"Perhaps we should go inside?" Trip offered as T'Pol was still doing a pretty decent impression of Lot's wife.
"A sensible suggestion, Charles," T'Pol's mother agreed.
Oh dear, this lady had not come unprepared. But at least she was not calling him Lieutenant Tucker or even nastier names. As far as Vulcans were concerned, this was already a sort of success. He unlocked the door and gestured his guest to come in. T'Pol followed after her, looking at him in confusion.
"I take it you're the contact we were supposed to meet?" he offered neutrally, as he helped T'Pol's mother out of the jacket. Considering she had allegedly not been on Earth before, she accepted his gentlemanly gesture with much more equanimity than T'Pol had, when he had practiced it the first time on her – many moons ago.
"Indeed I am," she replied, offering her hand – much to his surprise. He took and shook it.
"I am T'Les, T'Pol's mother," she introduced herself. "But my daughter - obviously - already stated that."
"Nice to meet you, ma'am; I'm Charles Tucker III, T'Pol's… um…"
"'Mate' is the word you are searching for, young man. Do all humans number their children?"
Trip was startled for a moment before he could collect his wits.
"Um, no ma'am; It's a tradition over here that the first-born male gets the name of the father. As generations add up it becomes a bit tricky to keep track of who's who, especially now that humans live to a hundred years more often than in the past. So we'd end up with three Charles Tuckers. That's why my granddad is called Charles Tucker senior, my dad Charles Tucker junior and, for lack of a special word, I'm the third."
"Most peculiar," the Vulcan said, sitting down when he offered her a seat on the couch. "Following that logic your first male offspring will be named Charles Tucker the fourth?"
"We haven't quite come to cross that bridge, ma'am," he answered, somewhat abashed, and started to prepare tea. "Hell, we don't even know if it's possible, bein' from different species an' all."
"Not to mention that the pertinent biological activity is not available to us, mother," T'Pol chipped in acerbically, and he could hear the sheer frustration in her voice. Whatever happened to 'Vulcans don't speak of such things'? But then, this was her mother, he reminded himself.
"You truly have not mated?" T'Les asked a little too straightforward for his liking.
"Not in a way that the High Command could frame T'Pol for," he answered, sufficiently vaguely. "Did you not hear about that ridiculous medical test the High Command demanded?"
"Kuvak informed me about it," she confirmed. "But I had assumed that the result had merely been manipulated to fit the High Command's expectations."
Trip closed his eyes, but he couldn't keep down the anger at the implication.
"With all due respect, ma'am," he said and turned around to fix the inquisitive in-law-to-be with an enraged glare. "I know most Vulcans think we humans can't keep it in our pants for any length of time, but the results were genuine and I protest the implication. T'Pol and I are havin' enough problems with the fact that some run-down government dictates what we can and what we can't do in private. We certainly don't need to be made fun of!"
"I ask forgiveness, Charles." His guest back-pedaled. "It was not you I was doubtful of. As a Vulcan female I know very well how difficult it must be for T'Pol to resist certain biological instincts."
"She manages," he replied curtly, not really mollified by her half-assed apology. "But to cut this short: I doubt you traveled sixteen light years to discuss our intimate life, or lack thereof."
"Of course not," T'Les agreed. "But the longer this goes on, the more important it becomes to overturn the government. The High Command refuses to annul T'Pol's betrothal. Soval and Kuvak have both advocated a swift annulment, but the government refuses to do so."
"Hell of a reason to stage a rebellion," Trip muttered to himself, but his thoughts were cut short by T'Pol's heated question.
"On which grounds did they refuse?"
"It would infuriate you too much to repeat the illogical reasoning of the High Command. Suffice it to say that your only hope is to make this mission a success."
"Seriously, I've seen a hell of a lot of illogical things in my life," Trip said, having finished the tea. "But your High Command really takes the cake."
"In that we are in full agreement," T'Pol's mother replied, and he wasn't sure if she really had understood the phrase or just guessed from the anger in his voice.
"So how do we go about it?" he asked while pouring the drink for the two Vulcans. "And more importantly: why were you sent as our contact? As T'Pol's mother I'd have thought you're the first the High Command keeps track of."
"They certainly would, if they had the chance," she replied. "However, I have been in hiding for close to two years now."
"That explains why you have not been answering any communications," T'Pol noted drily.
"What it doesn't explain is how you got here without anyone noticin'. Your Vulcan clothes don't really help blendin' in, not to mention leavin' your home world unnoticed."
"Not the entire fleet is loyal to the High Command anymore," T'Les explained. "The Syrranites – that is what our movement is called – have sympathizers in all parts of Vulcan society. It was not too difficult to be smuggled aboard a science vessel. The High Command is obsessed with the military, and generally ignores what the scientific fleet is doing as long as their ships do not interfere with military movements."
"Well, if you have a whole underground organization, how come you need a human for help on your own planet?" Trip asked doubtfully.
"We need you because, unlike the High Command, we are aware of our limitations. Vulcans work logically and methodically. Not only have we exhausted all peaceful means to undermine the High Command, we have also failed to find the artifact that Soval informed us about. It was also reasoned that Humans are much closer in their character to Vulcans at the Time of Awakening than contemporary Vulcans are. Involving humans is therefore the logical conclusion."
"Sorry if it sounds petty, but I never thought I'd hear a Vulcan ask for help," Trip said with a smirk. "I can understand your reasonin', but I fail to see where I should be capable of doin' what you guys can't. After all, it's your planet."
"Soval described you as resourceful," T'Les replied, looking over the rim of her cup, much like T'Pol often did. "As you will have noticed, that is not an attribute that Vulcans have in abundance. The young linguist of whom Soval is speaking fairly fondly would also be an invaluable help as there are many inscriptions at the historic T'Karath monastery that we are unable to decode."
He sent T'Pol a knowing look when T'Les mentioned Soval's fascination with Hoshi.
"Lieutenant Malcolm Reed has also offered his help," the younger Vulcan supplied, minimizing to a raised eyebrow her reaction to his clandestine communication.
"Does he have any qualifications that could be helpful?" T'Les asked.
"Without him T'Pol would now be in a dungeon of the High Command god-knows-where. How's that sound for qualification?" Trip asked.
T'Pol's mother looked at him blankly and he related the event that had given him his bruises.
=/\=
"That's not good," T'Les heard the driver of the vehicle say when they were indicated to stop by an officer of an entity unknown to her. The writing on the officer's car was 'Police'.
"What is happening?" she asked.
"I might have been a bit too fast," Charles explained. "And now I have to come up with a good line or in an hour the High Command will know where you are."
This, however, proved no longer necessary when two cars fortuitously collided on the opposite side of the road, and the officer waved them to go on, swiftly moving to the site of the accident.
"You have to give it to Malcolm: he is good," she heard Charles say admiringly as he accelerated the vehicle without delay.
"Indeed, he is," her daughter obviously agreed.
"This was a deliberate decoy?" she asked as realization came. Had her daughter not identified the unknown human as Malcolm Reed before?
"Most certainly," T'Pol explained.
=/\=
T'Pol's eyebrow went up as they entered the home of the young linguist Hoshi Sato for the second time this day. It had only been a little over five hours since they had left the home's resident and Soval behind and gone to meet their contact, who turned out to be her mother. Now, upon their return, the interior of the dwelling was found to have been restored in full, and Soval had obviously not been parsimonious; even some of the interior features he had not destroyed had been replaced with new items.
She watched as Soval and T'Les conversed quietly with the young ensign and then moved towards them.
"T'Les and I have a great deal to discuss," the elder explained. "We will therefore not be able to accompany you this evening. It is advisable that you use today and tomorrow to rest and prepare for the journey. We will leave in two days."
She acknowledged the advice with a nod, when Charles had a question of his own.
"How're you gonna go back to the compound? You can hardly walk."
"Hoshi-chan will provide transport."
"And you two could raid the fridge to start on some food for the evening," the young human added, patting Charles's arm. You know better than I do what T'Pol likes to eat. If you like a beer, there's a crate in the pantry."
"Can we raid that, too? The pantry, I mean…" Charles asked, clearly amused.
"If you must," the young linguist answered, smiling at him. "But leave something for the next two days. I'm scrawny enough as it is."
=/\=
"Did you notice that your sister was wearing a different shirt than in the morning?" T'Pol asked, washing fruit, while he was cutting bell peppers into strips.
"You're too hung up on that, T'Pol," he said. "Before they went online shopping they cleaned up the apartment and one thing we humans learn quite quickly if we're in contact with Vulcans is that we shower rather one time too many than one time too few. She's simply showered and changed after cleaning out the remains of her former furniture. The two of them seem to keep you thinking."
"It does," she admitted.
"Why? If anything they're closer in life expectancy than we are. We'll probably die something like half a century apart. Wouldn't happen with them, and Soval seems to bear his age quite well."
"Soval is only a hundred forty years old," T'Pol explained. "Vulcans do not continually decline, like humans. Except for outward changes and slight deterioration of the skeleton, we hardly lose mental or physical strength until the age of one hundred and eighty. However, from that point onward the decline is fairly sharp."
"Lucky you," Trip said with a snort. "I'll probably start having creaky bones in twenty years."
"The more important it is that you follow my advice of adopting a healthy lifestyle. I have met humans that were quite agile until a fairly old age. Perhaps you could decide to be a training partner to Soval."
"What?" he asked and looked at her with bemusement. "Sorry to be so blunt, but Soval certainly doesn't look like he's seen the inside of a gym too often."
"Soval is indeed fairly portly," his better half agreed. "This is why he will start physical exercises if he is really romantically interested in Hoshi. Every Vulcan will claim we are not prone to vanity, but it is not the truth."
"Who woulda thunk it," he said with a snicker. "I figured as much when you started to let your hair grow longer."
"I am quite aware of your displeasure with the traditional Vulcan haircut."
"So do you think something's up between them?"
"It is fairly obvious that Soval is quite comfortable in her presence. I do, however, think that it will take some time until he would really contemplate a new relationship. He has barely started to grieve for the other woman and it took drastic measures to enable him to do so."
"Well, you once started out being 'comfortable in my presence'," he pointed out with a wink.
"You were… persistent," she replied drily, but the raised eyebrow told him she really enjoyed the banter.
"So is Hoshi," he said. "There are only two men she would invite into her home – me or someone she's definitely interested in."
"Interesting."
=/\=
T'Pol walked outside to look what Charles was doing and saw him construct a peculiar pyramid over a sizeable pile of wood that once belonged to the dwelling's furniture. Since the wooden remains of the house's interior were broken down into small chunks, she knew this could only have been done by Soval as the young human female certainly lacked the strength to do that and she saw no axe or any other such device in the small backyard.
The small area was mainly covered with carefully groomed grass, although a circular portion around the intended fire site had been dug up. The whole area was surrounded by a high, thick hedge, most likely to ward off inquisitive looks from adjoining residences, which was a good thing considering the young woman's unique stance on what parts of her clothing were strictly necessary.
The construction Charles was working on explained the two packages that had just been delivered after a quick purchase via the house's sole terminal. Three large rods had been assembled and formed a pyramid above the pile of wood.
"Would you explain the purpose of the construction?" she asked.
"Suspended barbecue grill," Charles answered, obviously pleased with having had this idea. "I hope you won't mind if Hoshi and I put a few slabs of meat on it?"
"As long as it is sufficiently separated from the peculiar dishes you have prepared for me, I will not be offended."
"They're called shashlyks," he explained. "Normally there would mostly be chunks of meat on them, separated by bell peppers, onions and mushrooms, but yours are strictly vegetarian. I just switched the meat chunks for different variants of tofu."
"Considering you started to prepare them in our home yesterday, you seem to have foreseen this evening, which is illogical as we did not know about what happened and that there would be this happening until this morning?"
"I didn't know at the time," he said, and she could hear the slight frustration in his voice. "I'd originally planned to slap us a few veggie-burgers together, so I could at least eat something that looks like meat for a change."
"Why did you not speak to me about it?" she asked. "My intention is to help you lead a healthier lifestyle, not to make you disagreeable. I had assumed you had voluntarily switched to a vegetarian diet."
"He didn't say anything because he's Trip," someone said from behind and T'Pol saw that it was the house's resident, who had returned from delivering Soval and her mother to the Vulcan compound.
She looked at her, raising an eyebrow to request further clarification.
"I don't need that anymore," their young host declared and removed her shirt, a predictable move considering that the Ambassador was no longer in attendance. Looking over at Charles, T'Pol saw that he continued his work as if nothing out of the ordinary had transpired.
"As for this goofball over there," the young woman declared, pointing at Charles, "he wouldn't say anything if you developed a habit of stabbing him with a fork every night. At the height of summer, when it's really hot, I sometimes go completely naked. You would think he'd say something about the fact that it makes him uncomfortable..."
Again T'Pol's eyebrow rose. Another new facet of the strange relationship between the two humans had been added, although she could easily understand why Charles would become uncomfortable when presented with the uncovered primary sexual characteristics of a female he considered a surrogate sister. She could quite vividly remember his obvious bodily reaction when she had first presented herself to him completely undressed. It was not a reaction he would tolerate if caused by a sibling, biological or surrogate.
"Anyway," the young female continued. "No, he just stopped dropping by when it was hot. I had to guess it."
She could see that Charles was uncomfortable with such details being divulged, as his face turned a fairly dark shade of crimson.
"As a linguist, maybe you can influence his communication skills positively," T'Pol remarked. "Obviously they could use some… improvement."
"I'll leave you two to slag me off," Charles said, having completed his construction work. There was no malice in his voice, but she could easily hear that he was not entirely comfortable. On the way toward the house, he removed his shirt that showed the first stains of sweat.
"I'm using your shower, that okay?" he asked and she saw the young human nod in return.
"There's some shower gel in the bottom drawer and the towels are all fresh."
"You have bathing utensils in storage for Charles?" T'Pol asked, her possessiveness inflamed again by unbidden mental images of the two humans sharing a shower.
"Not for him specifically," her young host replied easily. "Men in general; you never know if you meet someone interesting, and I doubt any man would be fond of my lavender scented soap."
T'Pol remembered the concept of a 'one-night-stand' that the other woman had explained during their long talk about the intimate habits of humans. She was most likely referring to such an instance. It would also explain why there was a beverage in her storage that Charles claimed to be mainly drunk by males.
On the other hand it did not fit with Charles' explanation that his sister was rather discriminate in whom she would invite into her residence, claiming it would only be him or someone she was interested in. Perhaps it was a matter of how long this interest lasted?
"As both of you have removed your shirts – is this a requirement for the ritual?" T'Pol asked, indicating towards the pile of wood.
"I certainly wouldn't be wearing that blouse," the human female supplied, pointing at the garment. "It looks quite expensive and you wouldn't want to spoil it with a spark landing on it."
T'Pol started to unbutton the garment, but was stopped by a gesture from their host.
"I would suggest we go inside and I give you one of my old shirts. If I'm running about topless it won't make a difference for him, but seeing you there will most likely be a reaction and he'd be terribly embarrassed about that, especially in front of me."
She nodded her understanding and followed the human into the house.
=/\=
"Wow, these are good," Hoshi declared, nibbling the hot meat off the skewer. She knew Trip was not the shabbiest cook, but he had outdone himself with the barbecue material.
She saw the nod of agreement from her Vulcan guest, who was gorging on the vegetarian version of Trip's creative variant of shish kebab that according to his earlier explanation originated from the region of Turkish peoples. To her surprise, the Vulcan ate with her hands, although strictly speaking, Trip's 'significant other' was only touching the wooden skewer, nibbling the food off it.
"Ow!" she exclaimed when a drop of hot molten fat landed on her bare breast while she was observing the Vulcan. Quickly wiping the hot goo off, she glared at Trip, who was laughing good-naturedly at her self-inflicted misfortune.
"Maybe I should have kept the shirt on," she grumbled as the hot drop had left a fairly painful spot on her skin.
"You and keeping a shirt on," he cackled. "That's two things that don't belong in the same sentence."
Oh, it had been a while since they had bantered that way…
"Says the guy who followed me like a lost puppy through the desert when I ditched my shirt," she shot back, smiling at him.
"There were the other fifty guys, who followed us when you let them hang out," he replied, not missing a beat.
"You undressed during a Starfleet training mission?" T'Pol asked and it wasn't hard to detect the disbelief in her voice.
"Oh, you bet," Hoshi said, laughing at the memory. "It was like, I don't know, forty degrees centigrade when we did the survival test in Australia. I was sweating like a pig, so I just took off the shirt. What else would you do when you're hot? I was still putting on the sun screen when we noticed we had an audience."
"We?" the Vulcan asked back.
"I was teamed with Trip. For him it was nothing special. Hoshi without a shirt is the default setting for him, but all the other guys, at least those that didn't play poker, had only ever heard the rumors. Let's just say, I garnered a bit of male attention."
"I can imagine," the Vulcan replied drily, looking over the rim of her tea cup.
"We had loads of fun back then," Hoshi said. "But then he became the engine whizz-kid and he barely drops by anymore."
"He indeed puts too much emphasis on his work at times."
"You realize I'm sitting right here?" Trip asked.
"Drink your beer, buddy, and don't interrupt when the girls are talking," she shot back, grinning at his mock-upset face. She knew very well that he was loving every minute of it. Not only had it been some time since they had a chance to engage in their favorite rollicking banter, it was also obvious that T'Pol was growing more and more comfortable with their friendship. Many human women wouldn't have been able to make the transition so easily.
"It is reassuring to know that there will be someone with us who knows how to guide him through the desert," the Vulcan said and Hoshi could have sworn she heard an undercurrent of amusement.
=/\=
For the fifth time Ambassador Soval caught himself looking at the clock. Such restlessness was not only unusual for him, it was also considered unseemly by most Vulcans. Neither would it accelerate Hoshi-chan's arrival, which had been announced for 'late afternoon', a frustratingly inaccurate definition. Considering she had had her fire-ritual last night, it was to be suspected that she wanted to sleep longer than usual and had therefore reserved some latitude with her definition as to when she would arrive to help him select which scrolls and artifacts they would take on their mission to Vulcan.
"She fascinates you, does she not?" T'Les asked the one question he would not appreciate being asked at that point, but the wife of his deceased brother had always been able to tell his thoughts.
"There are instances when your talent of knowing my inner thoughts is most inconvenient," he said. "But to answer your question – yes she does."
"It is only to be expected," his guest said. "As the only one to have met the human called Asuka, I can tell that in many ways she resembles the one you once desired. Their exuberant personalities are much the same and the young woman is even more attractive."
"Evaluating outward appearance is an emotional indulgence," he said, noticing that it did not sound as convincing as he would have preferred. To his surprise he heard a snort, much like the ones he often heard from his unruly niece.
"Are you so skilled in deceiving yourself, Soval?" T'Les asked. "Of course Vulcans appreciate beauty, and that does not only involve artifacts or landscapes. Did you really think I would not notice your exhaustion? You were never known to use recreational facilities. Does it not originate in an attempt to improve your appearance that you obviously started physical exercises?"
"Your talent for deducing my thoughts can be infuriating," he admitted.
"Only if you think there is impropriety to your thoughts, Soval. Many Vulcans will detest your interest. I, as your relative, think it is a sign of healing. Never since the High Command interfered three decades ago have you shown any interest in a female. At one hundred and forty you are way too young to live your life alone."
"I am nearly six times her age," he noted, unsatisfied by the fact that he still failed at keeping his voice neutral when the young human was concerned.
"Age is but a number, Soval," she replied and Soval noticed the sincerity of her words. "Unlike T'Pol and Charles, your remaining life spans are comparable and you still have at least four decades left before you decline. It appears to me that you are seeking excuses for not following what your heart tells you."
"How can an internal organ tell me anything?" he asked, confused by T'Les' strange metaphor.
"It is a human saying," his conversation partner explained. "In our attempt to understand ourselves, we also study literature from other planets, including Earth. Humans often attribute romantic interest to their heart, most likely because the biological response to an attractive potential mate is an increase in heart rate. Does your heart beat faster if you encounter young Hoshi, Soval?"
"T'Les," he said sternly, lacking a better way to let her know that she was intruding on very private thoughts.
"It does," she noted drily, much to his chagrin.
=/\=
"Well, one thing is clear – tourism will never catch on on Vulcan," the young human said. "This Forge does sound like even more of a hell hole than Trip says, and he likes to exaggerate when it comes to deserts."
"It is indeed a very hostile environment," Soval agreed, distracted by the fact that – infuriatingly – his heart indeed started to beat faster in the company of the young human female. In fact the organ was working so hard, it was almost painful.
The young woman, who had occupied his thoughts for many days now, was looking over some historic scrolls, trying to create a rudimentary map based on the descriptions in the clan's oldest written records.
Suddenly the human pivoted on her chair and looked him straight in the eyes.
"How long will you make me wait?" she demanded, confusing him. Before he could formulate a reply, the young woman threw her arms around his neck and before he knew what hit him, he felt the sensation of someone else's lips against his own. It was the first time he had experienced that ritual in over three decades.
Surprisingly, he still remembered the technique that Asuka-chan had once taught him, and if the satisfied humming of the diminutive female in his arms was any indication, he was performing it in a satisfactory manner. He himself, however, was not even remotely able to describe the torrent of emotions the gesture stirred in him.
When their lips parted, both of them were breathing heavily, their faces flushed in their respective species' blood color. Her face was flushed pink and Soval was sure that he was 'looking like a pot-plant' – that was how Asuka-chan often described his complexion after intimate contact.
He stared at the young woman.
"If you apologize now, I'm going to start crying and slap you," Hoshi said and Soval could not fight what was coming next – for the first time in his adult life, he laughed. His laughter was mixed with tears as both joy and grief gripped him. Unable to control this reaction, he surrendered to the embrace of the young human as he tried to control himself.
=/\=
"Most astonishing, Tela'at," T'Pol said, deliberately letting some of her amusement seep into her voice when she saw the Ambassador to Earth exercising strenuously in the gym of the Vulcan Embassy. Despite the rather cool temperature, the older Vulcan was sweating profusely. "I take it Hoshi has taken the initiative?"
"Is it everybody's favorite pastime to discuss my private life?" he asked back in between breaths, and she noted with interest that he did not see any reason to stop his exercise.
"Only for those who wish that you find contentment in it," she replied. "I have seen enough interaction between Hoshi and her 'brother' Charles to know that she would not wait for you to act on your emotions. And seeing that you are working fairly hard for the second consecutive day…"
Her uncle sat up, breathing heavily. "Is there any advice you can offer?"
"With Hoshi there is only one piece of advice," T'Pol explained. "Expect the unexpected, and you might want to prepare controlling your biological reactions. She does not have a habit of wearing too much clothing in her home."
She had to fight the impulse to laugh at her En'ahr'at's blank look.
"Now that she has made her intentions known, I doubt she will be inclined to forego her habit of not wearing a shirt in the sanctity of her home."
"She does not know what such a behavior would do to a Vulcan male, does she?"
"As far as I have come to know her, she would very much welcome the reaction," T'Pol noted drily. "As you asked for advice, I would advise that you be in peak condition if you are alone with her."
With that she left the gym, leaving a rather stunned relative behind.