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Reed

"MayYouWaterEverFlow, alien dignitaries!" the two Eylordenes who greeted them were the same ones they had been talking to on Enterprise. Malcolm squinted at them. Were there no more than two Eylordenes in the entire planet? His question was soon answered when a bevvy of aliens of all sizes and shapes entered the hangar. That was fine. He would remain suspicious until they found the Captain, Trip and Hoshi. And even after that.

He caught T'Pol looking at him. He knew that look. She too was on her guard. The thought made him feel better.

The smaller Eylordene, obviously the spokesperson for the planet, was effusive in comparison to the larger one. "WaterFull, alien dignitaries," she gurgled, "We will take you to the ceremonial grounds right away!"

"I believe Lieutenant Reed will be delegated to assist with the search and rescue efforts to locate our shuttle?" T'Pol replied.

Reed nodded internally in approval. She hadn't missed a beat. She must have been rehearsing the exchange before the shuttle docked. And the look she shot him. Yes, they both didn't trust these aliens as far as they could throw them.

"The lieutenant will go with our forces," the browner Eylordene answered in his usual baritone, "but he must first accustom himself to where the ceremony will be held." T'Pol nodded. That was logical. The larger Eylordene turned to one of the smaller new arrivals, his robe undulating in a beckoning gesture. The alien approached them.

"MayYouWaterEverFlow, I am Pf'Sh'Eez'Ill," he introduced himself, his voice underlined with the scrapping of waves on fresh sand.

Reed took an instant liking to the alien. He had the sense of a silver-haired, solidly built special forces man. "I am Lieutenant Reed," he answered, "Glad to serve, Pf'Sh'Ezz'Ill!" he added, trying to mimick the alien rushing sound.

The robes of the three nearest aliens erupted in a cacophony of ripples and eddies and both of T'Pol's eyebrows jumped to her forehead. Reed realized the UT may not have accurately rendered the alien's name. He felt the heat of a blush spread around his collar. "Do you mind if I call you Zhee'Zill?" he quickly added, his fingers crossed that the UT would not screw up his intent.

It was a while longer before the aliens' robes quieted down enough for the sandy-colored one to turn to him. "Zhee'Zill, yes," the alien said.

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Ceremonial Grounds

The ceremonial facilities were striking by how undistinguished they were. T'Pol looked around, taking in the hemicycle, the dais with the speakers, the rows and rows of seats soon to be occupied by attentive but bored listeners. A quick look around revealed limited means of egress, high window-like openings at the edge of the ceiling. It would be impossible to tell what was going on outside, other than tracking the day as it brightened and darkened according to the main solar planet. She would be cut off from any external developments. The fine balancing computations still going on in her mind about the necessity of having Lieutenant Reed at her side at regular intervals instantly resolved itself. It would be required.

They were in one of the rooms bordering the semi-circle of the main chamber. It had been amenaged as temporary quarters for her and the lieutenant, a place where they could have a modicum of privacy to refresh themselves, sleep or meditate, according to their needs and preferences. Though expectations were that the Eylordenes had also installed a wide array of monitoring devices and that anything said or done would be reported on a quasi-simultaneous basis. Communication had to be brief and terse. She turned to Reed, "You will come back here in nineteen point five hours."

Reed stared silently back for a few seconds. He was used enough to Vulcans to know that he was on the abbreviated receiving end of a vast consideration of a number of complex variables, and that the pronouncement was as clear to T'Pol as it was obscure to him. "Nineteen point five hours, eh?" he heard himself repeating. Experience had told him that this was the best way to get additional information about the wheels and gears cycling in the Commander's head.

"The trip to the planet depleted the crystal reserves by an estimated four point sixty-hour hours, the additional point eighty-six hours will enable you to transition more smoothly from the search to the ceremonies," T'Pol replied as if this were the essence of obviousness itself.

Reed nodded. Message received. Translate, 'the additional time will allow us to debrief and figure out what you must tell Enterprise.' It would be the first time in the history of the universe that a Vulcan would allow time to what was essentially an emotional transition. Except she wasn't going to go out and say it. He agreed with her, everything they said and did was being monitored. He looked around the room, stretching in a yawn to cover that he was trying to locate the bugs and sensor arrays that he knew to be there. He couldn't see anything just yet.

"Back in nineteen point five hours, then. I'll get on with the search with Zhee'Zill whats-his-name," he said. That reminded him. He'd forgotten at the time but the UT would have rendered what he said in Vulcan. If so, T'Pol would have a better idea why the aliens laughed so hard. "By the way," he turned back to T'Pol, "you know when they all laughed? What did the UT say I called him?"

T'Pol looked up from the padds she was studying. Her gaze was impassive as always, not a muscle nor a hair out of place, he couldn't even tell if she was looking at him or through him. She let the word drop like a hundred pound weight.

"Vagina."

Reed took a sudden intake of air, swallowed at the same time, sputtered and coughed. He opened his mouth to say something, closed it, opened it again, closed it again, turned on his heel and left.

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Author's Notes: Thanks everyone for the wonderful reviews. I totally admit this chapter is a freebee, doesn't advance the story much, and the joke is totally lame-ish. But it wouldn't leave me alone...