Kirk and Spock were in the Captain's quarters ostensibly to discuss crew assignments but it was also an opportunity to continue bonding after their brief first voyage together as Captain and First Officer. The re-outfitted Enterprise had taken a quick cruise around the quadrant to test the latest upgrades and was now back in space dock awaiting new orders. There was a rumor that Starfleet's humanitarian and peacekeeping initiative was being expanded to include active exploration and the new starships would be given three year missions in deep space. Meanwhile, Kirk and Spock had achieved a working relationship and they were becoming friends as well.
"I received an unsettling communication from my father," Spock said.
"I'm going to need a toke before I hear about your family problems." At Spock's look Kirk went on. "Don't be offended. I need a toke before dealing with my family, too."
Kirk expertly rolled a joint, lit up, inhaled and held it for a moment. He offered it to Spock.
Spock regarded it with distaste. "That is unsanitary."
Kirk shrugged. "Roll your own."
Spock took the joint and puffed.
"Have you tried weed before?" Kirk asked.
"Yes, but I did not inhale."
"Earth history is familiar with that excuse. But in your case it's probably true."
"Won't this impair your judgment as Captain?"
"The trick is to build up a tolerance."
Spock gave Kirk another of his looks so Kirk admitted, "I never smoke while in command even when I'm off duty. But we're docked and not officially in charge of the ship. So relax and tell me about Sarek."
Spock immediately tensed up. "He informs me I am to have a half-sibling in seven months."
Kirk was obviously startled. "I can tell you're upset because you said seven months. I can't believe it's exactly seven months."
"I was rounding because I have noticed your disdain for precise information. It is actually 6.8 months."
"Gotta admire a guy that dedicated to increasing the Vulcan population," Kirk marveled. "Do you know your new step-mother?"
"They are not bonded yet."
"Premarital sex at your father's age! Who is this hussy?"
Spock hesitated. "She has an unfortunate name."
"What is it? Wait, I can read your mind." Kirk reached out and placed his fingertips on Spock's face in an approximation of the mind meld. He closed his eyes. "I see a T and a P." He opened his eyes. "How am I doing?"
Spock slapped his hand away. "Not all Vulcan female names begin with T and P."
"But a very healthy percentage does. And even more did until contact with Earth when Vulcans learned colloquial English and discovered that 'TP' is short for toilet paper. After that more Vulcan girls were named differently."
Spock looked intrigued. "I was not aware ..." He stopped when Kirk, feeling the effects of several hits of good shit, began giggling. "It is not true?"
"Not to my knowledge."
"It sounded plausible," Spock said. "I know that I do not always understand the human sense of humor."
"Are you a little gullible or is the pot affecting you?"
"You have no respect for Vulcan customs."
"Nothing personal. I have no respect for Earth customs either. Come on, what's your father's fiancée's name?"
Spock squeezed it out reluctantly. "T'Porn."
Kirk choked on an inhale of smoke. His watering eyes widened and his mouth gaped. "I ... I have no words."
"I am grateful."
"What were her parents thinking? Of course they weren't aware of the connotation in Standard English. It's like a Vulcan stripper name. Are there any others? What about T'Pussy? Are there Vulcan strippers?"
"You said you had no words. Why is noise emitting from your mouth?"
"I recovered my power of speech. Do you know anything about this woman?"
"She is an artist and, like many artists of any species, has little control of her emotions."
"Free-spirited," Kirk put in.
"It is not her fault," Spock admitted grudgingly. "She has a stripped chromosome."
"Huh?"
"There are varying degrees of control among Vulcans. My father's is less than average as evidenced by his marriage to a human. Those with a stripped chromosome are missing the gene that controls emotion. It is rare, approximately one in one million."
"With only about 10,000 Vulcans left, she is very likely the only one with a stripped chromosome. I'm surprised they didn't stop her from having children in order to lose such an undesirable trait."
"It is not hereditary; it occurs randomly."
"I realize this is painful for you," Kirk said. "Your mother's death is still very recent. But the Vulcan Elders are serious about matching everyone up. Having married and lived with a human for so many years, your father would find it difficult to adapt to the usual Vulcan woman. And most Vulcan men wouldn't care for porn. I mean T'Porn. Slip of the tongue."
"I know what you meant and it was not a slip of your tongue."
"You're learning," Kirk said, not at all embarrassed. "Still, it might be a good match for both of them."
"I am certain they were matched for that reason. Those with a stripped chromosome often do not marry. My father, while a respected Elder in spite of his human wife, would not be sought after as a bond-mate."
"Plus he's getting up there."
"Sarek is 93, which is barely middle-aged in a Vulcan life span."
"How old is ...? You know, I'm going to have trouble saying that name without laughing."
"Perhaps you will be able to refrain when you are not stoned," Spock said coldly. Then he unbent. "She and my father are aware of the problem with her name. She has lived on Earth for some years. Sarek informs me that she is called Tippy."
"Not your average dignified Vulcan name. How old is she?"
"38."
"Only 12 years older than you? 55 years younger than your father?"
"Are you asking me to confirm your complicated mathematical calculations?"
"No, I'm in awe. Sarek managed to meet and impregnate this woman in a few months."
"My father was grieving," Spock said sharply. "I speculate that Tippy took advantage of the situation."
"Hold on, you don't know about her situation. Maybe they comforted each other."
Spock glared at Kirk.
"You're seething," Kirk said with satisfaction. "And I'm being reasonable. And since you can't win this round I bet you'll change the subject."
Spock drew himself up. "We actually have work to accomplish." Inside he was still seething because his Captain - a human - could already read him so well.
"Oh, yeah, the crew assignments. That's really a First Officer administrative thing."
"Despite your feigned indifference I am aware that you know the name and face of every crew member, their rank and basic qualifications and at least one item of personal information about each."
Kirk was suddenly serious. "I may be flippant but I know my duty as Captain and I don't take the responsibility lightly. I don't expect my command style to be universally liked or understood by you or Starfleet but it will either serve me well or take me down. Probably both. But I trust your judgment regarding crew assignments. Just give me a good-looking yeoman."
"I believe Ensign Jack Fielding is considered attractive."
"A good-looking, female yeoman," Kirk corrected.
"Ah. Helen Matthews is ..."
"Very attractive," Kirk interrupted. "But she came to Starfleet late. She looks a lot like my mother and is about the same age. Let me rephrase. Young, good-looking female yeoman."
"In that case, Rita Campbell should fulfill your requirements."
Kirk stared at Spock. "Young. Good-looking. Female. Straight."
"Janice Rand," Spock said flatly.
Kirk's memory brought him the image of a pretty blond with an unusual woven hairstyle. He smiled. "That's what I'm talking about."
The door chimed. "McCoy," the intercom announced.
"Bones," Kirk greeted his Chief Medical Officer. "Help yourself." He indicated his kit on the bed beside him.
"Don't mind if I do," Bones replied.
"You condone this behavior?" Spock asked.
"I'm a doctor not the drug police."
"I thought that as a doctor you would not approve."
"It's medicinal."
"Spock's going to be a big brother," Kirk offered.
"It's a fine program," McCoy said. "And there are a lot of Vulcan orphans now. But will you be around enough to participate?"
Kirk laughed. "Not the 'Big Brothers Big Sisters', a real big brother. Sarek knocked up a Vulcan artist."
"Oh, yes, that would be Tippy."
"How do you know about it?" Spock demanded.
"I'm human but I'm a man of science. The Vulcan Elders lost a lot of expertise so I offered to help with their genetic matching database. They love me." McCoy was smug.
Spock ground his teeth audibly. "You knew my father had been matched and you did not tell me."
"Doctor-patient confidentiality. I figured Sarek would tell you himself eventually. I know this is tough for you." McCoy spoke sincerely. "I thought it was a good match and apparently they do, too. Not that filthy lucre matters to a Vulcan but your father is marrying a wealthy woman."
"I thought artists were poor and starved in attics," Kirk said.
"Not Tippy. By the way, do you know her real name?" McCoy asked.
"It has been discussed with great amusement," Spock broke in. "We need not mention it again."
McCoy shrugged. "It's only funny the first time anyway. So, Tippy isn't just any artist. She designs clothes."
"Did you know this?" Kirk asked Spock.
"Yes, but I do not follow fashion," Spock replied. "I was unaware of the implications."
McCoy was eyeing Kirk. "You like that shirt?"
Kirk looked down at himself. "Love it. It's my favorite. I've worn out two like it."
"Tippy designed it." McCoy nodded at the small stylized H emblem over Kirk's left breast. "She sells under her own label: Hephaestus."
"The Greek god of craftsmen and artisans, among other things. And his Roman counterpart is named Vulcan," Kirk said. "Nice."
"In his communication video my father was wearing an outfit I had not seen before," Spock said thoughtfully. "It suited him. I told him he was looking well and he turned green."
"Which means he blushed," McCoy said. "When are you meeting Tippy?"
"I am having dinner with her and my father tomorrow night." Spock sounded resigned.
"You know more about her now," Kirk said. "You can ask about her work. Family should get stuff free or at least at cost. Just remember, your Captain can always use another one of these shirts."