Warnings, disclaimers and thanks enumerated in Part One.
Part Two of Thirteen: Consultation
You should never wear old sweats stolen from your father, brother or honey, or underwear with holes and sagging elastic. Never ever. There are no exceptions to this rule.
"So I was thinking of this for Step One," she said, holding up a dress that was probably illegal on twenty planets.
"Maybe you should borrow something from me."
She choked out a laugh, then took a breath. "Oh, you were serious. That's sweet. No."
"Gaila, no sex until Step Six."
She rolled her eyes and shook the dress in my direction. "The dress isn't sex, Ny."
"Yes, it is," I countered.
"I'm going to try it on," she said, spinning and hurrying to her bedroom. "Maybe you'll think differently when you see it on me."
"Can I see it on you?" I asked. "There doesn't seem to be enough fabric to be seen by Human eyes."
She grunted, then said. "Oh! I got you a gift. For your help. It's on the table."
A small rectangular object was wrapped in some glittery fabric. I wondered if she'd bought me more lingerie. It would make Spock's day.
I tore the material off and tried to wrap my mind around the object I was holding in my hands. It was a book - a real book, with ink and paper and a binding and everything. I looked at the title etched in bright red letters: Monogamy Rocks! by Dr. Kelly Flenderson, Psy.D.
Huh.
The pieces were starting to fall together.
"Do you like it?" Gaila asked, yelling from her sleeping alcove like she was on the other side of the ship.
"It's a book," I said stupidly. "About monogamy."
I flipped the book over. Kelly Flenderson was smiling up at me, her eyes bright, her face slightly lined, her hair streaked with gray.
"And how it rocks," Gaila added. "Especially when you get to do the stuff Kelly talks about in Chapter Six."
I turned to the table of contents. Chapter Six was titled "Variety is the Spice of Life."
Oh!
Gaila cleared her throat and said, "Steps before spice."
I looked up and took her in. "No."
"Nyota!"
"No."
"He'll know I'm a woman!"
"Because he could give you a full gynecological exam from twenty meters away. No."
She frowned at me. "I've taken two weeks to get to this point, Ny. I need to get this process moving."
"It will," I vowed. "But do the steps, take your time. Remember, the man went through a very bad divorce and, subsequently, he may be a little reluctant to jump into something. Approach him carefully, subtly."
"Like you did with Spock."
"Exactly"
"And Kelly did with her husband."
"Sure," I said, even though I completely wasn't.
"No way," she said. "I am not waiting years for him. I want him now. Six Steps, five days, done."
I tried to figure out how to make her understand that things like this couldn't be rushed. They needed to grow, slowly and surely – over the course of time – weeks, months – maybe even a year….
"Do you remember the puppies my brother's beagle had when we were in Africa last year?" I asked, taking a different tack.
"Oh, they were so cute!"
"Think of McCoy as one of those puppies – he's vulnerable, but he thinks he's a le-matya; he's skittish, but he thinks he's not." I was warming to my metaphor, "He's a little puppy that's all teeth and paws."
"And tongue!" Gaila chirped.
"No sex until Step Six," I said, taking a deep breath. "Now, Doctor McCoy is a skittish puppy," I began again.
"Who thinks he's a le-matya but is really a wing slug – except with teeth and paws," she chimed in.
"This is why things take so long with you," I protested. "Spock would let me make my argument in minutes."
"And dismantle it in seconds."
"No, he wouldn't," I protested, "Spock sees the wisdom of what I have to say."
"Because you have sex with him," she said.
"Not just because of that! Anyway, we need to talk about you. And McCoy - whose teeth are sharp and when he nips he doesn't really mean to hurt you, but sometimes he does anyway. Then there are his paws – the big, floppy paws he trips himself on while he's trying to be the master curmudgeon."
"You really don't understand the concept of metaphors, do you?" she questioned, tapping her foot. "They're supposed to make things easier to understand."
I glared, but persisted. "Gaila, I'm just saying that you can't come on too strong with a guy like that. You need to approach slowly, with your hand out and fingers curled in. Let him get used to you – let him come to you. And, when he gets there, be gentle…."
"Rub his ears a little?"
"Lala," I said repressively.
"I mean he has nice ears – not as pointy as The Commander's, of course - but I could see the appeal of scratching him behind them a bit."
"Don't touch McCoy's ears."
"You got to kiss Spock during Step Two!"
"I was temporarily insane – and it was stupid. Remember, I was almost court-martialed."
"You were not court-martialed, and you got Vulcan tongue!"
"I did not get Vulcan tongue," I protested.
Though I had since then. A lot.
"But you got to kiss The Commander," she said. "You threw him down on his desk…."
"I didn't throw him down on his desk," I said out of habit. "Fine, you can kiss McCoy during Step Two – but no sex…."
"Until Step Six," she sighed, "Because The Doctoris a puppy who's really a wing slug that thinks it's a le-matya and I shouldn't touch his ears or approach him too quickly or he'll fall over and bite himself on his floppy paws and wow, that's some mixed metaphor there. This is why you didn't get to contribute to my opera."
"I didn't want to contribute to your opera."
She looked at me pityingly. "Sure you didn't - denial is powerful, Nyota – it made me believe I was happy having all kinds of fun sex with random guys when what my soul was really crying out for…."
"Was a hot doctor with a beautiful smile and skillful hands."
"Exactly! And denial makes you think you didn't want to contribute to The Hot Commander and the Lukewarm Cadet."
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and moved the conversation along. "Go try something else – something that actually has material," I prompted.
She trudged away.
I leafed to the sixth chapter and scanned the content; it seemed that Dr. Flenderson had lots of ideas about making monogamy fun.
"I know what you're thinking," Gaila hollered. "You're thinking the only reason I want to be with The Doctor is because of the stuff in Chapter Six – but I've done it all before."
"Many times," I said back, my eyes skittering over the words. There were lots of ideas. Lots and lots.
Maybe I should show Spock how much monogamy can truly rock.
"Mean! But true. Nyota, this isn't about a book - this is about him."
She wasn't shouting anymore; I realized that she'd returned to the living room.
She looked gorgeous – incredible. She was wearing a skintight white cat suit that covered her from ankle to chin; not that it mattered, every outrageous curve of her body was highlighted.
Chapel would resuscitate him, right?
"Well?" she demanded, "And before you say it, I'm completely covered up in this, Ny – seriously, it's like I'm wearing a radiation suit."
I smiled at her. "Lala, you look gorgeous. The poor man won't know what hit him."
"You're sure?"
"Absolutely."
She clapped and did a little shimmy. "I can't wait!"
Orion sex deities, please watch over your most beloved daughter and keep her from totally screwing this up. Amen.
