Chapter Six: Conversations
Disclaimer: I borrowed these guys and made them do stuff. I don't own them at all.
"78.4%? Are you certain?" Nyota gives a little shake of her head at the young Vulcan girl whose cheeky observation about Nyota's free time has left her scrambling to respond. "Of course you are. But—you spend lots of time with your friends, too, don't you? I see you with Saril quite often."
"This is true," T'Sela says. "But Saril and I do not engage in sexual activities. You and Commander Spock—"
Nyota stands up from the chair facing T'Sela and moves quickly to the hot pot she keeps for tea. She busies herself with making tea for both of them and then carefully pours two cups.
"Does this line of questioning make you uncomfortable?" T'Sela asks, taking a sip of her tea. "I thought that humans did not mind discussions about their sexual relationships."
Nyota takes a sip, too, and considers how to answer.
"We don't mind too much," she says. "But I thought Vulcans did. Perhaps it would be better if we changed the topic."
There. That might work. She really doesn't want to share information with the Vulcan teen that might get back to T'Nara or might embarrass Spock in some way. But T'Sela seems unfazed.
"I have never understood the Vulcan hesitation to converse about sexuality. It seems…illogical to me."
Nyota smiles at the girl's choice of words. Actually, she realizes, she agrees. Perhaps she can have an authentic conversation without giving away anything too personal.
"My relationship with Commander Spock is private," she says, watching T'Sela closely. "Since he isn't here to confirm or deny anything I might say about it, it seems…illogical to discuss it."
T'Sela's eyes narrow slightly—she is clearly thinking over Nyota's line of reasoning. Nyota leans back in her chair and blows another sip of tea.
"If we limited our conversation to only things which could be verified, we would be unable to talk about any other people unless they were present," T'Sela says. "This would hamper our communication considerably."
She tilts her head a fraction—a triumphant look?—and Nyota laughs.
"Alright, alright, I give up. But I reserve the right to refuse to answer any particular questions."
T'Sela brightens and sits up.
"Agreed." She takes a sip of her own tea and seems to be considering how to proceed.
At last she says, "Since you and the Commander are not bonded, have you decided to live as humans? My studies in Terran psychology indicate that humans often cohabitate without any formal alliance. Is that your intention?"
This question catches Nyota off guard. Live as humans? She has never thought of what they are doing as a choice between being human and being Vulcan. Perhaps Vulcans see it differently?
If so, that might explain some of T'Nara's distaste.
"I'm not sure what you mean by living as humans," Nyota says. "Is that really so different than living as Vulcans?"
For the first time, T'Sela betrays a hint of hesitation when she answers.
"Many Vulcans are bonded as children. Unbonded Vulcans have the added stress of searching quickly for mates when….the time comes."
Nyota knows enough about Pon Farr to realize what T'Sela is not saying—and she doesn't want to press her, despite T'Sela's earlier teenager bravado about being able to speak without shame.
"And unbonded Vulcans---they don't cohabitate? The way humans do?"
T'Sela shifts her gaze beyond Nyota, obviously considering the question.
"It may be that some do and I am unaware," she says at last, "but I believe that only bonded couples live together—or spend 78.4% of their free time together."
At this she flicks her gaze back to Nyota.
X X X X X X X X X X X X
They almost never argue.
Spock has alluded to his discomfort as a child overhearing his parents "discussing" things—usually involving him—his mother's staccato voice, agitated and angry, his father's voice rumbling and quiet, though just as emotional.
They had never argued in front of him, waiting until he was outside or supposedly asleep in his room, but he could imagine too clearly what they looked like when they did, his mother's face, drawn and pinched, his father's brows furrowed, his eyes dark and his gaze flattening as Amanda's tone grew louder.
As a young boy he had more than once been fearful in the morning, sure that one of his parents had left in the night.
But his mother and father had always been in the kitchen when he arose, making the morning meal or sitting companionably together, one reading the feed from a newspadd to the other, the anger of the night gone like desert mist in the sunlight.
It had been very confusing.
And so he avoids arguing with Nyota—though he knows that this is not always wise. Surely other couples have set up a system of rules for negotiating differences that do not include angry rhetoric or emotional displays. When he has time he will research the subject—even he can tell that a conflict is brewing that will need to be addressed soon.
This, too, is confusing. After reporting to the captain about T'Nara's fall and subsequent trip to sickbay, Spock has returned to his quarters, only to find Nyota in a mood he does not recognize. Apparently T'Sela has stayed with her for some time, leaving only a few minutes ago.
Usually when they greet each other in private, Nyota initiates some sort of physical contact—a touch of her hand, a brush of her arm, and then a smile or a kiss before she steps back to survey him as if they had been parted for quite some time. He finds this ritual comforting and tender—indeed, she has assured him that she is not distressed that she must be the one to touch first—as long as he touches last.
Yet today she stays in the chair where she is sitting, her feet tucked on the cushion, her knees drawn up and her arms around them.
"How is T'Nara?" she says, and he moves to the computer at his desk, scrolls through several screens, and then answers.
"Sickbay reports that she has already left for her quarters."
"Weren't you just there?" Nyota asks, and Spock shakes his head slowly.
"T'Nara objected to my presence. I was on the bridge."
Nyota leans her chin to the top of her left knee and looks down. Spock taps the computer screen again and then sits in the chair behind the desk. She looks up briefly and for a moment Spock thinks that she is getting up to come to him. When she stays in her chair, he feels a hint of unease. She is upset about something—perhaps something to do with T'Sela?
He decides to test his theory.
"Were you able to attend to T'Sela's wound sufficiently?" he asks, and Nyota looks momentarily flustered.
"Her wound? Oh, the cut on her hand. Yes. It wasn't that bad after all. She's fine."
"Did something else….." He pauses to consider the appropriate verb. With another Vulcan he would have asked if something else needed discussion, or whether or not something needed an alternative solution—but he has learned that human moods are rarely based on logic.
"Did something else upset you?" he asks, half-expecting Nyota to object, but instead she starts to shake her head.
"No, not really—"
"Then are you too tired to share a meal?"
He stands and walks toward her, but still she doesn't rise. She has said that she is not upset, yet her actions indicate that she is distracted by something. This sort of dissonance—a contradiction between words and actions —was also characteristic of his mother at times. He feels another wave of uneasiness.
"Spock," Nyota says, finally looking up at him and reaching out her hand, "what exactly are we doing?"
He knows her well enough to recognize that she is not asking a literal question—but her meaning baffles him. He could, as he often does with the captain and the doctor, pretend ignorance and answer something like "we are deciding whether or not to eat" or "we are positioned 2.4 meters from each other in my cabin," but he doesn't want to waste her time. He tilts his head and waits for her to elaborate.
"What are we…to each other?" she says, and again he is confused. They are friends and lovers, companions much of the time, colleagues, co-workers, and superior officer and crew member when they are on duty. Why would she need to hear this from him?
"Nyota, I do not understand—"
She makes a quick impatient sound and then looks up, apologetic.
"I didn't mean to….I know I'm not being clear. It's just, where is this relationship going? Are we going to make anything official? Is this….the way it will always be?"
He steps close enough for her outstretched hand to meet his own. He feels her distress immediately, and he searches for the meaning behind it. She is unhappy—that much is clear—and he is the cause, though he cannot tease apart the reasons.
Why are you distressed? Even as he asks wordlessly in her mind, he beats back his own fear of what she will say.
I don't know, she replies, and he feels his heart beating so hard that it shakes his ribcage.
"What has happened?" he asks aloud, and Nyota pulls back her hand and breaks their mental link.
"Nothing's happened," she says. "It's just that…T'Nara isn't going to be the only Vulcan who disapproves of your choices. It might be easier if we—if you—"
She stops, her voice wavering, and Spock deliberately slows his breathing.
"'There's just so much that I don't know…about you."
Is that all? Spock feels a rush of relief. She is curious, then. He had misinterpreted her mood as something more ominous.
"And I, you," he says. She shakes her head.
"No, it's not that simple. For instance, I haven't asked you about so many things that matter to people like T'Nara, and your father. To other Vulcans. You've never said much about your bondmate—"
"We ended our bond the last time I was on Vulcan, as I told you," he says, again feeling nonplussed. He hasn't thought about T'Pring in months—that Nyota mentions her is a surprise.
"Why is this a concern"? he asks, and Nyota looks uncomfortable.
"Today, when T'Sela was here, she mentioned that she was bonded when she was a child—"
"To Saril."
"No, I thought that, too. She says that Saril is t'hy'la but not more—that another boy, Tollock, and she will…be together…when the time comes."
Spock feels himself flush—even discussing someone else's bond status is frowned upon, much less alluding to Pon Farr this way. T'Sela's frankness with Nyota is astonishing.
Almost as if she can anticipate his thought, Nyota smiles ruefully and says, "T'Sela told me that she doesn't understand Vulcan reticence in talking about these matters."
Spock opens his mouth to speak—surely she is joking. Even humans honor certain traditions and taboos.
"And don't tell me that humans have topics they don't wish to discuss, either—like death, for instance."
Again she has anticipated what he would say—without benefit of a mind link. The side of his mouth quirks slightly.
"Don't give me that look," she scolds. "My point in bringing this up is that T'Sela asked me—and I think it is a fair question—why we aren't bonded. I know I don't understand everything—" Here Spock sees her dart him a glance. "But if Vulcans need to be bonded, shouldn't we consider it?"
She looks him in the eye then. A few times in his life he has stood at the precipice of decisions that he knew could not be reversed. Turning down his appointment to the Vulcan Science Academy was one. Accepting an appointment to Starfleet was another.
Disregarding rules about fraternizing and becoming intimate with Nyota was the largest decision of all. Surely she knows this—knows how important she is to him. Yet he isn't ready to think beyond the relationship they have now. Settling into life on the Enterprise has been neither easy nor comfortable—he isn't sure he would welcome yet another change.
It seems unlikely, but the Vulcan High Council could recall all Vulcan citizens to civil service—and then he would either have to leave Starfleet or renounce his Vulcan ties. If he and Nyota were bonded, what would that mean for her? Leaving the service with him, or accepting his outcast status?
His silence is hurting her—he sees it in her eyes—but he isn't able to say more.
She stands up and nods as if he has given her an answer.
Her comm chimes suddenly and Nyota picks it up from the desk and flicks the voice activation.
"Uhura?"
Dr. McCoy's voice sounds agitated.
"Where are you?" he says, and Spock sees her glance in his direction.
"I was just heading to my quarters," she says, and McCoy says, "Stop by sickbay before you do. I need to see you right away."
The comm clicks off and Nyota looks up.
"I better go," she says, and Spock feels an odd tightening in his sternum when she presses the exit button and walks into the corridor.
A/N: Thanks to StarTrekFanWriter. I love being her beta!