Spock opened his eyes, restlessness tugging him out of his hard won meditation trance. It had taken him hours to achieve the second level and now he had lost it again, he was struggling with First. The heightening of his senses however, informed him of some important change. Gillian was close by. He followed the pull, which led, to his complete lack of surprise to the beach. She walked along the sand, shoes in hand, lost in her own thoughts.
"Dr Taylor" Her head rose at his greeting and she smiled in his direction. It was not all for him though. He recognised the starry eyed look women had after Captain James T. Kirk had charmed them. Jealousy rose thick and caustic in him, urging violence, wiping away the effects of the evening's meditation. Only her presence here, alone, helped. If Kirk had been there also, enjoying a romantic after-sex walk, he didn't like to think of the result. Where was Kirk? "Surely Captain Kirk would have called you a taxi, you didn't have to walk."
Gillian smiled "He offered but the night was still young. I chose to walk. I was restless and thought the exercise might help." Unspoken questions hung in the air. Spock was desperate to ask why she was here instead of still on her date. More to the point, he wanted her to say she had left because she was not interested in Kirk, although her demeanour said otherwise. He could not, however, think of a subtle way of extracting the information from her. Since no formal agreement existed between them, he had no right to any information on her private life and he was too Vulcan to ask without it. They stood in awkward silence for a moment, and then Gillian spoke, "Are you up for some company, Spock?"
"Of course" Spock motioned her up the stairway to his apartment in the Vulcan Embassy. He was uncertain what to say, this was not a situation in which he often found himself. Gillian inspected the room with interest, taking in the red drapes lining the walls and his remaining art works. She was not a fan of his Chagall and showed little interest in it, focusing instead on his statue of the Vulcan war god and his collection of traditional weapons. He listed them and gave a brief history of each as he prepared a traditional drink for her. She wrinkled her nose as it hit her tongue but sipped it a few more times.
She had dropped her sandy shoes on the sonic mat and sat with her feet curled under her on his couch, while he took the individual seat across from her. The silence, companionable at first, stretched before Spock, waiting for him to fill it. He didn't think he's ever been good at this.
"Are you here in San Francisco for long?" he asked.
"A week," she said. "That's what George and Gracie agreed to, one week on then a week with no ships allowed near them. They don't mind the camera buoy. It's slower than they are so they can leave it behind whenever. I have some practical tests for the next two days and then a round of lectures. Then three days leave for me, so I'll have a chance to study some more. Most of it should be interesting, although I do have to attend Sensitivity Training so I don't go around making racist remarks or something."
"It can be helpful to learn to deal with a new culture," he offered. "I have been four times."
Her eyes widened and she sat forward "Once is compulsory, how come you had to go the other times?"
"I was required to go after complaints were made about my insensitivity to Human cultural norms," he admitted. He was trying to show her his desirable traits, not confess errors he had made, but he couldn't steer the conversation the way he wanted it to go. Perhaps he should have enlisted Uhura's assistance, language was her forte.
"Like what?" she asked, intrigued.
"I was unfamiliar with human nudity taboos. I gave my honest opinion when asked about a personal matter and I attempted to make a joke to Ensign Rand."
"The one about Captain Kirk's evil twin?" she asked.
He confirmed the answer with a curt nod. She showed him her dimples again and said 'I bet there's an interesting story about the first one." He attempted to defend himself "I was told that the exercise facilities were unisex, they did not specify they meant inside the cubicles," and watched her throw back her head and laugh.
"Oh, you poor thing," she commiserated, still chuckling. Spock was frustrated, he wanted her to laugh but not at his expense. This would be so much easier if he could have T'Pau make the arrangements. Of course, that would increase the odds of her saying no.
"So why aren't you in space?" she asked and he leapt on the subject change. His position as First Officer on a Starfleet vessel was his most singular achievement and it was not boasting to discuss it.
"The Enterprise-A is not Space worthy yet. Building will not be complete for another month and then it will need a shakedown cruise. Until then I will be in orbit around Earth or here at the Embassy." An added challenge which he did not need in his courtship, which was not progressing with the speed he desired.
"I'm so glad you didn't lose all your possessions when the 'Enterprise' exploded," Gillian said. Spock was confused, why would that affect her mood?
"The 'Enterprise' was a training vessel. The majority of my personal possessions were here in my apartment," he said. "Vulcans are not encouraged to acquire possessions to excess."
She smiled at him. "You're a man after my own heart. Or a Vulcan, I should say."
"Indeed. You take the trait to new levels, Dr Taylor." The transporter had disgorged her truck and the contents of it with little damage, but she had not known that, and had left her old life behind with only the contents of her pockets.
"All things considered, Mr Spock, you may call me Gillian if you wish. I'm afraid I am the unsentimental daughter of a very sentimental mother. I can't help it. I've been this way since I was born," she said, fiddling with her heart shaped necklace.
"You were not close?" he guessed, from her defensive tone of voice.
She gave a sad smile "No. My mother only sees what she wants to. She still can't understand why I didn't marry the first boy who asked me and settle down to keep house. They never paid much attention to me while my brother was there, anyway."
"You parents favoured your brother?" he asked.
"Of course," she said in a surprised voice. "He was the boy they had been waiting for, after three girls, the heir to the family name." She gave him a questioning look, which he didn't understand. "Aren't you your father's only son, heir to the House of something unpronounceable by humans? Nyota said your family is important."
"Vulcan clans are matrilineal. My grandmother T'Pau is the Head of Clan S'chn T'gai. I am her heir after my father. If my father were to have a daughter, she would supersede me. My confirmation as his heir when I was three was an indication they were not going to attempt another pregnancy," he explained. Sarek had not planned to have another child who might challenge Spock's position, but that had changed now.
"Which he could, if he remarries after your mother dies, I mean, of course, if he outlives her." Intellectual curiosity gave way to remorse by the end of the sentence.
"It is probable, given their respective lifespans that he will outlive her. And he will be young enough he will be required to marry again." He stopped. The subject of why Sarek would need to remarry was taboo among Vulcans. The Vulcan Council had been displeased with the Spock when it had become public knowledge, although Spock had been against it and protested to Starfleet. Gillian appeared to have been educated on this subject, though, she nodded her understanding.
"Well, you have to imagine there are three of you boys and then your father has a full blooded Vulcan daughter. That's what it was like when my brother was born." Spock tried to imagine his mother turning away from him, to another child. It was impossible. His mother's love for him was one of the constants of the Universe. Gillian seemed to find it natural. Of course, she had been two at the time.
She smothered a yawn and he became aware of the lateness of the hour. He still did not wish for her to go. She was his bond mate and he wanted her nearby.
"You may stay here for the night, if you wish, Dr Taylor" She cast an uncertain glance around the apartment, assessing the offer and he reassured her 'You may be sure I will not make unwelcome advances towards you." She laughed "I trust you, Spock. I'll need to borrow something to sleep in, though."
He took a uniform from the wardrobe where he kept his clothes, five ordinary uniforms and two dress alongside his meditation robes, two ceremonial Vulcan outfits and two sets of civilian clothes, and removed it from the hanger. He placed the folded outer clothes on the shelf and offered her the undershirt, shorts and hanger. He hoped she would take the hint
He adjusted the temperature and added covers to the bed, folding them double so she had a single layer and he had five. He emerged from the shower, finding her sitting in bed, inspecting the woven red and gold coverlet. "Don't worry, Spock, your modesty is safe with me, I promise I won't look." She paused, then added "Well unless any of the weird rumours I hear about Vulcan physiology are true. In that case, I'm totally looking." Spock decided she was mocking him, especially when he hung his robe in the wardrobe, revealing he was dressed in a uniform undershirt and shorts and she pouted.
He ordered the lights out and soon heard Gillian's breathing fall into the rhythms of sleep. His presence did not affect her as hers affected him. He burned for her, craved her with every fibre of his being, his thoughts were drawn to her constantly, he obsessed over her every word and in return, he thought she liked him. Or perhaps she was only grateful to him for helping her to mind meld with the whales. It might be worth it to propose to her. If she rejected him, he would at least know her feelings. It would be over. He imagined what it would be like to stare at her face and see dismay writ there and shelved the idea for the moment. What had she done when Kirk had propositioned her? Had she said yes, or no? He couldn't tell. The early hour seemed to suggest no, but the possibility of a yes was causing jealousy to burn through him. Perhaps she had not, but planned to after several more dates. He ran through a meditation exercise until his teeth unclenched.
