The late afternoon sun still had plenty of heat as Spock and Mbaruku walked into the garden, warmth that Mbaruku figured that Spock would welcome. At least one of them would be comfortable, he mused, as he wiped the moisture from his brow. Mbaruku stopped at a small gardening shed and pulled out a few tools, a couple work aprons, and some work gloves. He divided them and handed a set to his volunteer assistant.
"Spock," he started, making conversation, "you understand that we have incited retaliation from Nyota and Faizah, right?"
"Retaliation, Sir?" the young man asked innocently.
Beneath the naïveté that Spock purposefully projected—he obviously was doing so—was an undercurrent of calculation. Mbaruku suspected that Spock knew exactly what he was talking about, and it intrigued him. Nyota was like her mother. If Spock had teased her before, Nyota would not hold back. His own nearly three decades of experience with Faizah and their daughters had demonstrated that conclusively.
"You don't believe that Nyota is going to let your comment just slide by, do you?" he challenged.
"It was merely an observation," Spock replied, emulating every calm, cool Vulcan analyst Mbaruku had ever met.
Mbaruku laughed. So, what was this? Spock was not backing down. He took satisfaction that Nyota had found a worthy challenger in the eternal Battle of the Sexes, at least when it came to men and women. Spock won more of Mbaruku's respect in that regard.
"Some 'observations' are more welcome than others," Mbaruku threw back, his own eyebrows rising, "…if you understand my meaning."
Spock straightened, the exaggerated Vulcan display of patience firmly in place. "It would be illogical to distort the truth of the matter."
Mbaruku grinned. "True, but I am not sure that Nyota will see the logic of that."
Spock considered. "Nyota is logical 97.6457 percent of the time," he stated authoritatively.
Mbaruku laughed again, enjoying this repartee while wondering how Spock had come up with that figure. "Well, as you will learn, it's that illogical 2.3543 percent that we have to worry about."
An eyebrow went up. Spock's voice returned to that innocent quality. "Understood. Father also observed that mitigation of negative outcomes directly correlates to successful progress in domestic undertakings. Might I suggest that course of action?"
After translating that mouthful in his head, Mbaruku laughed again. Again, Faizah was right; his Terran family and Spock's family on Vulcan had been alike in many ways. Completing these tasks always put Faizah in a better mood, as it apparently had with Lady Amanda.
Mbaruku picked up his tools. "I would like to meet your father. I think I could learn a few things from him."
Briefly, a warmth flickered through Spock's eyes as the younger nodded. "That can be arranged."
"I look forward to it," Mbaruku replied, inwardly surprised at the degree to which he did. "In the meantime, we better take your father's advice and start 'mitigating,' as it were."
"Yes, Sir."
As they walked to their work site, he marveled at his situation. In less than 24 hours, how he had gone from wanting to throttle Spock—the alien male threat to his Nyota—to relaxing his own guard and joking with him? The person walking beside him was not the impenetrable officer he had seen on the newsvids, nor was he the striking, but distant instructor he had met at Nyota's graduation ceremony. In this household setting as Nyota's boyfriend, he was someone else—a someone who was, among other things, funny, which still caught Mbaruku off guard. The subtle humor, which somehow managed to have an edge to it, intrigued him. Despite the young man's inherent formality and reserve, Mbaruku was beginning to find Spock personally engaging as he learned to read the younger's slight expressions and restrained physical cues.
A few more steps down the pathway, they came to the uneven, errant stone.
"Here we are. This one, this heave—about two centimeters, I would estimate. The way Faizah went on and on about it, you would think that it was a cliff," Mbaruku joked.
Spock tilted his head forward, giving the impression that this was a Vulcan shrug, but he said nothing, awaiting instruction.
Mbaruku stuck the tip of his shovel under one side of the 6-centimeter-thick stone, which was about a meter long and half a meter wide, then pushed down on the handle, levering the stone up. "Can you grab the sides? Will you be able to lift that out of the way?"
"Yes."
Mbaruku knew that Vulcans had superior strength. Nevertheless, what Mbaruku saw next astounded him. Spock easily lifted the wide, flat stone, holding it out away from his own body to avoid contact with the dirt and organic matter that clung to its underside, then gently set it aside at the base of a tree. If there was any strain involved, Mbaruku could not detect it.
"Spock, I am impressed. If I had tried to move that stone as you just did, I do not doubt that I would have injured myself."
"There is honor in service," Spock replied with a slight bow of his head.
"Yes, I agree," Mbaruku laughed. "Even more so when it saves me from serious pain."
Spock said nothing, merely standing straight and clasping his hands behind his back. Mbaruku detected little change in expression, still he got the impression that the younger was amused.
They continued their work, leveling the soil before returning the stone into its proper setting and orientation before progressing down Faizah's list. For the next couple hours, they moved benches, remounted trellises that had come loose, and fixed a leak in one of the watering units.
Spock turned out to be a pleasant working companion. He took Mbaruku's direction well, yet offered suggestions respectfully when an opportunity for improvement arose. As they completed their tasks, Mbaruku could not help comparing Spock to other young men who his daughters—well, mostly Aisha—had brought home. He thought back to several arrogant boys who had displayed an annoying bravado. Fortunately, neither of his daughters had any patience for that type, and he only had to endure one, maybe two visits at most from these individuals.
Other suitors had tried to charm their way into Mbaruku's favor, probably in hopes of charming favors from Nyota and Aisha in turn or getting Mbaruku to relax his paternal vigilance. What these would-be Romeos thought was clever conversation, Mbaruku found disingenuous and tiresome. Maybe it was a lack of maturity, or maybe, as the father-warrior had thought at the time, they were simply out to satisfy a hormone-induced lust. No matter. Through a little good, old-fashioned intimidation, the father-warrior in Mbaruku had ensured that his girls were protected from the onslaught of their prurient overtures and foolishness. Ah, those were interesting times, and Mbaruku remembered them with satisfaction.
In the man before him, Mbaruku sensed no duplicity, no hidden agenda. Spock simply remained helpful, quietly holding up the other end of a board, providing the third hand when the two Mbaruku had were insufficient, or providing the strength needed to move yet another bench or boulder. He said no more than was necessary, and in some ways Mbaruku found that refreshing. He, himself, was more of a thinker than a talker, happy to keep himself company with his own thoughts. However, if he wanted to get to know the younger better, he needed to make some more conversation.
Skimming detritus from the fountains and small koi pond required little concentration, so Mbaruku took advantage of the opportunity.
"Spock, tell me about Nyota," he started. "How was she as an assistant? What did she do?"
All right, so it wasn't the smoothest entrée into meaningful discourse, but Vulcans were not known for small talk. Straight to the point—that was best.
"Nyota assisted with grading basic assignments, monitoring the language lab, and assembling supplementary materials and aids for language modules. She provided remedial tutelage to cadets as necessary. Her performance of these duties was exemplary."
Straight to the point—perhaps not the best, not for the more subjective impressions Mbaruku was seeking. Spock was not going to give them up easily. Mbaruku could not fault Spock, however; his direct answer was simply Vulcan nature. Mbaruku had to take a more personal tack.
"Well, yes, Spock, I would expect that from my daughter," he said proudly. "I would expect that from any Starfleet Academy cadet. But was there anything that made her stand out? I would like hear more about her. You understand that I am a proud father, yes?"
There was a flicker of something behind Spock's eyes at his last statement, but Mbaruku could not decipher what it might be.
"A proud father…yes, Sir," Spock replied quietly, looking away briefly.
It was an acknowledgment of his statement, yet Mbaruku's instincts told him it was something more. Mbaruku worried that he had stepped over a line somewhere when the younger paused, looking at his hands for a moment before looking back up. When he did, his face was composed again.
"Nyota exhibited uncommon motivation in her studies and in performance of her duties. As my assistant, her predilection for organization and sourcing effective resources was essential to my own productivity and effectiveness. She was esteemed within the linguistics department for her own skill and enthusiasm in her studies as well as her ability to foster excellent working relationships with cadets, instructors, and administration."
Well, this was slightly better, Mbaruku thought, but it still sounded like a recitation.
However, Spock was not finished. "Perhaps most telling was that several colleagues attempted to recruit Nyota into their employ." He paused, hesitant, but then shyly admitted, "I am grateful that she remained with me."
Mbaruku's heart jumped, then warmed at Spock's honest admission at the expense of Vulcan privacy. His eyes met Spock's, and an understanding passed between the two. Mbaruku quickly commented to help lessen Spock's embarrassment.
"She never mentioned any of those opportunities to us, which says to me that she was happy where she was."
"Indeed."
Mbaruku smiled, still trying to put Spock at greater ease. "In truth, you should consider it an accomplishment."
Spock narrowed his eyes. "How so?"
"Nyota, just like her mother, is not known for her patience. Duty or not, if she was not happy, she would find a way out. She is never happy unless she is being challenged, entertained, or enlightened."
"Agreed," Spock said.
"Ah, so you have found that out?" Mbaruku laughed again.
"I have."
Mbaruku smiled to himself, pleased that Nyota challenged Spock on many levels. Anyone who wanted Nyota had to work for her, he thought, pride welling up again.
"Spock, I have a confession to make."
Spock looked back, his attention focused on Mbaruku. "Sir?"
"When I first heard about Nyota and you, I had serious reservations. I am sure that you knew that already."
Spock jaw tightened just the slightest amount. He said nothing, waiting for Mbaruku to continue.
"Well, I want you to know that most of those reservations have disappeared. Any that remain are the normal concerns that every father has with the men who court their daughters, no matter who they are. It is clear that she is happy. You obviously challenge, entertain, and enlighten her. No one else has been able to achieve all three."
Spock's jaw loosened, but now he looked confused. "Entertain?"
"Not in a theatrical sense, Spock. As you well know, my daughter thrives on study and knowledge. Her interest in linguistics goes beyond language. Being who you are, from an entirely different world, you bring new experiences, new discoveries, the opportunity to learn in many unexpected ways. It is more than enjoyment for her, it's pure delight. And you share her intellectual curiosity and drive in multiple disciplines, am I correct?"
Spock looked away, then looked back up shyly. "Yes, Sir."
Mbaruku found some delight himself at the shyness in this hero of the Battle of Earth. His Nyota had brought him to that! Speaking of Nyota, there was one more thing to settle.
"I am glad that you share those traits. She could never be happy with someone who does not. That said, I do have an obligation as Nyota's father, as all the fathers before me have had." Mbaruku drew himself up again into fatherly mode, as dignified as he could be, holding the long handle of pond-skimmer at his side like a spear. "I now fulfill that obligation by saying this to you: If you hurt her, you will have to deal with me. I don't care if you have the entire Starfleet Armada between you and me, she is my child, and I will do anything to protect her. I am releasing her now to your care."
Mbaruku understood that Spock had probably become Nyota's protector long ago, but it did not matter as he completed this formality. "Understand that I am trusting you," he added with a hard paternal stare. "Do not breach my trust."
"Yes, Sir."
Spock's tone remained respectful. He was not going to resist Mbaruku's warning. Good. Mbaruku knew that Spock's capabilities for defending himself surpassed any threat Mbaruku could carry out. Still, the father-warrior found some satisfaction. Now, he could take this relationship-building to the next step.
"Just one more thing: It has occurred to me that someday you will be my son-in-law," he said. "Perhaps you should start calling me 'Mbaru.' All my family and friends do."
The younger man nodded, and an eyebrow rose. "Mbaru…yes, Sir," he said with the smallest glint in his eye.
Mbaruku shook his head. "Very well. Let's finish this. The sun will be down soon. Maybe Nyota and Faizah will have cooled off and it will be safe to re-enter."
Spock breathed out, almost in a sigh. "Shall I calculate the odds?"
Mbaruku guffawed. With that smugness that Mbaruku had observed earlier, Spock went back to skimming the koi pond.
Author's Note, September 30, 2011: After this crazy month, I'm glad to be back.
Figuring out how to get these two to talk and have it approach believability was difficult. I hope that you agree with how I handled it. Both these guys are trying. Like TeaOli said in a previous review, because of their devotion to Nyota, they are each reaching outside their comfort zones to make this work.
(Again: Thanks, T'Soy!)