This is the sequel to my story hearts of two worlds, which I recommend you read first. I apologise if my Russian is wrong I used a translator.

The sun is just rising as she wakes huddled close to a soft warm male chest. She doesn't remember falling asleep in the room full of stars but concludes that it is the only logical explanation for the situation she finds herself in. Resting her head against an alien torso she listens to the comforting rhythm of a misplaced heart and formulates the best course of action.

She lingers in his arms until he wakes; content to share his warmth even though it varies with hers by several degrees. It is still painfully early when he wakes barely half an hour later. Closing her eyes so as to appear to be resting she awaits his reaction to their situation.

He wakes to a tight embrace and a head resting on his chest. Blinking the sleep from his eyes he gazes at the girl resting atop of him, from the soft arch of her cheeks to the curve of her ears down to long dark hair that has become tangled during slumber. The pale rays of early morning light illuminate her beauty far better than the dim glow of the phony stars did the night before.

Close up he can see the youth in her sleeping face, which in spite of the smudges of red dust and grime is beautiful. Her eyelids flicker open suddenly surprising him. Breathlessly he stutters "доброе утро… I mean good morning Da" gazing at the girl he had inadvertently spent the night with. Chekov starts to blush for he has never even talked to a girl his age before let alone one this cute, so he's somewhat intimidated.

Sensing his discomfort she untangles his hands from hers and gets off of his warm chest. The redness of his cheeks diminishes slightly but the curious mixture of excitement, happiness and anxiety along with several other emotions she can't quiet place lingers in his readable face.

"Human, social decorum suggests that it is logical to exchange given names and greetings during first the first few minutes of contact with persons unfamiliar. However it has been approximately 5.4 hours since we first met and yet this ritual has not be completed. I apologise. My name is T'qella daughter of the departed Solor of the House of Surak. You are?"

"Ensign Pavel Andreievich Chekov at your service Miss"

His strong accent and calming gentle voice makes her heart flutter strangely. She smiles softly his name suits him. Small yet courageous, his parents named him well. She recalls her father and her smile falters. He would not approve of their meeting like this, without a chaperone.

But he is gone, killed by a falling statue of their ancestors as their world slowly swallowed itself. She must follow her own logic now and carve out her own path. Smoothing down her dirty dress she looks at him somewhat uncertainly not wishing to trouble him further but unable to recall the route she took earlier.

Her heart pounds as she tucks a strand of hair behind an ear and asks him to help her return to her room. "I vould be honoured" he tells her, smiling as he takes her arm in his.

He escorts her back across the vast grounds to her temporary residence. As they near the complex she finds herself inexplicably slowing her pace as if she desires to extend the time spent in his company. If Chekov notices any difference in her he is polite enough not to speak of it.

Outside in the empty corridor beside her room she kisses him on the cheek using her lips, as is human custom. The kiss is short and chaste but still pleasurable. Her ears tingle as she enters the darkened room. Her keen eyes gaze at the sleeping figures huddled close in what was the living room but had been appropriated as sleeping space. Thankfully the others are not up yet having agreed upon waking at the same hour as their host.

Careful to avoid disturbing the slumber of her elder relatives T'qella quietly makes her way across the room to her makeshift couch-bed. Though she has rested sufficiently already to be able to function once under the soft blankets she finds herself drifting off again.