Simple food and engaging conversation made a pleasant supper. Not once did Nyota or Faizah refer to the men's previous teasing. Between topics, they smirked, however, triggering Mbaruku's paranoia. Either they were planning retribution, or they were not but letting him think that they were. As there was nothing that he or his houseguest could do until something happened, he simply enjoyed the evening.

Conversation continued afterwards on the main patio. Under the glow of torchlight, they relaxed while watching the stars appear. Nyota told Faizah and Mbaruku more about the Enterprise, her crewmates, and the recent difficulties of navigating the gauntlet of memorials, ceremonies, and media events as Starfleet tried to sway public opinion in favor of its reconstruction efforts.

"The horde of reporters has not crawled over the walls and through Mama's roses because Command 'leaked' our 'secret' training mission somewhere on Mars," said Nyota.

"I am glad that your real 'mission' is here," Mbaruku joked. "We're glad that you could come home."

"I am, too, Baba," she laughed.

"So Command knows where everyone really went? That you and Spock are both here?"

"Well…," Nyota grinned. "Spock went to the Vulcan Embassy when Command dismissed us. They probably think he's still there."

Mbaruku looked at Nyota conspiratorially. "Interesting…how did you get Spock here without anyone finding out?"

"Sarek helped. He arranged a private shuttle and the rental flitter at the Nairobi shuttleport. We timed our arrival for after sunset so we could travel here in the dark."

"Nothing like having connections," Mbaruku mused. "Help from the ambassador himself, you say?"

Nyota smiled, almost giddy. "He calls me 'daughter.' He has been very kind to me."

Faizah's expression warmed. "Ah, you are family to him now…"

"My father would protect Nyota with his life," Spock informed her quietly, speaking up for the first time in a while.

Family—the center of Vulcan culture. Conferring "daughter" status on Nyota meant Sarek had seen and accepted the permanence of Nyota and Spock's connection. With the subject of most relationships too private for discussion in polite Vulcan society, Mbaruku would have to ask Nyota the next time he was alone with her what being Sarek's "daughter" meant.

Mbaruku felt the tug at his paternal bond, discomforted by the idea that Nyota could be "daughter" to another, but pleased that Nyota was welcomed and protected.

Then another realization hit: He, Mbaruku Uhura, might now have the right to call Sarek's child "son."

Now there was a thought.

-o0o-

Mbaruku felt another paternal tug of concern the next morning when his "son" appeared at the breakfast table. His face lacked as much color as it had the night he arrived. More troubling, a nearly palpable aura of distress surrounded him. Something had happened.

Nyota threw a don't-say-anything look at her father. Living with the Uhura women, Mbaruku had become an expert at obeying visual cues.

Neither Spock nor Nyota said anything beyond morning pleasantries as they sat. Faizah poured the tea and set out the food as if nothing was amiss. She had to know what was going on, Mbaruku concluded, otherwise she would be fussing over Spock and asking about his health. Nyota, Mbaruku, and Faizah ate a generous breakfast of eggs, grilled vegetables, and flat bread. Spock took only a small portion of flat bread with a nut butter spread and three small pieces of fruit, which he ate slowly. Upon finishing, he took nothing else.

The moment Spock and Nyota concentrated on their meals, Mbaruku's eyes met Faizah's across the table. She quickly shook her head subtly, acknowledging his concern. "Later," her eyes said. Mbaruku picked up his mug of tea and continued with his breakfast, commenting noncommittally about a neighbor's home improvement project to avoid awkward silence.

"I'm going to visit Abbi today," Nyota announced as the breakfast came to a close. "I'll be gone for a few hours."

Abbi and Nyota had been inseparable friends as children, then as adolescents. Abbi attended medical school at the university where Mbaruku taught. Mbaruku saw Abbi from time to time. She was a nice girl, now a smart and driven young lady—just like his Nyota.

"Is that wise?" Mbaruku asked. "I know Abbi will keep quiet, but what if somebody recognizes you?"

"I'm borrowing some of Mama's clothes so that I blend in."

"However…"

"Baba." Nyota's voice became serious, resolute. "I've lost too many of my friends. I need to see the friends I have left." Nyota closed her eyes tightly for a second, composing herself. "After the Enterprise leaves, I don't know when I'll see Abbi again. I promise we won't leave her apartment."

"I am sure you will have a nice visit," said Faizah to diffuse the sudden tension. "When will you be back?"

"Late afternoon." Nyota turned to Mbaruku, her eyes begging him to go along with whatever she had to say next. "Mama says that she needs some time to finish the revisions to the blueprints for her Planet Habitat project."

Planet Habitat built low-cost, low-impact housing on poorer worlds. Though retired, Faizah still enjoyed her architectural work, and the occasional Habitat project satisfied her need to design. Mbaruku had not realized that she was close to finishing her current project. Even so, it was odd that she would consider working on it while Nyota was at home visiting. Confused, he played along anyway. "Spock, are you going with her?"

"No, Sir." Spock remained quiet, subdued. "I will remain here…and rest."

Smart decision…Spock needed it. Mbaruku had heard the old saying that the eyes were the windows into the soul. In Spock's case, it was true. His facial muscles could control and hide emotional expression; Mbaruku was learning that his eyes could not. Spock probably knew that, too, because this morning he avoided eye contact.

"I could use some quiet time, too," Mbaruku said as casually as he could. "I have a novel I've been trying to finish for two months. Maybe today is the day."

Faizah's expression conveyed approval and a promise to explain everything one they were alone.

After a meaningful look at Spock and a touch at his temple, Nyota left mid-morning, dressed inconspicuously, borrowing a head wrap and caftan from Faizah to disappear into the hometown crowd. She climbed into the flitter she and Spock had arrived in and took off. Faizah closed the door after seeing that Nyota was safely on her way.

After a polite "Pardon me," Spock sought the warm sun outside, strolling along the garden pathway. Faizah held her smile until Spock was out the door.

Mbaruku had waited long enough. "What is the story? Is he all right?"

"That poor boy," said the Mama Lioness, worry taking over her features. "He had nightmares last night, vivid ones. He would not tell Nyota anything, but she felt his terror. It woke her up."

Up to this point, the idea of sharing thoughts through a telepathic bond involving his Nyota still disquieted Mbaruku. Disquieting him further was the two-way transmission of extreme emotion. Nyota's terror at falling along a cliff had affected Spock at the Academy; his nightmares had affected her last night.

"Are they all right? Is she all right?"

"She insists that she is fine," Faizah said, though the tightness in her voice indicated doubt. "She is more worried about him. He has been having nightmares for the last month."

Mbaruku felt more sympathy. "Understandable. Is he being treated for them?"

"There are no qualified healers available. The few Vulcan healers that remain are trying to heal themselves at the moment." Faizah shook her head sadly. "Spock told Nyota that Vulcans can heal themselves through mental exercises and meditations without a healer's help, but recovery will take longer. Nyota says that he fits in as much meditation time as he can. It's not nearly enough."

"He needs to take extended leave."

"He won't. Everyone is so worried about rebuilding Starfleet before the Klingons, Romulans, or someone else take advantage. We're down almost half the fleet. Starfleet needs everyone."

"I can't fault his loyalty."

"No, loyalty is not one of his shortcomings," Faizah mused. "We'll give him a few hours alone to meditate. We can keep an eye on him and call Nyota if anything comes up."

"I will read in the living room. I do have a nice view of the garden there…" Mbaruku wanted to find some way to help, even passively.

Faizah nodded her approval. "You are a good and dutiful father, Mbaru," she smiled, using one of his favorite lines, "and Nyota loves you for it."

Mbaruku smiled back at her. He lifted his mug and tea and walked to his favorite chair.

He settled in, thankful for the unobstructed view. Spock had chosen a bench in the sun, soaking in the warmth and the light as he sat cross-legged, alone with his thoughts. The young man posed serenely with his hands clasped together loosely in front of him. His eyes were closed, his face devoid of expression, and he remained still. Mbaruku hoped that the heat and the peaceful surroundings would let Spock find respite, even for a short time.

Occasionally throughout the rest of the morning, Mbaruku glanced up from his PADD to monitor Spock's condition. He had intended to finish his novel. His thoughts, though, wandered uneasily. Spock's nightmares last night. Nyota's cries as she shook in Mbaruku's arms the day before. The mental link. The last twisted a knot in Mbaruku's stomach. He respected Spock, liked him even. Nyota loved him, and Spock, Mbaruku had concluded, had committed to her with everything his nature allowed. But this bond… Spock's mental and emotional condition could endanger Nyota. If he broke, she might break, too.

Asking them to break it was out of the question. Their natural compatibility had formed the bond. Spock said it would be difficult to dissolve. Especially now, Mbaruku decided, considering how Spock had drawn strength from Nyota in the garden when they thought they were alone. Especially now, breaking this bond could be more harmful than leaving it in place, even for Nyota.

The younger remained stiller than Faizah's small lion statues that resolutely guarded the patio's four corners. Spock's immobility for the two hours Mbaruku observed him amazed the older man. Beneath the tranquil exterior were the traumas of a lost world and family, of the fight for survival, of uncertainty. He had known Spock for just a couple days. Based on limited knowledge, Mbaruku could not imagine or predict how Spock could or would deal with such matters. In matters of this magnitude, maybe Spock did not know, either.

-o0o-

Shortly after high noon, Mbaruku had had enough. His anxious thoughts had infused his body with a restlessness that demanded relief. Unable to remain still, he decided to take a stroll. Spock had not moved and appeared stable, so Mbaruku's vigilance probably was no longer needed. He informed Faizah of his plans, then set off for the quiet streets in his neighborhood.

The physical activity felt good. He supposed that each rhythmic step provided a kind of meditation, the ordered pace reordering his jumbled thoughts. The increased oxygenation of his brain surely helped his cause. After an hour, he returned home, ready for a glass of water. He had not expected to find Faizah and Spock in the kitchen, conversing as if they had been talking for hours.

Each sipped at a mug of orange-spice tea as they discussed the merits of various water collection and storage methods in arid climates. Mbaruku listened with mild interest, as he could not contribute anything to the conversation. As the pair went deeper into technicalities, Mbaruku got up, retrieved containers of Indian food from the stasis unit, and warmed the samosas and dal. He set them in the center of the table along with a dish of cooling raita. After Mbaruku procured dishes, utensils, serving spoons, and a bottle of homemade ginger beer for himself, the three were ready for lunch.

Spock did look better, not as pale as he had appeared this morning. Still, Mbaruku would not consider Spock as being rested. Spock's precise control of body movements remained, but he was moving just the smallest fraction more slowly. He and Faizah continued their conversation—the subject had morphed to general housing design in desert climates. Mbaruku continued to listen as he ate. For the first time, Spock seemed eager to talk. Was the younger consciously redirecting his thoughts? Perhaps.

As Faizah and Spock's newest topic, Faizah's design of the Uhura home, started to wind down, Mbaruku broke in. "Spock, speaking of our home, I have been meaning to ask: How much do you about our family? What has Nyota told you?"

Faizah sat up and back, as if this question had never occurred to her, but now she, too, was interested.

"She provided subjective profiles. I augmented her data with curricula vitae through professional and academic entities." There it was: blunt Vulcan honesty. Spock had checked up on them.

"Oh, you looked at our resumes, did you?" Faizah's voice rose in surprise, innocently. Mbaruku thought it was too innocent for someone who had spent two weeks solid trying to dig up information about the subject sitting at her very own table. "Just what were you looking for?"

"Probably the same things you were looking for when you looked at his resume," Mbaruku threw in just as innocently.

"Mbaru! You were just as nosy."

A human suitor might have taken offense. Spock did not appear offended; he had probably expected this.

"Your professional career as the principal of Ng'ang'a Architectural Design is well-documented, as are your endeavors with Planet Habitat," Spock said to Faizah. "Dr. Uhura's are similarly documented through academic publications and his University of East Africa profile. Most illuminating."

"Spock…I told you that you could call me 'Mbaru,'" Mbaruku teased.

A glimmer of warmth briefly flittered behind the younger's deep brown—and still tired—eyes. "Mbaru…yes, Sir."

Faizah laughed. Mbaruku looked again at Heaven, beseeching any angel who would listen to deliver him from Spock's odd humor. "Ah, so we all did background checks. I am pleased that you are as thorough as we are. But I doubt that you know about the Uhura and Ng'ang'a cousins and aunts and uncles…."

Spock's eyes narrowed somewhat. "No, Sir, I do not."

Ah, Mbaruku thought, the extended family. Nyota had not wanted to scare him away. If Spock were brave enough to face a mad Romulan, Mbaruku believed he could handle a large, boisterous, noisy, and very human East African family—but later. Now was not the time.

"You do not need to be concerned on this visit, but the next time you see us, you should prepare yourself. Once they know about you, they will come, and they will want to meet you, and there is nothing that Faizah, Nyota, or I can do to stop it or even slow down The Family."

Spock's eyes opened slightly wider.

"Rarely is there a day when I don't see my one of my brothers or their wives, my sister, or one of my nieces or nephews, or my own aunts or uncles, and it is the same for Faizah, her sisters, and their husbands and children, and her aunts and uncles. The only reason why we have not seen them today is because we told them we were not going to be available."

"They think that we are out of town," Faizah added.

Both eyebrows rose. "A lie?"

Faizah laughed again. "Oh, no. We never said that we were going anywhere. They simply assumed that if we were not available, then we had to be gone."

"Indeed."

"We are less worried about a reporter recognizing Nyota than we are about a cousin seeing her," Mbaruku said. "If it happens, The Family will hear about it immediately, and we will be besieged whether we want them here or not. I do hope that Nyota is careful. I prefer quieter pursuits this time, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir."

Spock, from his limited visual cues, exhaled a more exaggerated breath than was typical for him. The poor young man sat back against the chair's backrest, as if he needed its support. He was not ready for The Family yet.

"Let's finish our food, then we can go outside and relax in the lounge chairs," said Mbaruku. "I will tell you more about The Family, things you should know if you intend to remain with us."

"Such information is welcome," Spock said.

Vulcan-style, they finished what little remained of their meal in silence. Faizah gathered a bowl of whole fruit for dessert while Mbaruku grabbed a pitcher of juice and some cups, and the threesome went outside.

At the base of a group of palm trees, two pairs of lounge chairs angled next to each other in a "V" arrangement. Dappled sunlight through the fronds above glittered across the chairs and ground cover beneath them. Faizah set the fruit on a low stone table between the two sets. Mbaruku poured three cups of juice and passed them around. Faizah and Mbaruku settled in immediately, lying back and putting their legs and feet up on the long cushions.

At first, Spock sat on the very edge of his chair. Mbaruku observed the younger's indecision about whether he should copy Mbaruku and Faizah's relaxed postures and lie back as they did. Which would he choose? Commit a breach of Vulcan etiquette if he lay back, or possible offense if he remained seated upright? Mbaruku said nothing, nor did Faizah. Spock would have to make his own decision. After another moment of mental deliberation, Spock lifted his cup of juice and slid back into his own chair, hesitantly putting his legs up.

It pleased Mbaruku to see the formal young man adapt and compromise. Spock shifted quietly into place while Mbaruku nonchalantly launched into describing the Uhura and Ng'ang'a families. He described his Uhura kin, Faizah shared the details about the Ng'ang'a side. Spock paid close attention, which Mbaruku expected. Vulcan society revolved around the family. Matters of a family Spock expected to join surely interested him.

Descriptions of the Uhura and Ng'ang'a family trees soon converged, becoming stories of Nyota and Aisha, Nyota especially.

"That girl could not sit still," Faizah started. "Nothing was ever done until it was done right and done completely! She is still like that."

"She is," Spock confirmed.

"And always with her head bowed over a PADD, reading, studying…. How many supplemental education modules did we go through, Mbaru?"

"Enough for us to worry about our credit balance," Mbaruku laughed. "It's fortunate I work at the university and could borrow them from time to time."

Spock's eyes never left them. His unabashed interest in Nyota's history amused Mbaruku.

"How many times did Nyota drag Aisha into one of her projects?" Faizah laughed. "She and Aisha wrote about two dozen plays and musicals. Nyota wrote the scripts; Aisha wrote the music and created the costumes. Sometimes they drafted every child in the neighborhood into the cast. Our patio became the stage. We had shows once every month or two."

Recognition of a common experience crossed Spock's face. "Nyota continues pursuits in the performance arts."

Mbaruku suddenly turned to Faizah. "You better warn him about the shoes."

"Oh, no, Mbaru!" Faizah exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

Spock looked down at his shoes, then back up at Mbaruku and Faizah looking for explanation.

Mbaruku laughed. "It's a family story. We think it's funny. Nyota would be embarrassed if she knew we told it to you."

Spock's eyes widened. "Perhaps it is best that—"

"It is best that you hear it!" Faizah assured. "It is a silly little childhood story that will help you understand our Nyota better."

Spock tilted his head and focused on Faizah. Mbaruku snickered to himself, wondering how Spock would react.

"Our sweet little 7-year-old Nyota, despite her good heart and best intentions, once took a good idea too far," Faizah began. "She liked to read, and we always encouraged it. However, we never expected the fallout that came from reading The Lucky Red Shoes. Have you heard of it?"

"No."

"In the story, a poor little barefoot girl in ancient China found a pair of red shoes at her doorstep. No one knew where they had come from. Her family never could afford shoes. But they were there, in the little girl's size, and the color red was considered good luck. When the girl wore them, good luck followed her. Her water bucket magically could carry twice the amount of water, though the bucket's size had never changed. Her family harvested twice as much rice in one day as it had in a single day before. Suddenly the fruit trees produced more fruit. Her sister found a husband from a good family—all because the little girl had found and worn the red shoes."

Faizah shook her head. "I do not remember how the story in the book ended, but it wasn't the same ending we had here!" she laughed. "Nyota, in her quest to do good for her own family, decided that we all needed red shoes. She did not have enough credits to buy us new shoes, but she had the next best thing: the bucket of leftover red paint we had stored in the shed. Again, you know that our Nyota is thorough, yes?"

An eyebrow rose. "Indeed."

"Nyota collected every shoe in the house from all the closets, from under our beds, even my gardening shoes from the shed. And, being the thoughtful child she was, she wanted to surprise us. She waited until we had all gone to sleep, snuck in our rooms, and took the shoes we had worn that day. She set them on the patio with all the others she had gathered, and started painting them red! She even painted our slippers!"

"An unusual endeavor." Spock's dry comment drew a big laugh from Faizah.

"I was the first one up the next morning," Mbaruku said. "I could not find the shoes I had worn the day before. Where were they? When I looked, I discovered that all my shoes were missing. I woke Faizah and asked her where she had put my shoes."

"Of course, I had not put Mbaru's shoes anywhere. His shoes are his responsibility."

"Ah, and your shoes are yours, which you could not find either!"

The pair laughed. Spock remained in his chair, leaning into the cushion. With his elbows on the chair arms, he clasped his hands together with his index fingers peaked together and tilted his head to one side, listening intently.

Faizah spoke quickly, her excitement propelling her. "We looked through the entire house. What happened to our shoes?"

"I found out when you started screaming bloody murder." Mbaruku leaned away from Faizah to avoid being hit.

"You would have, too, if you had seen all the red on the patio!" she huffed.

Spock's features now radiated some amusement, though the typically aloof Vulcan manner muted it. Now the left eyebrow was slightly higher than the right one.

Faizah's hands flew to the center of her chest. "Oh, my heart stopped when I saw all the red objects on the patio. It was before sunrise, and there was enough light for me to see those horrifying pools of red, but not enough for me to see what the 'bloody' objects were. At first I thought that someone or something had been killed, and all the dripping red things were body parts."

"You should have heard her scream," Mbaruku laughed. "It would have deafened you."

"Don't laugh!" she commanded. "Spock, Mbaru screamed, too."

"Not like you did," Mbaruku laughed. "You woke the neighbors. The Nyaribos called the police, the Samiyus and Wafulas came running. Nyota and Aisha woke up and ran down from their rooms, scared that something was happening to us. Nyota had grabbed my old cricket bat, ready to fight off her mother's attacker."

"The police arrived, and, with their phasers drawn, they opened the door ever-so-carefully to take a look. By this time, the sun had risen, and it was obvious that no animal or human had perished on our patio—only our footwear," Faizah signed.

Mbaruku leaned away again, just in case. "You should have heard her screaming then!"

"Mbaru!"

"Our shoes…," Mbaruku was gasping for breath, laughing so hard, "…oh, they more than dripped with paint—they were hemorrhaging. Nyota had 'painted' them by dunking them. They were saturated, ruined…. If red shoes brought luck, then we were the luckiest family in all Africa. However, we also had become a family without wearable footwear."

"The neighbors thought it was funny, but they were good to us," Faizah chuckled. "They went home and returned with shoes we could wear until we bought new ones. The police laughed, too, but they had to find out who had committed this strange crime against our property, and so began the investigation."

Pleased that this crazy human tale continued to interest their guest, Mbaruku continued. "The 'investigation' did not take long. Nyota crumbled out of embarrassment and started to cry. She had meant well with her intentions, but she had erred at putting a good idea into practice. To our perfectionist Nyota, it was an unthinkable crime against her standards, her family, and all of humanity."

"All of humanity?" Spock asked.

"A bit of exaggeration, Spock, but you know how seriously Nyota takes the things she cares about."

Spock nodded. Yes, he knew, Mbaruku noted.

"As much as I wanted to hug her for her good intentions, she had to be punished for not thinking about the consequences of her actions. I did not need to mete out an extreme punishment; she has always been her own disciplinarian, stricter with herself than I would have been. Faizah and I made her buy each member of this family, herself included, two new pairs of shoes with credits she had earned herself. But she agonized over it for a very long time. Since then, she never starts a project without thinking it through. It's an experience that helped make her an exceptional teaching assistant, yes?"

"Indeed, most enlightening, Sir."

Faizah lifted one hand, index finger extended upward. "Spock, I must warn you. It was at one time a sensitive topic. Aisha teased her mercilessly about it for years afterward, and they came to blows over it whenever Aisha went too far. Although Nyota now sees the humor in it, if I were you and wanted to stay in her good graces, I would never buy her red shoes."

Spock nodded. "Noted."

Faizah smirked. "However, as you surely have come to realize, Nyota likes to tease…."

"Our Nyota? Never!" Mbaruku exclaimed in mock disbelief.

"I have no comment on the matter," Spock said innocently.

"That's what I thought," Mbaruku replied just as innocently.

"I like you, Spock," Faizah said. "If Nyota's teasing ever goes too far, you tell her that you know this story. She will stop, I guarantee it!"

"Faizah…!" Mbaruku feigned astonishment again. "You would have him tell that story on her? Oh, she will not be happy with you!"

"I won't be happy with her if she drives Spock away," she returned.

At Faizah's declaration, a flash of surprise and bewilderment crossed Spock's features before he corrected himself, breathed out, and settled more deeply into the back cushion. He was thinking. Mbaruku sensed no distress, however. In fact, Spock looked like he was on the verge of human-style relaxation—almost.

"Would you like to hear more?" Mbaruku asked, hoping that Spock did.

Faizah smiled. Mbaruku knew that she was aching to tell more tales.

Spock lips thinned as he weighed the options. His eyes again widened, he tilted his head forward, and the warmth that Mbaruku had seen behind Spock's eyes only occasionally returned.

"Yes, Sir."

Faizah sat up and clapped her hands together again. "Well, there was the time when Nyota was 11 years old, and she…"

In the shade of the palm trees for the rest of the dry, hot afternoon, Mbaruku and Faizah laughed and joyfully introduced Spock to Nyota as only they knew her.

Author's Note, November 17, 2011: Hi...this chapter's just a bunch of bits and pieces, quiet times. Spock and the Uhuras get to know each other without Nyota as a conduit. Faizah and Mbaruku got to tell their favorite Nyota stories. As Insights readers know, Nyota will regret that later, LOL!

Thanks to T'Soy for enduring a more draftier-than-normal draft this time around!