It's easy to think that Vulcans are practically indestructible. Certainly, they can come across that way at times. They're physically stronger. She's seen them walk away from the sort of trauma that would have left a human in sickbay for days, if not dead outright. They can survive exposure to harmful radiation longer than most humanoid species. They need less food and less water and less sleep than the average. It can be intimidating.
Yet, they have their weaknesses, some small, some large, and many surprising. And of those weaknesses, cold is the most pernicious.
There's a small heater, fueled by burning hydrocarbons, that Janeway found and managed to get running. She doesn't entirely trust it, but the tricorder assures her they're in no danger of carbon monoxide poisoning, and the Doctor can repair any damage caused by exposure to improperly burned fuel that might otherwise be caused. Certainly, it's better than freezing to death.
Tuvok is huddled by the heater with a thermal blanket wrapped around him. She knows he'd rather be up and helping her, but she also knows that he'll listen to the logic that says that if he succumbs to hypothermia, he won't be doing either of them any good.
They're in a shed of some kind. It's dark, except for silvery light coming in through one small window. Outside, the snow is only getting worse. It's a blessing, in a way. They weren't exactly received with open arms on this planet, and had been forced to abandon their shuttle with only the few supplies they could carry. The raiders who attacked them are probably still looking for them, but in the blizzard, they're almost certainly more concerned with shelter and staying warm than chasing after the intruders in their territory.
Janeway sits down on her haunches and takes inventory. It's not very encouraging. They have a few ration bars, one thermal blanket, their tricorders, their phasers, and a partially stocked med kit-and when they get back to Voyager, Janeway is going to have words with whomever failed to fully restock the med kit as part of clearing the shuttle for use.
She sighs. The good news is that Voyager must have gotten their distress call and is no more than two hours out. The bad news is they have to pass up to two hours in a freezing shed on too little food and no water except the possibility of melted snow.
Neither of them says a word when Kathryn sits down and positively snuggles up against Tuvok under the thermal blanket. It is logical, after all, to share body heat. His skin is ashy and his eyes are half-closed. His body, bred for the desert and designed to get rid of heat as quickly and efficiently as possible, has limited mechanisms to conserve warmth. He has very little body fat, and his blood vessels can only contract so far.
She takes out one of the ration bars, breaks off a small piece, and hands him the rest.
"I require less food-"
"Not when it's this cold, you don't," Kathryn says. "Eat it, that's an order."
He nods, and takes it, eating quickly. He looks a little more alert after, but Janeway knows it won't last. His body is burning everything it has in a desperate attempt to keep him warm.
"Don't fall asleep on me," she says.
"I will endeavor to remain awake," he assures her.
"I mean it, Tuvok. If you start to feel tired, tell me. I know how quickly hypothermia can take down a Vulcan and if you fall asleep, there is a very good chance you won't wake up again."
"I am aware of the danger. You yourself are not immune to the cold."
"No, but my body can handle it better than yours." She pulls the thermal blanket up over his head.
"Your concern is noted, and...not unappreciated."
She smiles and wraps her arms around his waist, pressing her face to his chest. She feels him tense, and force himself to relax.
"Sorry," she murmurs. "I know how uncomfortable this must be for you."
"It is necessary," he said. He pauses for a moment and adds, "It is less unpleasant because it is you."
She doesn't reply, but the complement makes her feel warm in a way that has nothing to do with the actual temperature.
They stay like that for a while, until Tuvok starts to droop again. She gives him another ration bar, and as he eats, she notices that the tips of his fingers are much too pale. Damn.
"Will you give me your hands?"
It has to be a question. She knows what hands are to Tuvok's people, and she can't assume, not with this.
He goes still again, and then holds out one freezing hand for her to take between both of hers. She rubs his hand briskly, trying to keep the movement as businesslike and therapeutic as possible. She has no idea if she's succeeding or not because Tuvok's has gone the particular sort of stone-faced that means he's trying very hard not to give anything away.
When she's warmed up both of his hands, he tucks them between his thighs and drops his eyes. She's been around Tuvok long enough to know that he's embarrassed. She wants to tell him not to be, but that will just make it worse. Instead, she keeps quiet and adjusts the blanket so that their feet are covered.
After several more long minutes, Tuvok murmurs, "I find myself growing excessively tired."
Janeway pokes him in the ribs, not gently, and says, "Give me a report on Voyager's tactical readiness."
It's not the best topic. Tuvok could give that report in his sleep and is fading so quickly that he very well might be for all that he's giving her details about the number of torpedoes they have left, and the results of his last drills.
She pokes him again and feeds him the second to last of the ration bars. Tuvok rests his head against her shoulder. He's started shivering. It's not a good sign.
Before she can think of another topic for conversation, he says quietly, "I miss...being touched."
She blinks in surprise even as her stomach jumps with worry. He must be half out of his mind to say something like that out loud.
"I thought Vulcans didn't much care for being touched," she says, breaking away from him for just a moment to turn up the temperature on the heater. She'll turn it back down in a minute-they need to conserve fuel-but right now she needs to get him warmer.
"We do not...enjoy the touch of strangers, but we...enjoy...we need...the touch of family."
He's touch starved, she realizes with a jolt, angry with herself for not having seen it before. She's seen him in private with his family. She knows that Vulcan parents aren't completely standoffish with their children. Even in public, a hand on the shoulder, a squeeze of the upper arm, even a brief hug for the youngest of them is not uncommon. In private, she has seen Tuvok pick up and rock his upset toddler as gently and attentively as any human father would.
She knows that Vulcan lovers don't share a bed only once every seven years. Tuvok's sex life has never been a topic open for discussion, but Tuvok and T'Pel didn't have four kids by having long, sedate conversations over tea.
In the Alpha quadrant, he might have gone months without seeing, or touching, his family, but he knew they were only ever a few weeks away at high warp, and he did get to visit them. Here, he has no family.
"I miss being touched too," Janeway says. It isn't as bad for her. She isn't barred by her biology and her culture from casually touching the people around her. At the same time, she needs more physical contact than Tuvok, and the fact is she isn't getting it. She's the Captain. She can't just admit to needing a hug, not without carefully considering her words and actions and whom she's talking to. "You know, we could help each other out from time to time."
Did she just offer to be Tuvok's cuddle buddy? The cold must be getting to her too.
"Are you suggesting a sexual relationship?" Tuvok asks.
"No!" Janeway says because she loves Tuvok, but sex with him is something that...well, it's not that it's never crossed her mind, but certainly she's never thought about it seriously. Besides, he's married to T'Pel. He loves her madly even though he'd never say it with words, and even on the far side of the galaxy, that hasn't changed.
"Although," she says quickly, before she can chicken out, "if-when the need arises, I want you to know that you have me as an option. Please at least consider it."
This is a terrible circumstance in which to bring that up, with Tuvok delirious from cold and unable to pull away from her even if he desperately wants to, but the words need saying, and this is the first time she's had an opening.
"I will consider it," Tuvok says, and Janeway lets it go because that's all she can ask for.
"But no, Tuvok, I'm not suggesting a sexual relationship. I only-I know that your culture doesn't really allow for touching people who aren't family, but I also know that one of the reasons you value family so highly is that they meet that need for touch, and for-" What is the Vulcan word? "Taluhk," she remembers finally, probably getting the conjugation all wrong, to say nothing of butchering the pronunciation. It means being cherished. It doesn't translate as love, but it expresses much the same thing.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is that we are family, of a sort. I know I'm not T'Pel, or your children, or your brother, but I am..."
"You are pi-maat," Tuvok says.
She doesn't get a chance to ask him what that means because Voyager shows up a moment later. They're beamed directly to sickbay, and the Doctor clears Janeway in a few minutes but keeps Tuvok under observation for four hours. Janeway tries hard not to think about what that means about how close she was to losing him.
Later, she looks the word up. The computer can tell her only that pi-maat translates as 'kin'. Knowing the Vulcan language, there are layers and layers of meaning that she's missing. Someday, maybe, she'll ask Tuvok to explain it to her. For now, she notices that, when they're alone, he will sometimes stand a little closer to her than he did before, and on occasion go so far as to rest his hand on her shoulder. And every once in a while, Janeway will admit that she needs a hug, and he will acquiesce to taking her in his arms and letting her find respite there for a few moments.
Tuvok, it turns out, gives the best hugs.