Title: IN MY DREAMS
Authors: Saidicam29 and
T’Lea
Codes: Sa/Am, Sp/Ch
Rating: NC-17
Beta: Selek Any mistakes still remaining are the fault
of the authors.
Summary: Events taking
place immediately after the episode ‘Journey To Babel’. Spock is suffering from some unusual
symptoms and cannot ascertain their cause, while Sarek takes advantage of his
second chance at life.
Disclaimer: The
usual. Star Trek belongs to Paramount
and/or Gene Roddenberry, and this is merely a fan-spun tale inspired by their work. No money made, no infringement intended.
Bahweep! Bahweep!
Bahweep!
"Attention, all
hands. Red Alert. This is not a drill. Evacuate this deck immediately.
Attention, all hands. Red Alert. This is not a drill. Evacuate this deck
immediately. Attention, all hands. Red Alert…"
Spock was surrounded by
smoke and darkness. Obviously something had happened to the ship, but he
couldn't remember what...an attack, perhaps? He recognized that he was in Lab
6, and as far as he could see he was alone. The emergency light was all that he
had to see by as he tried to find the exit. Just as he found it, the doors
opened and Nurse Chapel stood on the other side.
He could see her lips move as she spoke, but he heard no sounds. He attempted to move towards her
but was stopped at the door by some sort of force field. He tried to push
against it, but it held firm. Seeing his predicament, Christine also pushed on
the field, and tried to speak again. Still he could hear nothing, but could
tell she was shouting on the other side. He shook his head to indicate that he
didn't understand her words. Christine became frantic, and started pounding
against the force field as she shouted at him. Spock tried to read her lips,
but they were moving too quickly for him to follow.
Then he heard some noise in the lab. It was a soft rustling noise, and was
coming from behind him. Spock turned around to investigate, then only saw
darkness...
Even though he didn't
open his eyes, Spock quickly became conscious. He had sensed another's presence
in the room, and could tell by the soft rustling that they were making an
effort to move quietly. There was a faint odor in the air. Something flowery,
delicate, feminine, and familiar. "Miss Chapel." How odd that she
could be here, when he had just been dreaming of her. Could he, in his
ever-increasing state of pon farr, have summoned her to his cabin without
remembering it?
"Yes, Mr.
Spock?" Her voice was soft and slow...seductive. He had always thought so.
"I had the most
startling dream. You were trying to tell me something, but I couldn't hear
you..." She was behind him, by the door, so he rolled onto his back as he
opened his eyes to address her. His breath caught in his throat, and a wave of
desire washed over him at the sight of her. She was standing in the doorway to
his sleeping area, facing him, and completely nude. Her long, platinum hair was
loose and had spilled over her shoulders to slightly cover her full, pert
breasts. A light from the outer room shone around her, highlighting her form,
and giving her an almost supernatural appearance as if she was a vision.
He had never expected to
find her thus, and it took every bit of control he had not to let the pon farr
rule his actions. He closed his eyes to block the view, but her image was
already burned onto his brain. He could hear the patter of her bare feet moving
across the floor, and knew she was coming closer. He didn't dare open his eyes
for fear he would lose control completely.
"I came to tell you
that we are bound for Vulcan. We'll be there in just a few days." Her
voice was barely more than a whisper.
"Vulcan." The
words reminded him of his obligations, his duty. He could not have her. She was
not his, and he belonged to another. "Nurse, you must leave."
He felt her climb on the
bed near his feet. "You can't last that long, can you?"
"I must," he
said forcefully, more to strengthen his own resolve than to answer her. His
eyes sprang open when he felt her feather-light touch on his inner thighs. He
looked down to see her kneeling between his legs. He was taken aback to find
that he was also naked, as he could not remember undressing before he lay down
to rest. "You do not understand."
She looked from his
erection up to his eyes. "Not completely maybe, but I have a theory."
She slowly crawled over his body until she was straddling his hips.
Beep… beep… beep… beep…
beep… beep… beep…
Spock became aware of a
soft, rhythmic sound. Upon listening further, he realized there were also
sounds of people moving around, and talking in a nearby room. He awoke fully to
find himself breathing hard, with a throbbing erection. It had been a dream. A
dream based on a memory, but drastically altered from what had actually
occurred in his quarters that day. But he was not in his quarters. He quickly
surveyed his surroundings and was momentarily surprised to find himself in
sickbay. The repetitive beeping was his own heart, amplified several times on
the medical monitor. Turning his head, he saw his father in the bed to his
left. What was Sarek doing on the Enterprise? Then he remembered. His father
was recovering from his heart surgery of four days ago, and the Enterprise was
bound for a diplomatic conference on Babel.
Spock was surprised that
he had fallen asleep again. The drug that was used to increase his blood
production for Sarek's surgery had been having some lasting effects on his
chemistry, and his recovery was taking longer than expected. He wondered if
this drug might possibly cause sleep disturbances in Vulcans. The case studies
of Rigellians that he had shown Dr. McCoy in his effort to get him to perform
surgery on Sarek did not mention any effects on sleep patterns… more
specifically, nothing on dreaming.
After regulating his
breathing once again, he focused on controlling his other physical discomfort,
which was proving to be more difficult than he had expected. Vulcans rarely
dream, and he had only had dreams of that variety one other time in his
life...when he had been in pon farr. But that had only been 8.37 months ago,
and he had never heard of the cycle reoccurring so quickly. Unless...perhaps
the challenge had not truly resolved the pon farr, but only relieved it
temporarily. Could it be returning now? He fought down the panic he felt
welling inside him. He was unbonded and away from Vulcan...and his parents were
on board. Since sleep no longer seemed desirable, nor likely, Spock decided to
try some meditation. He attempted to focus within himself, but could not escape
from the images that kept flashing through his mind. Images of her, of them, in
their ardor.
"You are restless,
Spock," Sarek said softly from the other bed.
Spock stiffened at his
father's voice, wondering how long he had been awake. "Forgive me. I did
not intend to wake you."
"I was already
awake. I do not find sickbay surroundings to be conducive for rest, even after
four days of being here." He adjusted his pillow so he could sit up and
turned on the viewscreen by his bed. "What disturbs you, my son?"
Spock’s throat
tightened, and he looked in his father’s direction. Sarek regarded him
placidly, his face relaxed. A memory of the two of them stabbed at Spock’s
consciousness. Spock had all but forgotten that there was ever anything but
tension between himself and his father.
************************
The wind blew
ferociously against the shutters. Spock pulled the covers close around his
ears. It sounded like the house would be blown from its foundations. He closed
his eyes tighter and tried to concentrate on slowing his heartbeat just as his
father had taught him. Calmness. Tranquillity. He would take his kahs wan test
soon and an adult Vulcan would not let fear overcome his logic.
Spock sat up abruptly.
I-Chaya! What if he had gone outside in this sandstorm? Throwing off his
blankets, Spock got up hurriedly and searched for his boots and cloak in the
darkness. He wasn’t about to abandon his sehlat to the elements. I-Chaya would
certainly not leave him in danger. He was Spock’s responsibility. Holding his
boots in his hand, Spock moved barefoot through the hallway, although the high
winds whistling across the desert would probably keep his parents from
detecting any sounds that he made.
Spock rounded the corner
to the back entrance of the house and stopped in his tracks. Light from his
father’s study. Now what should he do? Surely he could not get by Sarek’s open
door undetected. An adult Vulcan would not creep around his own house like a
thief in the middle of the night. He had a logical purpose for being awake at
this hour. Determined, Spock squared his shoulders and walked right into
Sarek’s office. Halfway into the room he stopped in surprise.
I-Chaya snored
rhythmically, asleep on the sofa with his head in Sarek’s lap, Sarek’s hand
resting lightly on top of his wrinkled head. The wind whipped against the house
and I-Chaya moaned in his sleep, paws twitching.
"Relax, I-Chaya. It
is only a storm," his father soothed quietly, his hand stroking the great
beast gently. I-Chaya’s head lolled over, his mouth open, fangs glistening in
the light from the fireplace. He shuddered once, then began snoring steadily
again.
"What disturbs you,
my son?" Sarek asked softly, looking up at Spock. "The storm?"
"Yes, sir. I was
concerned about I-Chaya."
"I-Chaya is quite
logical when it comes to severe weather. He would not run off to the mountains
on a night like this. You would do well to follow his example," Sarek
commented, his bemused look taking in the pair of boots in Spock’s hand and the
cloak folded over his arm.
Spock looked away from
his father’s penetrating gaze, shifting his eyes to the fireplace. He felt his
blood running to the tips of his ears. His father knew about his trips to the
mountains! Using bio-control techniques, Spock slowed the hammering of his
heart.
"Yes, Father,"
Spock responded calmly, meeting Sarek’s eyes directly. An adult Vulcan would
maintain eye contact and would not equivocate.
I-Chaya raised his
massive head and opened his mouth with a yawn as big as the Chasm of Faltok.
His eyes bleary, he caught sight of Spock and lumbered off the sofa. I-Chaya sniffed the boots in his hand and began
nudging Spock’s leg excitedly. He was ready to go to the mountains if Spock
was. Spock scratched him behind the ears.
"Sehlats are the
most loyal of beasts," Sarek said, standing up and stretching his arms
over his head. He picked up a poker and bent down, spreading the coals out
evenly in the fireplace. "I-Chaya will keep your secrets well, Spock. Just
as he kept mine when I was a boy."
Spock looked at Sarek’s
back and tried to imagine him as a boy sneaking off to the mountains with this
same faithful sehlat. He could not quite complete the picture. Sarek stood up
to his full height and faced his son. Looking up at his father’s imposing form,
Spock wondered if he would be as tall as Sarek one day.
"Come. Let us go
upstairs before we wake your mother and she discovers that we are both
restless. I do not wish to contemplate the consequences," Sarek told him,
the corner of his mouth twitching fractionally.
"Nor do I, Father.
Come on, I-Chaya. Time for bed."
The three restless
members of the household made their way upstairs. Spock quietly put his boots
and cloak on his desk chair and slipped back under the covers. I-Chaya settled
on the end of the bed. Much later, Spock heard the wind roaring even louder.
Feeling I-Chaya’s comforting weight at his feet, he rolled over and tried to go
back to sleep. As he drifted off, he became aware of warmth enveloping him. It
was the solid presence of his father as he pulled an extra blanket up to
Spock’s neck.
"It will grow
colder tonight. Sleep well, my son."
******************************
My son. It had been
nearly two decades since Spock had heard those words from his father. When he
had occasionally visited home since joining Star Fleet, he was usually treated as
a guest or an associate by Sarek, not as his son. As a child hearing those
words had been comforting, his father’s voice soft and caring, an invitation to
an open discussion between them. There had been so few of those between them
lately that Spock was too unsure of this sudden acceptance from Sarek to trust
it too much. "Nothing," he said vaguely. Seeing that Sarek intended
to stay up, Spock activated his own viewscreen.
Without looking away
from his screen Sarek quickly responded. "That is illogical. How can
'nothing' disturb you?"
Spock had hoped that
Sarek would let this particular discussion drop. He should have known better.
Since he was not about to discuss his dream with anyone, least of all his
father, he tried once again to thwart the conversation. "I only meant that
it was unimportant." He risked a glance in Sarek's direction and was
surprised to see an amused expression on his face. His father was teasing him!
Before either man could
say anything more, Christine Chapel breezed into the room carrying a large tray
of food. "Good afternoon, gentlemen. I hope you woke up from your naps
hungry." She set the tray down and went over to Spock to check and record
his vitals. "I need to palpate your abdomen to see if your liver has increased
in size."
He tried to brace
himself for her touch, but the memory of his dream was still too fresh. He
couldn't look at her face, but looking at her body only made his mind wander
further. Since she blocked his right side, the only other direction was to face
his father, and he would not risk having Sarek see his discomfort. Instead he
simply laid back and closed his eyes while attempting to distance himself from
everything around him. He was unsuccessful. He noticed everything about her.
The feel of her hands gliding over his body; the smell of her perfume, mixed
with the scent of sickbay chemicals and her own natural smell; the hum of her
mind as it brushed against his. He had felt this before, many times over the
couple of years she'd been aboard, but today he was unprepared to shield it and
couldn't prevent a slight gasp from escaping as her hands slid lower across his
waistline.
Her movements stopped
immediately. "Was that painful?" Her voice was professional, but
concerned.
"No," he said
curtly.
"Then why --"
"I assure you that
I am well, Nurse. Are you through now?" Spock spoke more sharply than he
had intended. He could see that Sarek was watching the interplay from his bed.
Christine removed her
hands and briskly covered him back up. "I guess so." She picked up
her PADD and began to record her findings. "Your test results from this
morning were normal again...that's two days in a row, finally. Since your
chemistry seems stable now, Dr. McCoy said you can be released today after
lunch. You are, however, restricted to light duty for the next two days, and
you must report to us every twelve hours for the next two weeks so we can
monitor the biochems. I know I don't have to tell you the importance of
following Star Fleet protocol to the letter. If we're even a few minutes late
on any of these check-ups we might as well just throw out all of the data we've
collected on the effects of the drug Nityapushta on Vulcans… well, on one
Vulcan anyway. Otherwise, that study of Rigellians will be all there is. I’m afraid
that you’re the guinea pig this time, Mr. Spock."
Having told him all she had to
report, she moved
over to check on Sarek. She stood on the left side of his bed and lifted the
covers to check his incision. "Your
scar looks good." She ran a medscanner over him. "You are healing
very well...even for a Vulcan." She smiled at him as she began to record
her findings.
"I am much
improved, no doubt in part due to the efficient care I have received from you
and your staff, Miss Chapel."
Christine moved over to
set a table with two place settings for their lunch. "Well, thank you,
Ambassador. It’s nice to have a grateful patient for a change." She cast a
direct look at Spock, then addressed Sarek once again. "And, please, I
thought that I told you to call me ‘Christine’... ‘Miss Chapel’ reminds me of
my aunt. My *elderly* aunt."
"Forgive me,
Christine. I would not want to confuse you with the matron of your clan,"
Sarek told her, the corner of his mouth quirking upward.
"That’s more like
it. Now, I'll have you know that I checked with your wife and she told me that
everything on this tray are your favorite foods, so you have no excuse not to
eat today."
Sarek turned off his
viewer to give her his whole attention. "Your efforts are commendable,
Christine, however, I am simply not hungry."
She continued with the
place settings. "I realize that. It's a common side effect of your heart
medication, but I'm going to let you in on a secret. Dr. McCoy thinks that
you’d rest more comfortably in your own quarters and he is considering
releasing you today. Now, he'll still want you to rest most of the time, and
we'll be stopping in to check on you and help with your physical therapy, but
at least you can stay with your wife again."
"That would be most
welcomed."
She winked
conspiratorially at him. "I thought you'd think so. But I’m going to be
honest with you. Dr. McCoy puts a lot of importance on eating, and he won't
even consider letting you go until you start taking meals on a regular basis.
So if you want to increase your probability of getting out of here, you need to
make an effort at packing away some calories. Right, Spock?"
Sarek looked back to his
son. He had noticed him watching the nurse every time she came in the room
since he'd been in sickbay, and was beginning to suspect the cause of his son's
tension the past few days.
Spock seemed to shake
himself out of his reverie. "Yes," he addressed Sarek. "The
doctor often uses blackmail as a means of getting his patients to
cooperate."
Sarek watched Spock a moment
more before responding. "I see. Then the logical action would be to eat so
that I may be released."
"Undoubtedly,"
Spock murmured.
"Good. In that
case...lunch is served," Chapel told them gesturing to their meal on the
table. Spock got up and walked over on his own, but Christine escorted Sarek to
the table, even though he didn't require her help. While the men ate their
lunch Christine worked on lab samples at a nearby counter, in case either of
them should need anything.
Sarek took a taste of
his plomeek soup, then sat back looking pleased. "You must commend your
chef, Spock. The plomeek soup is very well done. Not many Humans can get the
seasoning to Vulcan tastes."
Spock stopped eating his
own soup. "I agree, Father, however, if I am not mistaken, I believe that
this soup was made by Nurse Chapel herself judging from the fresh karrin
seeds."
Sarek looked at the
woman in question. "Indeed." Raising his voice slightly, he said,
"Most impressive, Christine. Where did you learn to make plomeek soup like
this?"
Christine waved off his
compliment and continued with her work. "Oh, well...I've made it so many
times for Spock over the past few years that I was bound to figure it out, with
his help, of course."
Spock grimaced at the
slip up she unknowingly made. He knew how that statement would be interpreted
by Sarek, by any Vulcan, for that matter. An unbonded female on Vulcan would
not serve meals or drinks to a male who was not promised to her, unless he was
a member of her household and it was her task to attend him. It would be
considered scandalous... only concubines with no clan status filled such a role
socially in Vulcan society.
Sarek's eyebrow raised
in surprise, and he gazed at his son intently, but Spock refused to meet his
eyes. "Indeed. The Enterprise crew is certainly fortunate to have
such...individualized...medical care. I remember the first time Spock's mother
made plomeek soup for me... after we were betrothed, of course. It required
quite a bit of... modification." He looked back at the nurse. "I will
ask Amanda to give you her recipe. Although she has an illogical tendency to
change it now and then."
Christine chuckled as
she collected her supplies. She turned around to address the men, totally
oblivious to their tension. "Since you men seem set with your meals I'm
going to the labs for a while. Dr. McCoy should be in shortly, and until then,
the duty nurse will take care of you." Since neither Vulcan seemed to have
any objections, she left with her supplies.
Sarek watched his son as
Spock looked after the young woman. He had been observing their interactions
for a few days now, and he was finally forced to admit that Amanda might be
correct about those two.
After the head nurse
left Sarek resumed eating his lunch while Spock just stared at his. Sarek
noticed his son's contemplative mood so he finished his meal in silence.
Shortly thereafter the duty nurse cleared their lunch trays and ordered them
back to their beds until Dr. McCoy arrived.
Once they were alone and
settled in again, Sarek resumed their conversation. "That was most
satisfactory. It must be gratifying to have homemade plomeek soup when you are
parsecs away from Vulcan. Do you have it often?"
"Not that
often." He didn't suppress his sigh. "Father, I realize that on Vulcan
her behavior would be inappropriate, but I do not want you to misjudge her.
Nurse Chapel goes out of her way to personalize the care of all of her
patients. In my case, that means homemade plomeek soup whenever I have the
misfortune of being confined to sickbay. She is a highly skilled professional,
and, although her insistence on providing unique treatments for each crewmember
may seem illogical, her methods seem to produce the desired results. She is not
a... a…" He searched for a kinder word than what came to mind. He could
not bring himself to say it. The room was heavy with the silence that grew
between father and son.
"El'wak kafeh?"
Sarek’s voice cut through the silence.
Spock’s jaw clamped down
and his eyebrows knitted together in anger. How dare he! Only minutes before he
had been bantering with her. Sarek knew nothing about Nurse Chapel at all. To
call a woman a 'leisure slave', on Vulcan, is a great insult. In polite society
the term is considered profanity. Spock very carefully controlled his facial
expression before he faced his father and responded. "She is not Vulcan,
and is unaware of Vulcan customs. I saw no reason to prohibit her from doing
something she enjoys." He waited to hear his father's reaction.
Sarek considered this
for a moment before responding. He didn't want Spock to overreact to his
criticism...not when they had just begun to communicate again...but that was
generally his son's reaction to his advice. "Spock, you are rationalizing.
It is inappropriate for a woman to serve a man who is not hers. The fact that
she is unaware of that is irrelevant. You are aware of it. When you allow her
to act in this role, you permit her to demean herself. It shows how little
regard you have for her."
Spock’s eyebrows raised
indignantly. He was angry not only at Sarek, but at himself for having thought
the term el'wak
kafeh before Sarek even spoke it. "That is not correct. I happen to
have great respect for Miss Chapel. She is a valued member of this crew...of my
staff, as well as Dr. McCoy's and well liked among the crew. She runs the
nursing staff in a logical and orderly manner. She is a competent and efficient
nurse, although she is much better in the labs. She has a doctorate in
biomedical research and has been invaluable in many of the situations we have
faced on board. She has a keen intellect, and publishes biomedical articles in
her free time. She is actually quite logical most of the time, although she has
moments of irrationality and emotionalism, however, that is a trait of her
species," Spock finished, surprised at how defensive his voice had become.
He looked over to find
Sarek looking at him bemused. Then it dawned on Spock. Vulcans did not pry
openly into personal affairs the way his human crewmates did. Sarek had used a
classic technique of diplomacy to force Spock into talking about his personal
life. Spock cleared his throat softly, "The point is that Miss Chapel
enjoys cooking. It is her hobby, and it pleases her to have someone appreciate
her culinary skills."
Sarek took a deep
breath. "Indeed. I quite agree with your assessment, Spock. A woman like
that deserves a legitimate bonded relationship. Surely there are many men who
would be willing to offer her that. Why do you suppose no one has claimed her
yet?"
Spock started several
times to respond, but nothing came out of his mouth. He wasn't sure how to
answer that question; he wasn't even sure what exactly Sarek meant by the
question. Was he saying that Spock was responsible for no one having made her
such an offer because of what appeared to be a relationship between the two of
them? Or, was he suggesting that Spock should offer her such a relationship?
Fortunately he was saved from answering by his mother's timely entrance into
sickbay.
"How are my two
favorite Vulcans today?" she said, smiling at her son and husband.
"I am well, Mother.
I hope to return to restricted duty this afternoon," Spock replied, eager
to change the topic of conversation.
"Good. I’m glad
it’s ‘restricted duty’ for a while. I know, I know. I worry too much sometimes.
But you’re just like your father when it comes to work… and speaking of the
devil, how are you, Sarek?" Amanda asked, shifting her gaze to the other
bed.
"Much better now
that you are here, Amanda," Sarek told her, warmth lighting his eyes.
Amanda walked over and
extended two fingers to greet her husband. Instead of returning the
two-fingered embrace, Sarek reached out and grasped her hand in both of his and
brought it to his lips. Amanda was startled by her husband's overt actions, and
momentarily lost herself in the depths of his brown eyes until she heard her
son shift restlessly in his bed. She quickly attempted to pull her hand away,
but Sarek gripped it firmly, refusing to release it. Instead he held it beside
him on the bed, his thumb lightly stroking her knuckles. Amanda was unsure of
what to make of her husband’s behavior, but was not about to complain. Instead
she chose to sit in the chair beside his bed and enjoy this affection from him.
Sarek, however, had
other ideas. When Amanda started to slide into the chair he tugged on her hand
to bring her onto the edge of the bed. Once she was sitting beside him, he
continued to hold her hand, gently laying his other hand on her leg to keep her
from leaving. He knew that he had surprised both his wife and son with his
actions, but that didn't deter him. "You are late in visiting me today, my wife,"
he chided her softly.
Amanda looked at Spock
for an explanation for Sarek's odd behavior, but he just raised his eyebrow
questioningly at her. She turned back to her mate and smiled. "I stopped
by earlier, but you were both sleeping. I didn't want to disturb you."
He reached up to stroke
her cheek. "You always disturb me, my wife...but you are never an
intrusion. I have been told that I might be allowed to return to our quarters
today. I am eagerly anticipating it."
"Oh..." she
said breathlessly… the only response she could think of. Her face suddenly felt
hot. What on Earth was in that heart medication that Dr. McCoy had prescribed?
Spock watched his
parents in confusion. Never had they acted this way before, at least not in
front of him. He would have been embarrassed, but they didn’t even seem to be
aware that he was in the same room.
‘I’m not complaining, my
husband, but what are you doing?’ Amanda spoke through their bond.
‘I am giving our son a
lesson, aduna.’
‘A lesson in what?’ She could feel a wave of amusement pass from
him to her.
‘In how one treats a
female one desires.’
Amanda was quite
speechless, 'Oh?'
Christine Chapel breezed
into the room and made some entries on Sarek’s medical PADD.
Sarek raised his
eyebrows, gesturing meaningfully with his eyes in Spock's direction. Amanda
followed the direction of his gaze and saw their son watching the nurse
intently as she updated the records.
‘Oh!’ She looked back to
her husband. ‘I knew I was right about those two. This only confirms it. But it
isn't like you to play matchmaker, Sarek.’
‘I am responsible for my
son's now unbonded
state. I will not fail him again in that regard. He is old enough now to choose his own mate. From
what I have learned
of Miss Chapel during my stay here I believe Spock has made a wise decision.
Now it is time for him to act.’
Just then Dr. McCoy came
into sickbay, but froze by the door at the unexpected scene before him. He
watched the spellbound Ambassador and his wife a moment before realizing that
Spock had noticed his entrance, and the doctor couldn't help but be amused at
the perplexed look on the First Officer's face. He winked at him knowingly then
wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, which got him a questioning raise of the
Vulcan's eyebrow, before clearing his throat to announce his presence. Sarek
removed his hands from his wife, and allowed her to stand. Her cheeks were
flushed. She sat down in the chair beside Sarek’s bed and looked up at Dr.
McCoy expectantly, and he gave her one of his lopsided mischievous grins before
he turned his attention to the two Vulcans.
"Well now. It’s
about time you two sleepy-headed Vulcans got up for the day. I would’ve been in
sooner, but you were both sacked out with your mouths hanging wide open. So I
decided that y’all could just wait for me this time," McCoy told them.
Sarek gave Spock a quizzical look. Spock shrugged his shoulders in response. If
they wanted to be released any time today they would have to endure McCoy’s
litany.
"Let me have a look
at you. I saw your readouts, but I don’t trust these machines to monitor the
temperature of a cup of coffee, let alone your sensitive Vulcan physiology."
"Spock, I'm told
your chem work is normal. I suppose you're eager to get out of here, so you are
now officially released. Restricted duty only, mind. If I catch you putting in
more than half a day I'll put you right back in this bed. Understand?"
"Yes, Doctor. Miss
Chapel was quite exact about the conditions of my release." He got up and
stretched a bit as he waited to hear his father's report.
Christine handed Spock
his uniform so he could change then offered Dr. McCoy Sarek’s updated medical
file.
"Thanks, Christine.
Anything unusual?" he asked as he quickly glanced over the file.
"No, Doctor. The
T-negative production is up two percent, there was no unusual protein syntheses
detected, and the R cells are slightly elevated, however they still fall within
normal parameters."
"Good...you know,
before we release him we really should run a Talwen series."
"I already did,
Doctor. All the K factors are still within normal range, and there have been no
fluctuations within the past 48 hours." She gave Sarek and Amanda a quick
conspiratorial smile and a wink.
"Great, that about
covers it then." He looked up at the couple and smiled. "Well, Romeo,
I see you’re feeling better, too. At least you ate today. Nurse Chapel's soup
does it every time."
Sarek nodded even though
he was uncertain as to the meaning of that particular reference to the
Shakespearean character. "A useful skill for healers, no doubt."
McCoy perused the file
once more. "All right. I'm releasing you to your quarters as well. I want
you to rest as much as possible for the next two days until we get to Babel.
We'll start some moderate exercises... Nurse Chapel will stop by to go over the
regimen with you. If you have any discomfort I want you to notify us
immediately." He signed the PADD, and handed it back to Christine for
filing before turning to leave the room.
"Thank you,
Doctor," Amanda called after him.
He turned around and
smiled at her. "My pleasure, Madam. I'm just glad to finally be getting
these guys out of my sickbay. One Vulcan is bad enough, but two is pushing
it."
Amanda laughed
appreciatively at his joke. She knew only too well how difficult these two
could be... especially when they weren't feeling well, not that either of them
would ever admit it.
McCoy smiled back at her,
then looked to her husband before turning around to leave, shaking his head and
muttering to himself. It was very quiet, but loud enough for the Ambassador and
Spock to make out something about never in a million years expecting to see any
of that Vulcan "mind sex" in his sickbay.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sarek sat on the couch
in his quarters waiting for his wife to join him. They had just finished having
dinner with Spock, Jim Kirk, and Dr. McCoy, and now Amanda was 'walking them to
the door'. Illogical, in his opinion, since the quarters weren't that large and
they were obviously capable of finding the exit by themselves, but she insisted
it was a matter of propriety.
As he listened to his
wife say her good-byes he noticed several discs sitting beside the viewer
located on a table at the end of the couch. Seeing one disc already inserted in
the machine, Sarek pulled the viewer closer on its extendible arm to see what
Amanda had been doing while he had been in sickbay. He activated the viewer and
began reading where his wife left off.
"'Are you sure about this? '
"She melted a
little at his concern, and fell even further under his spell.
"'Because once I lay you
down, I won't stop until I'm deep inside you.'
"This was one
choice she had no doubts about. 'I'm sure,'
she whispered. 'Make
love to me, please.'
"In one swift
movement, he moved between her legs and drove his hard length..."
Sarek looked up as the
viewer was unexpectedly turned off. Amanda sat on the couch, facing him, and
looking slightly embarrassed. He couldn't resist the smile that tugged at the
corner of his mouth. "I was not aware that you perused
such...graphic...reading material, Amanda."
A slight blush crept up
her face. "I don't." When Sarek arched his eyebrow disbelievingly, she
amended her statement. "It's just an old romance novel. I rarely ever read
those." She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder. "I needed something
to keep me distracted while you were recovering," she mumbled against him.
"Indeed," he
teased, "what I just read was certainly 'distracting'."
She laughed then turned
her head so she could see his profile. "I'm so glad you're home."
"As am I, my
wife."
She sat up and looked at
him earnestly. "I don't know what I would do if I had lost you."
Sarek could see the
depth of her emotion as well as feel it through their bond. He changed his
position so he was facing her then caressed her cheek with his fingers.
"Do not worry, Amanda. You will not lose me."
Amanda leaned forward
and kissed him briefly upon the lips. "I almost did. Your heart stopped
for several minutes during that surgery."
Sarek’s fingers stopped
in mid-caress. "I do not remember anything from the surgery..."
"Of course you
don’t, but I’ll never forget it. Those were longest minutes of my life. You
were gone, and all I could do was stand there, and hope..."
Sarek silenced her by
brushing his fingers over her lips. "There is no logic in dwelling on the
past. I am here now." He took her hand and placed it against his side,
where his heart lay. "Feel. Here is proof that I am very much alive."
Amanda could only
slightly feel the soft thrumming of Sarek's heart, so she slipped her hand beneath
his tunic for a better feel. Soon her fingers began to trace the scar left over
from the surgery. "It's so long. Does it still hurt much?"
Sarek pulled the tunic
off over his head so they could view his scar better. "The pain is
manageable, and the greenness will fade over time." He watched Amanda
examine his side intently. "If it disturbs you I can have the scar removed
after it is completely healed."
Amanda glanced up in
surprise. "No, of course not. It's not the scar that disturbs me. It's the
reason for it." She leaned down and planted a soft kiss upon the wound
then laid her face against his side.
Sarek held her close for
a moment then gently laid her back upon the couch. He covered her body with his
then placed feather-light kisses all over her face and neck.
Amanda giggled when he
reached the sensitive area behind her ear. "You're in a mood today."
Sarek looked at his wife
with mock indignation. "I am not. I am merely demonstrating my
point."
This caused Amanda to
break out in a laugh. "Um...yes, I can feel your point quite well."
Sarek shook his head
then resumed speckling kisses down her neck while his hand crept into her outer
gown and worked on pulling the shirt from the waistband of her skirt. "I
was referring to the point I made about being alive and well." Just as he
gained access to her flesh Amanda placed her hand over his to stop him.
"Is this
safe?" she whispered.
Sarek halted his actions
and looked at her with amusement in his eyes. "As safe as it has ever
been, aduna."
Amanda laughed at his
teasing. "You know what I mean. It's only been four days. Did Dr. McCoy
say that this was okay?"
"He said I could
start a moderate exercise regimen."
"But you didn't ask
him if it was okay if we made love?"
He sat up, and pulled
her upright as well. "Amanda, I refuse to seek another's permission to be
intimate with my wife."
She heard the steel
undertones in his voice. He was angry. "Well, if you won't, then I will.
I'm not taking any chances," she sighed woefully. "And since we're on
the subject, I think we should cancel our reservations for next week."
Sarek looked away to
cover his irritation, then turned back to answer his wife in his typical calm,
patient tone. "We always spend a night at the Sanosh Inn when we stay on
Babel, and we have had the arrangements to celebrate our 40th anniversary
planned for thirty six days." He took her hand in both of his. "I see
no reason to change them."
She placed her other
palm against his cheek endearingly. "I know that, Sarek. I just thought it
would be better to stay in one place while we’re there. Between your illness,
the conference, the traveling...the last thing you need is to be moving from
hotel to hotel during the short time we’ll be there."
He shook his head in
disagreement. "My wife, there was a defect in one of the valves in my
heart. A defect that had undoubtedly been there since my birth, but only
recently became a
problem. That defect has been repaired, so there is no reason to be concerned.
Now, " he stood up and held out his paired fingers. "Attend, my
wife."
Amanda did as he
requested. "Where are we going?"
"To our bedroom,
aduna." When she started to protest he pulled her in front of him so she
was entrapped by his arms, with her back tight against his front. "Do not
argue. I will be cautious and if I feel any discomfort at all we can stop. Then
you may cancel our anniversary plans. Agreed?"
She lay her head back
against him. "Agreed, but only if you promise to never hide an illness
from me ever again."
Sarek nuzzled his face
against her neck. "Is this necessary, Amanda?"
"Yes, you bet it's
necessary." The tension she'd been feeling the past few days swelled up
again. "You had no right to keep something like this from me. I deserve to
know when something is wrong, and I don't care if there's nothing I can do
about it, I want to know!" She closed her eyes trying to block out the
sensations Sarek was sending through her body with his nips on her neck and
shoulder. She wouldn't be distracted from this.
"I did not want you
to be worried, or afraid. My reason was logical." He continued to move
them towards the bedroom. "You are very tense now, Amanda. This is why I
did not want to discuss my condition. It has ill effects on
you. Since it is of no importance now, let us put this matter to rest and go to
bed."
"No." Amanda
slipped out of his arms and faced him, arms crossed in determination. "I
am tense because I am angry with you. I need to be able to trust you, Sarek,
and that's difficult to do when you hide things from me. I do trust your word,
however, so until you promise me that you will never again hide something about
yourself from me, then I won't be accompanying you to bed, for any
reason."
Sarek's pose mirrored
his wife's. "That is called blackmail."
Amanda raised an eyebrow
and replied in a deadpan tone, "No, that is called aggressive
negotiation."
"I see." He
looked at his bondmate thoughtfully. "You seem very serious about
this."
"I am."
"Well, it seems you
leave me little choice then." He walked past Amanda into the bedroom,
alone.
Amanda didn't move, not
quite able to believe he had walked away. It was such a small thing she wanted
from him. "Sarek," she turned to follow him into the bedroom, but
stopped short when she saw him leaning against the doorway, watching her
expectedly.
"Conceding your
demands already, t'hy'la?"
"Absolutely
not!" she answered indignantly.
"I see. That is
unfortunate," he
walked up and gently took her hands, unfolding her arms, and wrapped them
around his waist,
"because that means that I will have to submit to your
strictures." He allowed himself a slight smile. "Very well, Amanda.
You have my word."
It took a moment before
Amanda realized that he had given in. She looked up into his smiling eyes, and
had to mentally shake herself, ‘Will I ever get used to this side of him?’ She
reached up to give him a kiss,
then allowed him to take them into the bedroom.
------------------------------
Spock was back on duty.
As he sat in his chair at the science station he couldn’t help but acknowledge
how much he missed being on the bridge...where ‘the action’ was. Since he had
no pressing duties to perform he spun turned and faced the centre of the bridge, slowly taking the time to
observe his
shipmates as they worked. To his left sat Uhura, who, due to the number of
delegates on board, was so busy monitoring all the intership transmissions she
barely had time to acknowledge his return to duty with more than a brief smile.
In front of him and
slightly to the right were Chekov and Sulu, manning their stations as
they discussed their most recent escapades with the fairer sex. Then directly
in front of him sat Captain Kirk...Jim, who was also on restricted duty, and
currently engaging in some mild flirtation with his Yeoman as they went through
the morning reports.
Since there was nothing
on the main view screen worth investigating, Spock turned back to his console
to run a routine scan of the surrounding space. Everything appeared as it
should, and he was about to turn off his scanner when a small object appeared
on the screen. He adjusted his magnification and was confounded to see what
appeared to be a humanoid figure floating in space. He couldn’t increase his
magnification any further, so he had no choice but to wait until the Enterprise
drew nearer.
Spock watched as the
object began to take a more definite shape in his viewer. It was definitely a
humanoid figure, female, to be exact, but he was still unable to make out any
more detail. He waited until it fell within range of the main viewscreen.
"Mr. Chekov, apply
full magnification to the main viewscreen, please," Spock requested brusquely.
The command startled the
navigator, but he quickly recovered and carried out the order. "Aye, sir.
Viewer screen at full magnification."
Spock waited a moment
for the object to appear, but none did. "This is full magnification,
Ensign?"
"Aye, sir. Just as
you ordered."
Spock turned back to his
scanner to ensure that the object was indeed within main viewer range, and it
was. ‘This can not be,’ he thought as he watched the object become larger and
more defined.
"Something out
there, Spock?" The Captain sounded mildly concerned.
Just as he was about to
answer, the object began to turn and Spock could clearly see all its features.
It had long blonde hair, clear blue eyes and a slender frame. It was Nurse
Chapel. She was wearing a long sheer robe similar to what the Adepts on Gol
wear on Vulcan. Spock stared into his viewer, mesmerized by the sight before
him. Slowly she stretched both her arms out toward him, beckoning him. He saw
her mouth move as she spoke to him, but he could make out none of the words
except when his name crossed her lips. "Spock...Spock..."
"Spock?"
The Captain’s voice
brought Spock out of his trance.
"Captain?"
came the First Officer’s puzzled reply.
"Do you have
anything to report?" Jim Kirk watched his friend’s face carefully,
concerned by his unusual behavior.
Spock stole a glance
back at his viewer but the object was gone. "No, sir. Nothing to report at
this time." He thought quickly for an explanation for his illogical
outburst. "With our recent skirmish with the Orions I prefer to maintain a
high level of vigilance."
"Good point,
Spock." Kirk raised his voice to address the whole bridge. "We should
all stay on our toes right now, at least until this mission is over."
Spock swallowed hard as
he felt the eyes of every crewmember on the bridge watching him, but when he
looked up he saw everyone was hard at work manning their own stations.
Quietly he murmured,
"Excuse me, Captain," then he closed the viewscreen down before
getting up to head for the turbolift doors. His seat was immediately taken by
his back-up personnel.
Alone, Spock slumped
against the wall. He lightly banged the back of his head against the wall of
the turbolift. ‘What is happening to me? I am the First Officer of this vessel.
I must maintain control. I am *not* hallucinating. But she's so beautiful... I
am in control! I must find an explanation for this... it is unbearable! Must
control.’ Squaring his shoulders, he stood up straight in the turbolift, then
logically and methodically began an internal bioscan, everything seemed normal.
The turbolift doors opened on his deck and he strode purposefully to his
quarters, away from the prying eyes of the crew.
Once inside he quickly
engaged the privacy lock then restlessly began pacing the length of the room to
release some excess energy. "I am a Vulcan...I am in control of my
emotions..." he muttered as he attempted to regain his focus, "I
am..." He looked at his hands and realized he was rubbing them together
compulsively. "I am...sorry. I *am* sorry..."
************
"I’m in love with
you Mr. Spock."
Spock slowly turned back
to face the Head Nurse. Surely he had not heard her right? There was a tingling
sensation on his hand, but he could not see anything there.
"You. The Human Mr.
Spock."
He watched her approach.
"The Vulcan Mr.
Spock."
He had to stop this
now...it was the virus allowing her to do this, and he knew if they survived
this she would regret her actions. "Nurse, you shouldn’t –“
"Christine, please," she resumed
undeterred, "I see things...how honest you are. I know how you feel. You
hide it, but you *do* have feelings." She grasped his clasped hands
between both of hers. "Oh, how we must hurt you...torture you."
The contact was allowing
her emotions to flow into him, bathing him in her love, and he needed to
separate himself or become lost. "I am in control of my emotions."
She sighed softly.
"Yeah. The others believe that, but I don’t. I don’t know why, but I *do*
love you. Just as you are. Oh, I love you." She softly pressed her lips to
his hand then held them against her face tenderly.
Spock could do nothing
but stare in disbelief. "I’m sorry." He could think of nothing more
appropriate to say. "I *am* sorry."
*******************
"I’m sorry..."
Spock shook his head to bring himself back to the present. This simply would
not do. He went to his closet and got out got out a plain, black Vulcan robe.
He was long overdue for a meditation session.
-------------------------
Two days later Spock was
about to press the buzzer to his parent’s quarters when the door opened as
Sarek was leaving.
"Do you require
something, Spock?"
Spock stepped to the
side out of his father’s path. "No, sir. I just came off duty and thought
I would stop by to see if you required anything."
"I am about to
embark on a walk around this deck as it is part of my exercise regimen
prescribed by Dr. McCoy." He looked at his son assessingly. "Join
me."
Spock quickly caught up
to Sarek, who had left without waiting for Spock’s response. "Are you
experiencing any lasting effects from your surgery?" Spock asked as he
walked beside his father.
"Nothing
unexpected. I still feel muscle twinges from time to time, but they are
controllable. Are you still on restricted duty?" Sarek asked turning
towards his son.
"No. I returned to
full active duty this morning," Spock replied.
"I see." Since
Vulcans aren’t accustomed to small talk, the men continued their walk in
silence. As they approached the observation lounge Spock suggested they tour
it, to which Sarek readily agreed. It was pleasing to see that they had the
room to themselves, since finding privacy was rather difficult with so many
extra people aboard. As father and son stood side-by-side watching the stars
pass by, Sarek attempted to draw Spock into conversation once again. "When
do you go on duty again?"
"I am scheduled to
report to the bridge in 1.26 hours."
"Indeed? Did you
not say that you had just come off duty?" Neither of them took their eyes
off the transparent wall before them.
"Actually, my
regular duty ended 7.74 hours ago. I then worked in the labs for some
time."
Sarek looked at his
child critically. In his opinion Spock looked a little weary, no doubt from
trying to catch up from the time he was confined to sickbay. "Your mother
would say you are working too hard. Do you not require rest?"
"I am finding rest
difficult to achieve lately, and Mother worries too much."
Sarek looked at his son
with amusement in his eyes. "Yes, it is her way."
Spock returned the look.
"You would think her exposure to our people would have helped her overcome
such illogical tendencies."
Sarek’s face became
serious as he resumed his stargazing. "It is not only Human
parents who worry about
their children." He debated with himself for several minutes before
finally giving in to his curiosity. "Spock, are you satisfied with your
position as a scientist in Star Fleet? Do you still believe that it offers more
than a position with the Vulcan Science Academy would have?"
Spock steeled himself
for the same old debate and looked unflinchingly in Sarek’s direction as he
replied. "I am very satisfied with the path I chose. Already during my
time with Star Fleet I have had more experiences...been a part of more
scientific discoveries, than I ever could have if I had stayed on Vulcan. I
have no regrets."
For once it was Sarek
who avoided Spock’s gaze. "Then you are fortunate, my son. In recent
months I have found many things that I regret."
Spock looked sharply at
Sarek. He was quite surprised to hear his father admit to something like that,
and waited in silence in hopes that he would elaborate.
"Is it possible to
have tea here?" Sarek took a seat at the table nearest to them.
Spock was taken aback by
the unexpected request. "Certainly. I’ll get it." He went to the
replicator located in the lounge and ordered two cups of Theris-masu
tea, a Vulcan blend. He handed one mug to Sarek before taking the chair
opposite his father with his own tea.
Sarek sipped cautiously
at the hot liquid and murmured a quiet, "Good," before resuming a
contemplative silence.
After several minutes it
was broken as suddenly as before. "I heard about what occurred at your ku’nat
kali’fee. Your mother and I were off-world at the time, otherwise I would
have been there."
Spock became absorbed in
watching his tea. "As it turns out you didn’t miss anything."
Sarek also kept his eyes
cast down, allowing both of them a semblance of privacy. "The ku’nat
kali’fee is supposed to be a gratifying moment, where you finally become
one with the woman chosen for you. I am uncertain where my logic went wrong,
but it is apparent I failed you in this regard, my son. Forgive me."
Spock looked up at Sarek
in disbelief. There was no logic in Sarek feeling responsible for Spock’s
failed marriage, and yet his voice was filled with obvious regret. "You
could hardly know how a seven year old girl would act as a grown woman. No one
could have predicted T’Pring’s behavior."
Sarek met Spock’s gaze
earnestly. "No, but her actions were deplorable nonetheless. She shamed
her Clan, and
herself. And she insulted you and our House by her actions. You acted
honorably, my son. More so than many would under those circumstances." He
let his eyes wander to the stars once more. "Your mother was against the
bonding. I should have listened to her more closely, but I had...concerns, and
I had wanted to ensure that when the time came you would not be unsettled in
regards to finding a suitable mate. As you know, our biology does not allow for
laxity in this regard, and finding a mate during the fever is not ideal. I
should have learned from my own experiences, however. Skon chose T’Rea for me,
and while she was an adequate mate, it in no way compares to the depth of the
bond I share with your mother...a woman of my own choosing. "
Spock sat in a stunned
silence, unsure of what he should say in response. Never before had Sarek
treated him like this...as an equal...a confidant.
Sarek suppressed a sigh
and turned back to Spock. "That is why I have decided that I will not
choose another mate for you. The choice should be yours, and as long as she
pleases you then I shall accept whomever you choose."
The doors opened as a
small group of delegates entered and took a table at the other end of the
lounge. They were occupied by their own conversation, but the moment was
spoiled for the two Vulcans. "I am to meet your mother for lunch. If I am
late, she will be concerned." He stood as he prepared to leave.
"Perhaps...we can find time for a game of Kal’toh before I return to
Vulcan."
Spock bowed his head
respectfully. "That would be most welcomed. I await your convenience,
Father."
Sarek nodded then left
the lounge without another word.
-------------------------------
...She slowly crawled
over his body until she was straddling his hips, then took him inside her with
one quick thrust.
He grabbed her shoulders
to hold her away from him, but did not move her from his body. For a moment
they stared into each other's eyes. There was confusion in his, uncertainty in
hers, but desire in both. A part of his mind told him to stop this, but his
body did not obey. He was being bombarded by a barrage of physical and
emotional sensations that were unfamiliar to him. He couldn’t sort through
them, and a part of him didn’t want to bother.
Christine smiled
seductively when she saw that he wouldn’t refuse her. She reached up to take
his hands from her shoulders and pinned them to the mattress beside his head.
When she resumed sliding slowly up and down his shaft, Spock closed his eyes
and moaned softly. She laid back down upon him and placed tiny kisses upon his
lips.
"We can
not..." he murmured.
"Shhh...we
can," she chuckled huskily. "We are." She
placed a trail of kisses from his lips across his jaw, and began to suck and
nip his ear while continuing to pump him. "I can make you feel better. Do
you want me to?"
Spock didn’t answer her,
but turned his head to give her better access to the tip of his ear, where he
was most sensitive. He freed his hands and ran them down her length and gripped
her hips to encourage her to move faster and harder. She complied, and sat up
to be able to thrust down on him with force. As his climax was building, he met
her thrusts with his own, and while keeping one hand on her hip to guide her,
he reached up to find her meld points with the other.
He was not prepared for
the intensity of her desire. Now both were breathing hard, and the cabin was
filled with the sounds of their moans and passionate whispers. Their thrusts
became frenzied, animal-like, as instinct led them towards their release. She
was close. He could sense it in her thoughts as well as through the tightening
of her vaginal walls around his penis. When she climaxed it felt as though
static electricity flowed between them. He gripped her hips and thrust into her
hard, lifting them both off the bed. The pressure was building within his shaft
as he prepared to spill his seed within her. His own orgasm was imminent.
"Ah!" Spock
jerked up into a sitting position as he awakened from his dream. It was the
same dream he’d been having for two weeks now, except each time their escapade
goes just a little further, but never to completion. His erection was painfully
hard, throbbing, yet he was surprised a few moments later to realize he had his
hand pressed tightly against it in an attempt to relieve the discomfort. His
breathing was almost back to normal, and next he would have to find some way to
ease his arousal. He had found lately that meditation was impossible to achieve until he can bring himself out of his
fervid state, and he was far from that at this time. As he looked down at his hand grasping his swollen member he was
reminded of the things he’d heard the other male members of the crew discuss,
usually in vulgar and humorous references, and called by many different names.
However, human males do apparently find it an efficient method of easing such
states, but...no, he couldn’t do *that*. With a frustrated sigh Spock threw
back the covers to employ another human method of easing arousal, a cold
shower.
--------------------
Sarek entered his cabin
to see his luggage, along with his wife’s, lined up against a wall by the door
waiting to be beamed down to Babel. Amanda came out of the bedroom appearing
distracted and looked startled when she saw Sarek standing in the room.
"Is everything in
order, my wife?" Sarek asked as he presented his fingers in the
traditional Vulcan embrace.
Amanda brushed her
fingers against his as she answered, "I think so. I’ve been through these
quarters three times and haven’t found anything left behind. Well, if I did
forget something we’ll probably find it on the way back to Vulcan. Spock says
the quarters are being reserved for the diplomats that are already occupying
them, so we’ll be back here on the trip home."
Sarek nodded in
agreement as he was already aware of that fact. "We are scheduled to beam
down in 10.73 minutes. Have you had the opportunity to take your leave of our
son?"
Amanda glanced in the
mirror on the wall to add some finishing touches to her hair. "No...I
thought he would have stopped in to say good-bye by now." She watched her
husband’s reflection in the mirror. "Have you seen Spock lately?"
"No, however, I am
certain he is preoccupied by his duties. No matter. There will be time to visit
before we return to Vulcan." Sarek took a moment to quickly review his
itinerary PADD while he waited for Amanda to finish her primping.
"Hmmmm...I suppose
that’s probably it. He certainly seems distracted...and tired." She placed
her hand on Sarek’s arm to get his attention. "Do you think he’s feeling
all right?"
Sarek closed out his
schedule program and grabbed Amanda’s wrap to assist her in putting it on.
"He has not indicated otherwise."
"True, but he
probably wouldn’t anyway." She turned her back to Sarek so he could place
the wrap around her shoulders. She chuckled as another thought crossed her
mind. "Maybe I should mention our concern to Christine. Then she could stop by his quarters every so often to
check up on him."
Sarek laid the wrap on
his wife’s shoulders then kept his hands there as he talked to her.
"Amanda, I want you to promise not to interfere in this. We may or may not
be correct in our assumptions about Spock’s regard for this woman, but even if
we are correct, it is a private matter and they do not need you interfering."
"I am not
interfering," Amanda objected, "I’m...facilitating."
"Now you are
rationalizing." He smiled slightly as he held out his paired fingers.
"Attend, my wife...our son is capable of handling his own concerns."
The door buzzer sounded,
ending their conversation, as two Enterprise crewmembers arrived to carry their
bags and escort them to the transporter room.
-----------------------------
Spock entered his cabin
wearily. Finally they were at Babel and the delegates would be on the surface
for the next week debating on whether to admit Coridan to the Federation.
During that time there was very little for him to do other than attend a few
receptions as a representative of Star Fleet. Other than that, his normal
duties would be minimal, giving him plenty of free time to rest and reenergize
himself. Eager to relieve his mental weariness first, Spock knelt in front of
his fire pot and began his meditation exercises. The first step was to find
peace within himself. Only when he was relaxed and content could he then
objectively consider his troubles and find a logical solution to resolve them.
He quickly drifted into the other state where he was one with his mind, with
his thoughts, and he finally began to feel centered once again. He was
completely relaxed, floating in another realm. For him this often took the form of Vulcan, and he currently
found himself at the foot of Gol, preparing to watch the adepts perform their
morning rituals.
First they filed out of
the mountain sanctum and formed a semi-circle around a large fire pit in the
clearing. Next the two eldest masters came forth to sprinkle some mah’ta
into the fire causing the flames to leap up and change color as they recited
the prayer to Oekon, the
Vulcan God of spirituality and salvation. Spock looked at them, one by one,
with their eyes closed and heads bowed in concentration. Then one particular
adept caught his eye, and he focused only on her. She was deeply involved in
her chants, head swaying side to side as she pledged herself to her deity. Her
swaying became more exaggerated until finally she threw her head back, lost in
the strength of her faith. Spock’s breath caught in his throat as he saw the
identity of this Gol Adept.
It was impossible! She couldn’t be here...on Vulcan, at
Gol. Her hair, long and blowing free in the wind, was dark, not blonde, but
there was no mistake; it was
Nurse Chapel standing there among the adepts. She was dressed in the long,
sheer gowns customary for the Gol adepts, just as she had appeared in his
viewscreen a few days earlier. Suddenly she stopped her swaying, and opened her
eyes to stare directly in Spock’s direction. Once again she slowly lifted her
arms to beckon him to join her, only this time he could hear her soft melodic
voice whisper his name... "Spock..."
Spock opened his eyes
and fell back onto his posterior dejectedly. Was there nowhere he could escape
his iniquitous thoughts of the head nurse? When would this madness end? Since
meditation was unsuccessful, and sleep no longer appealed to him, Spock decided
to make productive use of his remaining off-duty time and attend to some
projects down in the labs.
It was the middle of the
night cycle on ship, so the corridors were mostly empty, as would the labs be.
Spock often preferred to work at this time, just to avoid the constant chatter
from the other life science department members as they all worked on various
projects.
He entered Lab 4, eager
to focus his mind on something useful, when he noticed Christine Chapel sitting
at one of the tables looking diligently into a microscope. His first instinct
was to leave, but instead he remained to take advantage of a rare opportunity
to observe the nurse alone, and unaware of his presence. She was dressed in the
standard lab overalls, her hair pulled back into a tight bun to keep it from
contaminating any samples. She looked away from the scope briefly to jot a few
notes on her PADD, but otherwise stared constantly into her scope. Spock
noticed the large plant beside her on the table, kept in a sealed glass
container to protect the crew from its harmful effects. She was studying the
Omicron Ceti III spores, looking for a way to benefit from the curative properties of the spores
without suffering from the mind-altering effects. He knew she had been working
diligently on this project, putting in many long hours, including her off duty
hours. Her work ethic and dedication to others was not typical of most of the
humans Spock had served with and he found himself admiring her selflessness.
Spock had known very few
women like her in his life. His mother, of course, was just as giving, but then
any wife of Sarek’s would almost have to be, in his opinion. Then there was
T’Pring, who was willing to forfeit another’s life so she could have what, and
whom, she wanted. And Leila Kalomi, the botanist on Omicron Ceti III who led
him to be infected by the very spores that Christine was studying. He had known
Leila quite well when they worked together on Earth several years ago. He knew
then that she had romantic feelings toward him, and although he did find her to
be quite intelligent and very beautiful, he was not inclined to reciprocate
those feelings, even if he had not been bonded at the time. That was what she
had found unacceptable about him; his Vulcan heritage which would not allow him to love her the
way she wanted him to. So she took him to the spores to change him into the man
she wanted him to be. She didn’t mean him any harm, he knew that, and in all
likelihood she probably thought she was helping him, but it was all due to an
inability to accept him as he was...as Christine did.
He was brought out of
his contemplations when Christine suddenly sat back and with a frustrated sigh
tossed her stylus onto the table. It was then that she looked up and saw him.
"Mr. Spock, is
everything okay?" she asked in her professional tone.
Spock wished he had left
when he had the chance. He was feeling much too unsettled for a late night
encounter with the nurse, but to leave now would be rude. "I am well. You
seem...distraught. Do you require any assistance, Nurse?"
"Oh, no." She
gestured to the plant sitting beside her. "Just another dead end is all,
but there are still plenty of other possibilities to investigate."
Despite his earlier
reluctance, Spock found himself taking the seat opposite Christine at the
table. She passed over her report which he began to peruse. A moment later his
concentration was interrupted by the whine of the small medical tricorder Nurse
Chapel was waving over him. He put down the PADD and looked at her with
suppressed annoyance. "I think you are emulating the good doctor a little
too closely, Miss Chapel."
Christine put the device
down. "Sorry, Mr. Spock. I was just checking. It’s just...you don’t
look...well, like yourself, tonight."
Spock raised an eyebrow
and responded dryly, "Then who would you say I look like, Nurse
Chapel?"
Christine looked at him
uncomprehendingly for a moment then smiled and lowered her eyes as she felt a
blush crawl up her face. She was unaccustomed to his teasing. "I just want
to make sure there are no problems from the Nityapushta… any side effects or anything."
Spock thought about his
recent slumber difficulties, which he would not be sharing with anyone.
"None that are of any consequence."
"During a drug
trial all crewmembers are to immediately report any and all new symptoms to the
medical staff regardless of the duration or innocuousness of such
symptoms." She raised an eyebrow in Spockian fashion. "Star Fleet
protocol."
Spock nodded solemnly.
"Correct, Nurse." He suppressed a sigh. "I have been
experiencing some...disturbances with my sleep."
Christine pulled up a
fresh page on her PADD and began to take notes. "What sort of
disturbances: insomnia, dreams, frequent awakenings?"
"Dreams, "he
answered shortly.
"Okay, and do the
dreams vary or are they recurring?"
"Recurring,"
he said, hoping she wouldn’t ask for any more detail.
"Okay, and what day
did the first dream occur, if you can remember exactly?"
"Of course, it was
the night we departed Vulcan, after my father had his heart attack."
Christine paused in the
middle of writing and look up at the First Officer. "Then you’re saying it
was the night before you received the drug for Sarek’s surgery?"
Spock realized the
significance of this realization. The drug wasn’t causing the dreams to occur,
which means the problem lies with him. "Yes, so it is not of any
consequence to the trial, as I said." He found this to be more disturbing
than the dreams themselves.
Christine deleted the
entries she had just made. "Well, it’s not surprising considering
everything what happened. It’s difficult to finally realize that our parents
are in fact mortal and will someday leave us."
Spock responded with
crisp efficiency. "Nurse Chapel, I am a Vulcan. I have never held any illogical
illusions about my father’s mortality."
He could actually see
her close herself off from him, and he regretted his brusque tone.
"Of course, Mr.
Spock, I apologize. Perhaps it would be best if I retired for the night."
She started to put away her supplies.
"Are you not going
to start the next round of experiments with the spores? I could assist you, if
you like." Spock realized that he didn’t want her to leave, that in the
short while they were talking he had managed to finally begin to relax, and he
didn’t want to lose this peace.
"That’s not
necessary, Commander, these can wait until tomorrow." She grabbed her PADD
and headed for the door.
"Good night, Miss
Chapel." He saw her pause and turn back to look at him. "Sleep
well."
Christine thought she
sensed something in his tone, something she’d never heard before, but dismissed
it. "You too, Mr. Spock. Good night," then she left.
--------------------------
Amanda hummed to herself
as she finished packing their bags to return to the Enterprise for their
departure in the morning. She expected Sarek to arrive any minute then they
would head to the Sanosh Inn for their last night on Babel. The Sanosh Inn was
a tradition of sorts for the two of them. Every time they were sent to Babel
they spent some time there. It was a rustic place, very simple, but appealed to
them because of its rural location and lack of communications.
She heard the door open
and sprang out to greet her husband. "You’re late, but lucky for you I’m
in a good mood and will forgive you now that you’re here to sweep me away to
our rendezvous."
Sarek stepped away from
his desk, where he had been searching through some data discs, to greet his
wife with the ozh’esta and accept a brief kiss upon his lips. "I am most
fortunate to have such an understanding wife." His gaze swept over his
desk once again. "Have you moved the data disc containing the trade
estimates for the various Federation planets?"
Amanda stiffened as she
felt a disappointment coming on. "I don’t think so." She watched her
husband search through his papers for the missing data disc. "Are you
ready to take me to lunch or not?"
Sarek gave his wife an
apologetic look. "No. I must return to the council chambers. The debates
are running longer than we had anticipated. In fact, at this rate, I do not
expect to be able to keep our reservation for tonight."
"Sarek, no..."
Amanda turned away until she could control her initial emotional reaction and
speak in a fairly calm manner. "Sarek, it's our 40th anniversary, and...
it’s been a long time since we’ve done anything special. I was really looking
forward to tonight."
"As was I, Amanda.
If it were my choice I would be with you, but it is not." He took her
hands in his. "I regret having to disappoint you, t’hy’la. I promise that
when we return to Vulcan we will do something ‘special’. Anything you
want."
Amanda took one look
into those smoldering brown eyes and became disgusted with herself. It never
failed, she always forgave him. "Ok, Sarek. I understand all about your
duties, but I hope you don’t mind when I say that I’m glad this will be the
last time I’ll have to worry about it."
"Of course, Amanda,
I understand." He decided that now most certainly was not the best time to
mention that, with his heart condition repaired, he was now reconsidering his
retirement. "Are you sure you did not move my data disc?"
Amanda clasped her hands
together and shrugged noncommittally. "Not that I know of. Unless it got
mixed in with mine." She stepped over to the viewer by the couch to search
through her discs. After a brief search she held one up for him to see. "I
believe this is what you’re looking for."
"That is the
one." Sarek went to take his disc from her, but before he grasped it she
held it out of his reach. He looked at her suspiciously. "May I have my
disc, please."
Amanda raised an eyebrow
at him and answered haughtily, "No."
Sarek didn’t bother to
suppress his sigh, he knew that look. "Amanda, I do not have time for your
games today. I must get back to the debates immediately." He again
attempted to take his disc back, but again she backed away.
This time she couldn’t
hide her grin. "Well, I guess, once again, it’s not your choice, is
it?"
This time Sarek didn’t
bother to ask but again tried to take the disc back from her. Amanda expected
this, and attempted to stay out of his reach, but when Sarek grabbed her arm to
hold her steady she had no choice but to turn her back to him and quickly stuff
the disc into her brassiere. Amanda spun back around and looked at her husband defiantly.
Sarek stopped, stunned,
"Where did you learn an unsophisticated move like that?"
"My mother...and
it’s not unsophisticated," she replied indignantly. She crossed her arms
across her chest. "So, what are you going to do now, Ambassador?"
Sarek considered his
options then came to a decision. "Then you leave me no choice but to force
you to give me the disc."
"Force me?"
Amanda laughed disbelievingly, "using your brute strength?"
Sarek slowly shook his
head and allowed a small smile to touch his lips. "No, Amanda, it will
require very little strength on my part." He began to slowly approach her,
hands held up in front of his chest, trying to get close enough to touch his
wife.
Amanda’s face became
serious. "No...Sarek, no." He kept approaching, undeterred.
"Don’t do it." His only response was a raised eyebrow. Desperate,
Amanda tried to flee only to find that the couch blocked her path, so she
attempted to quickly scramble over it to safety, but Sarek was too quick.
The Ambassador grabbed
his wife and pushed her onto her back on the couch, then he straddled her legs
and began running his fingers quickly over her ribs and sides. Amanda was very
ticklish.
-------------------
Spock rode the lift up
to the tenth floor of the Bakarah Hotel, where his parent’s suite was located.
He found the correct door,
and was about to sound the buzzer when he heard some sort of commotion inside
followed by what was obviously his mother’s scream. Quickly, he entered the
code Amanda had given him earlier and rushed in to see what was the matter. He
was quite surprised to see his father’s profile over the top of the couch.
"Are you going to
give it to me?" Sarek asked his wife for the tenth time.
"No!
Please...stop...I can’t breathe..." He saw Sarek sit back, giving what was
obviously Spock’s mother a rest.
"May I have it now,
Amanda?"
He could hear his mother
panting as she tried to regain her breath. "No."
Sarek shook his head
ruefully. "Then you leave me no choice." He leaned back over her and
Spock could see them moving about as Amanda struggled against her much stronger husband.
"Stop!" she
screamed, but this time Spock could clearly tell that she was laughing as much
as she was screaming.
"I am quite
serious, Amanda, I need it right now."
Spock’s eyebrows spiked
up his forehead. He quickly, and loudly, cleared his throat before the
situation could become any more awkward.
Sarek heard the noise
and quickly leapt off his wife to stand contritely by the couch. He was only
mildly relieved to see that it was his son that had witnessed his less than
dignified behavior.
A moment later, a
red-faced Amanda stood up and began straightening her clothes. "Spock,
what brings you here?"
Spock looked from one
parent to the other slowly. "Am I...interrupting something?"
"She took my data
disc," Sarek
quickly supplied to which Amanda tsked then reached down her blouse to pull out
said data disc.
She slapped it into
Sarek’s awaiting hand and muttered to him, "Spoilsport."
"Thank you,"
was his only response to her, then he went over to his desk to collect a few
more things. "I am now very late for a meeting. Did you need something,
Spock?"
"No," Spock
said slowly as he stared at his parents and wondered if Babel could somehow be
a portal to another dimension, "I was just visiting."
"Well then, since
your father has decided to dump me tonight, how would you like to take your
mother out to dinner?"
"I already have
dinner reservations with Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy, if you would care to join
us. Or I could cancel and make other plans."
Amanda was touched by
the offer. "No, go out with your friends. If I know you, this is probably
the first time you’ve stepped off that ship since we’ve been here...so enjoy
yourself." She saw Sarek heading towards the door. "Wait a minute, buster."
Sarek stepped back to
allow the doors to close and watched as his wife approached. When she did, she captured his eyes
with hers and never left them as she reached into his tunic to pull out his
bank card. Sarek’s face registered no response.
"If you’re not
taking me out, then I’m going shopping."
Sarek watched her a
moment before resigning himself to his fate. He spared a quick, helpless look
to Spock, who was studying this whole scene intently. "Understood, my
wife." He quickly brushed his fingers over her lips then left before she
thought of any other demands.
------------------------
Amanda was sitting alone
at a small sidewalk cafe table, waiting for her lunch to arrive. She was
engaging in a little people watching when a familiar figure came into view.
"Christine!" she called out to the Head Nurse, then beckoned her over
when she had her attention.
It took a few minutes
for Christine Chapel to work her way through the crowd, but finally she managed
to reach the Ambassador’s wife. "Mrs. Sarek, it’s nice to see you again.
Everything going okay for you?"
"Amanda, please.
Everything is fine, too fine, if you ask me. As you can see my husband is once
again locked in some council chamber leaving poor little old me to fend for
myself."
Christine didn’t buy the
wounded look for a second. "Somehow I think you manage just fine on your
own."
Amanda smiled. "I
suppose I do all right...especially since the alternative is to sit and listen
to a bunch of stuffy politicians drone on all day about nothing of any interest
to me." She took a sip of her iced tea. "Hmmm, except for Sarek, of
course."
Christine laughed out
loud. "Oh, of course. That goes without saying."
Amanda smiled at her
companion. "Do you have some free time, Christine?"
"Yes, the rest of
the day, in fact."
"Great! Then you
must stay and have lunch with me, my treat, and afterwards we can do a little
shopping." She raised her hand to flag down a waiter without even waiting
to hear Christine’s acceptance.
------------------------------
‘A little shopping, she
says,’ Christine thought to herself four hours later as she followed Amanda
into yet another one of the little boutiques that the Ambassador’s wife seemed
to be quite fond of. This particular shop seemed to specialize in glasswares,
many of which were very elegant and beautiful. Christine listened to Amanda
converse with the shopkeeper in his native language. On shore leaves she
preferred to leave the translator off so she can experience more of the local
culture, and generally those people who deal with Star Fleet ships visiting on
leave tend to have some grasp of Standard, so it isn’t a problem. While she
listened to the exchange, understanding none of it, she began to explore the
store’s merchandise. Almost immediately she zeroed in on a beautifully-made
crystal blue vase with various intricate designs engraved around the outside.
It was a magnificent piece of work, nothing like she had ever seen before. She
was so wrapped up in looking at the vase that she didn’t realize Amanda had
stopped talking to the shopkeeper until she was standing right next to
Christine and spoke.
"Oh my, that is
beautiful, isn’t it?" Amanda traced some of the designs delicately with
her fingers.
"I wonder if it’s
native?" Christine asked, still holding the vase reverently.
"Let’s ask."
Amanda called the man over and they spoke briefly before she turned back to
Christine. "Yes, it’s native. He says that piece was handmade here on
Babel by an artist that lives several parsecs away. He says it’s an original,
because the artist only uses each mold once then he destroys it so he can never
create the same piece twice." She watched Christine turn the vase over and
over in her hands as she examined each part of the design carefully. It was
obvious that she was in love with the work. "You’re going to buy it,
aren’t you?"
Christine looked at the
bottom for the price - five hundred credits. "Ooh, I don’t think so."
She placed the vase back on its shelf with obvious regret.
Amanda looked at her
with disbelief. "Why not, if you like it so much?"
Christine shook her head
doubtfully. "It costs more than I’m comfortable with spending on a vase.
Besides, it would be so easy for it to be broken on the ship with ion storms
and whatnot."
Amanda looked at her
consideringly. "Ok, if you’re sure." Amanda waited a moment to see if
Christine would change her mind. She could tell she already regretted not
getting this vase, but apparently her decision was firm. She watched Christine consideringly as the
younger woman gave the vase one last lingering look then began to wander back
towards the door to wait for Amanda.
Amanda again addressed
the shopkeeper in his native tongue, who responded by nodding his head eagerly
and smiling, then caught up with Christine to continue their shopping.
----------------
The next couple of hours
were spent window shopping as they made their way through the commerce area of
town, with a final stop at a beauty spa for a little pampering. Christine was
absolutely exhausted, and amazed by the stamina the elder woman still had. It
had been a delightful day, Christine laughed herself silly over the stories
Amanda told about her life on Vulcan, her adventures with Sarek, and Spock’s
childhood; and Christine in turn told Amanda more about her family, and her
career.
"This was a real
treat for me, Christine. I rarely get to indulge in ‘girl talk’ anymore. Thank
you."
"It was my
pleasure, Amanda." She hesitated before asking a question that had been on
her mind for the past few years. "Is it...lonely living on Vulcan?"
Amanda looked surprised.
"Lonely? No, not at all. I have Sarek and our family there, and our
friends we spend time with. Why would you think it’s lonely?"
Christine felt a blush
crawl over her cheeks. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. I guess I just
thought that maybe it was difficult to live among Vulcans because of their
opinion of humans?"
"And what is the
Vulcan opinion of humans, Christine?" Amanda asked.
The women maintained
their walking pace as the discussion continued. "Well...that
we’re...emotional, uncontrolled...child-like, I suppose."
Amanda nodded
thoughtfully. "Uh-hmm. How many Vulcans have you known, Christine?"
"Well, I’ve met a
few. I guess Spock is the only one I’ve had an opportunity to speak with to any
personal degree...and even that isn’t much, of course."
"So Spock told you
that’s what Vulcans think?" She rolled her eyes, "Well, Spock’s full of it. I mean, there
are Vulcans who feel that way, and don’t think their people should have any
dealings with Earth, but they are in the minority. And regardless of how my son
may carry on about the inferiority of humans, he doesn’t mean it. It’s his way
of teasing. He gets it from his father."
"Oh, I never
thought that he was--"
"Don’t worry about
it. You have to remember that Vulcans are not all the same. Just like humans
are very different from each other. Now, Sarek and Spock tend to be more
logical, follow Surak’s teachings more strictly, than some do, but not nearly
as strictly as others. Then there are some that don’t follow it at all, but
that is very rare, and most follow some form of a logical philosophy. There are
even Vulcans who will smile or laugh a little, if they feel it is a logical
response to a given situation. Logic is very much a matter of interpretation,
but because of IDIC,
they will tolerate each other as long as one does not cause harm to another, or incite violence or
something of that nature." They were still traveling along the rows of
stores when Amanda suddenly turned down a little side ally, catching Christine
by surprise. "There’s a little store down here I need to go to."
"I take you’ve been
to Babel before?" She hadn’t even been aware that there were stores down
these little alleys. They certainly weren’t well advertised.
"Oh yes, countless
times for one debate or another. We actually like it here very much. It’s sort
of a...romantic get-a-way for us. Here it is."
The store Amanda had
been seeking was a tiny, obscure
place displaying various ladies lingerie. Christine glanced at the sign on the
door: Kink’s. Christine’s eyebrows raised in surprise but she decided it would
be wiser to say nothing.
Amanda stopped in front
of the window to look over the wares. "Ooh, look at this one." She
looked at the younger woman assessingly. "You should buy this. It would
look great on you."
Christine looked at the
garment in question. It was a lovely black two-piece peignoir set. The gown was
V-necked with spaghetti straps and a lace bodice leading down to an ankle
length full sweep. The matching robe came with sheer sleeves and a lace body.
It was exquisite in its simplicity. "It’s very beautiful, but I don’t
really have cause to wear it."
Amanda gave her a
doubtful look. "Surely there’s someone you can think of you might want to
wear this for?"
Christine’s face took on
a wistful expression, which did not go unnoticed by Amanda. "Hmm. Nobody
who’d appreciate it."
"You never know. He
might surprise you."
Christine blushed
furiously as she realized she’d been thinking of this woman’s son. She smiled
politely. "I suppose it couldn’t hurt to be prepared. Are you going to buy
one?"
Amanda pretended not to
notice her discomfort. "No, but I do need to go in there. I’ve got plenty
of lingerie, but I want to look for a few, uh, accessories." She saw a shocked
expression cross the nurse’s face as she opened the door to allow Amanda to
enter first. "Christine, you don’t stay happily married for forty years
without learning to spice things up now and then."
It took several moments
before Christine remembered to move out of the doorway.
----------------
"Not a bad little
planet, as shore leaves go," Dr. McCoy surmised as he, the Captain, and
the First Officer walked to the Restaurant Bahz for dinner.
"No, not bad, but
it could use a little more exciting night scene. What do you think,
Spock?" Kirk asked behind him, where the Vulcan was trailing his friends.
"I think that the
facilities here are more than adequate, and that you and Dr. McCoy are
insatiable sensualists." Spock’s teasing was rewarded by laughter from
both his companions. He noticed that neither one bothered to deny the
allegation.
They entered the
restaurant and were promptly seated at a table for four in the center of the
room. The dining room was quite full and bustling with activity. The men took
their seats and began perusing the menus.
"Well I dunno, Jim,
but I think the night life is about to get a little more interesting tonight.
Take a look over there."
"What’s
that...oh." Jim’s voice sounded genuinely surprised causing Spock to look
up from his menu to see what had captured their attention.
He had suspected it
would be women, and it was, but not the sort of women that usually caught his
human companions’ eyes. Sitting in a corner booth, across the room from them,
was his mother and Nurse Chapel. They were seated across from each other, but
leaning forward as they spoke, giving an impression that they were trading
confidences. For reasons unknown to him, this made Spock uneasy. Spock’s keen
Vulcan hearing picked up snatches of their conversation. He did not intend to
eavesdrop, but when he heard his own name, he couldn’t help but tune in their
words. The message was somewhat garbled.
"When Spock… in the
yard… buck naked… Sarek trying to catch him… little green tushy… neighbors
were… Sarek tried to… Spock thinking it was a game… got camera…"
"I’d *loved* to
have seen that," Christine said.
"Might just have a
holopic with me…" his mother’s voice.
The ladies leaned back
as they laughed, and Spock’s eyebrow went up as he saw his mother begin
rummaging through her handbag. He had no idea what the word "tushy"
meant, but he had no intention of his mother showing it to Nurse Chapel.
"Perhaps we should join them?" Spock said as he began collecting the
menus.
"Wait a minute,
Spock." Jim said as he wrestled his menu back from the Vulcan’s hands.
"Aren’t you being presumptuous? It looks to me like they’re having a good
time without us. What makes you think they want our company?"
"Yeah, what’s the
matter, Spock? Afraid they’re talking about you?" McCoy provoked.
"Of course not,
Doctor," but Spock realized that was exactly what he was afraid of,
especially since he knew for a fact that they *were* talking about him. "I
just thought it would be inconsiderate not to say hello, since we know they are
here."
"Well, I think it
would be more inconsiderate to interrupt their evening. Besides, this place is
packed and I don’t want to risk losing our table." Jim Kirk was used to
his men following his wishes, and tonight was no exception.
They ordered and passed
the time engaging in some idle chit-chat until the meals arrived, everyone but
Spock, that is. The First Officer remained quiet, except when prompted for a
response, and every time Jim looked his way he found the Vulcan’s attention was
on the ladies’ table. When the meals arrived and Spock was still preoccupied
with the other table, Kirk gave up. "Okay, Spock. We’ll go say hello. A quick
hello. Maybe then you can join us here, in mind as well as body."
"Yes, sir."
Spock had to restrain himself to wait for the Captain to precede him.
Jim Kirk worked his way
through the restaurant with his friends in tow. As he grew closer to the table,
Christine noticed their arrival, more specifically she noticed who was right
behind him, and she didn’t seem particularly pleased to see him.
Jim flashed his most
charming smile and tried not to feel like an ass. "Good evening, Nurse Chapel, Amanda. How nice to see you both here."
He wasn’t succeeding. He felt like an ass. There was no
reason for them to be over here.
"Captain Kirk, Dr.
McCoy...Spock," Amanda nodded a greeting to each of the visitors. "I
hope you are all enjoying your free time on Babel."
"We always enjoy
shore leave, ma’am, no matter where it is." McCoy grinned, laying on the
southern charm. "Of course, it’s always more enjoyable in the presence of
beautiful ladies."
The women smiled
politely at the compliment, then there was an awkward moment when everyone was
silent.
"You appear to have
been successful on your shopping expedition, Mother," Spock said
indicating the bags sitting beside her in the booth.
"Indeed. It’s so
refreshing to finally find someone able to keep up with me when I shop."
She addressed all the humans to explain. "Even Sarek gets impatient after
the first few hours."
"Then you will be
returning to the ship soon?" he asked, a tinge of hopefulness creeping
into his voice.
Amanda raised an eyebrow
at the eagerness in her son’s tone. She considered his words, then responded
slowly and deliberately, using her most engaging smile. "I haven’t decided
yet. Christine and I were considering checking out some of the local drinking
establishments. Is that all right with you, son?"
"Of course,"
Spock said, abased.
"You obviously do not need my approval. I was just unsure whether it
was...safe for you to be walking around planetside at night, unescorted." Amanda noted that he was
shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It stopped almost as soon as it
started, but she knew what it meant. She had learned to read every microtwitch
that both Sarek and Spock made. Sarek clenched his fists lightly when he was
upset or uncomfortable with something. Spock moved his weight from foot to foot
when something was bothering him.
Kirk and McCoy gave
Spock sidelong glances. Babel was one of the safest ports in the Federation,
with the most security. Maybe Spock was just being overprotective of his mother
since the Orion attack on the Enterprise.
"I’m sure we’ll
both be fine, Spock. Unless...you would like to escort us yourself?"
Amanda couldn’t resist at least one attempt to see him and Christine together,
even though she had promised Sarek she wouldn’t push.
Spock glanced over at
the nurse, who was staring into her pasta dinner. "No, I don’t think that
will be necessary."
There was another brief
silence until Amanda decided to take another approach. "I’m sure we could
make room for everyone, if you’d care to join us."
Kirk started to decline
but before he could finish his thought his First Officer spoke over him.
"Yes. That would be most pleasing."
Four pairs of eyes
stared at him in surprise because everyone, except Spock apparently, knew that
it wasn’t really an offer, that
she was just being courteous. "Okay," Amanda said as she slid out of the
booth and began moving all of the packages, while McCoy went over to slide in
on Christine’s side, once she had moved into the middle. Meanwhile Kirk spoke
with a waiter about bringing their meals over to this table and Spock stood
patiently waiting for his mother to arrange her pile of packages next to their
table. She scooted to the center of the booth and Spock took his place next to
her. Kirk plopped down next to McCoy. It was a tight squeeze, and not
particularly comfortable, but it would do.
What Spock hadn’t
considered was that his eyes would be drawn magnetically to the object of his
recent fixation. Spock tried to concentrate on the small talk that Captain Kirk
was making with his mother and Nurse Chapel, but found himself distracted. He
looked down at the tablecloth briefly, then around the room, then back at
Christine who was smiling at Kirk’s words. Spock had never seen her dressed in
anything other than a Star Fleet uniform. Now she wore a deep blue gown that
clung to every curve of her body, and her hair was worn down in a soft style.
Spock looked back around the room, as if searching for the waiter.
"Isn’t that right,
Spock?" the Captain’s voice brought his eyes back to the table. Spock had
been so distracted that he had no idea which of his many "tall tales"
the Captain had been telling the two women.
"Yes, Captain. I
believe that is correct," Spock replied, trying once again to aim his
attention at the conversation. McCoy snorted with derision.
"Well now. I never
thought I’d see the day that you admitted you were wrong, Spock," McCoy
drawled. Wrong? Well that hardly seemed likely. Unfortunately Spock had no clue
about the nature of the discussion. Deciding that any further attempts on his
part would only worsen his situation, he relied on his standard response to Dr.
McCoy’s ribbing. Spock raised one eyebrow with as much dignity as he could
muster. Everyone else at the table burst into laughter, which only made Spock
arch his eyebrow even higher. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that
Christine was holding her sides as she laughed. The peel of her laughter was a
surprisingly pleasant sound to his ears.
The meals were finally
redelivered and everyone resumed eating, giving Spock something besides Nurse
Chapel to focus his attention on.
The meal was finished in
relative silence, then coffee was ordered. The waiter brought Spock a pot of
tea.
"Anyone in the mood
for dessert?" Jim asked as he perused the dessert menu. "Looks like
they’ve got Banana’s Foster, with a touch of Rigellian rum in it."
"I’m game. How
about you, Christine? Want to split something sinful?" Amanda wanted to
bring the younger woman out of her shell a little. She couldn’t help but wonder
exactly what was causing her to be so quiet. She had been absolutely engaging
all afternoon.
"Something sinful…
and chocolate!" Nurse Chapel said decisively.
"That’s what I like
to hear," Amanda responded enthusiastically.
"Let’s see… there’s
white chocolate mousse…" Kirk told them.
"Please, Captain.
Real chocolate. The dark stuff," Christine told him. Amanda nodded in agreement.
"Okay, how about the Triple
Chocolate Torte. It says that it’s a chocolate lover’s dream," Kirk read
from the menu.
"Sounds like it’s
for us then," Amanda said as she looked at Christine to gauge her
preference.
"Sounds
wonderful," Christine said.
"What about you,
Doctor?" Kirk asked.
"I think I’ll try
some of that Rigellian rum thing. Besides, I like it when they set things on
fire right at the table," McCoy said. Kirk motioned for the waiter, who arrived promptly.
"Have you decided
on dessert, sir?" the
waiter asked.
"I think so. We’ll
have a piece of Triple Chocolate Torte with two forks for the ladies, one
Banana’s Foster, and I’ll have the white chocolate mousse. What about you,
Spock?"
"If it is
acceptable, I would like to try a bite of the Triple Chocolate Torte," he
said looking at his mother and Christine for permission.
"Well, I suppose we
could let you have a bite," Amanda teased her son. "What do you
think, Christine?"
"Well, since it’s
just this once. A *small* bite," Christine teased Spock as well, who
simply raised an eyebrow at the two of them.
"Make it three
forks then," Kirk told the waiter who then disappeared to the kitchen.
The entire table watched
the waiter flambé Dr. McCoy’s dessert selection. Spock was always surprised at
how fascinating fire could be, no matter how many times he looked at flames.
Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Christine’s eyes positively
glittered with the reflected light, and her expression was one of child-like
delight.
The waiter placed
McCoy’s dessert in front of him with a flourish. Now everyone was served.
"Will there be
anything else?" the waiter asked.
"Not right
now," Kirk told him, jabbing a spoon into his white chocolate mousse. The
others joined him, except for Spock who waited patiently with his fork. Amanda
and Christine both speared the confection that sat between them on the table.
Spock watched as twin expressions of ecstasy spread across their faces.
"Oh my. That’s
good," Amanda managed finally. "Um, try some. But just a
little," she cautioned, pushing the plate across to her son.
Spock meticulously
sectioned off a sliver of torte, and delicately took a bite. One eyebrow lifted
in approval. It was excellent chocolate. He would have to make sure not to
overindulge, or he would become inebriated for the rest of the evening.
Chocolate had a mildly intoxicating effect on the Vulcan nervous system. "Very good," Spock commented as he
slid the plate back between the two women, his eyes meeting Christine’s
briefly. "How is your dessert, Doctor?" he inquired politely, turning
his attention to
McCoy.
"Not bad. Damn
shame they had to burn off all that fine Rigellian rum, though. Say, I thought
that chocolate would make you drunker than a skunk, Spock."
"A skunk?"
Spock repeated, raising his eyebrow incredulously. Kirk started laughing so
hard he nearly spit out a mouthful of mousse. Amanda and Christine joined in
the laughter.
Spock gave McCoy a
withering look. "Doctor, I fail to see the logic in a Terran omnivore of
the Mustelidae family
consuming ethanol," Spock told him archly. "At any rate, my chocolate
consumption should pose no immediate health risks." The rest of the table
suppressed their laughter.
Amanda licked a shaving
of dark chocolate off of her fork, then smiled softly at her discomfited
son. "I remember the first time
your father had chocolate," Amanda told Spock. "He ate so much of it,
he could hardly stand up without nearly passing out. I couldn’t figure out why
he couldn’t put together a coherent sentence."
"Sarek was
incoherent?" Spock asked her curiously, despite the presence of the
others. Vulcans did not normally gossip, but he had to admit that his father’s
behavior had been somewhat atypical since his heart attack. It was so unlike
him, but Spock was beginning to wonder how much he actually knew about what was
"typical" behavior for Sarek. Especially since they had only begun
speaking openly to one another recently.
"Yes. Didn’t know
which end was up. When he walked right into the wall, I got so scared I called
the Embassy's healer
right away. Sasev wanted to know everything he’d eaten for the entire day. I
started with dinner, which was all I knew about, and when I mentioned the word
‘chocolate’ Sasev came as close to a Vulcan having a fit as I’ve ever seen. I
thought that I would have to rush Sarek to the hospital but Sasev said that it
would wear off in two or three hours. Your poor father ended up sleeping on my
couch and waking up with a horrible ‘chocolate hangover.’ Honestly, he never
said a word to me about chocolate being toxic to his system, and I’d never read
or heard anything like that either," Amanda smiled at the memory.
"Your father learned to limit himself to a very small amount of chocolate
every month or so." The humans at the table laughed at her story.
"Ambassador Sarek
of Vulcan is a ‘chocoholic.’ Who would have ever thought?" Kirk commented
with a smile.
"There’s a lot
about Sarek, about Vulcans…" Amanda looked pointedly at Chapel.
"…that isn’t obvious."
"Vulcans never
cease to amaze me," McCoy said sarcastically.
"Indeed. As well
they should, Doctor," Spock deadpanned.
Amanda’s eyebrows both
lifted in surprise. Was her son developing a sense of humor? Perhaps
rediscovering it. She had forgotten until the moment Spock and Sarek had openly
teased her in sickbay that there had been a time when gathering around the
family dinner table had not been filled with tension between father and son.
"Why you arrogant,
pointy-eared, green-blooded…" McCoy started, then stopped, sputtering into
speechlessness.
Spock leaned back in his
chair and the corner of his mouth twitched up a satisfied fraction or so.
"Gentlemen. Play
nice now," Kirk admonished them. "There are ladies present, and we
should be charming them senseless," Kirk smiled his most boyish, engaging
smile at Chapel and Amanda.
"Uh oh. Listen to
this nonsense," Christine told Amanda.
"Nonsense?"
McCoy jumped in. "I might be a simple country doctor, but know a pretty
woman in a brand new dress when I see one," McCoy drawled, his accent much
stronger than it had been just a minute ago.
Christine blushed
slightly at his comment. "You mean
now that your attention isn’t taken up by Rigellian rum and flaming
bananas," Chapel shot back at him, laughing.
"I am affronted,
Miss Christine, that you are implyin’ that I didn’t notice your new dress and
hairdo right away. In fact, the minute we walked in here my eyes were drawn to
the two loveliest women in the place. I was so dazzled that I had to sit down
for a minute at that other table just to compose myself. Why I
thought that I would have to ask our esteemed Science Officer to check my
vitals with his tricorder," McCoy laid it on.
Christine and Amanda
both laughed at his performance. Spock sighed inwardly. He did not understand
flirting behavior at all. He sat back to watch two experts in action.
"You ladies have
outdone yourselves," Captain Kirk added.
"Why thank you,
Captain," Amanda responded. "We bought some new clothes and went to a
wonderful day spa. Then we decided to get gussied up and paint the town."
"Paint the
town?" Spock asked. Neither of them was dressed appropriately for such a
messy task.
"Get dressed up and
go out and have a good time," his mother clarified.
"Ah." Spock
commented.
"Well we’re
certainly glad you did," McCoy told them. "I do believe that dress
matches your eyes to a tee, Christine."
"Do you like it? We
found it on sale at this bazaar that was tucked back on some side street,"
"It’s gorgeous.
I’ve never seen any material like it," Kirk said seriously.
"It’s handspun here
on Babel," Amanda supplied.
"Whatever it is, it
looks like it’s shimmering like a transporter beam," Kirk said, mesmerized
by the material.
Spock cleared his throat
and started to say something, but thought better of it. He looked up to find
all eyes at the table on him. He looked back at them unblinking. He felt his
mother’s foot connect solidly with his shin under the table. Shocked, he looked
her and she narrowed her eyes at him. It was her "teacher look" that
she gave to students who were lazy or who misbehaved. He cleared his throat
again, and looked at Christine. "I
agree with the Captain’s assessment," he said softly.
"What assessment is
that?" McCoy prodded him mercilessly.
Spock looked at him
mildly. "That it is ‘gorgeous’.
However, I find that I must disagree with your statement, Doctor."
"Oh?"
"Yes. I do not
believe that it quite matches Miss Chapel’s eye coloring." Spock looked
over and noticed that she blushed slightly at his words. Encouraged, he continued
as he looked right at her. "I believe that the cyan component is too
saturated. However, it is an aesthetically pleasing contrast." His eyes
met Christine’s and held for a moment before they both looked away.
"I agree,"
Kirk said quickly to cover the silence that was building.
"Well, I’m glad
that it’s a ‘hit’," Christine told them, her eyes glancing at Spock. Had
he just paid her a compliment? For just a second she had the impression that
the corner of his mouth was raised in a half smile.
"I told you that it
was perfect," Amanda beamed. "And it was practically a steal. Oh,
here’s the waiter with our check," she said reaching across Spock to take
the check from the waiter. She didn’t want Captain Kirk to attempt financial
gallantry as well tonight. To her surprise, Spock deftly blocked her arm and
took the check from the waiter and gave him his credit card.
"Very good,
sir," the waiter said as he left.
"I knew it… that
chocolate is starting to kick in. He’ll be walking into the wall the next thing
you know," McCoy said to no one in particular.
"Not at all,
Doctor. I am simply showing my appreciation for an enjoyable evening. I’d like
to thank each of you for a pleasant dinner."
"My word. Where did
you learn to be so well-mannered?" Amanda asked, her blue eyes dancing
with mischief.
"I am the son of
the Vulcan Ambassador," Spock responded drolly.
Amanda smacked his arm
but then smiled broadly at him. Spock stood and gestured for his mother to exit
the booth. She smoothed out her dress and looked at her pile of packages. "Oh dear. I think that this pile has
grown since we’ve been sitting here," Amanda fretted.
"We can have them
beamed directly to the ship for you, Mother," Spock told her.
"Oh, I hadn’t
thought of that. Well, as long as it isn’t any trouble…"
"It is not. I
assure you," Spock said as he automatically reached for his communicator.
The packages dissolved
into a transporter beam a few moments later. McCoy offered Christine his hand
as she too stood up. Spock swallowed hard. She was even more lovely standing
up. The gown clung to every curve of her body. She smiled at Doctor McCoy and
then brushed a strand of hair back from her face. "Well, gentlemen, thank you for a lovely evening,"
Christine told the three of them.
"It was our pleasure,"
Captain Kirk told her truthfully. It had turned out to be more fun than he had
expected.
"Well, I don’t know
about you, Amanda, but I am beat. One more stop at the bookstore across the
street and I think I’m done for the night," Christine told the older
woman.
"Sounds like a plan
to me," Amanda replied. "Now that I’ve got room to carry a few more
things," she said with a wry smile.
"I think we’re
bein’ dumped," McCoy told Spock sagely.
"It would appear
so, Doctor," Spock replied.
"Enjoy your shore
leave," Amanda told them as she took Christine’s arm and headed toward the
door.
Kirk looked after them
as they sauntered away. "I’ll be right with you gentleman just as soon as
I take a bio-break," Kirk told Spock and McCoy as he looked around for the
restroom.
-----------------------
It was almost morning on
the Enterprise. Alpha shift would be starting, and Spock was due on the bridge
in approximately 20.68 minutes. First he wanted to ensure that his mother had
arrived safely back from Babel, his father too. He was approaching their
quarters when he spotted Sarek at the opposite end of the corridor, coming
towards him. In his hands he held a rather extravagant bouquet of roses and an
expensively wrapped gift. Spock waited beside the door for his father to reach
him.
"Spock." He
greeted his son with a nod of his head, and a bit of obvious impatience.
"Father." He looked pointedly at the flowers Sarek held then raised
his eyebrow inquiringly. His father, however, ignored his silent question and
stared at him impassively. "Ah...I assume those are for Mother."
Sarek looked bored.
"Your deductive reasoning is impeccable, son. If you have business with
me, kindly tell me so. I am just now arriving from Babel, and am quite
fatigued."
"Yes, of course.
Forgive me." He quenched his curiosity about the gifts and focused on his
original purpose for coming here. "I was just checking--"
"Oooh,
flowers!"
Both Vulcans turned to
see Nurse Chapel approaching quickly. "They’re so beautiful. What’s the
occasion?"
For once Spock was
grateful for the human tendency to pry into personal affairs. He waited eagerly
for Sarek’s explanation.
Sarek looked from the
woman to his son and back. His discomfort was palpable. "They are for my
wife. We are commemorating out 40th wedding anniversary today."
"Oh, how
romantic," she crossed her arms and looked from Sarek to Spock yearningly.
That look always made
Spock tense, and this time was no exception. "Perhaps so, Miss Chapel, but
hardly logical," he replied tersely.
He didn’t notice Sarek
tense up beside him. "It is always logical to keep one’s bondmate
satisfied, my son," he said brusquely, then quickly entered his room
before Spock even had a chance to reply.
A feminine giggle made him turn back around. He
scowled and raised his eyebrow sternly at his subordinate. "Are you not on
your way to sickbay for Alpha shift?"
For some reason this
made her laugh more, and Christine just nodded her head as she walked away
leaving Spock to himself in the corridor.
He waited a moment for
her to leave, then he pressed the buzzer and entered his parent's quarters when the
door opened. What he saw then caused him to stop in his tracks, stupefied at
the sight before him. His parents were locked in a passionate embrace, lips
devouring each other, their
bodies pressed together. Amanda had her arms locked around Sarek’s neck, and
was running her fingers through his hair on the back of his neck, while Sarek
had one arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her up to meet his lips, and his
other hand was exploring her...posterior. Never before had he seen his parents
exhibit such passion, the most he ever saw was an occasional kiss his mother
gave Sarek on the lips, and that was usually seen without his parent's knowledge. Coming
to his senses, Spock quickly moved out of the doorway to prevent anyone passing
by from accidentally witnessing his parent's lewd behavior.
He had expected the
sound of the door shutting would alert them to his presence, but obviously they
were too preoccupied with each other to pay attention. Keeping his eyes
downcast, to allow them some privacy, Spock loudly cleared his throat. He
glanced up long enough to see his mother open her eyes and glance in his
direction over his father’s shoulder, then she quickly pushed away from Sarek,
her face turning crimson with embarrassment.
"Spock...uh...we
didn’t hear you come in...." She was trying to stall to give Sarek time to
perfect his control. "I trust you enjoyed your time on Babel? I had a very
nice time last night." She looked over at her mate then down at her
fidgeting hands. "Well, I guess I’d better get these in some
water...excuse me." She grabbed up her bouquet and left the room.
Sarek remained facing
away from Spock for a moment, then turned around and looked at his son evenly,
without a hint of embarrassment. Spock found that he could not return the gaze,
in part because he was somewhat embarrassed about intruding on an intimate
moment between his parents, but also because Sarek lips still wore the bright
red evidence of what had transpired.
"Mother seems
pleased with your flower selection," Spock said noncommittally as he
walked over to the desk near Sarek and grabbed a tissue out of one of its
drawers.
"Indeed."
Sarek automatically took the tissue Spock handed him, but then looked from it
to his son uncomprehendingly...until Spock silently gestured to his lips.
"Thank you, my son." Sarek worked at wiping Amanda’s lipstick from
his face. "It is sometimes difficult to notice if she is wearing this cosmetic."
"Well, it is
certainly noticeable on you." Spock tried not to show his amusement at his
father’s expense, and Sarek only acknowledged the barb with a nod of his head.
"I assume she liked her gift as well?"
Sarek glanced in the
direction his wife went, to make sure she was still out of ear shot, then spoke
to his son quietly. "I have not given her the gift. It is hidden until a
more appropriate moment." He hesitated as he considered how to approach
his son. "I would like to request your assistance on a personal matter...for
your mother."
"Certainly,"
Spock curiosity was piqued, something his father seemed to be doing quite a bit
lately. "What do you require?"
"I would like to
arrange for a special dinner for your mother. Something elaborate, and private,
but...not here." He gestured to standard issue room around them.
"Something larger, and it will need to be decorated to create the
right...atmosphere. Cost is of no concern, of course, if you could arrange for
the things we will need."
Spock nodded
thoughtfully. "Cost is not the issue, availability is. I think I can
manage to arrange something appropriate, however, since it is not Star Fleet
business, I cannot
order the crew to do this for us, so we will have to do the actual labor.
Unless you order your aides to do it."
"No. I wish to do
this personally. Just let me know when you have a room."
Spock acknowledged this,
then turned to leave to report for duty, but his father called him back. "One more thing, Spock. This
dinner is to be a surprise for your mother. I do not want her to know what we
are planning."
"Surprise
her?" His mother would not be the only one surprised by Sarek’s actions.
Vulcans don’t even celebrate such occasions as anniversaries, so obviously this
was all for her benefit, but Spock could not recall his father ever acting
this...impetuous before. He was at a loss to explain the change.
"Yes, surprise her.
Am I not speaking clearly, my son?" Sarek raised an eyebrow displaying a
slightly amused expression. "We will need to find something to occupy your
mother’s time so she does not notice my absence."
"Yes," Spock
nodded absently as he considered this new wrinkle. "I will see what I can
do. I must report for duty now, Father, but I shall contact you at my earliest
opportunity."
"Understood, my
son." He held his hand up in the Vulcan ta’al to bid him good day.
Spock returned the
gesture then went on his way to the bridge.
-------------------
It was midway through
Alpha shift when Spock entered sickbay for his biochem screening. Nurse Chapel
was sitting at a desk watching the door, looking as though she were waiting for
him. He stopped in the doorway and gave her a questioning look.
"There you are. Hop
on up here and we’ll get this done right away."
Spock complied, "I
am not late, Nurse."
"No, I know that. I
was ready to go to lunch a little early today, but wanted to wait to get this
done first." She began running the tests.
"Surely one of the
other nurses could have done this so you could take your break?" He caught
himself staring at her as she worked and forced his eyes to focus elsewhere.
"Yes, I could have,
but I’ve done all of them so far, and I didn’t want to risk the procedure being
altered by someone else." She kept her eyes focused solely on her
instruments.
"Indeed. That seems
logical. In any event, I am fortunate you chose to do so. I wanted to discuss
something with you. A…personal matter." He watched her face
for a reaction.
"Oh...okay."
Christine was careful to keep her face blank as she put her instruments away.
"You’re finished here, Mr. Spock." She remained by his side to assist
him with getting off the bed, if he required it, but as usual he declined her
help.
Spock assumed an ‘at
ease’ posture as he chose his words carefully. "It has become apparent
that you and my mother have become...friends, of sorts."
"And you
disapprove," Christine stated icily as she glared at the First Officer.
Spock started at her
hostile tone. "I did not say that, Nurse. I only bring it up because I want to ask a favor of
you, on behalf of my mother."
She watched his face for
any signs of insincerity, but saw none. "I’m sorry, Mr. Spock," she
said softly, "Of course I’d be happy to help in anyway I can. What do you
need?"
"My father has
decided to arrange for a..." He sought for an alternative word to the one
that came to mind...romantic. "...special dinner for my mother, to
celebrate their anniversary. He wants it to be a surprise, so we need to find
some way to make the preparations without her knowledge. I thought, since you
two seem to enjoy spending time together, that perhaps you could keep her
occupied for us?"
"Aw," she
sighed softly. "I’d love to Mr. Spock. There’s plenty of things for us to
do here. Do you need help with anything else?"
"No. Now I must
meet with the ship’s Chef and Recreation Officer to attempt to persuade them to
be as agreeable as you are."
"Well, that’s easy
enough." Christine waved as a few of her nurses came in from their lunch
breaks.
Spock waited until they
were alone again to continue. "Indeed? How is it ‘easy enough’, Nurse
Chapel?"
"Well, all you need
to do is give them something in return. Barter with them."
"What do I have to
barter with, Nurse, that would interest two human males?"
"Well, if there’s
one thing that everyone on this ship wants, with the exception of you that is,
is more leave time. As first officer you’re in a position to grant that. In
fact, I know that Brian has been trying to get leave for quite some time to go
home for a while and visit his family."
"Asking for leave
of duty to return home is more than asking for an extra day at our next leave
destination. It is not something Star Fleet likes to grant often, and I need to
present an adequate reason for authorizing it." The room was getting
fairly busy with personnel and patients coming in and out, and Spock had to
raise his voice a bit to be heard.
"Know what, it’s
not going to be any noisier in the corridor, and I have to go get my meal card
anyway. So walk with me and we’ll continue this."
Spock motioned for her
to proceed him out of sickbay then walked beside her as they made their way
towards her quarters. "I realize Lt. Sacra has been requesting this for
many weeks now, but it is a large favor to ask for."
"True, but you’re
asking a rather large favor of him, are you not? I mean, isn’t he responsible
for making sure all the real food on the ship is accounted for? So, he’s going to have to
fudge the records a bit as well." Christine stopped and keyed in the code
to her quarters. She got her card and when she turned around to leave again she
was surprised to see that Spock had followed her into the room. He had only
been to her quarters a couple of times in the three years she’d been on board,
for the rare lab report he wanted from her immediately, but never had he crossed
her threshold. He seemed to be lost in
thought, and she wondered if he was even aware he had stepped into her
room. “So...what’s on the menu?”
Spock snapped out of his
silent deliberation. "I do not
know. I am only negotiating his
cooperation. My father will meet with
him to plan the meal. I believe you are
correct in your assessment of Mr. Sacra’s situation. I shall propose this...barter to him. I thank you, Miss Chapel,
you have been most helpful." He bowed slightly to her then turned to go.
"You know,"
Christine said behind his back. "I never realized Vulcans were so
quixotic."
Spock pursed his lips
together thoughtfully, turned back to face the nurse, then quirked both his
eyebrows up in the Vulcan equivalent of a shrug. "Neither did I." He left
then, but not before noticing Christine’s amused smirk.
---------------------
Sarek walked into
Recreation Room 6 where Spock was already hard at work sliding the room divider
in place. He had already moved all of the furniture and equipment into the side
they weren’t using. Spock looked over when he heard the doors open. "Soran
left a box for you. It’s on the table." He came over to help his father
with the rest of the preparations. "Was your meeting with the ship’s chef
productive?"
"Indeed. He was
most helpful. Was it difficult to reserve this room for us?" Sarek asked
as he began looking through the box of items Soran left.
"No, however, I
will need to go planetside when we reach Vulcan to procure a lirpa for
the Recreation Officer." Reaching into the box, he asked, "What is this?"
Spock held up a plastic replica of a male and female in wedding garb.
Sarek finished carefully
unwrapping a set of engraved champagne glasses before he looked at what his son
held. "Ah. That is a decoration that adorns the top of a Terran wedding
cake. Our wedding cake, to be specific."
His mother had told him
stories about their weddings, both the Earth and Vulcan ceremonies, but he had
never seen any of these items before. He took a closer look at the plastic couple.
"This man is Vulcan," Spock said with mild surprise.
"Yes. Your mother
had it specially
made, obviously."
Spock held the figurine
up to show Sarek. "Did you dress like this, in a tuxedo?"
Sarek took the item from
Spock and held it reverently in his hands. "No, I did not. I would have,
if your mother had requested it, out of respect for her Terran customs,
however, she told me to wear whatever I was most comfortable with. You must
concur that this does not seem comfortable."
"Indeed. I find
very little Human clothing appears comfortable, or practical."
"That is what I
wore," Sarek said nodding to a garment bag hang over the back of a chair.
"You have it with
you?" Spock picked up the bag and started to open it before remembering
his manners. "May I?" Sarek gave assent with a nod of his head then
began setting a table for him and his wife while Spock removed the garment from
the bag. It was a traditional ceremonial robe, except Sarek had chosen a deep
mahogany color, and the Clan's glyphs were embroidered down the front and around
each sleeve in gold. It was quite heavy, made out of a plush material
comparable to Terran velvet.
Spock looked over as his
father placed a candle and single rose upon the table. "You are expending
a great deal of effort for this anniversary celebration."
"Yes. I think your
mother will be pleased." Sarek looked at the table critically, then at his
son. "You do not?"
"I’m certain mother
will be very pleased, but I do not understand why you are bothering to do all
this now." Could his mother be of ill health, or perhaps this change has
been brought on by Sarek’s own brush with death?
"It is customary to
do this on or around the date you were wed. I had originally planned to do so
on Babel, but the debates took longer than expected, so there was no
time." Sarek grabbed several discs out of the box and began programming a
selection of music into the Rec. room’s audio system.
"That is not what I
meant. I mean why celebrate your anniversary now? You never have in the past."
"We have celebrated
our anniversary every year we have been married. It is very important to your
mother," he said distractedly as he continued to work on his programming.
Spock shook his head
slightly, although his father did not see it. "I do not recall you ever
celebrating any other year."
Sarek turned around and
quirked an eyebrow at Spock. "Your attendance was not required, my
son." He replaced the music discs in the box and pulled out a bottle of
champagne. "I need some way to chill this."
Spock pulled a chill
bucket from beneath the table. "This was here when I arrived. I assume the
chef left it for you." He activated the device and handed it to Sarek, who
placed it on a second table, which he pulled up next to their dining table,
then put the bottle inside to chill.
The door opened as the
ship’s chef entered carrying a small, round, white cake. He placed it on the
table next to the champagne. "Commander," he nodded a brief greeting
to Spock them addressed his father. "Ambassador, here’s your cake. Just
keep it inside this dome until you’re ready to serve. That will keep the icing
nice and stiff. There’s plenty of room inside for you to put the cake topper on
now for display. Is there anything else you need?"
"No, Lieutenant.
This will be all for now."
"In that case I
will return here at precisely 17:30 with the dinners for you and your
wife." He gave a brief nod to both Vulcans then departed.
Spock prepared to take
his leave as well. "Is there anything else you need for tonight?"
Sarek looked over his
work. "Just the correct lighting. Computer," He raised his voice to
activate the ship’s voice response system. "Reduce lighting by...seventy
five percent." Immediately the lights dimmed drastically, leaving only
slightly more than the emergency lights to illuminate the room. He looked
around the room one more time. "It will suffice."
"Computer,"
Spock spoke up, "projection against the east wall, file named Mount
Seleya."
A moment later the
entire length of the eastern wall was covered by a projection of Mount Seleya
at sunset, with T’Kuht just beneath the mountain’s peak. It was very
picturesque. "Is that better, Father?"
"Much." Sarek
looked pleasingly at his son. "I wonder. Do you have any files of San
Francisco?"
"Certainly.
Computer, change projection along eastern wall to San Francisco, at
night." Mount Seleya disappeared then a vision of the San Francisco Bay
appeared across the wall. The many lights outlining the skyline reflected off
the water’s surface. Spock looked at his father for approval.
"That is much more
appropriate. Thank you, Spock." Sarek didn’t take his eyes off the picture
before him. "Your mother and I have seen this view many times together,
mostly before we were married."
Spock watched Sarek for
several moments, questions burning in his mind to be asked, but he would never dare ask
them. ‘However, if there is any time Sarek might be prone to answer, it would
be now,’ thought Spock. He blurted out his question before he lost his nerve.
"Father, why was mother a logical choice for a wife? Surely there were
plenty of willing females at home. You were already a prominent figure on
Vulcan." He waited to see if Sarek would answer, or rebuke him for
invading his privacy.
Sarek was surprised that
Spock would pursue such
a personal line of discussion. He never
had before, but then perhaps he never had the appropriate opening to do so.
That could only be Sarek’s fault, for such private talks are not only
permitted, but expected between a father and son. He nodded gravely. "Yes,
I am sure there
were, but I was quite serious when I said marrying Amanda seemed the logical
thing to do."
"What made her a
more logical choice than a Vulcan woman?" Spock leaned against a table,
listening with rapt attention.
Sarek hesitated,
considering what and how much he should reveal, then decided that perhaps full
disclosure would be beneficial to his son just now. "You may not agree
with my logic, my father certainly did not, however I think my reasoning has
since been proven sound. Amanda has been an exemplary bondmate. More suited to
me and my lifestyle than perhaps any Vulcan woman could be."
Spock had never known
that there was discord between his mother and Sarek’s family. "Why would
Skon disapprove of Mother?"
"It was nothing
personal." Sarek tried to assuage his son’s indignity. "He had not
even met her. He just wanted me to follow tradition and pick a bride from a
selection of women he had chosen."
"To the benefit of
the Clan,"
Spock surmised and Sarek nodded in agreement. "Then you went against your
father’s wishes when you broke with tradition in order to marry mother or did
he accept your decision once you had insisted on her as your choice?"
"Not exactly. He
refused to come to our kali’i’farr ceremony, and spoke very little to
me, except for business, for approximately 5.7 standard months."
Yet another family
secret! Sarek and Skon had always seemed so close to Spock, he could not
imagine them being so at odds. "What happened to change his mind?" he
asked.
"I am still
uncertain. One day I came home and he was at the house, with your mother, and
they seemed to be having a rather pleasant visit. Everything was fine after
that. In fact, he held her in very high regard."
Sarek looked at his son and raised both his eyebrows in a
helpless gesture. "I do not know who or what precipitated this change, and your mother would
not speak of it."
Spock waited, but Sarek
did not seem inclined to speak further. Risking another admonishment from his
father, he pressed on. "You still have not explained your reasons for
marrying Mother."
"Is it not obvious,
Spock?" How could someone who lived in their house for eighteen years not
see what others saw immediately? Sarek looked at his son quizzically. "Why
do you think I married her?"
Spock’s eyes widened dramatically
and he quickly shook his head. "I would have no way of knowing. Anything I
said would be mere speculation."
"Yes, but I welcome
your speculation." Sarek crossed his hands in front of his waist in
preparation to wait until Spock answered his inquiry.
"Well," Spock
had thought about this many times over the years. "T’Rea was a Kolinahru.
She divorced you to attain her goal of ridding herself of all
emotion. Mother must surely be her opposite. Perhaps that affected
your decision to marry a human. Or perhaps it was because you realized how
beneficial it would be as Vulcan’s Ambassador to Earth, to have a human wife by
your side."
Sarek considered this.
"It is true that I have no concern about Amanda pursuing Kolinahr,"
he had to suppress the smile that came at that thought, "however, since
such a small percentage of Vulcan’s populace ever attempt Kolinahr, then
logically there is no cause to be concerned about a second wife divorcing me
for the same reason. You do, however, have a valid point about Amanda being
beneficial to me as an Ambassador. As a Vulcan it is often difficult to get
members of the more emotional species to trust me, and your mother certainly
has a way of ‘putting them at ease’, as she would say. However, this never
occurred to me before we were married."
Sarek again grew silent,
contemplative, and again Spock had to draw him out. "Why then?"
Sarek steepled his
fingers before him and stared off at the view of the San Francisco Bay. He was
silent for many minutes before he finally took a deep breath and continued his
reminiscing. "Amanda was unlike anyone I have ever known, of any species.
She was a great enigma to me and still is in some respects. She was
my...friend, Spock, nothing more. I had no intention of pursuing her as a bondmate,
for I fully expected that when the time came, I would take another Vulcan wife.
Things between us began to change, however. When or precisely how this happened I am uncertain, but
I began to notice I was greatly distracted by her. More so when she was not
near me than when she was. She was frequently in my thoughts throughout the
day. Where was she, what was she doing...who was she with? She invaded my
thoughts at work, during my meditations," he gave Spock a meaningful
glance, "and even in my sleep."
Spock, who had been
thinking about his own recent distractions, felt the blood rush to his ears and
had to turn away from his father’s penetrating gaze lest his lack of control be
noticed.
Sarek resumed watching
the holovid on the wall to give his son his privacy. "Naturally, I could
not allow this state of affairs to continue, so I decided the logical course of
action would be to make Amanda my wife. This way she would be with me all the
time, if not physically beside me then I would still feel her presence through
the bond, and I would not suffer from these distractions." He turned
around to face Spock, who had his blood flow under control once again.
"Fortunately, she was agreeable, and my supposition proved to be
accurate."
Spock was too lost in his
own thoughts to realize his father had finished and was now watching him
intently. If that was the argument Sarek used with Skon, it was no wonder his
father did not accept Sarek’s reasons. It was as close to an admission of love
as a Vulcan could possibly get with words, and Spock had never imagined Sarek
had such an intensity for his mother. He certainly hid it well, for Spock had
only thought it was Amanda who had such feelings. Spock was brought out of his
musings by his father’s voice repeatedly calling his name.
"Spock, I know you
have a tendency not to heed my advice," he held up a hand to stop his
son’s protest, "however, I strongly suggest that should you meet someone
who has a similar effect on you, that you yield to logic and attempt to remedy
the situation. Even if at first she does not seem like an ideal match."
Spock merely nodded his
head in reply as the appropriate words did not seem forthcoming at the moment.
"Miss Chapel should
have had your mother back to our quarters 5.69 minutes ago, and our dinner is
due to arrive shortly. If you would escort your mother, I would like to use
your quarters to change into my robe."
"Certainly. When
should I have her here?" Spock asked, putting aside his unresolved
thoughts until a more appropriate time.
Sarek considered the
distance from the Rec. room to Spock’s quarters and the time it would take for
him to prepare. "Fifteen standard minutes should suffice."
"Agreed. I shall
return with mother at that time."
-----------------------------
"Mother, you can
slow down, we have plenty of time." ‘More than plenty,’ Spock thought, ‘at
this rate we will arrive 3.2 minutes early.’
"You said he was
already there waiting for me." She stopped and turned towards her son,
clearly agitated. "He did *not* tell me about this reception tonight.
Soran didn’t remind me either. I wouldn’t have forgotten about something like
this, I know I wouldn’t."
Spock was beginning to
regret his ruse of a delegate reception to get his mother formally dressed for
her surprise. "Perhaps he did not plan to attend originally."
"Well, a little
notice would have been nice. Or at the very least he could have waited to
escort me there himself. I hate being late." She smoothed a hand over her
hair and down her dress then resumed her haste towards the Rec. room.
Spock kept his own pace
as slow as possible without causing Amanda to berate him for his dilatory walk,
but still they arrived at the door 1.4 minutes early. There was no stopping her
now, so he could only hope Sarek had overestimated his time.
Amanda entered the room
with Spock so closely on her heels that he almost ran into her when she stopped
suddenly. The room was completely dark now, except for the lights coming from
the San Francisco holovid. Sarek was just lighting the candle on the table, and
he looked up when he heard his wife’s surprised gasp.
"You are
early," he scolded gently.
"I thought I was
late," she stammered. Rooted where she stood, Amanda slowly looked around
and took in her surroundings. Sarek approached and slowly extended his fingers
towards her. Amanda began to respond in kind, but her hand veered off-track to
finger the glyphs on his robe. "Is this the same one? How did you get it
here?" she asked, her voice filled with awe.
"They are all the
very items we used 40 years ago, my wife." He gestured to the table behind
him.
Amanda walked over and
fingered the delicate glasses, then peered into the clear dome over the cake.
When she turned around Spock could see her unshed tears as the candlelight
glistened off their wetness. "I don’t know what to say," she clasped
her hands together helplessly.
Sarek walked over to his
bride and tenderly traced his fingers over her cheekbone, and along her
jawline. "Words are such an imprecise method of conveying thoughts...or
feelings. He leaned down and softly whispered against her ear, "There are
so many other ways to communicate...much more pleasurable methods."
Spock quietly left as
Amanda stepped into Sarek’s arms, engaging the lock as he went.
---------------------------------
It was late into the
ship’s night cycle when Spock finally left his work in the labs to retire for
the evening. He slowly walked along the dimly lit corridors, not eager to
return to his quarters and to more dreams of the ship’s nurse. Looking for a
distraction, he decided to go to the Rec. room and put everything back in it’s
original place now, instead of in the morning as he and Sarek had originally
planned. Surprised to find the privacy lock was still engaged, Spock gave in to
his curiosity and decided to see for himself how their evening was going. It was a breech of privacy, and he knew his
parents wouldn’t approve, but he wouldn’t intrude, nor would he stay long. Spock entered the door leading to the
opposite side of the Rec. room than where his parents were. The lights automatically came on as the
sensors detected his presence, but he ordered them off and moved to the divider
separating him from his parents. Slowly
he drew the divider back just enough for him to see into their side of the
room.
The lights were off, but
the room had a little illumination from the half burnt candle left on the
table, and lights off the San Francisco Bay. There was soft music flooding the
room, and on the opposite side from where he stood, Spock could see his parents
standing together. They were locked in an embrace, and slowly moving in a lazy
circle in what McCoy once told Spock was a ‘lovers’ waltz’. Amanda’s head
rested against Sarek’s shoulder, and his head was bent low to her face, perhaps
talking to her...perhaps something else, Spock could not tell. The song ended
and a new melody from Sarek’s selection began, but his parents never altered
their movements. They were quit oblivious to everything but each other, and
obviously very content just being together.
Spock watched his
parents with awe and more than a little envy. He considered the bond they must
share, and couldn’t help but compare it to the sad imitation he had shared with
T’Pring. ‘Could she and I have ever been as they are?’ he wondered, but quickly
decided that they couldn’t. There had been no warmth between them, no
friendship, even as children. Just a tolerance for the bond they shared due to
their parent's
arrangement. ‘Hardly a thing to build a foundation for a long, mutually satisfying
marriage," he thought, then wondered when such a thing had become
important to him.
He considered his
earlier talks with Sarek, and the fact that he was now in control of his own
state of matrimony. It was up to him to decide what kind of marriage he wanted,
and whom he wanted to be married to. But his career was very important to him
as well. He had no wish to leave Star Fleet, or stop exploring space. And the
two were mutually exclusive, weren’t they? He had known of a few married
couples who served together on starships, so it must be possible, under the
right circumstances, to maintain a marriage while in Star Fleet.
Suddenly desiring
privacy of his own, Spock quietly left his parents to their veneration, and
went to his own quarters. He had much to consider now before he chose yet
another path in his life.
-------------------------
Spock waited in the
shuttle bay with his father as the last of his parent's belongings were loaded. The Captain
and Dr. McCoy would be along shortly for the official farewell, but Spock had
wanted a few last moments with his parents beforehand.
"Perhaps I should
go look for her,"
Sarek said with mild impatience.
"She said she would
meet you here," Spock reminded him as they watched the last few bags
disappear into the shuttlecraft.
"Yes, but she
should have been here 10.4 minutes ago, and--" Sarek’s stopped abruptly as the shuttle bay doors
opened and his wife came through, along with Nurse Chapel. The women were
speaking animatedly and laughed as they approached the men. "You are late,
Amanda," Sarek reproached.
"Am I, Sarek? I’m
so sorry," but her voice and her smile made it obvious she was not,
"but the last time I thought I was late, you said I was early."
Sarek looked to Spock
for help, but his son just looked back at him blankly. Deciding to ignore the
remark, he reached out to take the last of her bags over to the shuttle.
"No, not that one,
Sarek. I still need this one." He relinquished one of the bags to his wife
and took the rest away to be loaded, his son in tow.
"Well, it was very
nice to have met you, Amanda." Christine held out her hand for a shake,
but instead Amanda held it between both of her hands.
"You don’t know how
happy I am to have met you, Christine. I have something for you." She
released the nurse’s hand to take an object out of her remaining bag.
"A gift? That
wasn’t necessary." Christine gasped when Amanda pulled the Babelian vase
out of her bag and handed it to her. She held the delicate crystal reverently
in her hands. "I can’t take this, it’s too much."
"Nonsense, I know
how much you liked it. I want you to have it. Consider it a thank you for
taking such good care of my husband, and my son." She looked beseechingly
into Christine’s eyes. "Spock needs someone to look after him, you know,
and not just when he’s ill."
"I do what I
can..." Christine stammered, at a loss at Amanda’s sudden urgency.
"I know you
do," Amanda smiled to ease the tension she unwittingly caused. "But
I’ve found that a lot of Vulcans, despite how intelligent they are, can’t tell
what’s in their own best interest, even when it’s staring them in the
face."
"I see..." but it was evident by her face that she
did not completely understand Amanda’s meaning.
Amanda had only a few
seconds more before Sarek would be back. "Dealing with a Vulcan is a fine
balancing act. You have to make them see what’s right, but if you’re too
aggressive about it, they’ll balk. Be patient with him, Christine. Don’t push
him, but don’t give up on him. Just be there, all the time, and eventually he
will come to realize his true feelings."
Christine blushed
furiously as understanding dawned. "No, there’s nothing--"
The shuttle bay door
swooshed open and Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy entered. McCoy tugged
uncomfortably at the collar of his dress uniform.
"My wife, attend.
It is time to bid farewell." Once Amanda joined him in the ritual ozh’esta
he saluted Christine with a Vulcan ta’al with the other hand. "Live long
and prosper, Christine."
Still choked up with her
embarrassment, Christine could do nothing but nod as she clutched the vase to
her chest protectively. She wanted to protest, to correct the erroneous
assumptions Amanda made regarding Spock’s feelings for her, but there was no
time. Sarek and Amanda each nodded to her then moved to speak with the Captain
and Dr. McCoy. Spock paused a moment, looking at her questioningly, but then he
too left to perform his duty.
Christine stayed until
everyone cleared the room for the shuttle’s take-off, in hopes of getting just
one more moment alone with Amanda, but it did not happen. Now she sat in her
room, staring at the intricate designs on the vase Amanda had given her,
wondering what she should do next. ‘What if they said something to Spock? He’s
going to blame me for putting that idea in his mother’s head, I just know it.’
She contemplated whether she should mention something to him about it, but
wasn’t sure she could stand that kind of embarrassment again.
She heard the door buzz
and automatically called for them to enter as she stood to smooth out her
uniform. She turned around and her heart plummeted into her stomach when she
saw Spock standing just inside her door. His hands were behind his back in his
typical posture, and his face was as impassive as ever. "Mr. Spock?"
"Miss Chapel,
please forgive the intrusion, but I wished to speak with you regarding my
parents."
‘Oh God, he heard!’ She
quelled her panic and attempted to explain before he could accuse her of any
wrongdoing. "Mr. Spock, your parents are very nice people, but I think
they may have gotten the wrong impression about me...and--"
"My parents were
quite impressed with you, Nurse Chapel. I wanted to give you these." He
pulled a large bouquet of brightly colored flowers from behind his back and offered them
to her.
"Flowers? You got
me flowers?" She took them from him, dumbfounded.
"Yes. I saw that my
mother gave you a vase, it is only logical that you have flowers to put in it.
I also wanted to thank you for all your effort regarding my parents, especially
my mother. She enjoyed her visit, largely due to your company. It was well
beyond the call of duty." He watched her sniff the flowers appreciatively,
and could tell she was pleased by his selection, which gratified him as well.
"I didn’t do it out
of duty, Spock. I like your mother, a lot. Thank you for these, they’re
lovely."
Spock nodded,
acknowledging her gratitude, then cleared his throat apprehensively.
"Then, shall I come back at 1800 hours to escort you to dinner?"
Christine laughed in
surprise. "Now you want to take me to dinner? It’s really not necessary,
you know. The flowers are more than enough of a thank you."
Spock shifted his weight
from one foot to the other, displacing his nervousness. He had expected her to
agree immediately, and he was unsure of how he would proceed if she turned him
down. "Perhaps, but I would like to dine with you regardless, if you are
willing."
Christine watched him
intensely for several moments. She noticed a greenish flush cross his face as
she studied him, and saw him swallow hard, then smiled as understanding struck.
Almost overcome with her elation, she had to force the emotion down lest she
throw her arms around him in joy and send him screaming from the room.
"That sounds very nice, Mr. Spock. I would be honored to dine with you
tonight."
Spock’s relief was
evident as he spoke. "Very good...Christine, then I shall return at 1800
hours." He turned to make a hasty retreat before she could change her
mind.
"Mr. Spock?"
Christine hoped this wouldn’t scare him off, but she just couldn’t resist
teasing him a little. She waited until he faced her again. "Did you just
ask me out on a date?" She hoped her smile would disarm any offense he
might take.
Spock appeared to
consider this for quite some time before he looked at her and raised an eyebrow
sharply. "Yes, I believe I did." He looked at her, amused, then left
her room feeling completely relaxed at last.
THE END