Disclaimer: I don't own nuttin', not no way, not no how.

Authors' Note: I'm using the symbol "©" for credits (yes, I know it's the copyright symbol—so sue me (har, har, har) ;-), so when you see F©3000, for instance, that's 3000 Federation credits.

Chapter 10: Afterparty

Spock, Giotto, Nyota, Scotty, Christine and Bones had settled comfortably in a small circle around a low table, the half-Vulcan mostly listening while the other five bantered , when Jim walked into the officers' lounge holding something behind his back. As the conversation momentarily stilled, he said, "Scotty, go get five of the stemware glasses and hand 'em round. I've got two here that Spock and I will use."

Still keeping his hands behind his back, he waited while the engineer did as he asked. And then…and then he brought out his surprise with a crowing "Ta da!" Scotty gasped out loud when he saw what Jim had in his hands, recognizing the wooden box with the distinctive stag's head and the number 85 burned into the front panel, while Giotto's eyes went wide. The other four looked at each other in slight confusion as Jim worked the box open and removed two stemware glasses with a thistle design cut into them; he gave one to Spock and set the other down on the table for his own use. He then gently extracted a bottle from the box and held it out for their inspection.

It was a 70 cl decanter of The Glenlivet single-malt Scotch whisky, and it was one from a very special limited release for their 400th anniversary in 2224. Still made on Earth in the traditional way at the Glenlivet distillery near Ballindalloch, Scotland, the precious amber liquid had been put into an oak first-fill sherry butt by Gordon & Macphail when it was distilled in 2139.

This family-owned business, now under the guidance of the 12th and 13th generation of Urquhart's, had been bottling the world's finest single-malt and blended Scotch whiskies since 1895, and they understood the importance of proper aging. They had let this whisky mature for 85 years, and then in 2224, they had bottled it up at cask strength (45.9% alcohol) in hand-blown crystal decanters in the traditional tear-drop shape they used for their extra-special releases. Each one had a British Hallmarks silver stopper and came seated in a sterling silver base, all packed up in a hand-crafted wooden box, along with two stemware glasses. Cut into the widest part of the drop, the decanter bore the same thistle design as the glasses, as it was the symbol of the Glenlivet Distillery. This was now the oldest single malt ever bottled, beating their own previous record of 75 years set in 2124, for The Glenlivet's 300th anniversary, and it promised to be absolutely extraordinary.

Scotty looked as if he were preparing to be transported into ecstasy, Giotto whistled, and Bones gaped speechless, while Christine laughed and clapped her hands. Spock and Nyota looked at each other, and then she shrugged as if to say, "Must be pretty special, but I have no idea why."

Bones then managed to say, "Where did you get that?"

Jim said, "Nuh nuh; no questions yet. First, I'm going to explain to Spock how to properly sip this drink while Scotty," he passed the bottle into the chief engineer's reverent hands, "opens this bottle of 85 year old whisky," just in case anyone had missed how truly special this was, "and then we'll have a measure as we toast around the table. Questions can come after that." He then took the empty chair between Bones and Spock.

Scotty said, "Ach, Cap'n, Ah'm honored," as he looked worshipfully at the bottle.

The captain went on, "And Scotty, you just concentrate on opening that bottle and otherwise keep out of this. If you've got different advice, you can tell him later on your own," but Scotty was already in the first stages of transport and barely heard him. The Scotsman answered him with a grunt as he split the seal.

Jim smiled indulgently at his chief engineer and then turned to his first officer and asked, "Now, Spock, am I right that you've never had whisky before?"

The half-Vulcan answered, "That is correct, Jim."

His friend said, "Thought as much. Well, I should warn you this is probably the very best whisky you'll ever have in your entire life, so maybe that's a little unfair, starting you out at the pinnacle, but, there ya go. Sometimes that's just what happens. Anyway, here's what you want to do. First, you hold the glass up to admire that beautiful amber color and then you bring it to your nose and swirl it around so you can inhale the scent; that's called 'the nose'. Some people say you should smell it for 30 minutes, but I think Scotty would go stark raving mad if I made him wait that long, so we'll shorten that step. Just smell it, that'll be enough.

"After that, you take a small sip—and I really do mean small; you don't want to start out with too much, especially since you've never had this before and you don't know what to expect—and you hold it on your tongue for a couple of seconds to taste all the various flavors; that's called 'the palate'. It's going to burn, but that's ok, it's worth a little discomfort. And then you swirl it around your mouth to get the inside coated. Then, and only then, do you swallow and immediately after that, you open your mouth and draw in a breath while all those alcohol vapors are still in there, and that takes 'em straight to your brain."

Spock replied, "Jim, you are aware that I will not become intoxicated from the alcohol, regardless of how quickly the vapors reach my brain?"

"Yeah, I know, Spock, but it's part of the whole experience! And I'd think as a scientist, you'd want to observe the entire thing from start to finish." Spock inclined his head in assent. Jim continued, "Speaking of which, the last step is to focus on the flavors that remain after you've swallowed; that's called, appropriately, 'the finish'. So that's the process, and while it won't be the same for you, it'll get us humans on the way to feeling nice and relaxed. But remember, you'll get your turn at intoxicants with the chocolate."

Scotty had finished opening the bottle and was simply admiring it. But now he and Giotto stared at Jim and asked in unison, "Huh?" while Nyota, Bones, and Christine nodded knowingly.

The captain explained, "Chocolate's an intoxicant for Vulcans. Spock's never had it before, either, but I'm pretty sure he's going to really like it, so after this you'll have to watch out and keep him from finding your Ghirardelli stash." He wondered briefly how it was that Nyota had never gotten Spock to try chocolate before, but considering how repressed the half-Vulcan generally was (at least until recently), maybe he shouldn't be so surprised. Perhaps the man thought having an illicit relationship with her was enough risk to run at one time without adding chocolate to the mix; maybe someday he would ask one of them.

He noticed that Spock was now fixing him with a mock-stern look as he intoned, "Jim, you know I would not do that. No, I would find some new piece of dietary advice on the Web proving that chocolate is harmful to humans serving on space ships—this should not be difficult, for as you well know, one can find every conceivable bit of advice for every possible situation on the Web—and convince you all to turn it over to me. Purely for safe keeping, of course." They all laughed, as he intended, with Jim laughing the loudest.

Giotto had listened appreciatively to Jim's advice and as the latest round of laughter died down, he chimed in, "Now Jim, don't forget to tell him about the whole toasting thing; that's a big part of it," getting them back on track.

Jim shifted his attention to the security chief and said, "Oh yeah! Thanks, Cupcake; you're right, he probably wouldn't know about that either." He turned to Spock again and asked, "Have you ever, err…done something like this before, toasted an occasion?"

While he was growing up, Spock had often been frustrated with the illogical ambiguities of Terranglo, but he had recently begun to appreciate the humorous possibilities such things presented. He now looked back at his captain with a deadpan expression and answered in apparent seriousness, "No, Jim, I do not believe I have ever had that opportunity." A slight pause, then, "What is the appropriate toaster setting for 'occasion'?" smoothly referencing the ancient appliance still in daily use in many households.

The short silence that followed Spock's question was soon shattered by the laughter spilling from his friends. He looked on with one corner of his mouth quirked up ever so slightly.

After he'd regained control of himself, Jim swatted the half-Vulcan on the arm and exclaimed, "Hey, no fair! You haven't even had any of that chocolate yet, and you've already set me up as the straight man?"

Spock did not miss a beat as he replied, "Jim, you have only yourself to blame. I can hardly be held responsible if you hand me the perfect line yourself," while his look said, "Surely you cannot expect me to pass up an opportunity to make you laugh!"

Everyone else laughed again as Jim mock-huffed at him, though he had a very fond expression on his face as he said, "Sheesh, what am I going to do with you?!"

There was yet more laugher at this, and Giotto was tempted to say, "Well, you could kiss him," but he held his peace. As he glanced at Nyota, he saw that she was now smirking a little, and he thought she was likely thinking something along those lines herself (she was).

Perhaps sensing that there was now a slightly charged atmosphere in the room, Jim cleared his throat and said, "Continuing right along…" to get them back on track. He then said, "Anyway, what we do after everyone has a measure, we all hold up our glasses like so," he demonstrated with his empty glass," So one of us will say, 'Here's to something or other,' and everybody says, 'Hear, hear!' in response, and then we touch our glasses together before taking a sip of the whisky. Then a few minutes later, someone else will propose a toast. We could just go around the circle here, and you could be last, if you want to do it, too. By then you'd have some examples to go on."

"Thank you for the explanation of 'toasting', Jim; I will seriously consider it," Spock replied.

Jim nodded and said, "OK, good. Now, think your Vulcan intellect can handle that whole launch sequence I gave you?"

Spock replied, "Jim, I built rockets as a child. And although the sequence of steps involved in properly consuming this beverage in the company of friends is more complex than I had anticipated, I believe those childhood experiences will indeed have adequately prepared me to 'handle it'," somehow managing to put air-quotes around those last two words. He paused slightly and then continued, "Provided I will not be required to mend any fences afterward," fully aware of the double meaning of mending fences.

The captain felt his heart swell as he realized that Spock had just called them all his friends—the half-Vulcan had come so far in such a short time—and he smiled at the in-joke the two of them now shared. He replied, "No, we already took care of anything like that," with a glance that encompassed both his first officer and the communications officer.

Nyota blushed slightly though she still smiled in return, but then she frowned quizzically as her brain processed the words "rockets" and "child" and somehow made the connection between "rockets" and "fences." She spoke for everyone else there when she said, "Wait…what? You never told me anything about rockets!" But then before Spock could enlighten her, she amended, "But do I really want to know? It was probably really dangerous…"

The captain laughed and replied, "Well, sure—it's what boys do! But it's a great story, and I think you'd enjoy it if he can be induced to tell it again later," and Spock nodded his assent.

Noticing that Scotty was starting to squirm with anticipation, Jim said, "Alright then, let's get this show on the road!" He took the bottle from the chief engineer and poured them all a measure. He waited a moment to let them admire the sight and experience the smell of the whisky, and then he held his glass aloft while everyone including Spock followed suit, and he said, "To the very best ship and the very best crew that has ever been, to the Enterprise and to all of you, my dear friends, somehow all of us miraculously together…and to friendship!"

They all said "Hear, hear!" at that and carefully touched their glasses together, not wanting to risk spilling any, before everyone tool a sip. The humans' eyes all went wide, and there were reverent murmurs of "oh my gods," and "wow" and similar soft exclamations, while Scotty whispered something incomprehensible in Gaelic.

Spock did as Jim had instructed, pausing to admire the dark amber liquid and then picking up hints of vanilla and toffee along with a slightly spicy smokiness with his nose before taking a small sip. He held the whisky on his tongue before swirling it around his mouth. Jim was right—it did burn a bit, but he pushed that to the background of his awareness while he concentrated on examining the flavors; there was a distinct citrusy flavor, dominated by an orangey taste, and there was an appley sweetness along with the vanilla and smoky-spicy notes. He then swallowed and breathed in through his mouth, the vapors doing interesting things to his sinuses. He almost coughed when the fiery liquid rolled over his tongue and slid down his throat, and he was glad he had only taken a very small sip.

The first officer savored the miniscule amount remaining in his mouth. There was a lingering taste of smoky apples, along with something he suspected was the taste of the oak butt, and a flavor he could not identify. He watched the others enjoying the very special beverage, and while he noted that they all appeared to appreciate it, Scotty had a look of complete ecstasy on his face.

They went around the table, everyone offering a toast in their turn. Bones said, "To hang-over remedies, and to friendship!"

Christine's turn came, and she said, "To good health, and to friendship!"

Next, it was Scotty's turn, and he toasted the beverage itself with "To uisge beatha,"—the Scottish Gaelic for whisky, the "water of life"—followed closely by, "And to friendship!"

Here they paused while Jim filled empty glasses for Bones, Scotty, Giotto, and himself, while the others were still nursing their first measure.

Nyota looked at Jim and blushed a little as she proposed, "To second chances, and to friendship!" He smiled back at her very warmly, and she breathed a silent "Thank you" to whatever force or circumstance had allowed her to share this moment.

Giotto was next, saying, "To birthdays, and to friendship!"

There was another pause while Jim poured another measure for Christine, Nyota and Spock.

Now it was the first officer's turn to propose a toast. He had been wondering what he should say as they worked their way around the table, and then it occurred to him that Giotto had handed him the perfect line. He said, "And to surprises…and to friendship," as his gaze settled on Jim, who looked back at him with a smile like the sun, and he suddenly felt almost elated. There! He had done it. He had participated in a human social occasion that was completely new to him, and he had apparently done alright.

As with all the other times, everyone said, "Hear, hear!" enthusiastically, clinked their glasses together, and took another drink. But in addition to the normal sense of camaraderie, they all seemed to realize that something very special had just taken place. The Vulcan first officer had joined in with them in a way he never had before, and he seemed relaxed and at ease. Previously, if he had even agreed to attend a gathering like this, he would have been sitting stiff and uncomfortable, forcing himself to endure the occasion until he could escape back to the world of duty and work. And though the captain thought all the credit for Spock's new behavior was due to the man himself, everyone else knew it was largely due to Jim, encouraging his friend and coaxed him to come out of his shell to the point where he could sit with them, simply content to enjoy their company.

After the toasting was done, they talked lazily, sipping from their glasses and simply savoring the moment, before Bones said, "OK, Jim; spill it. This is by far the bestest, smoothest whisky I've ever had or am ever likely to have again. How did you manage to get a hold of something this fine?"

Jim shifted in his chair a little uncomfortably and replied, "You remember that time in our second year when I asked to borrow F©3,000 from you?"

Bones said, "Yeah…" He thought back, had Jim ever finished repaying him? Maybe…

Jim went on, "And do you remember that liquor store that was sort of close to the Academy, the one that made a specialty of having stuff no other place had?"

Bones again said, "Yeah…"

His friend took a deep breath and finished, "This is what I bought."

"YOU WHAT?!" the doctor exploded. It hadn't been a good time for Jim to hit him up for a loan, that time his friend had gotten on his knees and literally begged Bones to let him have the credits, no questions asked. So of course he had. What else could he do? And this was what he'd used if for?! Hmm, if the sneaky bastard hadn't actually paid all of it back, there would be hell to pay…with interest! Oh, well, at least he got to drink some of the whisky.

Nyota asked, "F©3,000 seems like a lot for a bottle of whisky, I don't care how rare or good it is."

Christine said, "It is good, by far the best I've ever had, too, but still…"

Spock looked dubious but said nothing. He had nothing to compare this whisky to and did not feel qualified to give an opinion. True, the price did seem excessive, but if one perhaps took into account the special qualities gained through the prolonged aging…well, perhaps.

Giotto almost sputtered, "No, no, you guys have got it all wrong! That's an incredibly cheap price for that bottle! How did you manage it, Jim? Did you turn on the patented Kirk Charm?"

Scotty was working his jaw in shocked silence, unable to say a word or utter a sound, but he looked at Giotto and nodded his agreement—finally someone was asking the right question!

The captain replied, "I didn't, uh…I mean I didn't get it for F©3,000; it was more than that; err…actually, a lot more."

Bones narrowed his eyes. "How much more?"

Jim looked somewhere between awed and embarrassed—had he really done this? Yes, yes he had—and he answered, "Umm, F©15,000."

A stunned silence followed Jim's admission.

The doctor found his voice first. "I'm really glad I didn't know that before! Hell, I'd of been scared to drink it!" He paused just a moment and then said, "But how the hell did you get so many credits? What did you do, rob a bank or something?" he asked indignantly.

The captain pretended to be indignant in return. He drew himself up to his full height, frowned and said in a commanding tone, "Now see here, sirruh! If you want any more of this whisky, you will cease casting aspersions upon my character immediately and forthwith, sirruh!" But he couldn't sustain it, and the frown quickly turned into a grin and he amended, "Yeah, actually, it's a fair question. The fact is, I'd gotten an inheritance from a distant cousin. Roselyn—you remember Roselyn, don't you Bones?"

Bones shuddered and said, "How could I forget? She was beautiful…" Jim interrupted with, "And great in the sack," which caused Bones to punch him on the shoulder and glare at him before continuing, "But my gods!" He glanced around the circle and explained for the benefit of the others, "I called her 'The Lamprey' because she was a parasite who would suck the life out of any man—or woman, for that matter." The doctor looked back at Jim and said, "Say, I just put something together—you guys broke up about the same time you borrowed those credits from me, didn't you?"

Jim answered, "Yeah, and if you're wondering if the two incidents were related, well, they were…"

Bones muttered, "I should have known."

"But probably not in the way you think," the captain continued. He paused for a moment and then went on, "I found out about this inheritance when you were gone from campus for a while, something to do with school for you, some week-long class or other someplace—anyway, I let it slip to Roselyn in a moment of weakness, probably because I just had to tell somebody, and she was there. And of course she thought I should spend it on her. She warted me about it for days, trying to get me to buy her this really extravagant necklace, or some such thing, but I didn't want to.

"The day the credits were deposited in my account, I'd taken her out to lunch, and she started up again about the necklace, or whatever. So then we had this really huge fight right there in the restaurant. She shouted something like, 'Well fine! See if I care! Just blow the credits on something totally stupid, why don't you!' So I said, 'Fine! I will!" and we then stormed off in opposite directions.

"Now, this restaurant happened to be really close to that liquor store I mentioned earlier, so on impulse, I went in, thinking it would serve her right if I just blew the whole thing on a bunch of really expensive alcohol. The store manager had just put out this bottle; it had just been released for sale that morning. See, the store also had a pawn-broker's license so they could buy stuff like this—pre-owned so to speak—rather than just get stuff from regular distributors. Anyway, this bottle of The Glenlivet had been unearthed from somebody's attic where it had been languishing since 2224, no doubt put by for safe keeping. The manager had bought it on the spot and sent in the purchase report to the San Francisco PD, and then had waited the required 30 days to make sure it didn't turn up in a police report as being stolen.

"It was ready to go out that morning. As you can imagine, I felt incredibly lucky to be the first customer to see that bottle. And I'll never forget it: the store manager had made this little hand-written sign in calligraphy on parchment, the whole bit, telling all about it, and the ink was still wet." He chuckled, "I still have that sign, too, believe it or not. Anyway, the price he put on it was F©21,000, but I managed to talk him down to F©18,000.

"Course, that still left me F©3000 short, and I was not about to give up on buying that bottle—I mean, what better way to totally piss Roselyn off, and get some killer whisky,right? So I put down a non-refundable deposit of F©5000 to show I was serious and headed back to campus to beg, borrow or steal the last F©3000. I had this mad plan to try to borrow F©100 from 30 people or F©300 from 10 people, or something like that, but I decided to stop by our room first. And you were back by then, and well…you know the rest." He stopped, really hoping that Bones wouldn't go on to tell them about the begging-on-his-knees bit.

The doctor snorted, "OK, so that explains how you were able to afford it, but where'd you keep it? I'm sure I knew all of your hiding places in our room…"

Jim laughed, "Yeah, I'm sure you did, too, and that's a big part of why I rented a safety deposit box at a bank to keep it in! That, plus, I had to keep it safe from Roselyn. See, when I got back from buying that bottle, she was waiting to ambush me in the lobby of our dorm, I suppose to have another go at getting me to buy her that necklace, or whatever. So I flaunted the bottle in her face, and when she screamed at me for buying it, I said something along the lines of, 'Well, you told me to!'

"That did it. It did the trick and got her to break up with me—she was one of those people who, if you tried to leave them, would never let you go, but if they decided to leave, nothing on earth would keep them—but I could tell by the way she was looking at me holding that bottle that she would break into our room and smash it if she could find it, so I decided to remove it from danger.

"And it turns out I'd done the right thing because when I got back from classes three days later, the room was a total disaster. Even though I knew who did it, or thought I did, I didn't report it to campus security because there was no proof. Plus I didn't want to take the time to do that; it was a long hike over to the security office, and I'd have had to spend a bunch of time filling out a report, and have Security come to our room, and shit like that. You'd been gone again for a couple of days, some follow-up to the thing you'd gone away for earlier, but you were due back any moment, and I had to get everything cleaned up and more-or-less put away before you got back."

Bones interjected, "So that's why a bunch of my stuff was all out of place! You said you'd done it as a prank, you scoundrel!"

Jim looked slightly chagrinned at that and said, "Yeah, I pretty much had to say that, otherwise, I'd have had to tell you about the bottle, cuz I knew you would want to help me drink it immediately. And…well, I don't know…somehow I didn't want to, I wanted to save it for some really special occasion. And drinking it up out of spite over an ex-girlfriend didn't seem like the way to appreciate 85 year old whisky, so I stashed it away and just left it in that bank box til I was getting stuff together for this voyage. And now, I'm glad I didn't drink it right then, and I'm glad the whole thing worked out the way it did because not only do I not have Roselyn in my life, but I do have this fabulous bottle of whisky to share with my friends on this very special occasion. And you know what? That bottle was worth every single credit."

The captain was quiet then, still astounded at himself for being able to actually save something like this for a truly special occasion.

Spock was looking at him speculatively, reevaluating what he thought he knew about his friend. Spending F©18,000 on a bottle of something that would be gone in one evening when shared among this many people…well, that was something he would expect of Jim Kirk. But then instead of drinking it immediately, the man had kept the bottle for years, and that was definitely something he would not expect of Jim Kirk. Apparently, in with the impulsiveness was also a large amount of impulse control.

The half-Vulcan wondered how many more layers there were to his friend, how many other hidden depths. He suddenly felt that even a lifetime would not be long enough to find out everything there was to know about Jim, and he felt very fortunate to have the opportunity to be with him now, serving by his side. He was completely aware that this happy situation could change at any moment, for all of life was uncertain—no one knew that better than he—but he would take it gratefully, for as long as it lasted.

His reverie was interrupted by Bones snorting again and saying, "Chekov's 18th counts as a very special occasion? Especially when he's not even here?"

Jim laughed and answered, "Well, he's got his own special alcohol, his 'wodka', and he's probably having more fun right where he is than he would be having with us, and that goes for Sulu, too." He paused, his heart momentarily too full for words, and then he said, "No, what I mean is that I'm here with you, my friends, all here together…"

He paused and looked at each of them in turn, his gaze lingering on Nyota and then he let his eyes rest on the half-Vulcan as he finished, "And it's Spock's first surprise party ever, to say nothing of being the person who actually brought the lamb to the slaughter, so to speak, and he did a great job. And he's going to try chocolate for the first time. So all that feels pretty special to me…" he trailed off. He realized that most of his reasons for pulling this bottle out now had to do with his first officer, but well, there it was; this was probably the most special occasion he was likely to run into in the near future.

Jim was busy gazing at Spock, who had flushed slightly from the attention, and he didn't see the glance that passed between Nyota and Giotto, nor notice Bones giving him an odd look through narrowed eyes. Only Scotty and Christine seemed oblivious, smiling shyly at each other as they were.

Before the sudden quiet became uncomfortable, Nyota said, "Jim, it's incredibly sweet of you to want to share this with us, but I have to ask, why was it so very expensive? You could have bought dozens of bottles of very good whisky for what you paid for that one!"

Jim spread out his hands and said, "Well, Ny-chan, they didn't make very many bottles—just 400, I think?" He looked at Giotto for confirmation.

The security chief nodded and said, "Yeah, it was 400 total; 150 of the 70 cl size and 250 of the 20 cl."

The captain said, "Thanks, Cupcake; that makes sense, what with its being the 400th anniversary of the distillery and all." He continued, "And it's stuff that was in their inventory for 85 years. Now, everyone knows that making whisky isn't like making widgets of some type, cuz all of it has to age for some period of time before it's even drinkable, but to let it sit for this length of time…well, that's what makes it so completely extraordinary. And the amazing flavor and smoothness and the price all reflect that. Plus, all that time, the original volume was shrinking due to some evaporation—this is called 'the angels' share'—so they ended up with less than they started with. But just think of it: here's this distillery and this bottler, they've got the confidence that they'll still be around to sell stuff that was first put into casks all those years ago…" he trailed off and was quiet for a moment. He continued sounding slightly awed, "Now that's ballsy, that kind of thinking. That's real confidence!"

Giotto and Scotty nodded agreement while the others looked duly impressed. Nyota laughed and said, "Well, I 'get it' now as much as I'm ever going to, I guess. And even though I don't think I can relate to this the way you guys do, I can still thank you for sharing it. It was amazing, and I'm feeling really lucky right now…"

Jim gave her a fond smile and said, "Me, too."

Bones grinned at them all—for once not complaining about anything—and he said, "Chekov should have an 18th birthday more often!" to general laughter. Giotto then got Spock to retell the rocket-and-the-fence story, which left Nyota and Christine shaking their heads at each other while the men all nodded in appreciation and understanding, and Scotty regaled the company with a dangerous stunt from his youth involving motorcycle ice racing.

After that, general conversation started up among the humans—their current mission, the birthday party they had come from, the latest technology gee-whizzes—and Spock finally decided to try some of the chocolate. He reached for the bowl that Jim had set on a small table in their midst and examined a piece. It was quite unremarkable-looking, very dark, as Jim had promised, with a small amount of the lighter brown dusting that often appears on the surface of dark chocolate. The piece was a small round disk of about 2 cm in diameter, with one flat side and one somewhat domed side. After briefly holding it to his nose, he put it in his mouth, and suddenly his eyes flew wide (at least, for a Vulcan) as it began to melt on his tongue, and he almost started as he now realized what that unidentifiable flavor had been in the whisky: it was notes of chocolate.

Unbeknownst to Spock, Jim had been watching for this moment, and the captain let the conversation just go on around him as he focused his attention on the half-Vulcan, wanting to share in this next new experience for his friend. He felt almost impossibly gratified to see Spock's eyes go considerably wider than ever before. Sensing Jim's gaze on him, the first officer looked over at the captain and nodded appreciatively. He took another piece of chocolate and then leaned back in the chair with his eyes closed to concentrate fully on experiencing this amazing new flavor—bitter and sweet and smoky all at the same time—and the rather delightfully creamy texture of the chocolate on his tongue.

When Spock opened his eyes, Jim was still looking at him with an insanely huge grin on his face, and then the captain had a sudden inspiration. Spock's glass was on the table in front of him, still holding a small amount of the whisky. Jim pointed at it and said, "You should try them together." Spock's eyes widened again at the idea, and he decided he would. He popped another piece of the chocolate into his mouth and let it melt part-way before tipping the rest of the whisky onto his tongue. As the flavors blended together, his eyes widened further in complete amazement, and he felt a slight rush as the alcohol carried the intoxicating elements of the chocolate straight to his brain.

He then looked over at his captain and said, "Jim, words fail me in attempting to describe this experience." His friend started grinning at him again, and he paused a moment before saying, "However, if I were you, I believe I would say that perhaps the phrase, 'Oh, my gods!' would express it best," and Jim's face just about split in half.

Bones, who had turned to listen to them, guffawed and said, "No, if you were Jim, you would have said, 'Oh, my fucking gods!', and you would have then stuffed half of that chocolate in your mouth and followed it with everything that's left in that bottle."

"Hey!" Jim protested, "I wouldn't do that! That thar is sippin' whisky!" He considered though and amended, "Well, maybe a quarter of the chocolate and a healthy swig…"

There was general laughter from the humans, while Spock just took it all in. Feeling about as pleased as he ever had in his entire life, Jim focused again on the resumed conversation, which had moved on to an experimental software program called HoloReal (a play on both "wholly real" and "hollow real(ity)") that was supposed to provide the best ever virtual reality experience, purportedly almost indistinguishable from real reality. The time passed pleasantly as the conversation flowed on to yet other topics, and Jim shared out the rest of the bottle.

They were all nicely relaxed when Jim looked at Giotto and Nyota and said, "Pretty different from the last time the three of us were all in the same bar, huh?"

Thinking back to the Shipyard Bar in Iowa, Giotto grinned—all had been forgiven long ago—and answered, "Yeah, as fun as it was smashing you in the face, I really prefer this. Much better ambience, to say nothing of the alcohol. Easier on the hands, too."

Nyota looked like she was considering his statement as she said, "I can't speak to the hands or the face-smashing bit, but otherwise, yeah, I prefer this, too," before falling silent for just a moment. She had consumed more alcohol than was normal for her—one glass of wine was usually her limit, but tonight she had had two shots of vodka and close to two measures of the whisky—and her inhibitions had been lowered considerably. When she spoke again, it was to come out with, "Ya know Jim, when I accused you of having sex with farm animals, well…I didn't really think you had a stump-broke cow."

The assembled company, Spock included, simply stared at her in collective open-mouthed shock before everyone but the half-Vulcan erupted into helpless laughter, and even he was fighting to keep his expression under control. Jim was finally able to sputter, "Well, thanks! You're right, I didn't! But how the hell do you even know something like that?!"

She smiled serenely, openly pleased at the ruckus she had caused—after all, one couldn't be lady-like one's whole life—and said sweetly, "Well what do you expect? I am a communications officer, after all! I have to know these things."

Jim laughed and said, "So that's the kind of stuff they were teaching you guys?! If only I had known, maybe I would have gone into communications instead of taking the command track."

Nyota answered, "It's just as well you didn't. I'm not sure the program could have survived you."

Jim's response was to stick his tongue out at her.

She relented then and said, "No actually, I learned it from this guy who worked at the same place that I did the summer before I went to the Academy. He was from the country and had all kinds of interesting stories."

Christine was finally not able to contain her curiosity any longer and blurted out, "But what is that anyway?" Giotto and Bones had been able to guess, and Scotty was snickering behind his hand. Comprehension was dawning on Spock, too, and there was the oddest expression Jim had ever seen on his face, lurking around his eyes.

The captain said, "Ny-chan, I'm going to let you field that one."

"Well, OK. I never thought you'd be shy about something like this, but I guess appearances can be deceiving." She gave him a wicked grin and went on, "Yes, lady and gentlemen, under that cocky exterior beats a heart as pure as the driven slush…" After the laughter from that died down, she explained, "Well, you know that sometimes those farm boys can get pretty, umm…lonely. And cows are, well, umm…shall we say, taller in certain areas of their anatomy than are people. And they can be trained to back up to a stump, and if the farm boy stands on it…well, I think you can guess the rest on your own."

As Christine finally understood, she said, "Oh…Oh…Oh! OK, that's it! No more alcohol for you tonight, missy!" Nyota grinned back at her and then threw her head back and laughed at their collective shock, not embarrassed in the slightest.

Spock had been staring at Nyota the whole time with his mouth slightly open. He finally shook his head and managed to regain his normal, neutral expression. Once again he reflected that it was possible to know a human person for years and still be absolutely astonished by something that came out of their mouth.

Before things could devolve further into more potentially embarrassing topics, Jim decided to shift the focus of the conversation, and he said, "Not to change the subject or anything…" He then turned to his first officer and asked, "Spock, I was wondering, did everything go OK getting Chekov to the party? He looked kind of flustered there at first." He didn't mention how flustered Spock himself had been.

The half-Vulcan replied, "After our session performing the helm control check, I had made the mistake of saying I wanted to discuss the results with Mr. Sulu in the recreation room. Mr. Chekov then declined to accompany me there." When Jim , Sulu and he were plotting how to delay the ensign, he had initially been reluctant to agree to go with the young man to the recreation room. At the time, he had ascribed his hesitation to the fact that he very rarely went there on his own, but now he had to wonder if that mysterious sense humans called intuition had been at work, trying to warn him that accompanying Chekov would be a mistake. He did not understand such feelings—they were not logical—but he could not deny that they were there. It had been an error to ignore those feelings at the plotting session, and he resolved to pay closer attention when "his gut" was trying to tell him something in the future.

Jim looked chagrinned and said, "Oops! Sorry, Spock, I didn't think of that when I talked you into going with him to make sure he got there. Sounds like it almost backfired."

"If by 'almost backfired' you mean that I was required to over-ride his voice command in the turbolift and then drag him to the door of the recreation room to avoid ruining the surprise, then, yes, it is safe to say that that part of your scheme 'almost backfired'." He then described the ensign's mounting frustration at his incredibly meticulous commander on the bridge, their awkward exchange in the turbolift, and then the young man's spluttering struggle as he was being lugged down the corridor by his stern-faced Vulcan superior officer, all in the name of good fun. The room erupted into more laughter as everyone called up a mental image of the scene the first officer had just described. Giotto made a note to himself to check out the security recordings of the incident, purely for his own edification as security chief, of course.

The half-Vulcan tried to fix his captain with a dark gaze, but the chocolate in his system was making him see the truly humorous aspects of the whole situation, so it was hard for him to maintain any real irritation over the episode. But then it also occurred to him that the affair presented him with a real opportunity. He came very close to actually smiling as he said, "But that is alright, Jim. I will find an appropriate occasion to 'pay you back', as the saying goes, when you least expect it."

Jim managed to look completely pleased to find out that his first officer had a sense of mischief and completely terrified at the same time…because he now knew his first officer had a sense of mischief. He asked, "Is it too late to plead hopeless stupidity, or something?"

Spock quipped back, "To do that, one would be required to be both hopeless and stupid, and as you are neither, I cannot 'let you off the hook' so easily." Jim was about to protest when his friend added, "However, I cannot expect you to be omniscient, no matter what you expect of yourself," which got a "Ha, ha; very funny" from Jim, before the first officer continued, "So perhaps I should 'let this one slide'." (He was getting very good at putting idiomatic phrases in air quotes, if he did say so himself.)

He glanced around the table and said "Forgive me, Doctor, but I need to borrow your voice for a moment." He then drawled in an almost perfect imitation of Bones, "What do y'all think? Forgiveness…or retaliation?" He did this so he could justify his use of what had become his favorite colloquial contraction; it was permissible, as he was merely quoting the doctor.

Even Bones laughed at that, and they all voiced their opinions. As several of them held both views simultaneously, in the end Spock said he would be forced to make up his own mind when each possible circumstance for paying Jim back presented itself.

When Jim objected with, "Hey! How can I ever relax, knowing you might do something to me at any moment?!" Spock replied, his eyes twinkling with open amusement, "As that is an accurate reflection of my own state of being on this ship, we are now even," continuing after a very slight pause, "Though one could argue that we are, instead, odd," once again using the ambiguities of Terranglo to elicit laughter from the assembled company. Jim grinned at him and reached toward him, pausing for a moment as the half-Vulcan offered a tiny nod, and then the captain gave his first officer's shoulder a friendly squeeze before releasing him.

Giotto noticed their exchange and suddenly, something he had seen pass between the two of them at the party made sense. He had been a bit puzzled by the little nod that Spock had directed at the captain before the man laid his hand on the half-Vulcan's back, but now it made perfect sense. He glanced over at Nyota and saw her trying to hide a smirk behind her hand. The security chief caught her eye, and they shared a conspiratorial smile.

Easy conversation then followed and after a very pleasantly relaxed, long slow evening, Nyota stifled her fourth huge yawn and said, "As fun as this is, I think it's time for me to go and get some sleep." She stood up and stretched.

Giotto spotted his opportunity and stood up next to her. He said, "I should go, too. Ny-chan, may I walk you back to your quarters?" as he offered her his arm.

She looked surprised but then smiled at him very sweetly as she took his arm and said, "Thank you, Barry. That's very kind of you." No one was particularly surprised at their easy familiarity, since after all, they had known each other since their Academy days.

Jim thought, You sly dog! Well, I can't blame you. May you have better luck with her than I did, as the pair bid everyone good night and strolled out the door.

Soon, Scotty and Christine left together, and then Bones called it a night, and finally it was down to just the captain and the first officer.

Jim smiled at Spock and said simply, "Spock, I'm so proud of you—you did great!" As usual, Spock flushed at the praise but he didn't say anything before Jim continued, "You improvised a solution to counter Chekov's resistance and managed to get him to the party without telling him about the surprise. I'm not sure that I would have been that quick thinking, so good on you for that! And then, even after that near-disaster, you were able to join in and mingle successfully and everything…" He was quiet for a moment and then repeated, "Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I'm really proud of you."

Spock flushed a little more strongly and replied, "Thank you, Jim. Thank you for making it possible."

It was Jim's turn to blush as he said, "Aw, shucks, I didn't do nuttin', that were all you."

His friend replied, "We could debate that point, but I think perhaps we should simply agree to disagree."

Jim rolled his head around on the back of his chair and said with a lazy smile, "OK, that sounds good…wait, did I just agree to something or disagree to something?"

Spock answered, "Does it really matter, Jim?" and his friend had to agree that it did not.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, and then Jim brought up a question he had long wanted to ask and which he was now drunk enough to finally spit out. He turned a speculative gaze on the half-Vulcan and said, "Hey, Spock, I've been wanting to ask you…did Ny-chan just have incredibly good timing, or is that rumor I've heard about Vulcans only having sex once every seven years just a load of bull?"

Spock had apparently had enough chocolate to answer (he was up to five of the small pieces by now, providing about the same level of intoxication as two drinks would give a human) as he looked back at Jim and asked in mild surprise, "How did you divine the precise nature of our relationship? I have not told you, and I have great difficulty believing that she told you, either."

Jim replied, "Remember, when you guys were kissing on the transporter pad?" Spock nodded as they both refused to think about the less pleasant aspects of that day. The captain continued, "Well, it was where you had your hand then, reeaally low down on her hip; that's what told me…"

Spock sat up straight digesting this and after a moment, he nodded and said, "Ah, I believe I understand now. That is a sexually possessive gesture."

Jim answered, "Yep, you got that right. It says, 'This is mine!'"

Spock looked at him then with a dark, utterly unreadable expression and said, "I shall remember."

The captain felt another of those odd little twists inside, but rather than think about that, after a moment, he prompted, "So which was it—good timing or bullshit?"

Once again relaxing in his chair, the half-Vulcan colored very slightly but decided to answer. After all, there was really was no reason not to anymore, the once carefully-guarded shroud of secrecy around pon farr now in tatters. Spock explained, "The 'sex-only-once-every-seven-years' rumor is a…misunderstanding…of certain biological aspects of the Vulcan reproductive cycle. Sexual activity between physically mature Vulcans can occur at any time, just as it can between humans," and after a pause, "Or as it can between Vulcans and humans." He had added this information for the sake of accuracy, as it was certainly true, although for some unknown reason, he flushed a bit more as he said it.

Spock lapsed into silence while Jim considered this new information. And really, it was to the captain's credit that he had had to ask, as the information was now widely available in the tabloid press and the gossip blogosphere. True, they were happily somewhat isolated from this type of report, not having the "opportunity" to see the tabloid headlines screaming at them from the magazine racks at the check-out line in the grocery store, but there were also now many reports online from the more questionable "news" outlets.

But apparently, the captain only paid attention to hard news, to real reports from real journalists, and the hard news cycle had not yet picked up this story, although it was probably only a matter of time before that happened, too. Spock himself was only aware of these accounts because he was on an email distribution list that alerted the recipients to stories about Vulcans online and in the popular press, as a way to keep up with what was being said about them.

It was all very unfortunate, but also very understandable, really. With the destruction of Vulcan, inter-species bondings were on the rise, and it happened that in most of them, a human was the inter-species partner. Some of these pairings would have happened in any case, given the quite overt interest in each other that members of both species could exhibit, and these unions were quite likely to endure, and in fact, they had a significantly better success rate than did purely human marriages. But some bondings were driven by emergency situations, where a Vulcan man or woman who was off-planet when Vulcan was consumed by the black hole needed a mate to survive pon farr. Some from this latter category would also go on to become life-long partnerships, while some would be dissolved.

But in any case, the humans had not been willing or perhaps even able to keep the Vulcans' secret. Driven by the apparent human compulsion to share what they knew (and Spock understood that humans shared knowledge regardless of whether there was any personal gain to be got from the sharing, that the sharing of the information itself seemed to be the primary point), there were now articles, blogs, and books devoted to the topic.

There were articles with titles like, "How to Sleep while Snogging," (from a British tabloid). There was a book titled Pon Farr Survival Guide (published by SexPress, a publishing cooperative in California) that offered such advice as, "Lay in a store of food that can be eaten with no preparation what-so-ever," and "If you have children and/or pets, have someone you trust lined up to take care of them on short notice," and "How to convince your boss you really do need time off and really need for someone to take over your very important report so you can go home and have practically non-stop sex with your husband or wife for several days to keep them from dying." And of course, there were plentiful reviews and recommendations for such things as "Vulcan-strength" bed frames and mattresses.

Jim absorbed what Spock had just shared with him, and for some reason, he was quite pleased, really quite pleased indeed, to get this answer to the question instead of the other one. But he naturally wanted to know more about those "biological aspects of the Vulcan reproductive cycle" that his first officer had mentioned.

At his captain's raised eyebrows and questioning glance, Spock said, "Vulcans do not normally speak of such things, and it has been a secret, kept from the rest of galactic society."

Jim nodded and said, "OK, I understand; it's private, and I shouldn't ask," doing his best to hide his disappointment. Dammit, this was something he wanted to know! (For some reason.)

But then Spock surprised him by continuing, "However, the situation has changed, as the secret is a secret no longer. There is now no reason not to tell you," and he went on to explain the seven year cycle of pon farr and the importance of having a mate during that time. Without the chocolate, it might have been difficult to talk of such things, despite that they were quickly becoming common knowledge, but as it was, he found himself almost eager to explain this aspect of Vulcan behavior to his friend. And he was able to justify this quite easily, reasoning that it was far better for Jim to hear it from him and get an accurate account than to read one of the tabloid stories with all their typical exaggerations and errors.

To his credit, his human friend took it all in stride and seemed intrigued rather than repulsed. To Vulcans, the loss of control during pon farr (rather than the sex) was the source of the deep shame that surrounded the topic, but humans were not so burdened. There was a side of human nature that positively relished and even encouraged a certain amount of losing control, so this particular loss of control did not seem like such a big deal, and in fact it sounded like it could be rather splendid fun, so… And Spock suddenly understood that in that light, the spike in human-Vulcan pairings was completely understandable.

Jim then asked him, "Spock, have you been through this yourself?"

The half-Vulcan answered, "No Jim, I have not. Many full Vulcans of my age have done so, but then many have not. And given my mixed heritage, it is possible that I will never experience it." As he said this, he noticed an odd look flit across Jim's face before it was gone. Surely he was mistaken, but the closest match in his mental databank of expressions was "disappointment." But then, he was beginning to get rather tired; he must have simply misinterpreted what he thought he saw on his friend's face.

Spock was wrong in thinking he was wrong, of course, and Jim was indeed fiercely suppressing any feelings of disappointment at Spock's latest statement, to the point that he couldn't admit to himself that he felt any such thing. But none-the-less, he decided it was necessary to change the subject and distract himself (and Spock, too, had he known it) by asking his friend if he had really enjoyed the party. The half-Vulcan replied that it had been "quite acceptable" and then the conversation drifted lazily to other matters.

But soon, Jim was trying to stifle increasingly large yawns, and by mutual consent, the two men decided to call it a night. It wasn't really all that late, just coming up on 2200, but it had been an exhausting day for Spock, and Jim was no longer used to this level of alcohol consumption, and it was making him unusually tired. Spock felt a little unsteady on his feet and slightly light-headed when he first stood up, but he soon regained his balance. They left the officers' lounge and strolled back to their respective quarters together, parting amiably at Spock's door. Sleep beckoned, and tomorrow was another day.

Author's Notes:

As usual, old business first. I wanted to include Giotto in the after party, and I decided to make it plain that he and Jim were really good friends. So I added a little to the part in the last chapter that discusses Giotto's changed opinion of Jim. I've copied it here, with the addition in bold

Although he had had his own troubles with Jim in the past, his opinion had begun to change while they were fighting the Narada. Since then, he had come to love this man as he loved few other people, and he and the captain were now fast friends.

The teasers from the last chapter were:

"What 'cha doin?" is what Isabella says in a sing-song voice to Phineas on the show Phineas and Ferb (on the Disney Channel) when she strolls into their backyard to see what they're doing. This is a wonderful, gentle cartoon series, where even the neighborhood bully is kind of a nice guy who speaks fluent French and has unexpected sensitivities. As a bonus, it features a platypus named Perry who is a secret agent.

And from the very silly movie, Wayne's World : "Yeah? And maybe monkeys will fly out of my butt."

Now on to this chapter.

70 cl = 23.67 fl oz and 20 cl = 6.76 fl oz

I made up the 85 year old whisky, but it's not really all that far off the mark. In 2010, Gordon & Macphail released two different 70 year old single malt Scotch whiskies, one from Mortlach Distillery, and one from The Glenlivet, both having been put up in 1940. The nose, palate and finish I described for the imaginary 85 year old stuff in this story is taken from reviews of the real 70 year old Glenlivet, since I could never in a million years afford something like that. (I can, however, recommend 15 year old Glenlivet as vastly superior to the 12 year old variety (as good as that is), and I simply can't imagine how wonderful the 70 year old stuff must be.) As for the price, I found mentions on the Web of £13,000 or $21,000, so F©18,000 would probably be about right for the whisky in this story.

I decided to go with "Terranglo" instead of "Standard" or "Federation Standard" or any of the other names that have been used for the official language of the Federation, simply because I like the way the word "Terranglo" looks and sounds. In my story, it's basically English, with the spelling weirdnesses and the irregular verbs and everything. There will be more about this in an upcoming chapter.

And that's it for this chapter. Thanks for reading, y'all!