A/N: Welcome back! Thanks to everyone who reviewed. :)

Not much else to say here, haha. Except that you might notice that I'm trying to get more minor character involvement in this fic than there was in Ninety-Nine, so hopefully that works out alright. xD

As always, comments and critiques are welcomed! Please enjoy. :)

Chapter Two

"Life is relationships; the rest is just details." -Gary Smalley

It ended up being a good thing that they remained together, because Spock had another nightmare.

Spock did not dream of watching himself assault Jim in the throes of plak-tow, as he had dreamt the day after his return to the Enterprise. He did not dream either of watching his home planet crumble and disintegrate around him as he lunged a hand out for his mother, too late to save her.

He dreamt of T'Lyra.

He could not remember the specifics of the dream, though he had a few solid theories, but when Jim shook him awake he could hear the remnants of his own guttural cries reverberating off the walls and for a moment he lay there paralyzed with anguish and he gasped out,

"T'Lyra – T'Lyra...!" He stumbled to his feet, away from Jim's worried gaze, and he buried his face in his hands. His face felt hot and damp and he knew he must have been crying in his sleep, and he fought to regain control over his trembling body and unruly emotions floundering in his chest. After a moment he was aware of a tentative hand on his shoulder and Jim's voice murmuring gently behind him,

"It's okay, come on, it's all right. Let's just go back to sleep – it was just a bad dream, see? You're okay, Spock, you're okay..."

Spock sat down heavily on the edge of the bed but could not bring himself to lie back down. Jim, propped up on his pillows on the other end, peered worriedly at him then asked hesitantly,

"Why do you think you keep having nightmares? Do you know?"

"While I was on New Vulcan," Spock replied slowly, voice still unsteady. "I was taking sleeping aides on a regular basis. It was a mildly addictive chemical so the nightmares may be a withdrawal symptom. Or... the chemicals have been suppressing my dreams, and I have been having nightmares all along – and only now am being made aware of it. Both are... likely causes." They sat in silence for seven seconds before Jim asked tentatively,

"Who is T'Lyra?"

The sound of her name shattered Spock's tenuous control and a sob broke through his lips – he clamped a hand to his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut, struggling against his more-than-slightly humiliating breakdown. Jim's hand moved in small gentle circles on his shoulder and he focused on the light contact, forcing his breathing to steady and coaxing himself into his standard stoic frame of mind.

"Sorry," Jim murmured apologetically, the guilt heavy in his voice. "I'm sorry. Forget I asked, it's okay."

"Someday," Spock said faintly, shaking his head almost imperceptibly. "Someday I will tell you, when the memories are not so – fresh. Not now, but someday."

"It's okay," came the soft reply. "We all have secrets, things we don't want to talk about. You don't have to tell me. It's okay."

After two minutes and seven seconds of silence, Spock laid back down, Jim already beginning to doze off beside him. He knew he could not fall back asleep but he knew also meditation would be futile – his mind was buzzing about frantically with thoughts, with memories, of that soft youthful face branded into his heart.

Jim deserved to know, Spock told himself. He had to tell him eventually – she had become far too large a part of him to keep it to himself. But for now Jim was content to wait – and so Spock would wait. Maybe someday he would be able to talk about the little girl who had captured his heart without wanting to curl up and die.

Spock was particularly quiet in the morning, but Jim didn't push him and was courteously quiet too, letting the Vulcan mull over his thoughts – because, after all, Jim had some thinking of his own to do.

They grabbed a small, quick breakfast in the officer's mess hall, Spock picking at a plate of assorted fruit as Jim busied himself with a bowl of cereal. They ate in silence, then as they were beginning to leave Jim caught sight of Scotty sitting down on the other side of the room and he stopped short.

"Go on without me," he said quickly to Spock. "I need to talk to Scotty real fast." Spock raised an eyebrow curiously, but complied to Jim's request, murmuring,

"I will see you on the bridge." Jim waved him goodbye, then hurried over to the Scotsman who was, thankfully, sitting alone at a small table.

"Scotty!" Jim said jovially to him. "Mind if I sit here? I've got something I need to ask you, if you don't mind." Scotty looked quizzically at him, his mouth full of eggs and sausage, but he gestured for the younger man to sit down across from him.

"What d'ye need, Cap'n?" he asked as he stabbed another sausage with his fork.

"Well," Jim said a bit hesitantly. "You've been to Wrigley's Pleasure Planet a couple times, right?"

"Oh, sure. Once spent a month or so there. They cannae be bothered to keep their machines in workin' order, ye know, the natives are all so busy in their little hedonistic pursuits an' all. Spent a while down there as a mechanic in me early Starfleet years, a lovely little planet she is."

"So you know all the best places to go, right? Good places to, you know, take someone on a date?" A slow smile spread across Scotty's face and he set down his silverware to rest his chin against one hand with a coy expression.

"Well, I think ye'll have to be tellin' me the name of the lucky lass if ye want me to impart some o' me knowledge, Cap'n," he replied teasingly and Jim grinned sheepishly, but gave the older man a look that told him in no uncertain terms that his mouth would remain firmly shut. Scotty sighed and leaned back in his chair, still grinning.

"Well, there're a lot o' nice places," he said matter-of-factly. "It all depends on what your date likes."

"Let's say it's a down-to-earth kind of person," Jim replied carefully. "Pretty no-nonsense most of the time, but still knows how to relax when time allows. So I'm thinking something that's not frivolous or over-the-top, but still, you know, meaningful. Memorable."

"First date?"

"Er, yeah."

"Sounds like ye've got a high-maintenance lady on your hands," Scotty chuckled. "Well, let's see. If she's down-to-earth you'll wanna stick to a nice dinner. Probably not a movie, too overdone. They've got some pretty fancy botanical gardens in a couple places, some nice museums too – "

"A museum," Jim breathed, eyes lighting up, and he exclaimed, "A museum! That's perfect, Scotty, you have no idea how perfect that is."

"She got a love o' learnin' to her, eh?" Scotty laughed, and Jim grinned – the irony was positively killing him.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "I think that's what I'll do. Know what the best museums are?"

"Oh, I'm not sure. I'd guess a quick search on the 'net will bring up somethin' to yer likin', though."

"Okay. Man, thanks, Scotty, you're a lifesaver!" Jim enthused, standing up to go.

"Glad I could be o' assistance," Scotty replied with a grin. Jim left after a few more parting words, then Scotty turned back to his breakfast, which had turned cold. He glanced at the clock on the wall and swore – ten minutes before Alpha shift started.

"Blasted boy an' his datin' problems," he grumbled to himself as he shoveled down the rest of his eggs. "Why is it me who's always gotta solve the problems? Ach, I'm no miracle-worker!"

In the evening Uhura was sitting curled up next to Scotty on the sofa of the officer's rec room, skimming through text on her PADD as he talked about the latest side project going on down in engineering, something involving manipulating the replicators into creating Romulan ale.

"Oh!" he said suddenly. "Ye'll never believe what happened at breakfast!"

"What?" Uhura asked with a slight chuckle, glancing up at him fondly.

"Well," he said seriously, looking around as if checking for eavesdroppers. "I had just sat down to eat when none other'n the Cap'n hisself comes along an' asks me about the best places on Wrigley's to go on a date!"

"Really!" Uhura exclaimed with a grin. "Uh oh. Did he say with who?"

"Ach, he was bein' all secretive-like about names," he replied, rolling his eyes. "But from what he did say, sounds like he's got quite a girl on his hands."

"What did he say?"

"Said she was no-nonsense, wouldn't like a frivolous date. I'm bettin' it's a girl in Science – he seemed to jump on the idea of goin' to a museum."

For a moment Uhura was silent, obviously pondering – then a slow smile spread across her features as understanding suddenly washed over her.

"I think I might know who it is," she said, clapping a hand to her mouth. "Oh, goodness – he wouldn't!"

"Tell me, tell me!" Scotty replied enthusiastically. "Lass, ye've got to tell me!" She shook her head, still grinning.

"Oh, I don't want to say, if I'm wrong it'll be horrible," she said, biting her lip as he shot her his best puppy dog eyes. "But if I'm right – oh my god, Monty, you will seriously never even see it coming."

Uhura couldn't stop grinning even as he continued to plead with her. She had quite an interesting conversation with one Mr. Spock to plan.

After Alpha shift, Jim skipped dinner and hurried back to his quarters. He sat down heavily at his desk and grabbed his PADD – his personal one, not the Starfleet regulation one that kept track of everything he did. He liked his privacy, thank you very much.

A quick search of Wrigley's major city brought up several potential candidates. Two art museums, one museum of space travel, one museum on the history of the planet, another art museum, a natural history museum – it all seemed like too much. Jim was inclined to choose the space travel museum, but he closed his eyes and pretended he was Spock for a moment, trying to decide which would be most appealing to the Vulcan. But pretending to be a Vulcan proved to be a fruitless effort, and with a grumble and a grown he did a bit more research into each museum.

The history of Wrigley's Pleasure Planet was not particularly interesting, so he crossed that one off the list. The space travel one would be cool, but Spock probably already knew everything there was to know on the subject, so that one got a "no", too.

He looked at the three art museums and the natural history museum. The natural history one was the newest and also the smallest, and a bit out of the way, so he decided against it.

He hoped Spock liked art, because it looked like an art museum would be the winner here. Jim wasn't much of an art connoisseur, but the museum boasting to have pieces from nearly ever Federation planet and a few non-Federation ones seemed like it would appeal to Spock more than the others – Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations and all that Vulcan stuff. Plus a restaurant in walking distance had what appeared to be an excellent vegetarian menu, which was something of a necessity for Spock.

Perfect. Jim checked the days they would be orbiting the planet on the mission statement on his other PADD, then made the dinner reservation for the evening of the first day.

He set aside his PADD with a smile. It was going to be a perfect date, he was sure. All he had left to do was wait.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Chapter three will be up next Saturday.