. As her pursuers avoided the animal's long, kicking legs, she jumped into her own vehicle and sped away.

The crew split up among the transport vehicles driven by Vulcan security officers; everyone obeyed and piled in, and the vehicles blazed down the street. Within a few seconds, Jim somehow managed to convince a young impressionable Vulcan officer to let him drive.

The chain of fleeing and pursuing vehicles rapidly exited the city limits.

McCoy clutched the edge of his seat. "Jim, be careful!"

Jim grinned, energized. "Won't catch her if I'm careful."

Vehicles fell under Jim's command as easily as potential lovers did, and he swerved and weaved in and out of the sparse traffic as though the transport were an extension of him.

Beep. Spock's irritated-sounding voice spoke over the vehicle's comm. System.

"Captain, please slow down. We will attempt a deception. Allow T'ober to believe that she has outrun you. Pull onto the next side road and follow the directions for a shortcut that I am now sending to your vehicle. A Vulcan air transport will take you to the hangar, where other Vulcan security officers are already waiting to stage an ambush. There is only a thirty-nine point nine percent possibility that she will board her ship; if she does so, Sulu will use the deactivation device to stop her. Her state of mind is aggressive and unpredictable, but our plan may work."

"Can't they just shoot, uh, stun her?" wondered McCoy.

After a brief, offended pause, Spock retorted, "Vulcan philosophy advocates nonviolence and a rational response even in situations such as -"

"Never mind, Spock," McCoy grumbled. "The plan's in action. We're taking the alternate road."

...

A private hangar and landing strip

Unincorporated land outside the capital city

New Vulcan

The amber colored light of early evening made the small hangar seem abandoned, until one saw the small spacecraft rolling out onto a pale red stretch of airstrip. T'ober hurried toward the ship, tapping and pressing commands into the device she held with one hand, and trying to hold up her long, fashionably draped skirts with the other hand.

Nyota recognized the spacecraft as the one she'd seen during the ill-fated camel ride on her first day. The ship resembled a displaced fish. An aerodynamic fin curved along its top. It was paneled with silver colored metal, the shine buffed to a dull gleam by dust particles and frequent entries and exits from planetary atmospheres.

As Spock had told Jim, several Vulcan officers had arrived at the hangar before T'Ober. Leaving their vehicles behind an unkempt hedge, they quietly surrounded the building.

The ship stopped moving and T'ober extended the device toward it; its door opened. She shoved the device into her skirt pocket clumsily, as though her hands were unsteady.

"T'sai T'ober," the Chief of Vulcan Security said loudly, "Pekhau. Halt immediately and surrender to Vulcan Security. You have violated criminal codes. Your title does not make you immune from prosecution." He strode forward with three other officers.

T'ober froze, looking around at the officers; then she snapped, "Duhsu (fool)! You forget who I am," and ran towards the open door of the spacecraft.

"Sulu! Disable her ship! This hands-off Vulcan social hierarchy's gonna cost me my Enterprise," shouted Jim.

Sulu tried to set the controls, then frowned down at the device he'd programmed with Thelev's instructions for disabling the spacecraft.

"Either Thelev lied to us about how he programmed this," Sulu said as the ship's engines began to hum, "or this piece of crap's broken. Something's wrong - "

Nyota ran into the gap between T'ober and the ship's open door, her phaser aimed at the other woman.

T'ober smirked and edged closer to the ship. Nyota fired a warning blast at the ground between the ship and T'ober's feet.

"How dare you fire at me! You savage! Do you know who I am, what I am?"

"Yeah, and I'm not impressed. Hands visible, and lie down on the ground."

T'ober bent down as though to comply, then seized a handful of reddish dirt, hurling it in Nyota's direction - an old but effective schoolyard trick. Nyota reacted quickly enough to narrow her eyes in a protective squint, but stones thumped against her chest, upsetting her balance. As she coughed and spit out dust, T'ober knocked her down, snarling abusive words in Vulcan.

Years ago, Nyota's Auntie 'Chelle had overheard Nyota ask her mother about shopping for her first bra, and had quietly joined the discussion to suggest shopping for self-defense classes as well. Auntie 'Chelle insisted that a woman should learn how to fight while lying on the ground. A hint of sadness in the older woman's eyes stopped Nyota from asking "Why on the ground?", but she dutifully took the lessons. As Nyota grew older, she had some unwelcome personal encounters that made it clear why her aunt had looked sad. At Starfleet Academy, Sulu helped her add a few moves to her prone position combat skills.

Combined self-defense training and judo technique worked well on the heavier body of a Vulcan, she was pleased to realize, as she kicked out and pushed with her legs and forearm. T'ober went flying, then sprawling in the red dust.

Unfortunately, Nyota lost her phaser during the scuffle. Wheezing and gasping for air, she rolled over to see T'ober pointing the weapon in her direction, even as the Vulcan officers and Spock rushed near to help.

"Kroykah (stop)!. The Federation will never let you escape," shouted Nyota. She switched from Standard to Vulcan. "Don't dishonor your family's good name."

T'ober struggled to her feet, shrugging her shoulders to move her long, trailing sleeves out of the way. The phaser wobbled in her hand.

Emotion threatened to engulf Spock. He wanted to strike T'ober or unholster his own phaser. His heart pounded in his side as despairing anger pushed away logic.

"T'sai, this violence is not fitting," he managed to say in an uneven voice. His hands clenched and unclenched involuntarily.

"If you won't listen to me, listen to Spock." Nyota appealed to the woman's prejudices. "He is Vulcan."

T'ober sneered. "Spock is not Vulcan enough." She narrowed her eyes at Nyota. "Look at the shabby human trash he took for his mate."

Nyota glanced at the phaser. The Vulcan woman held it awkwardly, a small matter of hand and finger placement. Being ignorant of how to shoot didn't mean that someone couldn't shoot at all; they would just shoot badly.

The ship's engines hummed and buzzed behind her. Sulu cursed loudly, saying something about setting an override. Nyota felt Spock's fear spike higher. In a moment he would reach forward and strike, but if he made the wrong move -

"Thelev screwed this thing up," shouted Sulu; the sound of the Orion's name distracted T'ober. "Override's shot -"

Nyota pushed off from the balls of her feet and sprang at T'ober's legs, bringing her down with a low tackle. She twisted T'ober's wrist to free the phaser, digging the short, rounded edges of her nails press into the other woman's skin. Nyota seized T'ober's skirt, trying to restrict her movements, but T'ober was stronger; she shoved Nyota out of her way and ran for the open door of the ship. Furious, Nyota rashly tried to follow. T'ober stopped long enough to snatch up her shoulder bag and hurl it like a missile. The bag hit Nyota's middle, making her stagger as the contents spilled out.

Frustrated, Nyota snatched up handfuls of loose cosmetics from the dust and hurled them at T'ober. "Take that, my lady," she shouted, aiming tubes and jars at the other woman's head. Ducking, T'ober ran for the ship, grabbing the edge of the open door and pulling herself up and inside.

The ships's propulsion system vibrated and hissed as waves of heat and noise rolled across the airstrip.

"Bad sign, that," Scotty yelled. "Run!"

Spock grabbed Nyota and carried her to safety. Sulu risked a move close to the ship, desperately trying the deactivation code again. Instead of stopping, the ship slowly began a wobbly vertical takeoff. Its door swung fully open as the ship's nose suddenly pointed upward.

Inside the ship, a tube of lipstick that had lodged in the decorative trim of T'ober's long dress worked itself free, rolling beneath her feet. She shrieked as she lost her balance and slid from her standing position at the controls toward the open door, and out into the dust clouds below the ship.

It was heroic of the young Vulcan officers to attempt to break her fall, even if they did not completely succeed. A pained shriek rose from the pile of bodies.

"Move it, y'all!" Dr. McCoy shouted. "That thang's goin' haywire!"

One last time, Sulu tried to shut down both the device and the ship as the Vulcans scrambled to their feet, dragging T'ober with them.

"Damn Thelev, buying bootleg tech," Sulu yelled. He faced the others. "Hit the freakin' deck! The device doesn't freakin' work! Ship's gonna crash!"

Vulcans and humans alike ran, crawled, and stumbled, putting distance between them and the ship.

The ship followed its own wild course, alternately attempting to take off and stop itself from taking flight. Its silvery bulk traveled several meters along the airstrip, responding erratically to scrambled commands. The ship bobbed into the air one last time, spun in a circle, then dropped to the ground like a stone.

No fuel explosion followed; the craft was powered by the dilithium crystals Thelev had conspired with T'ober to steal. However, its metal skin and electrical system had overheated, and it burst into bright flames, illuminating the darkening desert.

Spock pushed Nyota behind him. As the debris fell, he rolled over to face her and clasped her tight against him where they lay in the dirt. His thoughts shifted from relief to guilt to anger, and she felt him struggling again for control. His body felt hotter than it should, even considering his physical exertion. She pressed the bare skin of her hand against the back of his neck, letting him feel her thoughts. I'm safe. Scratched and dirty, but safe with you. Be calm now, we must finish this.

Cautiously, the group emerged from their hiding places. "Is everyone all right?" Jim shouted.

"Prisoner is injured, Osasu Kirk," replied one of the eager young Vulcan officers in imperfect, agitated Standard. "Broken, I think, here - ne-kar (forearm)." he gestured at his forearm.

"Thank you, officer," Kirk replied, and the young Vulcan fleetingly looked proud of himself.

McCoy knelt near T'ober. "Ma'am, I can examine your arm if you'll allow me."

"No. I will wait for a real doctor." T'ober's face was tense with pain and obstinacy.

Spock interrupted, his voice uncommonly harsh. "Doctor McCoy is one of the most experienced xenobiology specialists within the Federation. He is respected by Vulcan doctors for his skill, research and compassion, something you appear to lack. You attacked the Captain of his ship and tried to shoot my adun'a, yet he offers to help you."

A muscle in Spock's jaw twitched as he made a visible effort to calm himself. Worried, Nyota tried to send soothing thoughts across their mental bond.

Spock raged on. "Surak himself would be distressed by your behavior. May I ask precisely what sort of skills you have to offer in a crisis? New Vulcan has a future. I doubt that you will contribute much to it. Isha nash-veh Vuhlkansu. Ri bolau nash-veh (I too am Vulcan. I don't need this)." Spock stalked away.

T'ober was expressionless. Nyota exchanged a glance with McCoy, who shrugged and tried again.

"Ma'am, your injury may be worse than it appears. You don't have to like me, just let me help you."

T'ober turned her head, choosing to suffer in silence. Sighing, McCoy walked away.

The insult wasn't aimed in her direction this time, but it still got under Nyota's skin. "So humans aren't good enough for a titled Vulcan lady to be polite to, but you took an Orion as a lover?"

T'ober gave Nyota a look of disgust. "Do not use that word. Thelev is not my bondmate."

Nyota kept her face expressionless. "Thelev certainly thought he was your mate, in some way. He resisted Federation attempts to get him to reveal your name. You should have seen him."

T'ober looked away. "An Orion is not equal to me."

"Really? Yet he cared enough for you to try to protect you."

"It is not your place to speak of my personal life," T'ober snapped.

Nyota lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. "Your love life quit being personal the day you chose to hook up with a smuggler and steal assets from a planetary system linked to the Federation." She walked away to join McCoy.

"Are you all right, Len?" Nyota asked in a low voice.

Dr. McCoy shrugged. "It ain't anything I ain't seen before. On earth, there are still people who object to my sitting down to eat at the same table with you and Sulu. Same mess, different planet. I've dealt with harder cases than this Vulcan lady, anyway. Drunks, complainers, angry people...bigots fit right in with that bunch of charmers." He tilted his head in Spock's direction. "Speaking of angry, you might could check on your man; he's a bit tense. I'm gonna give T'ober here three minutes to think things over. Once her arm really starts hurtin' she may change her mind."

It took Nyota a moment to find Spock; he was helping the Vulcan officers and Enterprise men to shovel dirt atop some of the overheated metal fragments scattered on the ground. A few desert dwelling-Vulcans seeking scrap metal to resell wandered close. They left silently after being told that the metal scraps could not yet be taken from the crime scene.

Firefighters from a small Vulcan settlement nearby arrived and dealt with the burning ruins of the ship. Nyota rinsed her eyes and face with bottled water offered by a somewhat awestruck Vulcan security officer.

"This day was most eventful, T'sai Uhura," he said. "I usually deal with thefts of camels or solar panels."

Nyota couldn't suppress her smile. "For the sake of peace and diplomacy on New Vulcan, I do hope that camels and panels are all that you must pursue next week. Thank you again for the water."

Suddenly ill at ease, the young man glanced beyond her shoulder, flushed green, nodded at her, and hurried away. Spock's fingers curved over Nyota's shoulder.

"Adun, stop it," she said, turning to face him. "That officer only gave me water; he was perfectly respectful. There is no reason to be jealous. What's wrong with you?"

Mixed embarrassment and agitation clouded his features. "Forgive me, I am...distressed by all that has happened today."

"I understand, I think. Something else is wrong, isn't it? Let's join the others and try to get away from here safely so that we can sort things out."

"I did not properly protect you," Spock said as they walked together.

"You tried. I saw your hands; you were seconds away from putting a nerve pinch on her. She's just lucky that we didn't fight her together."

"Nyota, it is my duty to protect you. I will not allow myself to behave this way again."

"Sweetheart?" She touched his arm. Spock looked at her, questioning.

"Thanks for being so concerned for me...I appreciate it. I know how worried you were. I should let you know... my phaser was set to stun."

...

Capital city of New Vulcan

Sarek's manor house

Sarek was pleased that he had awoken in time to welcome his dust-streaked houseguests and hear them describe their combined effort with Vulcan security forces. Spock's heated irritation had passed, and he felt keenly aware of his surroundings now. He saw the repressed excitement and amusement in his father's eyes as he listened to Jim, Scotty, Sulu, McCoy, and Nyota explain the pursuit and apprehension.

Once Sarek himself had led an exciting life, even been something of a social rebel. Documents and diplomatic meetings brought different adventures into his life now, one that Sarek handled energetically and well. However, he couldn't help but wonder if the older man envisioned himself running and driving and fighting and ducking the blast of flame from an exploding ship. Adrenalin wasn't reserved for young bodies.

"Do you think Thelev set the disrupt device that way on purpose? Was he angry enough at T'ober to try to kill her by crashing that ship?" Sulu mused.

"Maybe. He probably wouldn't admit it," McCoy said. "Those two know as little about love as they do about crime; they ain't good at either one. Compared to their relationship, my divorce looked like a backyard barbeque."

"What puzzles me is this," Scotty said. "She thought an Orion was good enough for her - even if she was using him for hire purchase - but looked down her high and mighty nose at our Spock and our Nyota. Her own fellow wasn't Vulcan. 'Tis illogical, if you'll pardon the expression."

Spock brushed the back of his hand against Nyota's.

"Thelev was not human, Mr. Scott," he replied. "Perhaps that was most important to the suspect."

"I go for a nice pair of legs and good conversation meself," sighed Scotty. "Tae each their own."

"Sir, just how much trouble are we in, if any?" Jim asked Sarek.

"Captain Kirk, you worked alongside Vulcan security while some of the most important incidents took place. All of you have given recorded statements to law enforcement. Without your help, the attack on Gav, who is still hospitalized but stable, would remain unsolved. I might be standing trial myself for his assault. I ask only that you extend your visit by one Standard day in order to make your planned presentation at the Vulcan Parliament before returning to the Enterprise. No one expects you to remain on New Vulcan for the trial of either T'ober or Thelev."

Sarek raised an eyebrow."There will, no doubt, be questions about your collective decision to investigate this situation independent of local law enforcement; however, I understand that some among Vulcan security favor Starfleet and the Federation. It is unlikely that you will encounter criminal charges or even a caution, as your efforts led to the apprehension of two criminals. As I see it, you are now free to move about on New Vulcan without fear of reprisal." He rose. "If you will excuse me, I believe that I have had sufficient vicarious excitement for one evening, and shall retire. Thank you gentlemen, and my ko-fu (daughter), Nyota. I have a most accomplished and unusual daughter-in-law."

Suddenly bashful, Nyota ducked her head. "Thank you, sa-mekh (father) Sarek."

"Please feel free to rest and make yourselves comfortable in this house," Sarek said to crew. "Perhaps a quiet evening will ease the strains of the day."

"Er, I was thinking of taking a good shower and going out, actually," Jim said.

"I had the same idea," admitted Sulu. He nodded at McCoy and Scotty. "Guys?"

"Yep."

"Aye."

Jim looked at Sarek. "Hope it doesn't seem inappropriate, sir, but we worked up a lot of energy today..."

Sarek allowed a half-smile to show on his face. "Understood. I was once a young man myself. I could ask my valet Sietla to accompany you, in case there are any questions about Vulcan social decorum."

Spock felt Nyota's thoughts flutter across their bond as she tried to suppress a laugh, followed by the thought that Sietla might very well find himself spending much of the evening alone.

"Uh, that's so kind of you, Sarek, thank you. Spock, Uhura, do you have plans?'

Spock flushed slightly green. His father looked at him with a facial expression readable as Have you told her yet?

"Nyota and I..." he turned his head and happily took in her shy, affectionate smile. "will remain here."

"Very well. Stay safe, gentlemen. Good night," Sarek said dryly, and left.

"Good plan, you two! Nothing like catching up on all the sleep you've missed." Jim said innocently.

Spock glared at Jim, who flashed his most charming version of the Kirk Smile at Nyota and touched his lips to her knuckles. "I only kissed her hand, Spock. The rest, I leave to you."

The growl that came from Spock was low, but audible; he caught himself and silenced it.

...

Spock and Nyota's guest suite

Sarek's manor house

Nyota soaped, scrubbed and rinsed herself happily. She tried to be careful to use only as much water as she needed, but the calm, steamy atmosphere and the soft blue and green painted walls of the high-ceilinged bathing room transported her far from the fears and anxieties of the past week. She lingered under the solar-heated water in the shower longer than usual.

Spock had retreated elsewhere in the house to bathe. He had been pensive and almost moody much of the evening.

Clad in a thin robe made from a silky, dark rose colored fabric, Nyota found their bedroom empty. Perhaps Spock wanted to be alone and meditate.

She sighed and paced between the balcony and the bedroom, wondering what had happened to her marriage. She stared at gathering storm clouds, feeling the night air grow moist and humid. I must reassure him somehow. He knows that there will be many times when he cannot protect me.

Spock entered the room, a towel knotted at his waist. Traces of water swirled abstract patterns into the damp hair on his chest, arms, and legs. He hadn't combed his hair yet, and it was still wet and unruly.

"You hair looks so cute when it's untidy like that," Nyota said. "It makes me want to play with it."

"I would find it agreeable if you will play with the rest of me as well. " He smiled, and the atmosphere in the room changed; Nyota felt her skin prickle as she gazed into his dark eyes.

"You meditated...?" she asked.

"Completed. I took a brief time to put my thoughts in order, and then took a shower. I chose to complete this thinking time in solitude. I do not desire additional solitude."

"The house is secure?"

Spock took a step closer. "Affirmative. All perimeter entrances are secure. Our own balcony is inaccessible from the street. My sa-mekh (father) sleeps. The crew left for the city center accompanied by Sietla. "

"We're all alone, then?"

His dark eyes gleamed. "Indeed."

Spock leaned down and kissed her deeply, pulling her close to him. He lifted her as her legs wrapped around his waist. She kept kissing him and stroking her fingers though his wet hair. The walls and room seemed to tilt as he moved her legs safely aside and fell back onto the bed.

Lying down in the same bed with her bondmate again - how luxurious it felt, almost miraculous! Nyota submitted to her desire to touch him.

Spock's body had areas of wilderness beneath his immaculately kept uniform and smooth haircut. Nyota loved exploring the powerful landscape of his body. The slightly wiry hair on his chest, arms, and legs parted between her eagerly moving fingers and bent beneath her lips. She moved so that she could stroke his back. Little constellations of moles danced in irregular, illogical patterns from his shoulders to his tailbone. It was good to touch his bare skin again, to feel his warmth and flexing muscles -

"How I've missed this," she groaned. "Touching you. Your heat, your smell, your weight in the bed." She lay beside him and curved her leg over his hip. "I wasn't sure how you were feeling, so I left you alone."

Spock gently nipped her neck with his teeth, then kissed the spot. "I do not wish to be 'left alone' by you, tal-kam. "

"We have a week of leave time left. Can't we make the best of it? Be good to each other again?" She gently pressed her pelvis to his and kissed him, but he clasped one hand around her hip and held it still. Hurt, she blinked at him in confusion.

He looked at her seriously. "Please do not think I reject you, Nyota. I regret not telling you this earlier. The Enterprise was under threat and I was uncertain how you might respond."

She stroked his forehead and hair, feeling him relax. "Sweetheart, what's troubling you?"

"My Pon Farr will begin soon." She gasped softly, and he continued.

"Already I have experienced symptoms. Before we married, I told you of my previous experience with it, and how I meditated to survive. This time, my Pon Farr seems different. My body seems to acknowledge your presence as my bondmate and prepares me for physical contact with you. It is likely that I cannot meditate my way through it this time; I need you."

Nyota's hand stilled. For a moment, it seemed as though the bed beneath them had dropped away; the pit of her stomach dipped in an odd sensation suggestive of airborne turbulence. Fear crept in, was swept away by curiosity, and then replaced by a sense of determination...and passion.

The intensity of her desire made Spock's eyes widen. "Nyota! I thought that you would be frightened."

"I am frightened," she admitted, "but I want to help you - us - to survive this together. Beyond all of that, I want you. It's been too long and if we're going to spend several days having each other, over and over again...why would I complain? I get to spend my next few days of leave time having my way with my husband, whom I adore. Oh, it's such a hardship," she said, rolling her eyes dramatically.

Finally, he smiled, then grew serious again. "Ashayam, you may not fully understand the difficulties we face. My demands upon your body and emotions will be relentless. I may be loud. I may be rough."

He trailed his fingers along her neck, over the curve of her shoulder, down her arm.

"I will not always think or behave logically. Sometimes I may insist upon having intercourse with you repeatedly, several times in a row."

"You know very well that I am loud and rough sometimes. Nobody knows just how much I enjoy sex except you, and I'm happy with that. As for the repeated intercourse, hey, I'll manage. I may just ask to change positions each time. We'll face this challenge together. I knew what I was getting into when we decided to bond."

"I fear that I will injure you," he said sadly.

"So we can be careful, and I'll arrange a way to call for help if necessary. Or I could restrain you until you calm down."

Spock's eyes widened and he inhaled quickly, then tried to control his expression. "Oh, no, you don't. I saw that, mister. You want me to restrain you, don't you?"

Blushing green, Spock bit his full bottom lip, almost shyly. "Yes."

"We haven't done that in a long time," she whispered, pulling lightly on his chest hair.

"Indeed we have not...mistress." His eyes half-closed with pleasure.

Nyota shivered. "Nor have we done the opposite for a while...Commander."

Spock's eyes opened, and he smiled as he squeezed her thigh, hard. "How kind of you to remind me." He sighed. "I know that you want me, but if we begin intercourse now I may not be able to stop myself."

"Oh, Spock, no." Nyota was tired, but she wanted her man.

"Please listen, ashayam. Perhaps it seems immature, but I prefer to have my Ponn Farr away from my father's house. It is essential that I secure a place where we can be alone for at least four days. In my estimation, we should prepare to sequester ourselves within the next twenty-four hours."

...

 

...

Spock's Ponn Farr To-Do List

1. Locate and rent private cave house in safe location with full food & water supplies.

2. Trim fingernails and toenails.

3. Shave and/or trim hair in relevant areas, in accordance with Nyota's preference (leave chest hair and 'treasure trail' untouched).

4. Ask Dr. McCoy for information on effective medical treatments for 'hickeys' (colloq.), bruises, and scratches.

5. Ask Jim for alternative 'folk medicine' methods of concealing or reducing inflammation from 'hickeys' (colloq.), bruises, and scratches.

6. Securely pack edible massage oils and lubricant.

7. Pack specialized First Aid kit.

8. Pack firepot and meditation robe.

9. Hide gift for Nyota in bottom of trunk; present gift to her after my Time has ended.

10. Speak privately with Sarek.

...

Asking his father's advice with anything related to his marriage still made Spock uneasy. Unfortunately, New Vulcan's infrastructure remained incomplete, and Vulcan society still felt somewhat closed off to a half-Vulcan bonded to a human woman. Spock could not find easily find the private place he needed by searching databases of local businesses, nor did he know who to ask for help but Sarek. Secluded caves where a couple might survive Ponn Farr were hardly the sort of thing even the most free-thinking Vulcan would advertise. Cheeks flushed, Spock sat down with Sarek before breakfast, looked him in the eye, and spoke honestly.

Despite Spock's odd behavior - one moment, his voice was so calmly flat that he might have been discussing Parliamentary meeting schedules, the next, he became so agitated that he leapt up to pace around the room - Sarek was pleased to be consulted, and he felt a rush of fatherly affection for his son.

In less than one Standard hour, Sarek made a few quiet inquiries and secured the rental of a private cave house far from the curious ears and eyes of city residents. Working together, father and son established a safety plan for medical help, should it be needed, and scheduled transportation to the site.

"You will travel there separately and allow her to come to you," Sarek said firmly. "Already you cannot easily control your emotions. There is some risk that you may touch your bondmate inappropriately while others are present, or become too physically aggressive before she is ready."

"No, father! I would never shame my wife or hurt her. She is too important to me; you know this."

"Believe me, Ponn Farr is unpredictable. Also, your wife has no prior experience with this; she did not observe you during your previous Time. You must not frighten or distress her."

"We have spoken of it. I am confident that Nyota will endure it as best she can."

Sarek looked vaguely horrified. "Endure? Have you not considered her physical and emotional responses to your actions? Spock, you are too old to need what Amanda would have called 'the sex talk' again."

Spock blushed and turned his gaze to the wall. "I prefer to avoid any such discussion."

"Very well, but I warn you that it is to your advantage to please your wife at all times."

Spock stared at the stone floor as though seeking a hole to hide in, but Sarek continued. "Especially during your Time. Your wife is brave and kind, but she is also a woman possessed of human tenderness. Be wise and equally tender in your treatment of her."

Mercifully, their discussion ended quickly afterward. Spock found Nyota at breakfast and told her of the plan.

...

Leonard McCoy lifted his communicator from the bedside table and groaned when he saw who had left him a message.

"Lord have mercy, why is there no bootleg whisky on this dry planet?"

After a lively night on the town with his crewmates, he was less than delighted to find the message indicator on his communicator flashing red, indicating Spock's wish to meet with him privately at the earliest possible convenience.

The cryptic message made McCoy apprehensive. Although Spock was no hypochondriac - indeed, the Vulcan hated going to Sickbay for even a routine checkup - during the past year he had begun asking the Enterprise's doctor questions about improving and maintaining relationships. Each question was disguised as a scientific inquiry about human psychology, but Leonard quickly grasped the real meaning of his inquiries. One benefit of Vulcan upbringing was that it made Spock an unconvincing liar when it came to personal matters. Spock's desire to protect and provide for Nyota was difficult to conceal; his obvious devotion to his wife warmed what was left of Leonard's busted, worn-out heart.

"You might could ask your Daddy for advice, Spock. Sarek's a wise man, and from what I've heard, he adored Lady Amanda. If it doesn't make you both too sad, you could talk to him," Len said on one occasion.

"Sometimes we take after our parents in ways that we don't expect; not just our looks, but in the ways we behave toward others. Sarek's had enough time and experience to learn how to make a marriage work. Talk to him."

Spock fidgeted, something he rarely did, and agreed to make the effort. Naturally, some things were too embarrassing to discuss with one's own father, so here was Spock, asking his advice again.

"Dag nab it, I ain't that much older than him," McCoy complained as he stumbled into the shower. "I'm not some sagely font of wisdom and experience."

Len had enjoyed his night of carousing and dancing. Sulu, Jim, and Scotty talked him into bar-hopping, getting some dancing in when they visited a dive called Lullaby - but he'd been glad to sink into the large, comfortable bed and sleep while the New Vulcan sunrise was still a few hours away. The others flirted with the locals in a manner suggesting rest was not on their agenda.

No one was at the breakfast table except Spock and Nyota. She made a startled sound and dropped the piece of fruit which she was teasingly feeding to Spock, who quickly let go of her thigh.

Len generously failed to notice where either party's hands had been, and cheerfully returned their awkward greeting.

Spock informed Len that the couple needed to make an unscheduled rural trip, certain details of which he wished to discuss with the doctor privately.

Right. That means sex talk with an uptight Vulcan. What have I done to deserve this? "Of course, Spock, not a problem."

Seeking lighter breakfast conversation, Nyota asked Len about the Enterprise men's night out, and Len recounted those parts of their evening adventure suitable for a lady's ears. Nyota's laughter relaxed Len, though Spock seemed edgy. Eventually she excused herself to pack her bag and send messages, leaving Spock alone with the doctor.

"All right, Spock, what's up with this man-to-man talk you want to have?"

"Dr. McCoy - "

"Len, Spock. I've told you umpteen times you don't always have to use my title. I'm sittin' at your daddy's breakfast table, for cripes' sake."

"Leonard, as an experienced xenobiologist, I know that you are familiar with the characteristics of Vulcan life cycles. I am in the early stages of Ponn Farr."

Leonard coughed, trying not to choke on a mouthful of steamed grains. He gulped down a glass of fruit juice. "Well, butter my biscuit. Uh, yes, as an intern I treated several Vulcan patients for Ponn Farr-related problems. Abrasions, bites, sprains, bruises, inflamed tissues.

"Your most recent physical exam indicated that you're healthy, fit as a fiddle, and you appear to have recovered from the transfusion without any bad effects. You're physically ready, but now I wonder about your mind. How can I help? Are y'all both prepared for this?"

"I am uncertain," Spock confessed. "Nyota considers herself prepared because she is in good health, and she feels determined to help me survive. I will of course treat her carefully and try not to injure her. However, I am concerned about possible negative psychological effects."

"Spock, I'm a doctor, not a sex therapist."

"Understood. However, I would appreciate any suggestions. You have advised many human female patients, some of whom might have experienced...'newlywed syndrome', to repeat a term I once overheard."

"Cystitis. Women can prevent it by keeping hydrated and preventing the transfer of bacteria through careful cleansing. Make sure she drinks lots of liquids and takes plenty of showers, not baths. I'll give you some topical painkillers, antibiotics, and lubricants suitable for most humanoids. I usually bring that stuff along on away missions, especially if Jim's coming - I'm not aiding and abetting his behavior, understand, I'm just being realistic," he sighed.

"I'll be honest with you, Spock, the only one who can solve your other problem is your wife. I know that you'll be riled up and illogical some of the time, but try to remember a few things:

Ask for her full consent, number one.

Ask if she's comfortable or in pain, number two.

Ask if there's anything that you can do for her, number three."

Spock sighed. "Thank you, Leonard. I will try. I dislike the prospect of being in an illogical state of mind."

"Most of us on the Enterprise have our addled moments, and we manage just fine. Relax, Spock. You're a good man and I believe you'll do right by our Uhura."

...

Nyota's Ponn Farr To-Do List

a. Message home, let family know where I am but ask for no calls or messages unless an emergency; include Sarek's private contact information

b. Contact Gaila - advice urgently needed

c. Pack the waist beads that Folosade gave me...or wear them under my clothes for Spock to find and enjoy?

d. Specialized First Aid kit

e. Massage oils, lube, etc.

f. Skin lotion (maybe without cocoa butter, Spock may overreact to it)

g. Lingerie

h. Check finger and toe nails, shave, pluck, trim, etc.

i. T'voria's message said that she has a gift for me; meet up for a quick cup of tea. Give her thank-you gift of textiles from home in appreciation for her friendship and help.

j. Thank-you to Vulcan Security Force officers

k. Thank-you to Sarek's nursing & house staff, especially Sietla

l. Pack scarves - not strong enough to really hold Spock down but maybe we can pretend?

m. Research the Vulcan artisan carpenter Donstelralth - need to visit his shop before leaving New Vulcan

n. Thank-you to hospital staff; also make appointment to donate to blood bank before I leave New Vulcan

o. Take nap (Ha! Can't relax enough)

p. Why am I making this list?

...

Later that morning, a few hours before the Enterprise group left for Parliament to speak in support of the Coridian application for Federation membership, McCoy's communicator buzzed repeatedly.

Jim needed a quick examination of a bite mark ("She didn't break the skin, but could you please look anyway?"). Sulu wanted to soothe sore lower back muscles ("I was, uh, kind of busy last night. Didn't forget to use protection with either person, though."). Scotty quietly requested nothing more than a headache remedy ("Stayed out a bit late dancing and chatting, nothing more. I've met someone aboard the Enterprise. Our connection 'tis fragile, and I dinna wish to break it.")

Leonard fulfilled the requests in the most confidential way possible, sighing in relief when he finished.

Just once, he'd like to have his own morning-after needs to fulfill.

...

In her response to T'voria's message, Nyota only hinted at the reasons why she and Spock would suddenly become unavailable for the next several days. Vulcan women, especially those bonded to Vulcan men, knew how to read between the lines. T'voria responded in turn by discreetly offering her unprofessional, personal advice on dealing with Ponn Farr, if Nyota might happen to find it useful in the near future.

"How did you know?" Nyota asked as soon as they were alone.

T'voria spoke in a low voice, even though the parlor door was shut. "It is obvious. You suddenly decide to accompany your husband on a rural journey although many of your personal and professional interests are linked to urban life. When I saw him recently, Osasu Spock appeared, how do you say, flushed, agitated. I remember well how my own husband looks when - please forgive me if I have embarrassed you. I do not want to be rude. May we speak together openly, as women?"

Partially covering her face with her hands, Nyota managed a nod.

"I assume this is your first experience of Ponn Farr? Do not worry. I was afraid when my husband first had it during our marriage. Some kind older women told me how to prepare myself; I will help you if I may. Have you gathered supplies?"

Nyota described some of the items on her list; T'voria gave her an encouraging look, not quite a smile.

"You are well prepared in a physical sense, then. You appear healthy and strong. The most difficult part of my experience was not physical, it was..." she tapped her forehead, then her side. "Humans might say, the mind and heart."

Nyota suggested, "Perhaps Vulcans would say katra (soul)."

"Ha (yes). My husband's hidden emotions were exposed to me. As I once told you, other Vulcans often shamed me for expressing my own feelings, but it is my opinion that I was better able to survive my husband's Ponn Farr because I know how it feels to release and express emotions. All that we experienced together in Ponn Farr - body and soul - made our bond stronger. Please do not be afraid of your husband's Time. It will be difficult, but ultimately good."

T'voria reached down into the large satchel she had brought with her and pushed a long, flat basket across the table towards Nyota. . "My life as a mother is typically quiet, but not since I met you and the Enterprise crew. I appreciate your friendliness to me, and I hope you will accept this gift."

"Thank you for thinking of me; I've got a gift for you as well. You've been so kind..." Nyota removed the lid and lifted its contents, turning them this way and that in the sunlight streaming through the window.

Puzzling over the strips of heavy fabric, she rubbed her fingertips across the polished metal rings attached to the ends of some straps and the flat, smooth metal reinforcing studs.

Awareness dawned. "Are these restraints?" Nyota gasped.

"Yes, and there is a convertible harness too, suitable for use with suspension or on a bed; I sewed them all myself. Are you angry? I hope that I have not offended you?"

"No...really, no. I was thinking about how to deal with that part of Ponn Farr, and well, there are no sex shops on New Vulcan that I'm aware of...and I couldn't walk into one as a lone woman."

"True, and that is why my business has been so successful."

Blinking, Nyota dropped the straps with a clatter. "Pardon? I thought that you designed dresses."

T'voria smiled. "Yes, that is correct. However, so do many others. Although my husband is securely employed, I decided that I myself could not sufficiently contribute to my household and family with dresses alone. I purchased industrial sewing equipment soon after my arrival on New Vulcan, and refined my personal designs for restraints and harnesses. I sell them to friends and acquaintances, although I hope to soon establish an ordering system. Business is profitable and customers are satisfied. Your gift is our strongest restraint and harness system."

"Some people say it's always the quiet ones who get up to things," Nyota giggled.

T'voria shrugged. "Even we 'nice' ladies enjoy intimate adventures with our mates, do we not?"

"Perhaps the less we say about it, the more we do about it." Nyota winked.

"Indeed." T'voria winked back.

...

Following Sarek's advice, Nyota said goodbye to the Enterprise crew while Spock was in another room. She kept hugs to a minimum anyway, thanked everyone profusely for their bravery and good spirits during the chaos of the past few days, and wished them well until the following week. Smiling and laughing, she managed to avoid saying exactly why she and Spock were taking an unplanned visit to the countryside.

Leonard McCoy knew why. An unlabelled box containing pain numbing medication that had mysteriously appeared outside the door of her guest suite. She'd found a brief, friendly message on her padd requesting that she check in with him periodically to report her physical condition and state of mind.

"That Vulcan better treat you right," he said quietly as the others left the room to say good bye to Spock. "I'm willin' to come back to this dusty planet and smack him a good one if he doesn't."

"Len, that's sweet of you, but I think we'll be fine. Thanks for caring about me. What about you? Maybe you can take it easy aboard ship and reflect upon the commendation the Vulcans gave you for convincing Thelev to confess."

"Maybe someday I'll have a nice, warm, living being to commend me. Or at least join me for dinner."

"Oh, Len, I hope that you will. Someday soon."

...

Spock grew increasingly moody and agitated during the course of the day, unsettling the household staff. Finally Sarek insisted that his testy son leave for the cave house early. Spock was driven there in a caravan of two transport vehicles. Sarek left one vehicle at the cave house, explaining to Spock that he would give Nyota an operations code, preventing Spock from driving in his agitated state.

"You should not attempt to sabotage the vehicle in order to come back and claim your wife ahead of time," Sarek warned. "You will not have long to wait, and Nyota would be ashamed. Wait for her to come to you. Let the entire thing happen between the two of you here, alone."

Spock barely listened. He only wanted his bondmate all to himself for a while, away from the sight and hearing of well-meaning persons who understood nothing about the emotions and desires raging within him. He was silent during the drive into the countryside, growling an apology and a farewell to his father and the staff member who accompanied him. Finally, alone in the house, he struggled to meditate.

...

After sending confidential, encrypted messages to her family and Gaila, Nyota finished packing, accepted the vehicle override code from Sarek without fainting from embarrassment, and spent some time alone, praying. When she was ready she pulled on a simple dress of lightweight fabric suitable for the hot countryside and told her father-in-law that she was ready to leave.

Shame aside, Nyota would have welcomed the presence of one of her female cousins, Gaila, or even her open-minded Auntie 'Chelle (Mama would have probably cried and asked Nyota and Spock to spend the Ponn Farr period at the Uhura household instead, an option too uncomfortable to even imagine).

The only women Nyota could claim any personal relationship with on New Vulcan were T'Pau and T'voria. Nyota asked T'voria.

The Vulcan woman responded positively, bundling her children off to a friend's house for the afternoon and whispering reassurance to Nyota while Sarek's valet, Sietla, loaded Nyota's duffel bag into the transport vehicle. Nyota managed to make eye contact with Sarek, who wished her safe travel and a pleasant stay in a fashion that made it seem as though he expected her to do nothing more than hold hands with his son.

...

The landscape in this part of New Vulcan was beautiful, if one calmed down enough to notice. Farmland planted with rows of fruit, vegetables, and edible plants gave way to splashes of tall, wild grass, trees, and rippling hills and cliffs of exposed sedimentary rock colored with bands of gray, tan, and white stone. Windows, doors, and cave entrances appeared in some of the smaller hills; roads and footpaths wound between hills and houses.

Nyota felt the transport reduce its speed, and her heartbeat quickly sped up. Oh G-d help us both.

"You see how the houses are far apart from each other for the sake of privacy," T'voria explained. "It is quiet here, and you will not be disturbed."

"Small river close here, T'sai Uhura. Agreeable landscape." Sietla said, determined to practice his conversational Standard skills even under these tense circumstances. Nyota wondered if the huge, expressionless man had experienced his own Ponn Farr yet, knowing that she could never ask him. She'd already asked T'voria all the questions she could think of. Any remaining questions could only be answered by Spock.

Sietla tapped a small button on the dashboard, and it chimed. After a moment a second, higher pitched tone chimed in response.

"I tell Spock you are near now," Sietla explained. "He respond, say yes, he wait for you."

Suddenly nervous, Nyota felt her lungs constrict. The interior of the transport spun, and she bent forward and placed her head between her knees.

"Nyota?" gasped T'voria. Sietla pulled over to the side of the road.

"I'm all right! I just -" she caught her breath and calmed down. "Anxious. Gimme a moment, please." She closed her eyes and counted to ten, taking in a full inhalation and exhalation on each count. When she sat up and opened her eyes, the Vulcans stared at her, concerned.

"I am ready now," Nyota assured them.

They blinked.

"I am," she insisted.

A dusty, loose stone road led to a small hill, more of a rock formation nestled into the foot of a much larger hill. The vehicle came to a stop on a semicircular driveway near a low stone wall. The gate stood open. Sietla stopped the vehicle and everyone got out. The air felt clean, dry, and hot. A few of the small birdlike creatures Nyota remembered from earlier in her visit soared overhead, emitting soft chirps.

Beyond the wall, a small courtyard led to the façade of a cave house carved into the hillside; Nyota saw a large reinforced door, several windows in odd shapes, vents, solar panels and chimneys. All but the solar panels were painted to blend in with the bands of color waving through the stone. At any other time she'd have thought it charming.

It was extremely quiet. Other cave houses were visible in the distance, but they might well have been empty. Glancing up at the windows and balcony, Nyota looked for Spock, but if he was watching she couldn't tell where he was. He had partially closed his side of their bond. Heat and erotic yearning simmered beneath his efforts at control.

"You may wish to remove your earrings," whispered T'voria, "as he may greet you...enthusiastically."

"Oh! Of course, right." Nyota removed her green jade hoops and tucked them into her shoulder bag. Sietla placed her duffle bag on the ground next to her feet, bowed, and moved several feet away.

""Sanoi, T'sai Uhura, please understand I cannot carry bag inside house for you. Possible that Spock kill me, his fire make him not understand why I am here."

"Oh, I do understand. I don't want any problems. I often carry my own bags, thank you anyway." The uneasy feeling returned, then faded as she remembered her communicator, personal alarm device, and the restraints in her bag.

"Thank you so much for everything you've done today, Osasu Sietla," she said politely. "I will see you upon our return to Sarek's house. I'm sure that Spock will appreciate your help too, when this is all over."

Bending a social rule, T'voria quickly clasped Nyota's hand. "We must leave quickly. Be well."

Alone, Nyota watched the retreating vehicle disappear behind dust clouds on the road; then she turned back to the gate, focusing her thoughts and wondering when Spock would let her in. Even the communications panel was set into a recessed stone, making it difficult to find at first glance. The design of these cave houses seemed illogical, aiming more for camouflage than discovery. Just as she reached for the panel, the gate slid back; she stepped through. The front door swung open quietly and shut behind her.

"Spock?"

Her voice didn't echo much inside; colorful tapestries on the walls and a thick mat made of braided grasses absorbed much of the sound. Nyota removed her sandals and cleaned her feet with a jar of water and towel by the front door. She ascended a staircase and walked through a few cool, irregularly shaped rooms decorated with carpets, low padded benches, low tables, and oversized pillows. Curtained windows, many shaped like portholes, let plentiful daylight in. Shelves and niches for lanterns were carved into the walls. A kitchen held an abundant supply of food and water. With relief she noted the presence of full, familiar plumbing in the kitchen and bathroom, as well as electrical power in all of the rooms.

"All very nice, but where is my husband?" Nyota wondered aloud.

Most of the rooms were linked to each other, snaking along the stone of the hill. She found a comfortable bedroom, the broad, high bed set in the center of the room and swathed with gauzy curtains; a small set of steps sat next to it. A small sink was set into one corner, and there was a balcony. She set her bag down, ascended the steps, and lay across the bed, looking up at an opening in the top of the cave, now glassed in to create a skylight. One of the planet's birdlike creatures flew past.

"Lovely, but better with Spock." She crawled across the bed, descended the steps, and opened a door in the far wall. She was in an odd room with metal rings and a showerhead into the walls and low ceiling, a floor drain, and a sink in the corner. A wooden platform took up part of one corner; it came to just above her waist and held a pile of large wedge shaped pillows, mats, and towels.

Nyota would pay attention to all of these things later. All she could see at the moment was Spock, who stood in the center of the room, his chest rising and falling as though he had exerted himself. He wore dark trousers and a partially unfastened black shirt.

"Nyota." He hesitated, swaying a bit, and quickly crossed the room, pulling her into a tight embrace. "Mmm. Ashayam."

"Spock. I'm so glad." His skin was hot against her fingers as she cradled his face and kissed him. He returned the kiss, coaxingly, seductively at first, then harder. Then he froze, as though aware of himself, and loosened his grip. "I do not want to hurt you."

"We'll both be careful. You know I'm looking forward to this as much as you are. You may have to warn me sometimes. Do you feel well? You didn't come to the door."

"I experienced a temporary loss of emotional control when you arrived, and I did not wish to challenge the male with you to combat."

"He doesn't want me, Spock. He drove me here, nothing more."

"Intellectually, I comprehend this. Emotionally, I could not."

"Easy, sweetheart. We're alone now. Let's think of something else." She ran her hands over his chest, over his flat belly, and gently cupped the bulge at the front of his trousers. "Let's do something else."

Spock looked down into her eyes. "I have craved your touch and your wildness for too many days." His hands stroked down the curve of her back and hips. She eagerly slid her own hands below his shirt and sought the opening of his trousers, but Spock pulled away. Nyota couldn't help but make a frustrated sound, an inelegant cross between a growl and a whimper that made him smile.

"Not in this room; I prefer to make love to you in a...softer environment first." He lifted her into his arms and carried her back into the bedroom. "I have not been a proper husband during this visit. Roughness may come later on. For now, I offer you the romantic and erotic satisfaction that I earlier denied you."

Spock set her down on the bed and leaned over her, capturing her lips in another deep kiss. Nearly every nerve ending in her body felt as though it were prickling to alert life. He teased, stroked, and caressed her mouth with his own lips and tongue. He pulled away to let he catch her breath, then set her to panting again as his white teeth nipped her neck and his hands smoothed and squeezed her breasts, her belly, her thighs.

"Nyota," he breathed against her neck, "There is something beneath your clothes I wish to see."

"Ahh, I certainly hope so." She smiled. "And I can't wait to see what you've got for me, big man."

"To clarify, you are wearing something around your waist which provokes my curiosity."

"Oh! The waist beads. A surprise for you, adun. It's an old custom, present in many different cultures in the United States of Africa. Mine are a gift from an old school friend, my Yoruba tutor."

Spock leaned on one elbow and cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Not that kind of friend; she never gave me the kind of private tutoring that you did. I was saving the beads for a private evening during our visit here on New Vulcan. You do see that I also wear the pretty bracelet you gave me?" She lifted her wrist, encircled by the curving metal in two colors, then let it rest between her breasts; his gaze followed.

Spock took a deep breath and seized both edges of her neckline. "Adun'a, are you fond of this dress?"

"I'll mend it."

His strong hands ripped the thin fabric open down the front. Tiny buttons and fasteners bounced and clicked across the floor. He stared down at her exposed body, moving unsteady fingers above and between the rows of beads encircling her waist. Spock muttered something that sounded like a variant Vulcan dialect, surprising Nyota; it sounded complimentary, and the lustful expression in his eyes thrilled her.

"Relax, honey; you're shaking. Are we in the beginning or middle of your Time now?"

He rubbed his clean-shaven cheek against her belly. "I begin. The fire has not completely engulfed me yet." He unfastened her bra and pulled the fabric of the torn dress from beneath her, balled both garments up and threw them across the room.

"Really? Your skin's burning hot."

"Much of this is my own reaction to you," Spock admitted. He kissed her again, bit the place between her neck and shoulder, and sucked one breast into his mouth. Nyota's back arched, and she let out a cry of pleasure as her head fell back.

"I have missed this," he said, and moved his mouth to her other sensitive nipple. "Why did we deny each other?"

Nyota wriggled, trying to push down his trousers with her feet.

"Spock, please."

Spock smiled almost arrogantly. "Patience. I want you ready for me so that I will not hurt you."

His strong hands grabbed her hips to hold her still: first, to clasp the edge of her underwear between his teeth and pull it off, next to gently pull back her labia with his thumbs, exposing her clitoris. He gently blew on it, making it stand out more stiffly than it already did, and her thighs quivered. Lowering his mouth, he licked and sipped at the little nub until she felt loose and slippery. Nyota cried out again; Spock grinned and pulled away.

"What do you want from me, th'y'la? Are you bold enough to take it?"

Nyota managed to rise upon quivering knees. Her fingers wouldn't remain steady on the front openings of his black shirt, so she tore the shirt off him.

Spock made a sound of purring approval and shrugged off the remaining pieces of torn cloth.

Something about the flexing and rolling of his shoulder muscles pushed her to the edge. Nyota put her hands flat on his chest and leaned her full weight against him; he could easily have resisted, but he let her take him down. As she pulled open his trousers, he whispered encouragement to her, mixing Vulcan and Standard.

"I give you myself."

He was so hard in her hands, so smooth against her tongue.

"Take me."

His hips bucked in response to the stimulation. She pinched a tuft of his chest hair between her fingers and pulled, making him groan.

"Mercy..."

His voice grew harsher, his breathing loud in the stillness of the room. She pulled away and leaned forward to suck the tip of his ear into her mouth. The point of his ear was hot. She felt hotter. Even the cave's natural coolness had changed.

Spock writhed against the bed as she licked and pressed a trail of soft bites around the edge of his other ear.

"I want you."

Nyota balanced herself over him, resting her hands on his chest. His dark eyes shone and his smile could be described as nothing less than wicked.

"Do it." He clasped one hand over hers, gave it a quick and tender squeeze.

She was already very wet, and he slid up into her smoothly. Moving down slowly, she moaned at the delicious friction.

Spock's hands were everywhere he could reach, exciting her further. He stroked and pulled her nipples to hard points and caressed them with his palms and he closed his hands over them, lightly squeezing. He rubbed her belly, played with the beads around her waist, moved his fingers down to play with her clitoris. Nyota kept moving through it all, gasping and crying out. Each separate thing he did felt good, but having him inside her felt so exceedingly fine that she couldn't concentrate on one thing at a time. Logical thought melted away.

Spock watched her, smiling, his eyelids rising and falling in an expression of pleasure. He moaned each time she clenched her muscles around his shaft. Their bond, muted for so long, opened fully, and he used it to ask how he could angle his hips to increase her pleasure. He shifted his body as she responded, and it was even better than the intensely good feeling she already had.

The mental bond was good, but there was nothing quite like hearing his deep, smooth voice.

"Ride. Harder."

She did, hard enough to make the sturdy, purpose-built bed creak rhythmically. Everything inside her quivered, and Nyota knew she was close.

"I love you," she said. He didn't speak, but she caught her breath as their bond opened completely and she felt him tell her the same.

The wave of feelings - love, trust, fear, hope - from her bondmate peaked in time with her own physical and emotional responses; she heard herself shout something, and swayed forward as her muscles went limp. Spock held her, lowering her to the mattress and carefully turning them both on their sides so that he remained inside her.

Rational thought and normal vision faded for a time. While she lay catching her breath and remembering her own name, Nyota looked up through the skylight. A triangular formation of bird-creatures flew overhead below puffy, graying clouds.

Spock brushed a kiss over her temple.

"Ashayam, are you well?"

She looked at him - flushed green, hot - and managed an affirmative, satisfied purr in response.

His penis twitched inside her; he grew hard again. Of course, she remembered. He won't tire easily now, not until his Time ends. But I'm ready.

It wasn't just sheer will. She really was ready, and she knew that she would be ready even after her sore muscles throbbed and her body craved sleep. Everything in her mind, heart, and soul wanted Spock close to her. He appealed to her even in his altered state.

Nyota unfastened the waist beads so that they wouldn't break and pushed them aside. She motioned to Spock with a press of her hips. Spock understood and tried to make them both comfortable, pushing a pillow beneath her head, then lifting her leg over his hip. Nyota toyed with his ears again, deliberately disordering his hair as he groaned and began to thrust into her.

"Can anyone see us through that skylight?" she asked. As her own lust grew, she was dangerously close to not caring, but at heart Nyota was a private person.

"No, shy one." Spock kissed her. "All skylight and window glass in this house is coated for privacy. We are able to see out but no being can see in." He looked down to where they were joined. "I will not share this view with anyone."

A sensation of indulgent delight rippled through her body again, and she laughed. "I am pleased to be yours alone."

His hips moved faster. Beads of sweat formed all over her body. A muscle in her hip protested their position, and she frowned. Spock paused, rolled her onto her back, and rested his forehead against hers.

"Hurt?"

"No. I'm all right in this position. Don't stop."

"Ah. No." He kissed her, then drew back, his lips parted to pull in air as his hips moved. She opened herself a little wider, felt him stuff another pillow beneath her hips, adjust their positions again - different, but still good. Locking her ankles together, she felt him slide in as deep as she could let him go. Spock moaned things, lovers' talk, between kisses on her damp face and mouth. Every sentence was fragmented and imprecise.

"Th'y'la, when I enter you I fall into a valley of honey -"

"You overwhelm me -"

"I want to ride and be ridden by you at the same time -"

"I cannot have enough of you -"

Finally, he became nonverbal, as Nyota herself had been for some time. Moments after she reached her own peak, he shouted and his thighs shuddered as he followed her.

...

She was growing hungry. She wanted to wash up, unpack her bag. She needed water.

That much, Nyota could manage. A carafe and two glasses waited on a shelf carved into the wall; she filled the carafe at the sink and they both drank. She replaced the glassware on the shelf and turned around to see Spock, nude, pulling back the coverlet on the bed. He lay back, fully erect, his body beautifully displayed against the sheets, and gave her a look both helpless and expectant.

Nyota smiled back. Her lower back ached a little, but already she felt herself opening for him. She couldn't stop wanting Spock.

One more time, out of a thousand times or more.

...

Her nails were trimmed, but she still dug them hard enough into his back to leave green half-moons. As she arched her back, she felt the warm breeze from the open window on her sweat-dampened skin. Both of them were moaning, then screaming loud enough to make a smart neighbor call the police or to summon Security aboard the Enterprise, but here they disturbed no one's peace but the birdlike creatures flying through the undulating valley.

...

It was dark outside when she woke. Spock lay on his back next to her, his chest rising and falling evenly, one hand loosely curled around hers. Light shone from a small lantern mounted in a niche carved into the wall.

Spock felt her awaken. He rolled onto his side and nuzzled her neck. "Mmm." He blinked sleepily at her, then slid a hand down her belly and curled his fingers over her vulva. "Want more."

She ran a hand down his chest. "So soon, tal-kam?"

Something about their mental bond was cloudy, strange. She tried again, but her husband was disoriented, unable to communicate normally.

So here comes the hard part. Nyota suddenly felt alone, but calmed her fears. Spock is still here, he's just different. He promised not to hurt me and I trust him. I have the personal alarm and my communicator. I can use the computer here to call Sarek. If none of those work and I'm not injured, I can walk down the road to one of the other cave houses and ask them to summon help.

His eyes closed, and he slept.

"Our activities are enough to tire even you out, apparently." Carefully, Nyota sat up, gritting her teeth at each twinge of an overworked muscle. Even her feet ached. She'd flexed them while changing positions, pushed against the bed's headboard and footboard to keep herself steady, and her toes had involuntarily curled each time Spock had brought her to orgasm. How many times had it happened? Four, five, six times? Did full-body muscle tremors count? Nyota couldn't answer her own question in her endorphin-addled condition.

Planting both feet in the soft rug by the bed, Nyota limped to the bathroom; her hips and knees were sore too.

Hot water eased some of her discomfort. After bathing she put on her dark pink robe, boiled water for an herbal infusion said to ease aches and fatigue, and sat on one of the padded benches, sipping the hot liquid and gazing out into the dark valley. A few lights shone from distant cave houses but she heard nothing beyond typical wilderness night sounds.

Oddly, she wasn't very tired. She even felt slightly irritated with Spock for sleeping while she sat in the cozy, empty room. She imagined her hands moving over his face and body and felt herself becoming wet again. Perhaps she could tie him to the bed with the versatile convertible harness. He would smile up at her, and she would stroke and arouse him then climb over him and tease him, rising and lowering herself until he pleaded with her -

"Who has Ponn Farr here, him or me?" she wondered aloud. Her libido had revealed itself again, proving to be in good, rude health. Such revelations seemed to happen whenever she had private time with the only man who had ever loved her as fiercely as she loved him. Soundproofing and distance from relatives helped a great deal.

Relaxing, Nyota stretched out along the padded bench. She heard water running in the shower. Maybe Spock would eat a simple meal with her. If he were still coherent, he might tell her how he felt, what was happening to him. She might as well nap while she waited for him.

One big hand grabbed her ankle, startling her awake. Spock leaned over her, water dripping from his body; he hadn't bothered to dry himself off. In his normal state of mind, Spock objected to incomplete processes.

His eyes were wide, dark, and wild.

"Mine," he said.

-----------------------------------

Hot, naked, wet, and aroused Spock, reaching for her?  Usually Nyota welcomed such a delicious opportunity and didn't resist.  If only she hadn't felt tired and slightly more hungry for food than another coupling with her husband. 

The warm fingers encircling Nyota's ankle were still damp from the shower.  The light from the lamp near the bench turned the beads of water on his muscles into shining crystalline drops. Spock moved forward and kissed her, his big hands caressing her body through the silky fabric of her robe.  His hardness pressed into the satiny cloth covering her belly as he bit her neck.  Nyota's  wish for a meal and quiet conversation faded despite her weariness.  The inner fires of Spock's ponn farr were surging, and he would pull her down into the flame with him.

"Mine," he repeated. "Va'ashiv (again)."

Nyota appealed to the rational Spock within this altered version of her bondmate.  "Sweetheart, listen. It's not that I don't want you -- my body's not ready yet. Wait, don't enter me."

Spock froze. "I will not hurt you."  He looked serious for a moment, then smiled slyly. "I will make you ready."   Lifting her easily, he turned her on the bench, pushed a long cushion beneath his knees, and parted the dark pink fabric of her robe, exposing her legs. 

"Ashayam, I thought we'd rest first, eat, and..." she shuddered beneath the first stroke of his tongue against her sensitive folds. 

"Eat later. Taste you now."  Suddenly, Nyota didn't care if she fainted from hunger, as long as Spock's mouth and fingers were the last thing she remembered.

I'm losing my mind, obviously. We did this earlier today but I can't get enough of him.

Their telepathic bond conveyed her thought to him, and he responded with something like a laugh producing a slight vibration that plunged her further into erotic delirium. 

Cool night air lightly teased her skin. "Honey - oh - the window's open -" 

"Mmmmm?"  he growled.

The vibration overtook her senses again.  After she regained her train of thought, Nyota gasped,

"Somebody will hear us -"

Muffled laughter, which gave her another little thrill and made her writhe.

"Hear? Vi (Who)? Only the night creatures and the other bondmates coupling in this valley will know.  Let all hear how much I please you. Let them know my power."  He smiled arrogantly, his lips and chin wet and shining from her, and lowered his head again, licking, coaxing, alternating his fingers and his mouth. 

Her fingers tugged on his hair, sought the curve of his ear and fondled it. Spock responded with a long, deep moan before he intensified his efforts, controlling her again, biting, sucking. Two fingers slid deep inside her and pressed into her sensitive spot, making her hips jerk upward.

Nyota panted on the cushioned bench.  Her sweat-dampened robe was bunched up uncomfortably under her back and thighs, but she didn't want to stop and take it off. 

How did he ever get so good at this?

"Frequent practice, and your loud feedback," he replied in an amused murmur.

Spock climbed onto the bench and turned her so that she lay along its length.  He planted one knee on either side of her thighs and turned his head to the side, wiping his damp mouth against his shoulder.

"Now I know that you are ready for me.  If you want this, I will take you."

In that moment she wanted to give and have everything. "Yes."

Wet noises sounded as he plunged inside her, withdrew, and plunged forward again.  He still felt hotter, harder than usual.  One hand gripped her hip, while the other moved over her skin, teasing her clitoris, sliding upward to tease her nipples, then back down for an affectionate squeeze of her belly. One moment, her eyes closed with pleasure; the next, she fought to keep them open so that she could see his enraptured face and the steady rocking of his hips. He  watched her watching him.

"T'hyla, this pleases you." It wasn't a question.

"Yes!  But I don't know how much more I can take --"

"Shall we see?"  He grasped her thighs and changed his angle, lifting her legs so that her calves rested on his shoulders.  Nyota gasped as he slid in deeper.

"Good?"

Unable to speak, she responded by tightening her inner muscles around him and was gratified to see his eyes roll backward for a few seconds.  In the next second he grinned wickedly at her and began a deep, rhythmic pattern of strokes that set both of them to moaning.

She felt completely feminine, completely carnal and open. 

I never do this.  I never give in to feelings like this, unless we're completely alone.  Or I'm alone and wanting him. So much for being a nice girl. A nice girl who's lost all shame and decorum.

1. The bench creaked with the force of Spock's thrusts. Rough feelings of passionate abandon    flowed from him across the telepathic mating bond.

"You are free to do anything you want with me now," he panted. "As I am with you."

I only want this, and you.

"Take it all," he growled, and his fingers stroked over and around her clitoris again.  Her overly sensitized body reacted explosively. Nyota cried out as pleasure swept over her again, leaving her trembling.

Spock shouted, and she felt him give in to his own pleasure, his muscles tightening before going limp.

They lay beside each other, drawing in lungfuls of the fresh air from the open window.  Spock trailed a finger lightly over her shoulder.

"Nyota." She looked into his eyes; although they were slightly dilated, the expression in them indicated the return of the man she knew. "Are you well?"

"Yes.  This is strange, but I'm not afraid. What about you?"

"Physically I am well, but I am not concerned about myself.  Have I been too rough with you, ashayam?"

"No, I'll survive. I've got a few sore muscles, but it's all well earned."

Spock kissed her shoulder. "Order me to stop immediately if I cause you pain or frighten you."

"Love, will you really be able to stop if I ask?"

"I will try. Each time I join with you, it must be with your consent.  Our telepathic mating bond will be...damaged...fouled if you are unwilling when I take you.  If I truly lose control of myself, do not hesitate to summon help.  During my previous ponn farr I used a drug to help calm myself when meditation failed me.  I will take the drug again if it keeps you safe."

Nyota caressed him reassuringly. "Take me instead of the drug.  I have a personal alarm that I can use, although I'd rather tie you down."  He gave her a curious look.  "I brought along some Vulcan-approved, locally made, strong restraints. Strong enough even for a big, healthy, sexually aroused Vulcan like you."

The sudden quickening of his breathing was subtle, but she felt it.

"When you spoke of restraining me before, I believed that you referred to intimate play," Spock said.  "I expected that we would amuse ourselves after my Time had ended.  If you bind me now...it may become more than a game, I warn you."

"I'll take that chance," she said with bravado she didn't really feel.  "You've been behaving normally for some time now. How long will this last? Do you remember much of how you felt last time?"

"Lonely...afraid.  There is no comparison to my  experience of it with you."  He sat up. "I know that you are hungry.  We should eat now." 

"Ooh. I'm more tired and hungry than I realized." The room tilted and she closed her eyes.  Concerned, Spock knelt before her.

"Lie down, ashayam.  I will bring food and water to you.  You will not come to any harm if I can prevent it."  He kissed her forehead and went into the bathroom.  Nyota heard him washing up before he returned bearing one small towel dampened with cold water, another with warm water.  Spock gently cleansed her with the warm towel, then placed the cold towel on her forehead before pulling on his meditation robe and going into the kitchen.

Unwilling to give in easily to temporary weakness, Nyota sat up. She was determined to tough this situation out, even if she eventually fainted from the physical demands of her bondmate's ponn farr.  Her awareness of him went beyond the telepathic mating bond they now shared.  Something new in her soul burned for Spock, for their union.  Muscle soreness, bite marks, and light bruises didn't stifle her desire for him. Here was something different from her usual desire for Spock as her partner, some strange new aspect of love and attachment.  She couldn't explain it to herself or say exactly when it had begun. 

Spock returned with water and two ready meals, high-protein dishes with vitamin packs on the side - one marked for Vulcans, the other for humans, each bearing a telltale Starfleet logo on the back.  Apparently Sarek had had a private chat with Dr. McCoy.  Bless these considerate men in my life, they move fast and think of everything.  She'd thank them profusely once this was over.

Nyota was so famished that she ate not only her own meal, but half of Spock's.  He said that he wasn't hungry. 

"Not for food," he murmured, crossing his arms as though to contain himself.

"You wear your robe.  Will you meditate now, tal-kam?"

"Yes, in order to allow you to rest." He frowned and clasped her hand.  "Do you consider my behavior barbaric or irrational?"

"No, sweetheart." She squeezed his hand. "You've been careful with me."

"And when I am not so careful?" He looked tense.  "I fear that I will do something which disgusts you, or makes you want to leave me."

"Honey, I'm not leaving you!  Please relax.  We'll survive this together."

Spock closed his eyes, then stood up abruptly.  "I will attempt to meditate now."

Nyota spoke soothingly. "Go do what you need to do, Spock." She rose and faced him. "May I touch you? Kiss you?"

A hint of sorrow showed in his face. "A small kiss; otherwise, you may need to untangle yourself from me."

"Oh, sweetheart."  Sometimes, her mother and Auntie ‘Chelle had warned her, men could be a bit fragile. She gently touched his cheekbone, leaned forward, and brushed his lips with hers. "Hold on to that for a little while.  Be at peace."

"Dungi tu sahrafel? (do you trust me?)"

"How can I not?"

Spock gave her one more burning look before he turned away and strode into the room where he had set up his firepot. 

Moody Spock for a few days, in between bouts of ponn farr.  I‘ll be patient.

With a sigh, Nyota cleared away the remains of their meal, cleaned her teeth and showered.  She put a fresh sheet on the enormous bed and collapsed into it, asleep almost before she could cover her bare shoulders.

...

During the first several minutes of his meditation, Spock felt as though the flame burned inside his body instead of the firepot.  He managed to control himself and focus his mind. 

Seven years earlier, without a bondmate or any physical outlet but himself, he had meditated until his body protested. Strenuous suus mahna routines, repeatedly performed under a blazing desert sun, barely controlled his raging emotions and desire to mate. 

During that lonely ponn farr, frightening images disturbed his meditation. The feelings of rejection, self-doubt, and loneliness he'd experienced on Vulcan, Earth, and elsewhere were gathered into a heavy, oppressive mass, bringing forth a dangerous emotion: despair. 

No one would ever love or befriend him on Vulcan; someone on Earth might seek out ways to harm or destroy him.  He would be alone forever. He would die alone in the desert, mourned only by his mother and father.  Perhaps his death would not be such a terrible thing.  He was tired of the loneliness, the Vulcans who refused to take him seriously.

What do you call Spock after he has received the highest academic award provided by the Vulcan Association of Physical Scientists?

A half-human freak of nature. What else?

The true power of his mind and some innate will to live had somehow broken through his despair.  The hurtful memories meant less and less as the hours passed.  He calculated the likelihood of a positive, or at least tolerable, future for himself. 

Post-Surakian Vulcans did not share human attitudes toward divination, and were dismissive of the human party games used to predict one's future lover, job prospects, or personal happiness. Spock couldn't have imagined Nyota and her acceptance, interest, and delight in him.  If he'd been able to foresee her presence in his life seven years ago, he might have danced for joy on the desert sands. 

...

Exhausted, Nyota finally began to lock Spock out of the bedroom for periods of time so that she could sleep, and he could struggle to meditate.  They both ate little but drank what seemed like gallons of water.  Even Spock's physical energy seemed to flag a few times, but the sight of Nyota wearing her waist beads or lingerie revived him.  When her mind desired him but her body couldn't keep up she reached for the lubricant.  Their mental bond remained off-kilter, made strange by the intensity of emotions Spock usually expressed in calmer ways.

Spock had periods of lucidity. He talked and ate with her, kissed and massaged her, poured water for her, cared for her.

Nyota sent brief, modestly worded messages to Sarek, her mother, and McCoy. We are both well and being careful. I will let you know when our return seems imminent. 

Each time Nyota reached into her traveling bag, remembered the restraints.  Spock was roughly enthusiastic sometimes, but he maintained some control.  There was no need to tie him down yet.

"What is it about you...about us?" Nyota sighed during the predawn hours of one indistinct morning. "This ponn farr will drive me crazy.  It's like I'm always in the mood.  Do you know that every time you come to me, my body responds?"

Spock turned his head on the pillow to raise an eyebrow at her. "Of course, because I am so very good at this." 

He ducked, smirking, as she thumped him with a pillow. "In reality, ashalik (darling) Nyota, the telepathic mating bond influences you.  Its effect on humans has never been studied, but it is possible that you respond the same way a Vulcan or other humanoid would. You are more aware of my heightened desires and emotions. Your own desires are reflected through the bond, and I perceive them more intensely."

"So the more you want me, the more I want you.  It's a wonder that we don't just combust."

"It excites me to see you openly express your desire and pleasure, Nyota, with or without the influence of my Time.  Nor do I have any complaints about the strength of your libido under normal conditions."  He leaned down for a kiss.

"Mmm.  Likewise; I'm happy with your desire for me.  I do feel the difference, though...now all you want is sex and a little sleep and it's all that I want, too."

"Sex alone is insufficient," he said gravely. "I could have found someone to lay with during my previous ponn farr, but it would have been insufficient. Meditation and the drug would still have been necessary.  Sex with a bondmate improves the likelihood of surviving ponn farr."

"You're not...safe yet?"

"I sense that the end of my Time is near; however, I am not completely finished."

"Three days have passed."

"Four days and eight hours, if I may offer an alternative chronological accounting."

"How will I know if something's wrong...if the ponn farr lasts too long?"

"My behavior will make that clear.  Do not hesitate to protect yourself, even if you must injure me."

"Sweetheart, don't talk that way.  Here...will you rub this cream on for me? It's for treating bruises."

He smoothed the cream in, his breathing changing each time he encountered a new bruise.

"I appear to have bitten or sucked you eighteen times with sufficient force to leave a mark."

"Marks fade.  My trust in you won't.  Anyway, you never broke the skin.  Relax, angel.  Trust me, I'll tell you if you hurt me.  Severe pain doesn't turn me on." She sat up, rolling her shoulders and stretching.  "Now you lie back, I want to count yourbruises...twenty-five...ooh, I bit you there?"

"It was a fascinating sensation. I am not averse to being bitten there again."

"Uh, maybe if I feel really ferocious some night." Her fingertips tapped his skin again, twice.  "Twenty-seven.  Goodness, I had no idea I'd been this wicked."

"I am at your mercy, adun'a.  Perhaps I ought to hide the restraints you brought here.  One can hardly imagine the outrageous liberties you will take with my body if I allow you to use them on me."

She giggled at the hopeful mischief in his expression. "Adun, you're trying to seduce me into putting those restraints on you."

"Perhaps. Circumstances will determine whether or not you make me your captive."  He pulled her close to him, cuddling into a spooning position. "I can feel your desire to sleep now.  Perhaps it is best that we both do so, while we are able?"

...

Spock secluded himself to meditate later that morning in an effort to calm his renewed agitation.  After a shower and food, Nyota set her padd to play music - recorded ka'thyra and kora songs, stringed instruments whose tones alternately settled and stimulated her mind.  She chose a sunlit area of the window seat and threaded a needle, ready to mend the placket of the dress Spock had torn from her body when she arrived.  Patiently, she reattached the small buttons.

Occasionally Nyota looked up and admired the view or the bands of pale color in the stone walls.  For the last couple of days she hadn't paid much attention to anything but Spock and the responses he drew from her body, and Nyota felt a sense of discovery as she finally took time to examine her surroundings.

Sometimes a person needed a quiet place of escape.  Perhaps Sarek or T'voria could tell her if these cave houses were available for use as anything other than ponn farr hideouts.  During their normal intimate life, both she and Spock were what Gaila referred to as ‘screamers'.  Sometimes when she attempted to stifle her cries of ecstasy, Nyota bit permanent wedges into the foam of Starfleet-issued pillows. Spock had more faith in the Enterprise soundproofing, and held nothing back.  In this valley, there were few ears to hear, and even if they did hear, a few shouts from  bondmates might be considered normal.

A soft rustle in the meditation room, and along the telepathic mating bond, informed her that Spock approached.  Vulcan meditation robes were not intended to make a man's body visually appealing, but the cut and flow of the cloth affected her anyway.  A feeling of heat spiked in him as he responded to her awareness of him, and he almost swaggered toward her.

Interesting. How will he behave this time?

 "You are well, adun?  Come sit with me."

"Ha (yes). I am well."  He sat facing her on the window seat, his body posture unusually open and seductive. "This sunlight gilds your skin in a most admirable fashion."

"Why, thank you, Mr. Spock." Nyota fluttered her eyelashes at him theatrically. "How flattering.  I assure you, I didn't choose this seat so that I could fish for compliments more easily.  I was attracted to the warmth and light."

"Is there any harm in fishing?  I find your lure irresistible.  Your net may hold a bigger catch than you expected." The front of his robe opened as he shrugged, revealing an expanse of dark chest hair. 

Nyota's hand paused mid-stitch. 

Why can't I control myself around him? Only a few hours ago his chest hair was pressed against my bare skin. Now I want him again.

"Sanoi ( please), do not control yourself.  Your eagerness benefits both of us." He half-smiled flirtatiously and rubbed his fingers over his exposed chest.

I know where this is going. 

Nyota sipped water and popped an energy gel, the sort designed for marathon runners, into her mouth.

"I want one," Spock said with mock petulance, leaning forward expectantly.

"Certainly not, you rascal.  You've got more than enough energy for the both of us.  I need to fortify myself so that I can keep up with you.  If you eat an energy gel, I'll probably faint from overexertion."

"If you faint I will care for you.  I am a responsible lover." Warm fingers moved beneath her hem, bared her calf.

"Indeed, you are very thorough.  You leave no detail untouched."  She winked at him.

"You are safe with me. Unless, of course, you prefer me to behave dangerously. I am willing to do so."  More sunlight fell across Nyota's leg as he pushed her hem up to her thigh.  "Mirable visu (wonderful to behold)" he whispered, and bent down to plant little kisses along the length of her shin.

Nyota set her sewing aside.  Light glinted on her bondmate's dark hair as he caressed and kissed her skin. She gasped when he lifted her leg and turned his head to lick a tender spot on the back of her knee.

"We're right in the window for all to see," she said a bit breathlessly.

"I will pull the windows in closer.  The coatings prevent anyone from seeing inside."

Long minutes later, they lay entwined in a pool of brightness from the window.

"Greedy man," she said, and licked the tip of his ear so that he shivered.

"Yes," he said in a husky whisper, "and I know you like me this way."

The sparkling notes of the music changed as the ka'thyra and kora played a duet.

...

Pain suddenly moved through Nyota's hips, and she bit back a cry as her fingers clutched a handful of bedsheets.  Attuned to her responses, Spock quickly recognized the difference between a cry of pain and a cry of pleasure.  Quickly, he pulled out of her.

"Olau tu has-bosh ha (Are you ill)?  Nyota, have I hurt you?" He briefly touched her temple, then reached down to massage the area where her hips and thighs met.  "Tal-kam, I am sorry."

"Oh, Spock, it isn't you."  She tried to ease the pain by stretching her legs out straight, but the deep soreness persisted.  "The last time I had this problem, I was running on the track team at school.  It feels like it might be my IB band."

Spock continued to gently rub her hips, squinting as he tried to focus his thoughts.  "Perhaps our activities strained your iliotibial band.  We have used the only same eight positions during the previous thirty-six hours."  He climbed down from the bed.  "Would you like cold packs for your hips?"

"Not yet, love, but thank you.  The pain's going away.  What position could we possibly try that won't hurt?"  She watched him pacing the room.  He picked up the restraints from where she'd left them atop her traveling bag and examined them thoughtfully. "Nice idea, but I think that if I'm on top with you harnessed to the bed, it may still hurt my hips. They're going to be a little sore for a while."

"I had a different idea, although I do enjoy being strapped to the bed.  If my understanding of the design of this harness and its additional straps is correct, it converts to a swing."

Spock looked up. Nyota ‘s eyes followed, and she noticed the heavy metal rings driven into the ceiling in a part of the room clear of all furnishings except a thick rug and some large cushions.

"Oh."  Her gaze moved down and met Spock's: he stood nude before her, hair rumpled, his face and chest and thighs still slightly flushed.

"Shall we?" 

The adjustable swing and its thigh straps made it possible to angle one's body so that little weight pressed down on one's hip joints.  Nyota was tilted slightly backward, but not so far that blood rushed to her head, nor so far that she couldn't watch Spock's face and body.  He could see her just as easily.  It was a pleasant sensation of near-weightlessness, with steady pulses of force coming from Spock's pelvis as he thrust into her, murmuring lustful phrases in Vulcan. She answered in Standard or any tongue that came to mind.

...

The adventure in the swing was pleasurable, but Nyota's hips still ached afterward.  Even a hot shower with Spock did little to ease the pain.

She washed her front, gritting her teeth as she faced away from him. Spock's big hands slowed as he rubbed soap over her back, buttocks and hips. 

"Tal-kam, why do you so seldom complain of your physical discomfort?  Please do not deny it; I sense it through the mating bond."  He turned her to face him, his hands continuing to move efficiently but tenderly. "You continue to experience pain in your hips that detracts from your enjoyment of an activity you usually enjoy."

Nyota sighed, spearing her sudsy fingers through Spock's chest hair. He was so appealing when he was soaking wet and being affectionate.  If only she didn't ache.  Instead of placing her palms against the stone wall, wiggling her hips, and giving him a sultry look over her shoulder, she just wanted to lie down.

"It does hurt, but complaining won't help. Uhura women are pretty stoic; we don't make noise about kitchen accidents or cramps.  Starfleet likes its women tough, right?  I'm not used to talking about pain."  She changed the direction of the spray, rinsing their bodies. " Anyway, honey, we aren't through with your ponn farr yet."

Spock bit his lip and raised both eyebrows. "To be quite precise..."

Nyota looked at him curiously. "It's over?"

"Not yet, but it fades.  My understanding of its progress goes beyond calculations to...a feeling."

"Not that I doubt you, sweetheart, but are you quite sure? The swing - you were so passionate."

Spock shut off the water and rested his fingertips against her temple.  "Sanoi, ashayam...if you will permit me to show you?"

Nyota smiled and closed her eyes. Spock's heart seemed to swell illogically as he sensed her trust in him.  He kissed her softly, rested his forehead against hers, and opened the mating bond wide.

Nyota gasped as Spock's emotions rushed forth.  After a few minutes he eased the meld, moving his fingers away. 

Nyota looked up at him. "You're right.  The ponn farr fires are fading, I could...kind of see the change.  The passion is just...you."

"I enjoy unrestrained and passionate sexual activity with you, as you already know.  Our recent work schedule aboard theEnterprise, and the criminal activities taking place during our visit to New Vulcan made intimacy with you difficult.  Here we are able to cast aside the restraint of several weeks.  In addition," he said wryly,  "it is unlikely that we could enjoy sexual abandon beneath the roof of my father's house."

"Soundproofing wasn't enough?" she giggled.

"It would have been inadequate for the responses I hoped to draw from you."

Nyota smiled and opened the shower door. "You needed psychological distance."

"Sometimes that is neccessary."  He pulled the towel from her hands before she could dry him off and rubbed it over her body. 

"I like this cave house," she said as he moved the towel across the small of her back.  His fingertips felt hot through the cloth. "We've been comfortable with each other here.  Maybe we could rent it again for a few days during our next visit."

"Your suggestion is agreeable," Spock said.  One drop of water glittered on her collarbone.  Instead of wiping it with the towel, he bent down and licked it, enjoying the taste of her skin.

Nyota's hips still ached, but her thoughts took a carnal direction again.

Enough already! My hips will never get better as long as I keep wanting him between them.

Spock took note of her thoughts, smiled, and swept her up into both arms. He carried her through the arched doorway leading back to the bedchamber.

"Why, Mr. Spock, are you taking me back to bed?" She fluttered her eyelashes at him.

"Affirmative, Lieutenant. You need rest. "

"Aren't you going to dry off first?"

"You like me wet, Lieutenant."

"And when we reach the bed, what next, Commander?"

"Cold packs." He set her down carefully, smoothed the sheets in a touchingly domestic gesture, and moved her into a reclining position. "Treatment of muscle strains sometimes involves elevation of the injured area.  I could put a pillow beneath your hips...but I will let you sleep instead."

Not yet.  A feeling of languid sensuality flowed through her, and she stretched her arms above her head.  "I may be lying down, but I'm not sleeping. Not yet."

Spock's eyes followed her breasts as they moved. "I will...go seek medical information...about muscle strains," he said distractedly.

"You could help me relax. Unless you feel tired, of course."

"Are you certain that penetration will not be painful for you, ashayam?"

"I had something else in mind, Spock."  She leaned on one elbow and patted the bed. "Lie down beside me.  Other way, upside down. Toe to head."

An anticipatory smile spread over his face.  He helped arrange the pillows so that she could rest on her side, then stretched out and rubbed his cheek against her thigh, gently scratching her with a light growth of stubble.

His eyes shone with a playfulness that she always loved to see. "You continue to enjoy my efforts to pleasure you this way?"

"Some people say that men never get tired of it.  They should know that women never get tired of it, either." She caressed his thigh. "As long as we've been together, my toes still curl even when I just think about your mouth on me."

"I have similar responses to my thoughts of you. We should endeavor to give each other a wealth of memories to draw upon," he said, and each of them turned their heads to the side.

...

Her muscles warm and orgasm-loosened, Nyota dozed.  Spock quietly washed up, pulled on a loose shirt and trousers, and went into the large parlor of the cave house.  He secured a private data connection with his padd and sat down at a low table. 

Information about the cave house appeared quickly on the first level of the connection; Spock chose a more secure option and inquired about the availability of  similar cave houses in a region that was open to Vulcans who were not experiencingponn farr.  Several cave houses were available for private ownership. 

Spock gazed out the window, considering Nyota's comment in the shower, and the way her enjoyment of their private time together went far beyond wifely duty.  Any danger might befall them within the next seven years, and he wanted to take actions beneficial to their relationship.  Spock reviewed holos of the available cave houses and selected one which seemed particularly secure, aesthetically pleasing, and well adapted for humanoid occupation. Its interior walls were carved from the same subtle striped stone as those in the house they now occupied.  There was even a small private garden with heat-resistant plants. It was highly probable that both of them would find the cave house agreeable. 

Spock entered certain relevant information, sent it to the seller, and moved on to his next task.

Doctor Leonard McCoy looked surprised. "Mr. Spock!  Are you all right? Where's Uhura?"

"Greetings, Leonard. I am well, and hope you are the same.  My bondmate sleeps. Is this a convenient time?"  McCoy's office and the dimly lit sickbay beyond, were quiet, his desk piled high with a stack of padds.

"Of course.  Have things, uh, finished?" The Doctor noticed a hickey the size of a ripe green gage plum on Spock's neck. There was no polite way of mentioning it, so McCoy didn't.  Baffled, he observed Spock's relaxed body posture and the slightly dazed expression on the usually impassive face of his First Officer.  Land sakes.  Ponn farr must make one heck of an endorphin cocktail.

"I estimate that it may end within the next thirty-six Standard hours.  Are you free to discuss a private matter?" 

McCoy gave directions to the computer to soundproof and secure the office door, then nodded at the screen. "Go ahead, Spock."

"Nyota is experiencing pain."

Leonard frowned. "Now listen here, Spock, you promised not to hurt her.  Are you getting her full consent each time you approach her? ‘Cause I'll hightail it right back to New Vulcan and whup yer ass in the town square if you ain't treatin' her right. "

Spock  frowned. "Out of honor and respect for my wife and all women, I would never harm her, Leonard.  Surely you are aware of this."

"Sorry.  I just feel protective of my crew, you understand."

"Indeed?" Spock growled.  "Do you feel equally protective of crew members who are not my bondmate?"

"Whoa, back off, Spock.  I'm not after your wife.  I don't pick peaches from another man's tree."

"Forgive me, Leonard.  I am not quite myself - I do not know why I misinterpreted -"

"Forget it, Spock, it's okay.  Ponn farr makes male Vulcans possessive, as I recall. Tell me how I can help Uhura."

"Understood.  Nyota has muscular pain and discomfort in her...hips," Spock mumbled, blushing green as he provided details about her symptoms.  McCoy listened, nodded, and launched into a recitation of advice.

"I'd need to examine her to be sure, but it may be muscle strain. Y'all have First Aid kits with painkillers and cold packs there, right?"

"Yes, we are already using these items."

"Usually I recommend following the ‘RICE' acronym. Rest.  Ice. Compression. Elevate.  So rest the strained muscles - you'll need to avoid repeating the specific activities or positions that led to the strain."  The disappointment on Spock's face was so obvious that McCoy nearly smiled. "No other painful activities or positions. Put cold packs on her hips, not directly touching her skin, every twenty minutes while she's awake.  Compression bandages probably won't fit easily around the affected areas, so skip that one. Last, elevate the area to reduce swelling...that usually applies to legs and arms.  In this case lying down flat should do it." 

"Thank you very much, Doctor."

"Look in the kitchen for anti-inflammatory meds.  I worked out things with Sarek, had ‘em sent in along with the vitamins.  Nyota should have some other meds in her bag. If her pain increases I can provide therapeutic ultrasound treatment here aboard the Enterprise."  The professional tone in McCoy's voice lessened.  "Please contact me again soon and let me know how she is. If she's really bad off, we'll beam her up. I really do want to see you two come out of this safely.  Tell me, are youall right, Spock?"

"Yes.  This time, my experience of ponn farr, while difficult, is not as distressing as seven years ago. Nyota is unwavering in her support of and care for me.  I am - Vulcans do not typically use the word fortunate, because it is illogical, but - perhaps you understand."

"I getcha, Spock.  You're a lucky man.  Judging by that faraway look on your face and the unruly state of your hair, this particular ponn farr ain't such a hardship."

Spock heard Nyota moving in the other room, and unconsciously half-turned his body towards her.  "My wife awakens.  Please excuse me, Leonard.  Thank you very much for your advice, and for speaking with me."

"You're welcome.  Be careful and make sure one of y'all contacts me soon."

McCoy shook his head in amazement.  Goodness only knew how Nyota would look when she checked in.  He quickly searched his computer for his "Shore leave/honeymoon cures" file and tagged it for rapid retrieval. 

...

Nyota found time to send another message.

All is well.  Expect to return to city soon, then Enterprise.

Privacy was essential, but she wished that she had some way of unburdening her thoughts and feelings beyond keeping a journal.  Spock would have listened if he were truly himself, but at moments when the fires overtook him he seemed like a different person.  That person was interested in one thing, and it wasn't talking.

If only she could speak with a woman about how odd it felt to cast ladylike behavior to the winds and admit that she enjoyed much of her husband's ponn farr.  She didn't know T'voria well enough.  Even her open-minded Auntie ‘Chelle might be shocked and tell Nyota's parents to come and take her back home for a psychological evaluation.  Maybe Gaila could be sworn to secrecy - but would she really understand, considering her scorn for certain human rules about gender roles?  Nyota's fingers hovered above the input of her padd, ready to tap in the command to active her friend's contact information. 

Deep in thought, Nyota didn't hear her bondmate approach.  She jumped a little in surprise as Spock's warm fingers caressed her shoulder. 

"Va'ashiv (again), adun'a?"

...

Nyota awoke hours later, blinking into the dark.  Spock had shut the bedroom door, and a glance up through the skylight revealed a greyish sky of indeterminate hour.  Two cold packs rested on the bedside table, beside an anti-inflammatory med packet; Spock had checked in on her while she slept.  Already her hips hurt less.  She turned on the bedside lamp, washed and drank water along with the meds, and looked through her bag for something to wear.

Among her lingerie Nyota found one of her more alluring pieces, a black and silver slipdress with transparent panels. She pulled it on and added a pair of low-heeled boots. 

Nyota suspected that many Starfleet members had at least a mild erotic interest in boot-wearing sexual partners.  After spending his youth around women in long Vulcan dresses, Spock developed a fond interest in legs.  Nyota enjoyed learning how boots focused that interest.  Her bondmate might enjoy seeing her in this outfit as a sort of reward for letting her sleep. There was no point in donning proper clothing, as they were probably going to remove it at some point during the day, night, or whatever this time was. 

She flipped open her communicator.  The screen was blank. She set it into its recharger, but nothing changed. Broken?  Prickling sensations crept down her neck and spine, but she tried to dismiss her sense of unease. Surely Spock had brought his own communicator with him; she'd ask later.

It would have been easy to check the chronometer in the kitchen, but Nyota didn't bother.  Some odd tension in the air told her that the real time would make little difference. 

The cave was profoundly quiet except for the soft strike of her feet on the cool stone floor.  The open door to the meditation room revealed only darkness, as did the bathroom and kitchen.  Nyota remembered the last room where Spock had awaited her on the day she arrived.  It was a strange room, large and sparsely furnished - a waist-high platform, exposed ceiling beams, big wedge shaped pillows -

Oh.  Nyota hesitated before the closed door.  I get it.  Whoever designed this house thoughtfully included a room equipped for intimate activities too acrobatic to be confined to a bedroom. 

Nyota opened the door and peeked inside.  Spock, shirtless and wearing a pair of black shorts, stopped arranging the wedge-shaped pillows atop the platform and looked at her.  Spiky tufts of hair stood out on his head as though he'd run his hands through it in agitation.  Spock's gaze lingered on the low neckline and side slit of the slipdress, then moved down her legs.

"Kluflar (boots)," he said. "It is clever of thee to indulge my appetite."

Something wasn't right. He was Spock, but it wasn't him, not as she knew him.  Nyota rushed back to the bedroom and snatched up the restraints from the shelf.

Now what do I do? Go back and face him? Lock myself in the bedroom?

Better to face him, or this version of him.  Nyota held the restraints inconspicuously at her side and strode back towards the room of questionable purpose. 

Spock's chest was like a warm stone wall; her determined momentum led her to crash into him in the open doorway.

"Brave enough to return, I see. How gratifying.  I did not take thee for a coward, woman," the man awaiting her said in a rough, vernacular form of High Vulcan. "Fetch the lubricant I brought."

It was pointless to argue, but her temper flared. "Did I just hear you order me to bring you some lube?  Fetch it yourself.  Anyway, no lube is going to be used here unless you ask me first. Let go of me." 

He grinned, surprised, and she twisted out of his grasp, the restraints swinging from her hand.

"Restraints?  How efficient.  Give me.  I will bind thee." He grabbed one of the straps and  looped it around her wrist, but she stepped back, pulling free.

"Rai (No)."

"Po (why)?"

"We haven't even...no foreplay, or anything,"  she said in frustrated Standard. "Neither one of us can possibly be ready to...I don't want to be bound, not like this."

"Yet thee brought these straps to me." He moved towards her. 

"I brought them only because I thought I might have to bind you.  Adun, you do not behave like yourself."  Nyota realized he was backing her into a corner, and scuttled back into open space, looking around for something she could tie him to. Of course, he was so strong that her plan would likely fail.

Who are you?  she almost asked.  The mating bond was active, if twisted, and he sensed her apprehension.

"I am thy bondmate.  Why dost thou say me nay?"

"Give me your arm," she insisted. "Don't make me bind you." She tilted her head toward the wall. "There are metal rings set into the stone, and I'll attach you to one of them until you calm down."

Spock smirked. "Nam-tor nanlar riozhikaik heh vlitaya tsuri kodonuhk (Threats are illogical and payment is usually expensive)."

"Oh! I didn't threaten you.  I just don't know what to do with you."

"So in thy indecision thou thinks it best to bind me?" he scoffed.  "No, thou wilt extend thy arm." His voice changed, took on a coaxing, seductive tone. "I promise thee delight."

"Let's be logical about this, please.  I want you in these restraints because -"

"Confessing thy true tastes, my lady? Thou wants me in restraints. So having a man at your mercy heats thy blood?"

 It did, but she wouldn't say it.  "Why do you not listen to our bond? I want you in restraints because I can't keep up with you, and you're stronger. "

"Of course, thou art correct." He flashed a placating, contrite smile and held out his hands in front of himself.  "Thou may bind me."

Cautiously, Nyota drew near. "This had better not be a trick, Spock."

Both eyebrows lifted. "Trick?  Vulcans do not play tricks."

Nyota glanced down for only a second as she widened the loop on one strap and slid it over Spock's long fingers.  That bare second was long enough for him to move his other arm around her back and pull her against his body.  He leaned down and caught her gasp of surprise in a hard, quick kiss.

Pulling away, he lifted her onto one shoulder.  "We have not yet made use of this room.  There is much I would show thee."

"Spock, you cheater. Put me down!"

His hands paused in mid-squeeze on her thighs and bottom.  "I go no further without thy consent."

Hesitating, Nyota wondered if she should go through with it. This was still her husband, an altered version.

"Tell me thy choice.  Thy behavior in the next three seconds determines which of us shall take command." His lips moved against her neck, making her knees tremble. "One of us shall act at the other's will and pleasure. Thou, or myself?"

 ...

---

"How bold one gets when one is sure of being loved." - Sigmund Freud. Letter to his fiancée Martha Bernays (27 June, 1882, from the 1961 volume Letters of Sigmund Freud 1873-1939).

---

Nyota tried to get free, but Spock's strong grip kept her in place. "Put me down first, adun. Then I will answer your question," Nyota said with a sweetness she did not feel. "I'd rather not be draped around your neck and shoulders like a lamb being carried into the shearing shed."

"I ought to shear thee of that tiny gown and leave the boots on," he muttered, setting her down on her feet.

Lust slowed his reflexes, and Nyota skittered out of reach. They circled each other again, each with a restraint on one wrist.

Spock moved close enough for her to feel heat radiating from his body. It reminded her of the first time she'd stood more than an arm's length away from him at Starfleet one damp January afternoon. Some hint of openness and intimacy in his voice made Nyota's fingers tremble as he spoke to her, and she'd dropped her stylus. Spock hadn't touched her hand as he handed it back to her, but she felt his heat and every part of her seemed to absorb it. His warmth and the subtle, gentlemanly smoothness of his actions made her crave his closeness.

Now her body drank in his warmth again, in a new time and place, with the same feeling of attachment. High Vulcan speech, mating fever, none of it was enough to frighten her away. This was her bondmate, who she trusted despite his erratic behavior. Woman's intuition was an illogical concept, but Nyota felt safe. Safe enough to play.

"Stand still," she commanded. "Don't touch me."

Spock cocked an eyebrow at her, but he complied.

"Why aren't you naked yet?" she asked, outlining the hardness pressing against the front of his loose trousers with her fingers.

Spock's eyes closed and he sucked in a breath. Opening his eyes, he gave her a hard look. "Thou granted me neither the time nor the freedom to -"

"Pssshh. If you'd wanted me enough, you'd have asked me for permission. This is the strangest foreplay we've ever had."

Spock squinted at her, as though remembering something. "Permission? We are bonded..."

"Yes, but obviously there are things we haven't learned about each other. I'm not even sure this is you I'm talking to right now, my own Spock."

"I am myself, but...changed. " He extended a hand. "T'hy'la, thou art safe with me. What is the worst thing that could possibly happen?"

Her face grew hot as she admitted, "I'd act uncontrolled, wild...I'd become all feelings, all desire. You aren't the only one who has trouble handling emotions sometimes."

Taken aback, he asked, "Dost thou mean that despite our bond...despite our years together, thou hast been..." he switched to Standard. "As the saying goes, 'holding back on me'?"

Nyota's lips quavered as she answered, but she was honest. "Uh, yes. Sometimes. Unfortunately."

Spock gave her a look of mock severity which transformed into a wicked smile. "Ah, wife, I intend to collect on my debt."

In a flash of movement, he grabbed the handful of unused restraints from her hand. When Nyota tried to pull them back, Spock seized the restraint attached to her wrist. She grabbed the restraint attached to his own wrist. They scuffled without harming each other, trying to slip out of the other's grasp. Spock allowed Nyota to push him against the side of the elevated wooden platform. Recessed silver-colored hooks with rounded tips were inset in several places.

Spock held her close against him, slowly moving his hips in a way that made Nyota moan.

"I accept any choice offered to me," he said. His voice sounded strained. The expression in his eyes revealed only tenderness. "I will not think less of thee because of it."

Nyota held out her free wrist.

Spock pressed a kiss into the palm of her hand and slipped a restraint over her trembling fingers. He held out his own unrestrained wrist to her, and she bound it.

The soles of her boots scraped lightly against the floor as he moved her against the platform, securing her wrists so that her arms stood out slightly away from her sides. Every few seconds he made eye contact, as though checking to ensure that she was still comfortable with him.

"Mal (Legs)," Spock whispered, sinking to a kneeling position. After a long look at her legs and the boots, he touched her. He pressed kisses along the length of her legs, paused to bite the backs of her knees, squeezed her shuddering thighs and nipped at them, moved between her thighs to lick and tease. Panting, Nyota pulled at the restraints; Spock had left enough length and play on the straps so that she was able to seize a handful of his hair, stopping the movement of his head.

"Bekh-tor. Wait," she said. "Unfasten my hand."

He did, his lips brushing the soft skin of her inner thighs. Wetting her fingertips, she reached down and rubbed behind his ears, then along the edges, making little circles around the points. Spock gasped and clutched her hips to steady himself, groaning.

"Nice," she murmured. "This version of you likes having his ears touched just as much as my normal Spock does, when he isn't in Ponn Farr. What would you do if I sucked the point?"

"I...I would...lose control of myself," he growled, rubbing his cheek against her vulva. Beard stubble rasped lightly against the satiny cloth. "Sanoi. Please do it, I beg thee."

"All right, but you must obey me. Release me and pull down a cushion." He did, grabbing a puffy rectangle from atop the platform. She knelt to face him. Spock was wide-eyed and panting, and did not resist as she pulled his head forward and sucked the pointed tip of his ear into her warm mouth. His hands clutched her bottom as his body responded.

"Mercy..."

"Are you serious? I haven't even had your other ear yet, Mister," she replied, moving her mouth to the other side of his head. This time she sucked harder. With a loud growl, he pulled away, lifted her, and tried to push her down onto the big cushions scattered over the platform. She wriggled out of his grasp; he caught her and moved her into a seated position at the edge of the platform and stood on the floor between her spread legs.

Spock took half a step back and unfastened his trousers, pulled them off, kicked them aside, moved in. Nyota placed her hand flat in the middle of his chest, and he stopped.

"Nash-veh aitlu (I want)," he demanded, scowling.

"Ri wi (Not yet)."

"Nash-veh tan-tor (give me)." He clutched her hips. Teeth nipped at her neck and shoulders, gently enough to avoid bruising but hard enough to let her know he was excited.

Nyota quivered with each love bite. Soon she could no longer keep still, and tried to bite him back. He grinned and leapt easily atop the platform, reclining on the cushioned mat. As she climbed onto the platform and reached for him Spock moved away. He taunted her, allowing her to land only a few bites on his body. Then she managed to nip the hollow of his hip, just to the right of the treasure trail of hair growing down his abdomen; he groaned and stopped moving.

"See what you're missing?" she teased, and leaned down for another, lower bite. One of the hard muscles on his lower belly flexed; then he pulled her onto his lap as he sat up. He bound one of her wrists to the platform.

"Let me go," Nyota breathed.

"Thou hast a free hand, and are at liberty to leave," he grinned, moving her legs apart and arranging her over his lap. His hardness brushed against her beneath the short hem of her slip. She felt herself heating, widening, growing wet at the contact.

"How kind of thee to forgo underwear." He pressed a kiss to the rise of one breast, and the light prickles of his stubble raised goosebumps on her skin. "Allow me to show my appreciation."

Spock caught the narrow strap of her slip between his teeth, slid it down and eagerly sucked her nipple into his mouth. Nyota cried out, then gave in to enjoyment of one her favorite things, something she never discussed and felt shy about requesting. Her free hand stroked and pulled at his hair; he growled and his lips moved to her other breast.

The restraint did part of the work of holding her in place - I'll gladly give a positive, anonymous customer testimonial, no question - Spock's strong arms did the rest. He left her hips free to rub against him. Beneath the fabric she felt him. Erect, bobbing, rising, moving close, but not close enough.

"Frustrated?" He smirked and relaxed his grip.

"Oh! You -"

As Spock let go, Nyota quickly used her unrestrained hand to slide the other free of the hook. She seized his wrists, lifted his arms over his head - he fought back just enough, not too much - and secured both wrist restraints to hooks near the edge of the platform. The remaining restraints fit around his ankles; she fastened his legs down and balanced herself over him on her hands and knees.

"Spock," she whispered, her forehead pressed against his. "Willing?"

"Want in," he groaned. "Let me?"

"Yes."

Vulcan-built, the platform proved just as sturdy as the bench they'd used during their second night in the cave. The telepathic mating bond made Nyota feel stronger, and she did not ride Spock gently. Fortunately, the platform seemed as sturdy as all of the other carved wooden furniture and was in no danger of collapsing under their weight.

The feverish sensations grew more intense, and she became more aware of his reactions. Nyota wanted to feel Spock's hands. Pulling away, she unhooked his wrists and ankles; he surged over her in a wave of joyful energy.

Earlier Spock theorized that repeatedly coupling in the same eight positions strained Nyota's thigh muscles. Now he remedied the problem by coaxing and bending them both into new positions, a few of which she knew they'd never tried before...at least not with each other. She didn't care where Spock had learned them before bonding with her, as she was now the sole beneficiary of those lessons.

Sturdy mats and cushions made from soft, resilient fabrics made their experimentation easier. Some positions made Nyota laugh, others made her gasp in surprised delight.

He rose up on his knees; she planted her feet flat against the platform and leaned back on one elbow to steady herself as he moved inside her. They held each other's free hands, so that her head and torso were suspended in the air. The position was difficult to hold for long, and Spock grabbed her waist when he felt Nyota's feet begin to slide.

One strong hand slid around her hips and lifted her so that only her head and shoulders rested on the platform as he rocked into her, bracing himself with his free hand. Nyota rested her arms on Spock's shoulders as he leaned forward to kiss her mouth and any other part of her he could reach. The position of their bodies made kissing awkward, and he made a frustrated sound before changing their positions again.

Finally they lay face to face. Their hands fumbled with the hem of her short gown, pulled it over her head, flung it aside. She wore the waist beads underneath.

"Aahh...that sound..." he sighed as he thrust and she moved.

"Which sound - us, down there?"

"Yes, that is good, but I meant the beads, the little rattle they make each time we move together. It is intoxicating." He smiled at her. "Listen to us."

She listened.

"I hear...the beads...our skin rubbing against the cushions. Heavy rainfall outside."

The idea of a rainstorm sweeping through the valley while they made love excited them both. Mental impressions across their bond showed Spock's attention focusing, plunging deeper into the enjoyment of their physical bonding. The last fragment of her reserve vanished as she tightened her inner muscles around him.

"Nyota,t'hy'la, yes..."

As they moved more wildly, their breathing grew louder, harsher.

Spock's long fingers sought her temples as his gaze met hers, asking consent.

She pressed his fingers to her skin.

Kashkau, Nyota...wuhkuh eh teretuhr

Our minds are joined, Nyota...together, and as one.

Familiar love, trust, and passion filled her mind. The altered version of Spock changed, merging with the man she knew, and her bondmate returned. Deep satisfaction and affection flowed from him, something other beings would call happiness.

Raindrops pounded against the stone face of the cave house. Inside, a sort of cozy happiness arced between Nyota and Spock like branches of lightning.

We made it. We survived Ponn Farr. Sudden fatigue weighted her eyelids as she lay on the mat, every muscle limp.

"Nyota?"

"Mmm. Sorry, I'm unconscious. Give me a minute."

"Ashayam, I need not remind you that your statement is illogical. Have I exhausted you?" He lifted the beads up, gently bit a spot on the small of her back.

Nyota peered up at him. "My husband's returned."

"I did not leave you."

She rolled onto her side and stared at him. "You weren't quite yourself earlier - you spoke a variant of High Vulcan, and you were more stubborn and whimsical than usual."

"Fascinating. My recollections, though not precise, differ. I grew restless while you slept and decided to examine the contents of this room more closely. You entered the room wearing boots -" he smiled "-and enticed me to engage in intimate play involving restraints, which I do not regret. It was most agreeable." He kissed her neck and shoulder.

"Sweetheart, one of us must be suffering temporary sex-induced delirium, because here's what I remember: I got into a weird argument with you about who was going to wear the restraints. Each of us had a restraint on one wrist. Then we worked out something consensual and uh, played a bit. You initiated a mind meld and I...sensed your return to your present state of mind."

"I am quite well now and there is no need for either one of us to be concerned. Did I harm you?"

"No. You didn't force me and you weren't violent."

"I gave you pleasure?"

Speaking of it aloud made her face grow warm with embarrassment, despite her enthusiastic participation. "Great pleasure, and I hope that I did the same for you."

"I experienced intense physical and psychological satisfaction during our activities. How delightfully contradictory you are, myashalik bondmate. You bite and ride me fiercely, then exhibit demure shyness when I ask you to discuss sensual pleasures with me. It is a fascinating puzzle. Someday we should attempt to stimulate each other with words alone."

"Are you challenging me?"

"I am."

"Wait until we get back to the Enterprise, Mister. Have you forgotten that I'm a Communications Officer? Baby, words are my business. I'll talk you into a frenzy."

"Your challenge is accepted. You do remember that I am your Commander? I will seduce you with my voice...and you will like it."

Nyota smiled; Spock's voice was one of her favorite sounds in any galaxy. "You're on. When?"

"Sneak attack."

An anticipatory thrill curled up her spine. "It's a deal."

...

Both had enough energy left to wash, dress, and tidy the cave house.

"My communicator's working again," Nyota said as she pulled it from its charger. "I thought that it was broken when I checked it earlier; the screen was blank, it wouldn't power up."

Spock picked it up and quickly examined it, opening the back, closing it, powering it up and running diagnostic program.

"Nothing appears to be amiss. I will ensure that you receive a new one upon our return to the Enterprise."

"Honey, there's no need to go to the expense. It's just a quirk, I think. It happened just before I went into that room and found you in a bit of a state."

"A temporal anomaly of some sort may have occurred. Perhaps this place is a p'laaka, a place where unusual, unpredictable, and illogical events happen."

"Hmm. Earth has places like that," she mused. "Reminds me of a small valley outside New Nairobi where people claimed to experience 'time slips'. Hikers or drivers would suddenly see images of people driving herds of cattle or goats, but the people wore clothing and hairstyles from hundreds of years ago. Drivers found themselves passing villages not marked on any maps." She pressed her hands against the small of her back, stretching.

"Time slips? They are likely illusions." Spock examined his own communicator, silently entering a mandatory request for a replacement communicator for Lieutenant Uhura.

"Ah, but not everyone believes that they are illusions. Sometimes the mysterious people speak or wave hello, and later vanish. Of course, none of the people, cattle, or villages are visible when the drivers or hikers return to the valley, trying to show others what they'd seen." Nyota touched his cheek.

"So, a p'laaka. Perhaps we shouldn't remain here too long, then. I prefer this version of my husband, not a time-traveling, time-slipped one."

...

Later, they stood side by side in companionable silence in the kitchen, opening ready meals and brewing tea. Spock suggested that they eat on the small balcony, which they did, breathing in the fresh air. Few signs of the early morning rainfall remained, but Nyota noticed bright spots of color - tough, weedy wildflowers - among the short grass and rocks.

"Shall we explore our surroundings?" Spock suggested, noticing her curiosity. "There is a way to climb to the top of the small hill this house is carved from."

Broad steps hewn into the rock formed a rough staircase curving around the far side of the hill, the back of the cave house. Small plants and flowers grew out of cracks. They stood on a small, level area on top of the hill and looked around at the valley. Other cave houses were scattered through the valley, and roads and small streams curved through the rough terrain.

"It's remarkable," Nyota said. "This place has a kind of severe, special beauty."

Spock looked at her. "Indeed," he replied.

"Oh, tal-kam, I have an idea. Maybe we could watch the stars from here tonight?"

Spock almost responded with a calculation of the likelihood of slipping and falling on the steps in the dark, but decided that it would be illogical to say so, as solar-powered lights were set into the ground near each step.

"Perhaps, if you do not feel tired. It is an intelligent suggestion. Our distance from the city lights makes this an excellent location for recreational stargazing."

She smiled, brushing his hand with her fingers, and he realized that she knew quite well what he'd chosen not to say.

...

"Gaila?"

The screen switched away from audio-only mode, revealing a towel-clad Gaila in her quarters. Her red was hair coated with some sort of deep conditioning product, and she held out one hand with fingers spread as though her nails were wet.

"Nyota! Thank the Gods and everything, I was getting worried about you."

"Hey, sweetie, how are you? Is this a convenient time?"

"Maybe I should ask you that question? Are you holed up with that hot husband of yours someplace?" Gaila cocked an eyebrow in an exaggerated impression of Spock.

"Uh, it wasn't exactly a lover's rendezvous, but we're both safe and well. He's meditating, I'm sort of resting."

"Yeah, I'll bet you're resting. Hey, what happened with that criminal, that asshole you had me translating for?"

Nyota summarized the crime, the effort to frame Sarek, the pursuit and arrest of of T'ober, and Spock's willingness to provide a blood transfusion for his father. "Amazingly enough, everyone's still alive. The Enterprise crew are safe and back aboard ship. Sarek is healing well from the surgery - I'll contact him next - and Spock's all right too, he survived the Pon -" Nyota's hand flew up to cover her mouth. "Oh, no, I didn't mean to mention -"

"Ny, it's all right, we're on a secure connection, and I added a few filters of my own; comes in handy for long-distance relationships, so you can, uh, show certain things to the other party during a call. Anyway, don't worry. I think I know what you were about to say, and I won't tell anyone."

"Thanks, Gaila. Spock probably wouldn't hide it if pressed to answer, but we'd like to keep it quiet."

"You're really all right? Not hurt or anything?" Gaila looked serious.

"I'm okay. It was pretty intense, but we survived. He didn't hurt me. He tried to be careful, and I...well, it wasn't exactly a hardship to be wanted so much, and to want him in return."

Gaila rolled her eyes. "In other words, you two behaved the way you normally do, just several times a day. Didn't you think I noticed how many mysterious off-campus 'errands' you had those last two quarters at the Academy?"

"Gaila, it wasn't like that. I've told you we were careful about the teacher-student sex thing -"

"Depends on what you think sex is."

"Indeed," Nyota said dryly. "Speaking of which, one of the last times we had a private conversation you weren't happy. Are you okay now?"

"Relationship foolishness. I wanted to date two people; each of them thought that I should date only one, that one being themselves. Meanwhile they wanted to date as many others as they liked. Woulda been fine if they hadn't put restrictions on me. Nobody owns me. Just once I'd like to be with somebody who'll listen and understand why I'm the way I am, instead of telling me what to do. How is it, loving someone?" Gaila asked abruptly.

"Oh, It's...hard work. Difficult. Always listening, as you say. Trying to care for the other person, but not wearing yourself down so that you have nothing left to give. But...being happy, too, and comfortable. Acceptance, I guess. I'm not sure I can be philosophical about it, because it takes so much effort. But it's good, it truly is. Someone is right for you, somewhere. Keep trying."

"Huh. I thought you were going to tell me about happy endings," Gaila said.

"No, because it's never over. Kind of like when archeologists find thousand-year-old footprints in a riverbed. People make impressions in your soul, some more powerfully than others."

"Now you do sound like a philosopher."

"Didn't mean to," Nyota shrugged.

"Hmm. Anyway, I'm single this week."

"So I'll contact you next week, when you aren't single anymore. Gaila, most people like you even if they don't want to sleep with you."

"Ha! If only that were enough; I hate feeling lonely." A chime sounded. "There's the timer. I have to go rinse this stuff out of my hair now. Glad you're all right."

"Let's try to meet up next shore leave. Take care of yourself. Yourself, not some sweet talker who doesn't treat you right," Nyota urged her. "Stay safe."

"I'll manage. Best wishes to the hubby. Stay safe."

...

New Vulcan's night skies were rich with stars, planets, and even a moon. Spock's fingers traced the outlines of the more notable planets and constellations over Nyota's chest, belly, and thighs as he described them to her. The couple lay on a thick blanket, spread out on the flat area atop the cave house. Lights shone from the windows of a few other cave houses in the valley. Around her shoulders Nyota wore a soft, dark red shawl, a surprise gift that Spock had brought with him to the valley.

A muscle in Nyota's thigh quivered in response to Spock's outlining the elliptical orbit of an icy nearby planet. "Perhaps my description of that eternal winter was too vivid?" he teased. "If you are cold, we can go inside."

His hand felt warm through her skirt. "No, sweetheart, you're hot enough for me. It's just some residual effects of the mating bond, I think. Considering how much we were...together this week, I should be able to control myself by now."

She could not see his smile in the darkness, but heard it as his voice pitched a bit deeper. "Please do not feel compelled to control yourself when we are alone."

She stroked her fingers across the back of his hand. "Oh, I am so lucky to have you. This may sound odd, but there are still some men out there who suspect that their wives aren't virtuous enough, or faithful if they enjoy physical intimacy."

Spock's head turned toward her in the darkness, and she sensed appalled curiosity. "How did you learn this?"

"I knew a couple of women who found out the hard way...one almost got divorced because she asked for it too often, and the other's partner said she moaned and talked too much."

"Obviously these men are not Vulcan," Spock replied disapprovingly.

"Really, honey, surely not all Vulcan men are so accepting of their bondmates' libido."

"The wise ones not only accept it, they nurture it," Spock replied. "Were these women bonded with humans?"

"Yes; one woman's husband was from Earth, and the other husband grew up on a space station-based colony."

"It is a pity," returned Spock. "Certain attitudes about gender and power prevent advanced human sexual development."

"Oh, forget it. I'm not arguing with you about this. After all, you're the only man I want, and I think you're happy with my desire for you...are you?"

"Happy may not be the precise term, but...I find our closeness most agreeable."

A cool breeze moved over them, and Spock changed positions so that his body sheltered hers.

"Thank you," she whispered. They watched the sky for some time, each lost in thought. After several minutes Nyota asked, "You spoke to Sarek earlier today? Is his health improving?"

"Yes, to both questions."

"Did he speak of the crime...of T'ober, or Thelev?"

Spock's fingers tensed into a loose fist, then relaxed against her forearm. "Full confessions were obtained from each. They now await separate trials. New Vulcan is not free of crime, and several cases precede them. By the time we return to theEnterprise, their trials will not have begun; no matter, as we have both given full reports and are not required to return to New Vulcan for the trial." He sighed. "According to Sarek, there is a long list of previously scheduled trials for smuggling, public disorder, and fraud. All have slowed down the court process."

"Even a new world has its problems. Especially a new world, maybe." Nyota shook her head. "Believe me, I didn't look forward to being in the same place with either one of 'em again, but I do wonder what will happen to them."

"Personally, I am not concerned with the fate of either one," Spock said sharply. "They committed criminal acts. The woman behaved as a v'tosh ka'tur, as an illogical, emotion-driven Vulcan. She was motivated by greed, selfishness, and disregard for the lives of beings different from herself. All of these factors threaten social cohesion on New Vulcan. Our society can no longer be described as monolithic. In addition, she expressed disdain and everything short of hatred for you. No, I do not care." Spock's voice was raw and harsh, as she had rarely heard it.

Nyota reached up and cradled his face between her hands, kissed him. "Easy, honey, easy now." Through their bond she felt him trap his anger, control it, push it away.

"She also said horrible things about you, adun. It made me angry, but I knew she was goading me so I didn't let her bait me. The palm of my slapping hand did itch around her, I'll admit."

"Yet you controlled yourself despite provocations that would anger even a Vulcan woman. It is regrettable that neither one of us is a stranger to insult. I have been insulted by strangers and acquaintances many times, as have you."

"Yes. I think that's one of the reasons we understand each other so well."

Nyota remembered random shouted or sneered insults during her travels on Earth, often a familiar two-syllable English word that everyone on the planet seemed to know. Sometimes they paired it with the familiar one-syllable word that too many women heard directed at them at least once in life. Sometimes actions replaced the two-syllable word: storekeepers followed her in shops or watched her more closely than they did other customers. There were hundreds of other small, speaking actions that stung her psyche like little darts, but she'd tried to harden herself against them. Sometimes it worked. Often it didn't.

Spock's skin was in contact with hers. He sensed her memories, and she knew that he emphasized with her even if he couldn't completely understand.

"We have spoken of these things before." He stroked her arm.

"Yes. It's part of our life together, and at the same time it isn't part of our personal life. "

"That is imprecise."

"Yes, but it is true. Together, we deal with it. As the saying goes, 'a triple-braided cord is stronger'. "

"An interesting choice of metaphor, tal-kam. You, one cord." Spock stroked the side of her face. "Myself, another. The third...?"

"The third is other people, our families and friends. Sarek's willingness to accept me. My parents' acceptance of you. Our friends on the Enterprise. I know that luck is illogical, but we are lucky to work with people we call friends. I know that Leonard yells at you sometimes but he admires you so much, and he's kind in his own way. Scotty, who tries to understand and help people, more than he ever lets on. Sulu's a good friend, he stands up for people and tries to see the best in them. Even Jim, as wild as he is, has some pretty solid ethics and values and you can trust him. So many other crewmates, too. I pray every day for the people on that ship, because they try so hard to do the right thing on each mission."

"Understood. I also appreciate our 'third cord'. My life has changed in ways I could not have calculated."

From the west, a distant cry - a squeal, really - sounded, followed by laughter. Spock and Nyota looked around. The voices sounded again, laughing and shouting in Vulcan.

"Come here, I want your delightful plump thighs!"

"You must catch me first! Will you bite them?"

"Uh, maybe we should go inside and give that couple some privacy," Nyota said, rising to her feet.

"Agreed. It is the polite thing to do, despite their illogical choice to chase each other around the outside of the house."

"Hey, to each their own," Nyota said. They rolled up the blanket together to the accompaniment of more squeals and laughter. "Chase me some time, Spock. I won't object, as long as you give me a head start."

Spock held his breath for a second. He'd had fantasies about doing exactly that, but finding the right time and place to tell Nyota...he would wait.

...

Leaving the cave house was bittersweet. As Starfleet officers, both were anxious to return to the structured environment and adventure that filled their lives aboard the Enterprise. As a couple, they already missed being able to revel in physical and emotional closeness during days structured by sunlight, not chronometers. As members of New Vulcan society, they had fulfilled their role; Spock survived Ponn Farr, as did his bondmate. With Spock's Ponn Farr ended, Vulcan society had nothing to fear from a virile, physically powerful, and physically satisfied half-Vulcan man.

Spock's hand rested on the dashboard of the transport vehicle. He turned to Nyota and stroked his fingers across the back of her hand.

"I love you," he said quietly.

The smile on her face made his heart pound in his side. For a moment he wanted to pull her out of the vehicle, carry her back into the house, and sprawl across the large bed, kissing her until she agreed to his impulsive plan to leave Starfleet and live on New Vulcan. Or perhaps somewhere outside New Nairobi instead. Or in San Francisco. Anywhere they could be together without people constantly whispering and staring and judging.

That place would be nowhere in any galaxy, he knew. Their life together would always be challenging, but he wanted to stay with her.

"I love you, too," she said, and kissed him. He felt the truth of it, exhilarating and reassuring. She wanted to be with him, be his steady partner in love... and in Starfleet. Already she thought of them working together on the bridge, trusting and helping each other. This wasn't the right time to suggest running away together.

Reluctantly, Spock ended the kiss and started the vehicle.

The drive to the city seemed longer than Nyota remembered. "Spock, where are we going?"

"I wish to show you something before we return to the city." He drove into a different valley, this one also dotted with cave houses.

Spock pulled the transport to the side of the road. "Please take note of the cave house fifty-five meters away from us."

"Oh...it looks charming. There's even a garden behind that fence, those tall plants look as though they go all around the house. It's different from the cave house we used, but very nice in a different way."

"It is gratifying to know that you find the house acceptable, because it belongs to you."

Puzzled, she turned to stare at him. "Sweetheart, what do you mean? I've never even been to this place before."

"I purchased it for you two days ago while you slept. I became aware of your fondness for the cave house; you verbally expressed your approval of its aesthetic and physical qualities. After researching similar domiciles I selected this one. Unfortunately it is still occupied at the moment, so we cannot go inside. A caretaker will maintain the house while we are away. However, when we return to new Vulcan, it will be unoccupied, with a few basic furnishings, including a large bed..." he lightly pressed his shoulder against hers. "If you ever wish for us to enjoy solitude during our visits here, the house awaits. New Vulcan legal code permits ownership by offworlders with tangible connections to the new society. Even if you leave me, this house belongs to you. You are not required to let me enter unless you desire my presence."

"Oh, Spock. It's almost too much, I..." Nyota hugged him. "Thank you. I'm a bit overwhelmed. Nobody's ever bought me a house before, so pardon me if I'm at a loss for words."

"Are words always necessary? It pleases me to please you." Warm lips met hers. "I cherish thee."

...

Their last few days on New Vulcan were filled with a social whirl. The communications system at Sarek's home held more invitations than the suddenly fashionable couple could possibly attend. Their sudden disappearance so soon after the pursuit and arrest of a title Vulcan lady did nothing to help Vulcan society forget Sarek's half-human son and his human bride. Instead, as they were dismayed to learn, people's curiosity intensified.

Nyota managed to block out a few hours of solitude, using the time to purchase a surprise gift for Spock at the carpenter Donstelralth's shop and donate blood at the hospital where Sarek had been treated. Enough human guest workers now lived on New Vulcan to make her donation useful. After consulting with Spock, she agreed to a recorded interview with a Vulcan cultural historian from the national archives, speaking about the positive - and, as politely as possible, some of the negative - aspects of her experience as a human in a changing Vulcan society.

T'Pau approached the couple during the intermission of a poetry and music performance. AS they often did at public events, Spock and Nyota stood near Sarek and his small entourage; increased interest in the couple had not resulted in an increased number of friends.

Holding her breath, Nyota smoothed a hand over her dress. It was a modest new creation by T'Voria. Its drapery hung a little loosely on her as a result of the weight she'd temporarily lost during Ponn Farr.

They greeted T'Pau, who gazed at them imperiously.

"You both survived, I see. Good," she said, then turned and walked off.

The remark was so vague that all who overheard might assume T'Pau referred to the crime and their role in solving it. However, the greenish flush along Spock's ears told Nyota that the woman somehow knew the real reason for their disappearance from New Vulcan social life.

"Tabia ni ngozi," Nyota sighed.

Spock paused, quickly translating the Swahili proverb. "'Habit is a skin'?"

"T'sai T'Pau has been a, shall we say, direct communicator for most of her life, true? She's not about to suddenly shower hugs and kisses just to make us feel better. In an indirect way, she may have just given us her blessing. It's nice to have her approval of our survival as a couple." Nyota winked.

Spock half-smiled. "I suppose that we can expect a much warmer 'welcome back', complete with hugs and kisses, from your own family."

"Hugs, and a welcome which you secretly enjoy," she said quietly, continuing in Swahili, speaking close to his ear in the noisy room.

He spoke to her across their bond, the emotion in his tranquil facial expression easily read by anyone who truly cared for him.

As a child, there were times when the fact of my human blood weighed heavily upon me. As a man, I begin to understand the benefits. I am ready to spend many more years learning with you.

Cool air wafted through the hall from a pair of open balcony doors. Night sounds of the busy new city and its unpredictable combinations of voices, music, animals, machines, and conveyances crept in.

Spock extended two fingers to meet Nyota's in the ozh'esta, the traditional Vulcan finger kiss. Together, they walked out into the silvery light of the New Vulcan moon.

The End

...

EPILOGUE

Sulu never needed to brag, and so he did not openly discuss his personal activities on New Vulcan. His memories provided pleasant daydream and fantasy material during lonely nights in deep space. Workplace flirtations were a bad idea, he thought...but even Sulu had weak moments.

The interpersonal shenanigans aboard the Enterprise usually led Leonard McCoy to comment wryly on the mismatch between hormones and common sense; however, he couldn't help smiling the next time he saw the Commander's fingers brush lightly against the Lieutenant's in the turbolift. If only he could meet someone nice during his next shore leave. He might finish fewer bottles of whisky and play fewer hands of poker. Filling his free time was becoming expensive.

Scotty, although cautious about a shipboard romance, quietly took a risk and felt something bloom.

Jim Kirk explained to the seductive Vulcan woman, T'seau, that he wasn't sure he'd keep in touch, explaining, "It isn't you, it's me." Unsurprisingly Jim discovered that T'seau's communication devices automatically rejected his attempts to contact her when he made a return visit to New Vulcan.

Spock and Nyota's love, trust, and support of each other grew a little more each day, but they had difficulty imagining life without Starfleet or the Enterprise. They began discussing the future: finding a semi-permanent home/homes, or living a semi-nomadic life in space.

Interplanetary demand for her 'intimate accessories' and Ponn Farr supplies skyrocketed after T'voria expanded her product line. In addition to restraints with safety releases, the line included specially designed pillows and lingerie sized to fit a wide range of Vulcan and off-world body types and shapes. Anonymous customer testimonials from Nyota and influential Vulcan women boosted sales through word-of-mouth. T'voria's company became a quietly respected employer and exporter on New Vulcan. She is now too busy to accept most of the invitations to parties she receives from those who previously snubbed her, and is admired for her charitable efforts on behalf of low-income Vulcans and alien guest workers.

T'voria found enough spare time to collaborate with Nyota, Sarek, and the Uhura family, establishing an interplanetary project intended to reduce bigotry. Beings of varied racial and ethnic backgrounds work together on education, housing, and food aid programs. She and her family look forward to joining Nyota and Spock during a future visit to the United States of Africa.