The Dilemma
Spock exits his small apartment office and enters the simply furnished living area. There are two Vulcan-style chairs and a small black sofa. All arranged in a semicircle with a round ebony table in the center. As he sits in a chair, he commands the lights to dim. He places his padd on the clutter-free table. It has been thirty days and twelve hours since the V'Ger incident. As an admiral, Jim Kirk is keeping busy with official business and cadet training. McCoy, with some convincing from Jim, has accepted a position at Star Fleet Medical Center. Long ago, Spock had taught at the Academy and found it gratifying, and now—with some similar persuasion from Jim, he has returned to a position there.
He believes that his recent meld with V'Ger was beneficial. He has come to see the value of emotions, properly used, though he certainly did not wish to display them as freely as a human. And therein lay a problem, for as of late, his control has waned. And it was not just his control that was under siege, but any attempt to meditate has failed him. To make matters worse, earlier today he received a subspace message from his father. Sarek stated his disappointment that Spock would not be returning to Vulcan any time soon. He made it clear that he wished Spock to leave Star Fleet to join the Vulcan diplomatic corps. Sarek even used guilt to get Spock to reconsider. He stated that Amanda missed him dearly and wanted Spock to return home. Spock knew that was not the whole truth for he had received a message from his mother 27.8 hours before receiving his father's message. She did say she missed him, but she made sure he knew how proud she was of him, and that Star Fleet was his best destiny.
Spock was relieved that his father could not see his anger over the cold negative words. He finishes his Altair water, and decides to prepare himself for sleep. Lying down on his bed, his last thought is a hope that the upcoming days will be without incident.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
As each day passes, Spock's emotions seemed to surface more easily. Now he has been seen with a full-fledged human smile. One day in his Quantum Physics class, he actually laughed out loud at a cadet's crude joke. A joke he normally would not even raise an eyebrow to. It was not just the positive emotions that would surface. Anger came to him much too easily. Anger was not just a human emotion but a Vulcan emotion. An emotion he had struggled with since he was a child.
Rumors of his unusual behavior spread throughout the campus, like a ship entering warp factor five. This day his acute Vulcan ears overhear two cadets joking about his lack of control. A short time later, Spock meets his friend at the quad.
Jim Kirk walks up to him. He too has been overhearing the negative words about Spock. To ease his friend's concern he says, "Hey Spock, don't mind them. It is just words. It is not uncommon for cadets to joke about their instructors. Hey, you should hear what they say about me. Quite a womanizer, so I have heard." Jim pats his friend on the back. "Come, let's head to the officers' mess.
They meet Dr. McCoy and then sit at an oval table. They converse about their day. Spock just listens. McCoy is in a jovial mood. He notices Spock's somber expression. "Hey Spock, lighten up. Give me one of those Vulcan smiles."
Spock places his fork back down onto the table. He glares at the good doctor.
McCoy does not back down. "Come on Spock. How 'bout a nice hearty laugh?"
Jim jabs McCoy in the ribs, then mutters, "Bones."
McCoy laughs. "Aw Jim, I'm just having fun with our favorite Vulcan."
Spock abruptly stands. He stands so quickly, he causes his glass of water to topple over. His hands clench into fists. "Damn you, doctor!"
Bones sinks back in his chair, fearing that Spock might strike him. He waves his hands in front of his face. "Hey, calm down, my Vulcan friend."
Spock's eyes bore into the doctor. "Go to hell and don't call me friend." He sharply turns and marches out of the hall. Ignoring the mumblings of shocked passersby.
McCoy recovers from Spock's outburst. His concerned eyes meet his friend's eyes. "Jim, I have joked with him over the years, and he has never reacted with such anger. Normally, he just remarks on my illogical behavior."
"Bones, you really should have kept your mouth shut. Especially about laughing out loud. You know that embarrassing moment has spread throughout the campus. The rumors have been eating at him," Jim says, still worried about Spock.
McCoy sighs. "Yeah, you think I would learn. Besides, I am worried about him. Physically he is fine, and his latest brain scans show all is normal. But these emotional outpourings concern me."
"Me too, Bones. But it has been only a month since he melded with V'Ger. He might need time to sort everything out. I think he will overcome this."
McCoy just nods. "Perhaps you are right Jim.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Spock's afternoon classes start out more positively. He performs with his utmost Vulcan proficiency. Now he enters classroom 120. He is ready to teach his class on planet exploration. He found this class troublesome. It is not the subject matter. There is one particular cadet that constantly interrupted his class. Humans would label him as a class wisecracker. Cadet Nelson would spurt out intolerable one liners while Spock attempts to instruct his cadets. It was not just the jokes Spock found intolerable. It was when Nelson would purposely drop items onto the floor. On occasion, the cadet encouraged some of the other cadets to follow suit. If ignoring the childish actions did not remedy the situation, Spock would remove Nelson's padd and carrying case from him. Spock sometimes had to resort to putting Nelson on report. Nelson should have enough demerits to be removed from the class, but somehow some of those demerits always disappeared from Nelson's record. Spock could only surmise that Nelson's father, Fleet Admiral Nelson, pressured the commandant to remove a few of them.
Spock watches as the cadets file past him. Then they sit in their designated seats. Nelson, however, bumps into Spock, then snickers. Finally, Nelson takes his seat. Spock ignores the rude cadet. He turns around to face the hologram screen. As he loads the correct images for today's class, a small wet wad hits him on the back of the neck. Laughter can be heard from behind him. Spock feels his whole body become tense. He pivots around, and with clenched hands he swiftly moves to Nelson's chair. He grabs hold of Nelson's uniform and lifts Nelson right from his chair. The whole room becomes deadly silent. Spock then pins Nelson against the wall. Through his teeth he says, "I am tired of your insufferable behavior. Get out of my classroom."
Scared, Nelson runs out of the room. Spock faces horrified looks. He hangs his head from shame. With a low voice he manages to say, "Class dismissed."
Many of the cadets walk by him with bewildered expressions. Spock turns around after hearing the last footsteps leave the room. He turns off the screen and then gathers his padd. He knows the boy will report the occurrence to the commandant. Spock can only assume charges will be pressed against him. Now his uncontrolled anger may have jeopardized his career. He slowly heads to his office and slumps into his desk chair. He just stares at the picture of his mother. His desk computer begins to turn on, revealing the image of Commandant Hanson.
"Commander Spock, please report to my office immediately." The commandant's voice exposes his anger.
"Yes sir." Spock's response is almost inaudible.
Within a few moments, Spock enters the small reception office. Spock faces the yeoman. "Commandant Hanson requested my presence."
The yeoman nods. He presses a button. "Commandant, Commander Spock is here."
"Send him in."
Spock enters the roomy office. Salutes are exchanged. The anger that was on the commandant's face had dissipated. "Sit down, Commander." He gestures to the chair in front of the desk.
Spock obeys as the commandant settles back into his leather chair. Spock folds his hands and places them on his lap. Hanson appraises his demeanor. "Commander, you probably know why you are here. You do realize your actions could have resulted in you being suspended. I am glad no harm has befallen Cadet Nelson. Nelson admitted to the spit ball, but your actions were unwarranted. Commander, I have been hearing the rumors of your emotional displays. And I assume you were not aware that I was in the mess when you cursed at Doctor McCoy." Hanson decides to speak less formally. "Spock, this is not like you. I believe the V'ger incident has caused you great stress. Is there anything you wish to say?"
Spock takes in a breath. He truly does not wish to discuss his control with the commandant. "Sir...I regret my actions towards the cadet. I will personally apologize to him and to his father, the Fleet Admiral. Trust me sir, I will never again react with raw emotion. I promise you, I will have my emotions under control. Vulcans have techniques to regulate their emotions."
Hanson shakes his head. He feels Spock needs help. "No, truly Spock, I think you need counseling. Your control, dare I say as of late, is less than a human's control."
Spock feels his anger rise. His control less than a human's? For Spock, or in fact for any Vulcan, that was an insult. He stands up.
Hanson waves him down. "Spock, we are not done yet."
"Oh, yes we are." Spock's eyes become cold.
"Spock, look at how you are reacting. Please, I can recommend a counselor."
At that Spock grabs Hanson's uniform jacket and then begins to lift him from his chair. Quickly realizing what he is doing, he releases the commandant. He sinks back into his chair. "Commandant….I….."
"That's it! I am putting you on medical leave." Hanson presses a button. "Yeoman Ross, please contact Counselor T'Mara Victorino. Commander Spock needs to report to her office ASAP."
"Aye, sir."
Hanson scowls at Spock. "Damn it, man. You almost performed a court martial offense. You are lucky that I am a compassionate man. Wake up, Spock, you need help."
The intercom buzzes. "Commandant, Miss Victorinio can see him this Monday at 0900 hours."
"Good, yeoman." Hanson faces Spock. You will report to Counselor Victorino's office Monday. You are immediately barred from teaching, and your Star Fleet career is at risk. Don't let me hear that you miss even one session with the Lieutenant Commander."
Spock nods. "Yes sir," he says with a low voice. With a stronger voice he asks, "May I ask how long will I be on medical leave?"
"That I cannot answer till I hear from Miss Victorino." Hanson stands. "Spock, your campus access will be restricted to the psych building and to the officers' apartments. Of course you are permitted to go off campus. Understand?"
"Yes Commandant...completely." Spock leaves the office wondering what will become of his future with Star Fleet. What has become of him?
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Spock enters his room. He dresses in his casual clothes, and then puts on his meditation robe. He goes to his meditation alcove. He lights his Vulcan candles and incense. He kneels on the stone slab. He closes his eyes to prepare his mind for meditation. But the memories of the day would not leave him. They taunt him like a Le Matya taunts its prey. He sighs, then stands. He blows out the candles and then removes his black robe. He places it into a drawer. Fortunately since it is Friday evening, he only has approximately 63 hours to report to Lieutenant Commander Victorino's office.
He has the food replicator prepare him a salad, even though he is not hungry. He pours himself a glass of Vulcan Port. He takes his plate and glass to the living room and places them on the table. He eats a couple of bites of the salad. He then pushes the plate away from him. He sips on his drink as he contemplates contacting McCoy. He did owe the good doctor an apology. He is certain of one thing; by now McCoy has learned of his circumstances. Medical leave would be reported to his physician. Spock downs the rest of his drink. He picks up his padd. He voice commands the doctor's number. A part of him hopes the doctor will not answer. The whole situation is humiliating.
McCoy's craggy face appears on the screen. "Spock? Ah, how are you doing?"
Spock hesitates. "Doctor, I am sure you have received the commandant's notification of me being placed on medical leave and required to report to the counselor." He leans back in his body-conforming chair. "I do apologize for my earlier actions."
McCoy's craggy face softens. "I accept your apology, Spock. I know counselor Victorino. She is a highly qualified counselor. Actually, you might find her to your liking. Trust me, Spock. I really believe she can help you."
"I am a Vulcan, Doctor. We do not suffer from mental imbalances."
"Hogwash, Spock. You know that is wrong. Besides, no one says that you are suffering from mental disabilities. You might be suffering from that damn meld. V'Ger was a living machine. You did sustain some neurological trauma, which was treated with medication. Spock, your career is hanging in the balance" McCoy can only hope Spock listens to reason. "The only other option is to send you to Vulcan."
Spock swallows. The last thing he would want is to expose his lack of emotional control to a full blooded Vulcan. Most likely, his father would suggest a healer for him. A healer that would retrain his mind in the Vulcan way. He certainly does not want lose the degree of integration with his human half that he has gained. "No, Doctor, I do not care to return to Vulcan. I will relent and go to the Star Fleet counselor." Since he no longer wishes to discuss his dilemma, he just says, "Good night, doctor."
He puts his padd down on the table. He cleans everything up and then puts on his coat. He decides to walk down to the bay, which is appropriately 2.45 miles from his apartment. He locates a secluded section he had discovered when he arrived back at the academy. It gives him an optimal view of the night sky. He looks upon Luna and the stars. He notices that on this evening Jupiter appears close to Luna. He keeps his focus on the clear dark sky. He recently acknowledged a'Tha, which is the constant awareness of the creator some might call God. His mother believed in prayer. This concept he has trouble understanding. All he knows now is that he needs answers. He sighs and lowers his head for he is not going find his answers by looking into the heavens. So he begins to walk back to his place. Once he is inside, he prepares himself for bed, though it seems futile…for most likely sleep will escape him.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
He arrives exactly at 0900 hours at counselor Victorino's office. Since he is on medical leave, he is dressed in his human casual wear. The yeomen looks up from her computer. "Ah, Commander, go right in. She is ready for you."
He nods, then enters the main room. The lighting is dim and there is a fragrance of Vulcan incense. On the small table in the center of the room, sits a lit Vulcan candle. As he turns, T'Mara Victorino steps around her desk. All the negative words he had prepared suddenly leave him. Her beauty mesmerizes him. She is a tall dusky-complected female, with dark brown wavy hair that reaches to her shoulders. Her body is curvaceous. Her big brown eyes sparkle. But what fascinates him the most are her Vulcan features. As she steps closer, he notices her ears are round. So unusual, he thinks, for Vulcan genes are very dominant.
T'Mara is in awe, for Commander Spock is standing near her. She has seen him on campus from a distance. Of course, she had seen news holographs of him. This handsome man now stands only a few feet away from her. His black long-sleeved pullover fits close to his body, revealing his lean but toned upper body. She mentally shakes off her sexual attraction. To be a proficient counselor, she must keep any desires for her clients at bay.
He sits down on a black cushioned chair. He looks about him and takes notice of a plaque above her desk. The words in bold black writing say, 'Love is a verb. One needs to love by actions. If you don't, then it is just a feeling.' She sits down across from him. She notices him staring at the plaque. He then finally looks at her and says, "So did you create this atmosphere just for me?"
She can hear a touch of sarcasm in his voice, but she replies, "Actually, I find it relaxing. After all, I am half Vulcan. Commander Spock, I am not here to judge you or to make you feel uncomfortable."
"Yes, yes, I am here for you to cure me of my unstable emotional control," he says with bitterness.
T'Mara had read all of Dr. McCoy's medical files on Spock. The reports were from the day he boarded the Enterprise, right after his meld with V'Ger. She knows this will not be an easy case. "Commander, let me start by telling you a little bit of my background. I have a masters in psychology from the University of Pennsylvania. I inherited my mother's telepathic abilities. So after receiving my masters, I went to Vulcan in search of a Vulcan healer. I went to the city of ShiKahr."
Spock mumbles, "ShiKahr."
"Yes, the very city in which you were born and raised. Anyway, I sought out a healer to further develop my telepathic abilities. This was not an easy task, for I was rejected by many. Not just because I am half human but because I was raised as a human. Finally, I found a kind woman healer. As you are aware, being a touch telepath is not always a blessing, for when a person touches you, you can be overwhelmed by a person's emotions. So she taught me first the techniques of shielding those emotions of others. Once I had achieved this, she taught me mind touch and mind melding for the purpose of healing. I learned under T'Lana, daughter of Skor and T'Vera. I spent two years with her before entering Star Fleet Academy. I also learned the techniques of healing one from a meld that caused mental imbalance." She does not add emotional imbalance in fear of upsetting Spock.
After hearing her words, Spock becomes more fascinated by this woman. He almost envies her, for she has obtained what he wished to acquire, a balance of logic and emotions. But his only reply is, "Impressive."
"Commander, I assure you all that will be said here will be strictly confidential. Neither the Commandant nor Dr. McCoy can learn of the words you share with me. My report will only contain the number of times you have reported to me, and eventually the outcome of the sessions. So let us please begin. Commander, can you pinpoint when you first noticed you no longer could control your emotional reactions?"
She begins to wonder if he will even respond. Then words finally emerge from his mouth. "Yes...two weeks after my return to the academy. I would broadly smile when I was greeted by a cadet. Then...no." He cannot finish.
She gives him an encouraging smile. "Commander, I realize you find this very invasive, but I need to hear from you what had transpired this last month. Please trust me." She does not need to touch him to feel his pain. For there is nothing worse for a Vulcan than a loss of control.
She leans forward.
He reconsiders his refusal to talk. If he does not allow her to help him, it could result in ending his career. It is not just his career at stake, but his mental stability is also in jeopardy. He needs to accept her help no matter the personal cost. So he allows the difficult words leave his lips. He becomes relieved, for his session is coming to an end.
After hearing of his regrets and struggles, she wants to hug him. However, in his present state of mind, it would not be wise. She assumes that his imbalance could have been due to his mind meld with V'Ger. It most likely will take several sessions just for her to gain his total trust. The trust for her to mind touch him. She stands as he stands. "Commander Spock, our time is up. Thank you for sharing. I know this was very difficult for you. I will eventually be able to formulate a reason of you emotional imbalance. That is, if you are still willing to cooperate. So same time Wednesday?"
He surprisingly feels that a burden has been removed from him. He did not expect this. He credits this to Miss Victorino's compassionate and empathetic demeanor. "Yes Miss Victorino. I will be here Wednesday at 0900 hours."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
After his sixth session, Spock decides to visit his friends. A suggestion from the counselor. She warned him not to be too reclusive.
Spock walks up to Kirk's apartment door. He thinks he should just turn around and head back to his place. But it would be inconsiderate, for Kirk and McCoy are expecting him. Also, Miss Victorino would be counting on him to report on his visit. For reasons he does not understand, he does not want to displease her.
He goes under the door monitor. He can hear it announcing his presence. Jim soon opens the
door. Spock steps inside. At first, Jim is taken aback by Spock's casual appearance. Spock's hair is growing out and there is beard stubble covering his chin and upper lip.
Jim quickly recovers and then pats him on the back. "You made it after all." Jim looks over at Bones. "I told you Bones, he would show up."
Spock sits across from McCoy and Kirk. "Hello Dr. McCoy." He does not miss the scrutinizing stare from the good doctor.
McCoy figures that Spock's unusual appearance might be a symptom of despondency over his situation. It could not be easy for Spock to be on medical leave. McCoy decides to keep the conversation light. "First of all, Spock, don't be so darn formal. You are amongst friends." Bones then nudges Jim on the arm with his elbow. "Jim, do you see what I see?"
Jim smiles as he nods his head. McCoy looks back at Spock. "Spock what's up with that peach fuzz on your face?"
Spock stares at the doctor with a puzzled expression. "Doctor, I do not eat peaches, therefore there cannot be any peach remnants on my face."
"Blast it, Spock. No, no...oh never mind. Are you growing a beard?" McCoy sputters.
Spock manages to restrain a sigh. "Leonard, one might have said so in the first place. Since I am on leave and have been restricted from campus, except to see my counselor. I chose to forgo my beard retardant."
McCoy is about to make a snappy remark about Spock's illogical behavior but quickly concludes that it would not be wise.
Jim pours himself and McCoy a glass of bourbon. He glances over at Spock. "Hey do you want a glass of Altair water?"
Spock's eyes gleam as he glances towards McCoy. "No, Jim. Actually, you can pour me a glass of bourbon."
Bones coughs. "Uh Spock, you are not planning on getting drunk?"
Spock cocks a playful brow. "Certainly not. I said a glass of bourbon. You will probably down two drinks before I even finish my one glass."
Jim laughs. "He has you there, Bones. You do love your bourbon."
McCoy and Jim make certain not to ask about Spock's counseling appointments. They share about the happenings at the academy. Jim makes certain Spock knows his cadets miss him and wish him well. They only know Spock is on leave. Even Spock's fellow crewmates are in the dark about the reason for his absence.
Spock finishes his drink and soon takes his leave. Jim heads back to his chair. He glances at McCoy. "Bones, it was good to see Spock. But his appearance concerns me. Is this counselor really good? Can she help him?"
McCoy downs his glass of bourbon. "Jim, I share your concern, but I heard positive reports of Miss Victorino. As a matter of fact, I did some research on the Lieutenant Commander. Get this, she is half Vulcan. She spent two years on Vulcan training under a Vulcan healer. Jim, if anyone can help Spock, it is her."
Feeling more at ease, Jim finishes his drink. He starts babbling on about his latest conquest. McCoy just listens, wondering if Jim will ever find that one woman that will capture his heart forever.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
By his tenth appointment, Spock becomes more comfortable conversing with his counselor. At times they would just talk. After each appointment, Spock learned more of T'Mara's background. Her father, Andre Victorino, was a professional baseball player. He met T'Mara's mother at the University of Pennsylvania. Her mother had ventured to earth to study human behavior. It was happenstance she ended up at the university. They both majored in engineering and applied sciences. They married soon after they graduated. To his wife's surprise, Andre did not seek a profession that would utilize his education. He instead tried out for the Philadelphia Phillies. He was assigned to one of their farm teams. By the following year, he was a third baseman for the Phillies. But not all was well with their marriage. He fought with depression, which led him to alcohol. T'Mara was born soon after Andre and T'Sain's second year of marriage. T'Sain no longer wished to be married to a man who verbally abused her. So when T'Mara was six months old, without a word, she left for Vulcan. She never contacted him and had no wish to see her half-breed daughter.
Spock also learned why T'Mara's ears are round. Her father felt she favored her mother too much, so he took her to a plastic surgeon at the age of five to have her ears bobbed and shaped like human ears. T'Mara's brows were left alone, for her father never finished paying the surgeon.
Spock discovered that T'Mara's childhood was filled with verbal abuse and sometimes physical abuse by her alcoholic father. There were times her aunt, Andre's sister, Twanda, had to take care of her when he was away with the team. But his career was short-lived due to his drinking. He ended up going from job to job. Fortunately, T'Mara found comfort from her three cousins.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooo
T'Mara is sitting in her chair waiting for the commander. She believes these sessions have been beneficial for Spock. Opening herself up to him seemed to encourage him to disclose his pain. His trust of her also grew after each appointment. This is what she wanted to achieved. Will this be the day he will agree to let her perform a mind touch? The touch will reveal if the meld with V'Ger has caused his mental instability.
She smiles as he enters the room. She quickly notices his welled-groomed appearance "Commander, you are looking very nice today." Though she is amazed that he has not shaven his goatee.
With a mild manner he says, "Thank you, but please just address me as Mr. Spock, for I am not your Commander."
"Very well, with that being said, please call me T'Mara." She fiddles with her padd, then looks directly at him. "Mr. Spock, do you trust me? I mean truly trust me?"
Spock gives her a baffled look. "T'Mara, certainly you must know I do trust you."
She closes her eyes for a few seconds, then takes in a breath. "To discover the root of your emotional instability, I need to perform a mind touch. I need to seek your deepest memories of your experience with V'Ger. I am sorry, Mr. Spock, it may be the only way to resolve this."
He now understands her question. The only thing he found uncomfortable about her touching his mind is she will discover his fondness for her. Not only that, but the touch would reveal her feelings, if any, for him. Could their counselor-patient relationship have turned into a deep friendship? He focuses on her dark discerning eyes. He determines it will be worth the risk. He clears his throat. "Miss Victorino, please proceed."
He leans back and prepares his mind for her touch. She places her fingers on the proper focal points. She feels everything he felt during the meld and after the meld. Moments pass by and she breaks the mind probe. Tears fall from her eyes. "Spock." Her voice catches. "That meld was overpowering. I am surprised you did not suffer a total mental breakdown. Your mind must be extraordinarily resilient. That meld could have damaged a full-blooded Vulcan's mind. The good news is, I can cure you. But I would need to perform a healing meld."
He takes his fingers to gently wipe away her tears. Her probe also revealed her affection for him. "Yes T'Mara, but when can we proceed?"
She wants nothing more than to have him no longer suffer from the meld. She then thinks how nice it will be for him to return to instructing. "Come here tomorrow at 16:30 hours. You will be my last appointment. This will allow us more time if needed."
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Spock arrives at 16:30 hours. They walk into the larger room together. This time the only thing illuminating the room are two Vulcan candles. Light fragrant incense drifted through the air. T'Mara instructs him to lie on a bed that had emerged from the far wall. She places one hand on his forehead and the other on the upper side of his face. She silently prays, then begins the healing meld.
About an hour later, T'Mara removes her hands from his face. It had been emotional and mentally draining for both of them. She sits on the floor beside his bed. She sees Spock slowly opening his eyes.
"Spock." She lightly touches his shoulder. "Are you alright?"
He turns his head to face her. "Yes T'Mara, I am alright. Thank you for all you have done."
She wearily smiles. "I hope your thanks is not premature, but time will tell."
He sits up and allows her to sit next to him. Since both are recovering from the meld, they sit quietly for a few moments. It is T'Mara who speaks first. "Spock, are you hungry?"
"Indeed, I am."
"Good, I can order us some vegetarian fare and have it delivered here, if that is agreeable with you."
"Very agreeable."
T'Mara commands the lights on, and then they both move to a small table that sits in the center of the room. Within minutes, the Vegetarian Lo Mein arrives. As T'Mara places plates and tableware on the table, she says, "I always keep a supply on hand, in case I need to eat here."
"Logical." Spock is about to eat when he notices T'Mara bowing her head. He assumes she is blessing her food. So out of respect he waits until she picks up her fork.
She shares a few lighthearted stories of her past as they eat. T'Mara finishes her meal first. She is glad to see that Spock has a hearty appetite. While he was struggling with his depression, he admitted to her that he rarely ate at all. She peers into his dark eyes. "Spock, when you arrive home tonight, try to see if you can meditate. If you are successful, it will mean that you are no longer suffering from the imbalance. No matter what, call me. It does not matter how late it is."
"I will, T'Mara." He pulls out his phone from his pants pocket. He hands it to her.
She enters her personal phone number into his phone. She then hands it back to him. "Once I hear from you, I will write my report. If your response is a positive one, I will send the report to the Commandant. Spock, just think, you might be back instructing by next Monday." Her voice is full of hope.
With smiling eyes he says, "T'Mara, that would be the most pleasing news."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Just as T'Mara had told him, Spock returns to instructing that Monday. Now he could meditate, and he is able to control his emotions. The only thing the Commandant requires of him is to report once a month to a counselor for the next four months. It is to assure that the healing meld was completely successful. Spock is disappointed that T'Mara could not be his counselor. Due to their growing friendship, it would cross the boundaries of counselor and client. T'Mara recommended Dr. Greene, who studied on Vulcan. He specialized in Vulcan psychology.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Amanda had taught Spock the importance of manners, and to show gratitude to humans. During his younger years, he struggled with human gratitude. McCoy always reminded him of his failure in gratitude. But after V'Ger and his counseling sessions, he wished to change that in himself. He wished to send a gift of thanks to T'Mara, so he seeks out his friend Jim for advice.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
T'Mara arrives at her apartment after a long day of counseling. Right after she changes into her casual clothes, her door monitor announces there is a delivery person at her door. She answers the door. A lady hands over a long white box, which is wrapped with a bright pink ribbon. There is a big pink bow on the top center of the box. T'Mara tips the lady, then goes back to her living room. She sits down and then opens the box. Inside is a dozen pink roses, with baby's breath. As she lifts them up, she notices a card. After placing the roses in a vase, she reads the handwritten note. It says, 'A gift of appreciation from your friend, Spock.' Then she sees there is a phone number under the words, 'As the humans like to say, give me a call.'
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