Cooking up a Storm
A follow up to 'It's Pon Farr Time!'
Jim was sitting in bed, watching Spock. The young Vulcan was kneeling on the floor, holding a copper ladle over a brazier. With his free hand, he picked one of two glass vials he'd set on the floor and poured a honey-like substance into the ladle. He waited a moment, then picked the second vial, this one holding a reddish liquid that fizzed when it came in contact with the concoction already bubbling in the ladle.
Soon, a pleasant smell spread through the room.
"You could have just borrowed some incense from Sulu," Jim said off-handedly.
Spock didn't seem to hear.
Jim was starting to fidget. He had waited months for this moment so a few more minutes shouldn't really matter, but Spock's actions were mystifying to say the least. They were finally going to have sex and what did Spock do? Cook!
Spock finally seemed to remember that he wasn't alone in the room. He raised his gaze.
"Are you nervous, Jim?"
"Me? No," Jim said, meaning just the opposite. He was about to have sex with a Vulcan -hell, he was about have sex with a male. Of course he was nervous!
But Spock took his reply literally.
"I am glad," he said good-naturedly.
Jim leant forward. "So. Are you done?"
Spock lifted the ladle and inspected its contents.
"It is almost ready," he said confidently. He poured the resulting goo into a small jar, turned off the brazier, and then rose, carefully holding the jar by its neck. "Now we let it cool."
"What's that, anyway?" Jim said. "It's not dinner, right? 'Cause if it is, I'll have to ask Scotty to beam me some food." He smiled at his own joke, but the smile faded when he noticed the intense look in Spock's eyes as he walked back to the bed.
"It is not dinner, Jim," The Vulcan said softly. "It is our t'hy' cha-sbah"
Jim didn't even try to repeat the word. "So, what is it?"
"Vulcan lube." Spock took a step closer to the bed, "I am ready to go where no man has gone before, Jim."
The end