"Buenos días," T'Naisa read laboriously from the padd she had appropriated from Spock. "No prestes atención a las…orejas…puntiagudas…"
Seated beside her in the shuttle bound for Cancun, he raised a brow and translated with some sarcasm, "Pay no attention to the pointed ears? Really, T'Naisa. Do you think you will have occasion to use such an outlandish phrase?"
"One never knows," she stiffly replied. "My motto is 'Be prepared'."
Repressing a sigh, Spock cast an upward glance toward the shuttle's unadorned ceiling. "If I am not mistaken, that motto belongs to Earth's International Scout Movement."
"Don't roll your eyes at me, mister!" She punctuated the remark with a sharp poke of her elbow, the resulting pain of which he declined to acknowledge.
He was a reluctant participant in this endeavor, and it showed. How had a business trip been turned into a "vacation"? Only a brief visit to view the operation of a new Yanashite retreat house in Mexico, advise its administrator, and report his findings to Sorel. There had been no need even to involve T'Naisa until their neighbor, Antonia Kirk, spoke glowingly to her of a certain Mexican resort and simply insisted on caring for their young daughter, Tess. So now, after an overnight stay at the Tampico Retreat, they were on their way to Cancun for a two day visit…and an extravagant waste of money.
Realizing that the uncongenial tone of his remarks had wounded his wife, he looked straight ahead and very quietly told her, "I apologize."
"You should," she retorted. "This vacation is as much for you as it is for me. You've never taken a single one, and I'm not counting the time Captain Pike ordered it, or camping at Yosemite because that's what Jim wanted, or when you took your children on an educational tour of New Zealand. Now, if you don't intend to be amiable…" The words choked off in a manner that meant she was dangerously close to weeping.
Please no, Spock thought. Not here on a public shuttle. He could already envision the sensational news feed: Retired Starfleet captain's wife in tears. Will Cancun save Spock's troubled marriage?
To his relief, the shuttle pilot came over the loudspeaker and announced with a heavy regional accent, "On your left, you weel see the preestine beaches and turquoise waters of our desteenation—'The Gleestining City' of Cancun."
As chance would have it, T'Naisa was seated at a window perfect for viewing, and her excitable nature temporarily swept his lack of enthusiasm from her mind.
"Oh, look!" she said. "Over there. Have you ever seen anything so gorgeous?"
Spock compliantly leaned over and sighted a roughly triangular strip of land bounded by pure white sand and astonishingly blue ocean water. For a desert-bred Vulcan, it did hold a certain appeal…but hardly two days' worth.
oooo
T'Naisa settled into a plush pink sofa in their beachfront hotel room. As Spock stood gazing out a picture window, she bit into a piece of complimentary tropical fruit and read the resort feed on his padd. "Jungle tours, swimming, surfing, and even an underwater museum." Ever hopeful to engage his interest, she asked, "Spock, what would you like to do first? After we eat, that is. How about some swimming? It says here that the beaches are composed of 'microscopic plankton fossils called disco-aster'. It stays cool underfoot, even in the hottest sun. And we don't have to worry about sinking to the bottom here. The saline content of the water will 'support even a Vulcan's dense musculature'. Just think. We might actually float!" As he turned to look at her, she asked, "Have you ever swam in the ocean?"
"The word is 'swum'," he said annoyingly, "and I do recall bobbing about in the cold Pacific waters following a particularly unnerving crash into the San Francisco Bay. And then again, when I rescued young Simon after he…"
"I get the idea," T'Naisa interrupted. "You are in a mood, aren't you? Well I, for one, intend to enjoy myself, even if I have to do it all on my own."
"Vulcans do not…" he began.
"…have moods," she finished for him. "Yes, I've heard that old chestnut before."
His brow lifted. "Chest nut?"
Rising, she tossed him the padd and said, "Look it up."
By a miracle of hybrid dexterity, he made the catch.
oooo
Spock was seated with the padd, fine-tuning his official report on Tampico, when T'Naisa came out of the bathroom wearing a two piece swimsuit in a bold paisley print.
His eyes rose from the small screen and he sat bolt upright. "A bikini."
"Hardly that," she said defensively. Holding out both arms, she performed a little pirouette for his benefit. "Everything's covered…with fabric to spare. Come on, let's hit the beach."
Fully clothed, Spock accompanied her outside and rested on a lounge chair while she went off to enjoy the water. Disturbed by the recent discord in their relationship, he closed his eyes and attempted to settle his mind. A warm breeze stirred the nearby palm trees, and together with the surf, made a sound that was quite relaxing.
When next he opened his eyes, he scanned the beach for T'Naisa and found two handsome young men—apparent locals—speaking intently with her. His tension returned in force, and as a third fellow joined the group, Spock stood. Even from a distance, he could hear her laughing with them. As he watched, one of the men moved unreasonably close to her, and Spock went into action.
Crossing the sand with quick strides, he arrived upon the scene and said, "T'Naisa. Would you care to introduce me to your friends?"
The young men turned as one, and their dark eyes widened to find a stony-faced Vulcan male.
T'Naisa raised a highly arched brow at him. "Why, Spock. What are you doing out here so close to the water? Gentlemen, this is my husband, the Invisible Man."
As her admirers scattered up and down the beach, he said to her, "If you were dressed in a less provocative manner…"
"If you were out here with me where you belong," she retorted.
There was no use continuing the discussion. Spock returned to his chair, stretched out his legs, and worked himself toward a light meditative trance. By his inner timesense, 24.3 minutes passed before a feminine voice roused him.
"Spock…Mr. Spock."
He raised his eyelids. A beautiful, black-haired young lady smiled down at him. Her body was pleasantly curvaceous, and the skin displayed by her bikini was smooth and brown. All this he saw in an instant. Surprised that this stranger would know his name, he swung his legs off the lounge and sat up.
"It's me, Rosa," she said. "Rosa Valdez, your next door neighbor when you lived in Phoenix. I was just a girl."
Spock's memory jogged, bringing a twinge of pain from those dark days following the murder of his wife and daughter. Rosa had grown from a lovely young teen into an extraordinarily attractive adult. She called to a passing vendor, bought two nonalcoholic beverages, and handed him one. Then she pulled up a chair and they shared a pleasant conversation.
No sooner had Rosa left, than T'Naisa appeared, hands on her hips. "Well," she said, "it looks like you're making some friends of your own."
"An old acquaintance," he attempted to explain, but she did not wait to hear it.
"Old?" she huffed, and marched back to the water.
It seemed to Spock that the day could not get much worse. For a time he just sat observing the beachgoers. His eyes were drawn to a tall brown-haired woman of perhaps thirty with a plump, older female of lesser height. Their swimsuits were of a conservative nature and they were strolling along the leading edge of the surf. As they stopped to collect sea shells, Spock noticed a larger than normal wave forming behind them. His eyes went to T'Naisa and found her swimming approximately fourteen meters offshore. She rose up harmlessly as the wave overtook her and moved on. He turned his attention back toward the pair of women, and as he stood up, the rogue wave hit them at waist level, knocked them off their feet, and dragged them out into the ocean. A quick glance at the lifeguard found him conversing with a shapely young tourist.
Spock ran, slipped off his shoes, and splashed into the water until it was deep enough to swim. Though the younger woman seemed to be holding her own, her older companion was having some difficulty. Spock's level of buoyancy surprised him, and it took little effort to reach the struggling swimmer. Coming up from behind, he caught her safely in a rescue hold and swam for shore.
She was sitting on the sand, profusely thanking him, when her companion and T'Naisa made it out of the water. T'Naisa slipped an arm through his and said, "Well, my hero, at least you finally got your feet wet…"
Soaked to the skin, he retrieved his shoes and she accompanied him back to the hotel.
oooo
In a corner of a popular resort dining room, T'Naisa and Spock sat studying the dinner menu while a guitarist roved about singing Latin love songs.
T'Naisa glanced up and saw the two women from the beach approaching their candlelit table. She could not help but sigh. "Oh no, here comes the long and the short of it."
Spock reproached her with a look before rising politely to greet them.
Smiling in a friendly manner, the tall younger one proceeded to thank Spock and say, "Sorry to disturb you, but we never even got your name…and for some reason you look so familiar. I'm Carrie Bronson and this is my mother, Suzette." Turning her smile on T'Naisa, she asked, "Is this lovely lady your wife?"
Spock introduced them, and then, to the chagrin of his "lovely" wife, said, "Would you care to share our table?"
T'Naisa cocked a brow in displeasure, but he failed to notice.
Suzette bubbled with excitement. "Oh, Spock of Starfleet! We wouldn't think of intruding on your romantic dinner."
With a glare at her obtuse bondmate, T'Naisa declared, "Vulcan men aren't romantic."
"Is that so?" Suzette glanced over the crowded dining room. "Well then…in that case…"
T'Naisa's heart sank as the two of them took chairs, but being of an optimistic nature, she decided to make the best of it. The food here was purported to be good, and one never knew—perhaps the Shiav had sent these talkative tourists for some purpose other than to ruin this rare opportunity for a getaway.
"Oh, isn't it fabulous here?" Carrie was saying. "We really needed a change of scene. You see, my dad only recently passed away…"
A waiter interrupted the cheerless remark to ask, "Would you care for any dreenks? Perhaps one of our speecialties…?"
T'Naisa alone chose an alcoholic beverage. A single glass of Casa de Piedra wine with "sexy tones of black fruit", guaranteed to soothe.
After the waiter left, Suzette remarked to Spock, "I'm glad to see that you avoid liquor. Alcohol took my husband's life. Oh, he'd finally stopped drinking, but the damage was already done."
"Most unfortunate," Spock said, fingering his napkin with one hand. "Chemical addiction is indeed a scourge. I know…from personal experience…how very difficult it is to turn from such a habit."
The ladies' lipsticked mouths dropped open, and T'Naisa nearly followed suit.
Suzette stammered, "Surely…surely you don't mean that you…"
"Some years ago—the unfortunate result of medical treatment," Spock replied in an astounding disregard for personal privacy. "Even Vulcans are not exempt…and I am half human, as is my wife."
"Oh my," Carrie sighed. "Well, I guess it just goes to show you. One never knows about people. Take my mother, for instance. She's already seeing another man, but I don't trust him." Turning to Suzette, she earnestly said, "Mom, it's too soon. And he knows that Dad left you some money…"
Their beverages arrived and they ordered their meals.
T'Naisa was ready for a change of subject, but taking a sip of his chilled Altair water, Spock said, "Suzette. Though it is none of my affair, statistics prove that it is wise to proceed slowly after the loss of a spouse."
Now that sounded more like T'Naisa's technical-minded husband. Statistical facts. Just what a bereaved widow wanted to hear. Downing a bit of wine, she entered the conversation. "You must be very lonely, Suzette."
"Indeed," Spock concurred, surprising T'Naisa yet again. "You are fortunate to have such a caring daughter."
Then the strolling guitarist reached their table and sang a stirring ballad of love.
After dinner, they parted company with the two women, and walked out along the beach. A bright moon shone on the restless ocean, and distant music mingled with the steady whisper of the surf.
Reaching for Spock's hand, T'Naisa told him, "Sometimes you astonish me. Bringing up your addiction to complete strangers. What if they go to the press?"
His fingers tightened on hers, and though he did not immediately reply, she could sense no sign of displeasure.
Finally he said, "I do not believe they will. It somehow seemed important to share the information. Perhaps it will help them to know that others have some understanding of their experience."
Her heart warmed toward him and she asked, "How about sharing a little of that understanding with me?"
Stopping, he turned to face her. "Have I been so difficult?"
"Stubborn as a Vulcan mule," she smiled. "I realize that you think every moment should be productive, but I'll have you know that a vacation is an enriching experience. And isn't experience itself a form of education? All this natural beauty alone makes it worthwhile."
His lips stirred and he gently touched her cheek. "Well put, ashayam. And just now I would like very much to enjoy my wife's natural beauty."
"Then go ahead," she challenged. "No one's nearby."
Linking her hands behind his neck, she offered her mouth, and there in the moonlight he kissed her.
oooo
After a complimentary breakfast, Spock informed T'Naisa that the day was entirely hers, but the evening would proceed according to his plan—a plan which he would not divulge no matter how much she questioned him.
"Probably a comprehensive lecture on Aztec history," she said wryly. "Well, hold on to your credits, we're going shopping. Then a quick swim and a jungle boat tour."
Spock made a mental note to pick up some Dramamine. For now, they rode a shuttle bus to the downtown Cancun shopping arcades and browsed the markets where merchants were promoting a vast array of colorful wares. After a great deal of haggling, T'Naisa purchased an assortment of gift items, along with a single pair of earrings for herself. That left only Tess.
"A doll," she decided, and selected one from the many attractive choices in traditional Mexican garb.
"Now for you," she informed him. Playfully setting a broad red and gold sombrero atop his head, she raised the little holocamera hanging from her neck and ordered, "Say 'Olé'!"
Despite his lack of cooperation, she snapped a picture.
In the time that it took him to return the hat to its proper hook, T'Naisa went missing. He found her across the way, lost in deep admiration for an ornately embroidered dress in "just her size", but he reminded her that she had already exceeded their mutually agreed upon budget, and they left for the resort.
After lunch, Spock donned his swimming trunks and joined her at the beach. The sand was indeed soft and cool beneath his bare feet, and the ocean temperature agreeable. Once more he experienced a pleasant buoyancy in the rare turquoise water. Emerging from his swim, he heard sounds of an altercation down the shore and spied last night's dinner companions. The hapless women were being confronted by two couples and appeared ill-at-ease.
Snatches of antagonistic phrases came to him. "…hanging out with those long-eared devils…Vulcan lovers, aren't you…something wrong with your own kind?"
As T'Naisa came up beside him, he told her, "I must attend to this. Please remain here."
He was five paces from the scene when the troublemakers' attention abruptly turned toward him.
One young man bearing an anti-alien CUE tattoo on his muscular upper arm said, "Ooh, look, what do we have here? Our own little Vulcan devil…and a she-devil, too."
Spock was no shorter than the rude character and did not appreciate being called "little". And now he realized that T'Naisa had disregarded his request and followed him, further complicating the situation.
"It would be wise," Spock warned the provocateur, "to leave these two women in peace."
They did indeed leave Carrie and Suzette, but crowded closely around him and T'Naisa.
The tattooed man confronted Spock in a belligerent manner. "It would be wise for you to mind your own damn business and leave our planet!"
"As my wife and I are half human," he retorted logically, "Earth is also our planet."
"Breeds," sneered the aggressor, and reached toward T'Naisa.
Spock shoved his hand aside and warned, "Do not touch her."
The foolish man made another attempt, and Spock seized him in a Vulcan asumi move that hurled his body more than three meters. As he landed on his back, the men's female companions retreated a few steps. The remaining male stood at well over six feet and sneered down upon Spock as they began to circle.
"Come on," he taunted, "you think you're so fricking smart, I'll crack your head like a coconut!"
Abruptly the man swung a fist. Spock dodged, caught hold of his beefy arm, and flipped him into the sand.
"Alright joo—hands up!" someone shouted in an authoritative voice.
A pair of resort security police had arrived, stun guns drawn. Realizing that the order was intended for him, Spock saw no choice but to cooperate.
oooo
So much for the jungle tour. T'Naisa was beginning to think that Vulcans were simply not meant to take vacations. Despite Carrie and Suzette's on-scene testimony, Spock had been taken in his swimming trunks to the local comisaría de policía for three solid hours of interrogation. With the trouble finally sorted out, they returned to the resort and had barely exited their roomy shower when his padd pinged.
With a towel tucked at his waist, he checked the message and said, "My name has been placed among those retirees who will be invited to the launching of the Enterprise B."
Wrapped in a thick hotel robe, T'Naisa proceeded to comb out her wavy red hair. "That's still a long ways off. Are you going? I bet Jim will be there."
"I prefer not to engage in media events," he replied. "Besides, I would have to purchase a uniform. I donated mine to an officer who lost everything in the San Francisco quake."
There was a knock on the door.
"I'll get it," T'Naisa said. She engaged the hall viewer and spoke into the little intercom. "Yes? Who's there?"
A young man in hotel livery displayed an employee I.D. and replied, "I have a delivery for…T'Naisa S..c..h..n T..g..a..i."
Adjusting her robe more securely, she opened the door, and he handed her a large flat gift box. Vulcan terrorists and CUE thugs were having their effect on her nerves, and she found herself wondering if it contained a bomb.
Gingerly holding it away from her body, she closed the door and faced her husband. "Spock…what if…"
His eyebrow rose and his mouth stirred with contained amusement. "Shall I open it for you?"
She almost accepted the offer, but that would put him in danger. Feeling as if her life might end at any instant, she undid an outer ribbon and slowly removed the lid. Nestled in tissue paper was the handcrafted dress she had admired that morning in the village. For one confused moment she could not imagine who might have sent such a thoughtful gift. Then she turned and looked at Spock.
His eyes smiled at her. "It would seem that you have an admirer."
"Oh, you!" she said. Rushing over, she plopped onto his towel-clad lap, ran her fingers through his chest hair, and delivered a heartfelt kiss. "Arranged it on your trusty padd, didn't you?"
"Put the dress on," he urged. "It is time for my plans."
She loosed a sigh. "You mean, time for some Aztec history."
oooo
Knowing how T'Naisa liked surprises, Spock made her wait until their air cab landed at sundown in a nearby village.
"A fiesta!" she exclaimed with shining eyes. The skirt of her embroidered dress swayed as she alit from the cab. Its green color and classic peasant style suited her and went well with the tan pants and patterned crimson shirt he had chosen for himself.
The center of town was completely given over to the local celebration. Color, movement, and song emanated from all directions—the antithesis of both planet Vulcan and Plum Creek, where order and quietude were the norm. But his fun-loving wife was clearly in her element.
It pleased him to watch T'Naisa's reactions as she moved among the diverse booths, Mariachi bands, and rain of confetti eggs tossed by excited children. They stopped to purchase food from a vendor and sat at an outdoor table near an impromptu stage. Darkness had descended, and an array of traditional lanterns cast light over a troupe of lovely Mexican dancers in swirling skirts.
Spock was halfway through his meatless nachos when one of the energetic performers twirled her way over and danced for him with dark, sultry eyes.
T'Naisa smiled as she leaned over and picked a stray piece of confetti from his hair. "Maybe now's the time to say it. No prestes atención a las orejas puntiagudas." And she set her seal upon one ear tip with a light kiss.
The seductive young dancer moved elsewhere.
"Ah, yes," he recalled, dipping the last of his nachos in some guacamole. "The pointed orejas. But please refrain from such overt displays of affection in public."
"Alright," she conceded with a minor pout, "but if you don't want to be kissed, you shouldn't do such sweet things. This dress…and a fiesta! I would never have guessed."
Gazing into her warm brown eyes, he gave her hand a meaningful caress, accompanied by a 'later for you' look that she understood well. Perhaps it was the enriching effect of vacations, but he decided then and there to make time for that jungle tour before leaving tomorrow.
oooOOooo