I do not own Star Trek, I don't make any money, so send chocolate-covered cherries!
French Chocolates By The Fireplace Part II
Phaelen was on the prowl. He had been ejected from every nightclub in the vicinity of the Deltan Embassy. He found the fragile Humans too tempting to resist, even though it was considered unethical to mate with them. The combination of the pheromones he gave off and the sensuous nature of his telepathy could actually cause a Human to lose their sanity. Phaelen did not concern himself with the mental health of his partners. He cared only for his own pleasure.
He scanned the dance floor hungrily. Now there was a pretty pair! A dark-skinned Human female with ...No, could it really be? A Vulcan male? He had yet to experience one of those. They bonded for life and were monogamous. This one was quite young, however. Perhaps he was not yet taken.
They were dancing a slow dance in a corner of the night club. Spock had both of his hands around Nyota's waist, as she had shown him in her mental image of her fantasy. She had started with both hands around his neck and gradually slid them down his back until each one came to rest in one of the embroidered back pockets of his jeans.
"Just warming my hands" she said with a wicked grin.
Then she pulled him closer so that there was no space at all between them, resting her head on his chest. They danced this way for several minutes, until they both felt taps on the shoulder.
"You two make an incredibly attractive couple. Would you consider a threesome?"
Spock was filled with rage. He spun around to see who would dare ask such a thing.
"Ambassador Phaelen! Your perversions are well known. You know that Vulcans mate for life. You also know that Humans may be harmed by mating with Deltans. Unfortunately your diplomatic immunity protects you from prosecution. However, it does not protect you from me. You will step away from me and my wife, sir, or you shall most certainly wish that you had."
"Ah. You are Sarek's son."
"Yes. I am Spock and my father warned me about you. He also told me of your efforts to "pick up" himself and my mother. Such attempts will not be appreciated here, either. I do not possess the same degree of emotional control as my father."
Spock was mere centimeters from Phaelen's face when he said this, holding him by the collar. Phaelen recalled that Sarek had nearly neck-pinched him the last time he had made an inappropriate gesture. He had also heard rumors that young Spock had once nearly choked his commanding officer to death. He swallowed hard.
"Perhaps it would be best if I left."
"I think that it might."
Phaelen quickly departed the club.
Sarek had once explained to his son that diplomats tended to fall into two categories. There were those who were among the most respected and trusted of their people, who exemplified the values a civilization held dear. The other group was composed of individuals who were such an embarrassment to their noble families that they sent them off-world to get rid of them. Phaelen fell into the latter category.
Nyota led her husband back to their table, so he could get a drink of water and cool down. When he was calmer, she made a suggestion.
"Beloved, let's go back to the hotel."
"I would like that."
Louise Bouchard looked up from her reading in time to see the young couple crossing the street.
"Maurice, quickly, go light the fire. They have returned early tonight. Take the cognac and chocolate truffles with you. Hurry. I will try to slow them down."
"Oui, cherie. I will be quick."
"Bon soir, mes enfants. You are back early tonight. I heard from Henri today. He enjoys his duty station on New Vulcan. He says he would not be liking it so much if you two had not taught the language so well. I hope he was not a difficult student."
"No, Madame, not at all. With the exception of my lovely wife, I would say Henri was my best student ever."
"Merci, Monsieur. You are very kind."
A buzzer on the panel sounded, the one for Spock and Nyota's room. It was a signal from Maurice that the room was ready.
"Well, good night to you both. Sweet dreams."
Spock really did not need the fire that night. He was still a little hot under the collar when they reached the room. Nyota picked some soothing, slow dance music from the selections available.
"Come here, Commander. I'm not through dancing with you yet."
She embraced him with one hand, while she caressed the hairs on the back of his neck with the other. Soon he was calm and happy, and soon after that, just a little bit frisky.
"Nyota, let us lie by the fire. See, we have chocolate again. I would like some. Would you like some, too? I could feed it to you."
"You just want me to lick your fingers again!"
"Did it not work out to your advantage last time?"
"Yes, Spock, I recall that it did."
The following morning, Spock and Nyota were ready for the Bouchards when they knocked. Spock had the bottoms and Nyota the top of a set of blue silk pajamas. He let them in.
"Bonjour Madame and Monsieur Bouchard. Please come in."
Spock got back into bed without being told this time.
"Ah, Starfleet's finest. They respond so well to the training! This morning we have assorted pastries, raspberries, cheese, and tea."
"Thank you. I think that I will have some of each."
"Very good, Monsieur. And you, Madame?"
"The same, please."
"I do not understand how you two stay so thin. You must exercise a lot."
"Oh, we do!"
Fortunately, Nyota refrained from describing the exercise they liked the best.
Berthe, a chamber maid at the hotel, stood at the front desk with Madame Bouchard. They watched the young couple leave for the day.
"I will go and clean their room, in case they return early. I wonder if I will find them again today."
"Find what, Berthe?"
"Everyday when I clean, I find torn panties in the wastebasket."
"Ooh, la la!"
The University of Paris, or La Sorbonne, had a language school second in the galaxy only to that of Starfleet Academy itself. Even the former Vulcan Institute of Linguistics had not been so well respected. On their last full day in Paris, the newlywed geeks spent several hours touring various classes, language labs, and libraries. Spock was very surprised to see his interactive Vulcan course being used. Several professors recognized him and congratulated him on his work. All in all, it was a very pleasant experience.
After lunch, however, Spock had to deliver on his promise. He would have to take Nyota shopping on Ile Saint Louis.
Nyota really was not a shopaholic. She bought gifts well in advance of events such as birthdays and Christmas. She kept a box of small, useful items on board the ship to give as gifts for events she had not anticipated. She also picked up thoughtful items that she knew would please the people that she loved. Sarek and Amanda both had that ability, but it was slow to develop in their son. With Nyota's help, Spock was learning.
Nyota was quite surprised when Spock selected gifts for his cousin Sirin's children for no other reason than that they would be seeing them the next day. Sirin and his Terran wife Rachel had been married for eight years, but had never had a Vulcan bonding ceremony. They would be doing so in a few days time in San Francisco.
"Spock, should we give them a gift for their bonding ceremony?"
"It is not a Vulcan tradition to do so, but they are not exactly a traditional couple, as we are not. I think a gift might be appropriate."
"What should we give them?"
"I do not know. Perhaps we should make use of your intuition. Maybe you will know it when you see it."
Nyota was shopping for souvenir earrings for Janice and Christine. The boutique was quite small and the salesgirl kept trying to flirt with him, so Spock decided that he would wait outside. He did a bit of window shopping, examining the displays of the various boutiques. That was when he spotted them. They were black and shiny, with silver buckles and stiletto heels.
It was more of a memory than a fantasy. Spock had always detested parties, costume parties in particular. Every year, Dr. Peng, head of the Xenolinguistics Department, threw a huge Halloween bash. He "strongly suggested" that everyone, faculty and cadet alike, attend in costume. As an instructor, Spock could not refuse the invitation.
Spock had been annoyed that he was being be forced to attend, but finally resigned himself to his fate. At a nearby costume shop, he had purchased a black mask, "do-rag", and a fake sword with scabbard. He dressed himself all in black, choosing from items already in his closet. He really did make a dashing "Dread Pirate Spock".
Nyota and Gaila were roommates and second-year cadets. They had recently attended a performance of The Pirates Of Penzance and thought it would be great fun to dress up as pirate wenches. They rented costumes.
Spock had put in his required appearance and was just about to leave when the girls arrived, fashionably late. They made quite an entrance, especially Nyota in those shiny, black boots with silver buckles and stiletto heels. Spock could not take his eyes of them. Though the Vulcan would never admit to such a thing, he was a "leg man" with a bit of a foot fetish. Nyota's alluring costume had so disturbed his logic that images of her in those boots disrupted his meditations for weeks afterward.
Now, he was confronted with such footwear again. There was only one thing to do for it. When Nyota exited the jewelry boutique, he grabbed her hand and hauled her into the boot shop.
Ah, young lovers! They were always Jean-Marc's favorite customers. They were so predictable, usually a shy young girl came in with a bold young man. They would invariably be looking for something they had either seen in a holovid or fantasized about.
Something was different about this pair. The girl was the bold one. Though the young man had nearly dragged her in, he was now standing in a corner of the shop, blushing. A most unusual, green blush, at that. The young man was wearing a hat, so he could not be certain. It had been almost thirty years since he had had a Vulcan in his shop, but Jean-Marc remembered it like yesterday.
That Vulcan had been older, but looked enough like the young one in his shop now to have been his father. He also had been shy and had come in with a Human girl. They bought red stiletto pumps.
"I need to stop my reverie and help the customers" thought the store owner to himself.
"May I help you, Mademoiselle?"
"Yes, we would like to see the black boots in the window, the ones with the silver buckles."
"Very well, I shall bring them."
Jean-Marc knew his work well. He could estimate the size of a lady's foot simply by looking. He was very seldom wrong. To be on the safe side, he always brought out one size larger and one smaller.
The middle size was just right. The young woman walked around the shop a bit in them, and then modeled the boots by lifting her pant leg and showing the young man, whose cheeks had again gone green.
"Now for the real test!" she said as she walked over to the tall young man and kissed him. The heels of her boots were high enough that he did not need to bend for this. The poor young man turned an even brighter shade of green.
"We will take the boots" was all that he said when he finally found his voice.
They were still shopping in Ile Saint Louis, when Nyota broke out in an impish grin.
"I have another shopping fantasy that I would like to act out."
"Nyota, do you not think that we have shopped enough?"
"Oh, no, my love. Not yet. I would like for you to go into Madame Elise's Boutique over there and pick out something that you would like to see me wear just for you."
Nyota pointed to a shop two doors down from where they stood. "While you are doing that, I will venture into Rousseau's and find something for you."
"Nyota, you may not be pleased with the results. Also, I think that I will find this somewhat embarrassing."
"You'll do just fine. Imagine that it's one of Jim's team-building exercises."
Spock did not really care for Jim's team-building exercises. In the past, the Captain had required him to imitate his favorite animal and also to role-play Dr. McCoy. He hoped shopping for his wife would be a bit more pleasant.
The shirt had a black background and a subtle gray stripe that matched the embroidery on his new jeans. It was cut very close to the body with just a hint of stretch to the fabric. It had a banded collar and buttoned down the front. Nyota imagined herself undoing those buttons.
She bought the shirt.
Madame Elise had seen the look before. They all wore it when they came in, lost puppies searching for something for a wife or girlfriend. She would help the poor young man, as that was what she did best.
"Monsieur looks a bit lost. May I be of assistance?"
"I am uncertain as to what I need. I am looking for a gift for my wife."
"Perhaps you could tell me a bit about Madame."
"She is beautiful, with long dark hair, warm brown eyes, and skin like melted chocolate. She is tall and slender and strong. She gives much of herself and asks for little in return."
"And she has captured your heart. Close your eyes, young Monsieur, and think of her. What colors do you see?"
Spock did as the woman asked. In his mind he pictured Nyota amidst a background of swirling reds, oranges, and yellows. When he opened his eyes, he saw the dress. The top was red with gold embroidery and beads. The skirt was full and swirled with the colors he had seen in his mind. There was a shawl that matched the skirt.
He walked to the dress.
"This is what I saw."
They met by a bench outside Rousseau's, each with a package, and seeming quite pleased with themselves.
"Spock, we only have one thing left to do. We must find a gift for Sirin and Rachel. Something bond-mates would enjoy together."
"Look, Nyota. La Bonbonniere. Perhaps they would enjoy chocolate as much as we do."
"Spock, that's a great idea!"
La Bonbonniere sold a deluxe assortment of one kilogram of their finest confections. They even gift-wrapped it in chocolate brown paper with a pink bow.
The advertisement in the shop window said that eating chocolate should be a sensuous experience. Spock looked around for several minutes. He had never seen so much chocolate in his life. The scent alone was beginning to make him a bit giddy and his imagination started to take him to places he usually did not go.
Spock spied a tray of round, raspberry creme-filled, dark chocolate bonbons. Each was topped with a deep pink rosebud. For some reason, they reminded him of Nyota.
"I would like half a dozen of these, please."
They remind me of your lovely chest, beloved!
Really, well two can play at that game!
Nyota selected a half dozen chocolate-covered pretzel sticks with mint green sprinkles.
Spock paid for their purchases and they left the store.
"Nyota, I have shopped enough and would like to return to our hotel room now."
"So would I."
Maurice was the one who saw them coming this time.
"Louise, they are back. What is it that we are supposed to do tonight?"
"If they have not made another plan, Monsieur Sarek wishes for us to give them dinner in the room."
"How will we find out?"
"We must ask them."
The young couple entered the hotel, laden with packages.
"Ah, bon soir, mes enfants. What have you planned for tonight?"
Spock and Nyota looked at each other somewhat blankly. They had no plan other than enjoying each other and the chocolate they had just purchased.
"If you have no plans for dinner, an anonymous friend would like to give you room service tonight. Do you have any objections?"
"No, I do not believe so. In fact it would be most pleasant to not have to leave the hotel again tonight."
"Tres bien. Shall we say in two hours time?"
"Could we make it two and a half?"
"Oui. Madame. Two and a half hours."
They managed to dress themselves in time for dinner, after enjoying some chocolate and a leisurely bubble bath. Since they were dining alone, they decided to wear their new clothes.
Spock actually liked his new shirt, though he seldom wore patterns. The stripe was just subtle enough. It looked good with his new jeans and the IDIC medallion Nyota had given him for Christmas.
Nyota was very pleased with the dress and shawl. It was something she might have chosen for herself, and it wasn't even half bad with her "pirate" boots. The emeralds Spock gave her made a lovely contrast.
Jean-Pierre the waiter knocked on their door at half past eight. Spock let him inside. He served the couple pumpkin soup, followed by a vegetable quiche and green beans. Next came a salad of mixed greens and tomatoes. Dessert was a cinnamon spice cake topped with chocolate ganache, served with a glass of Sauterne.
The waiter lit the fire and then excused himself and took away the cart after he had served their dessert, leaving the couple to enjoy it in peace.
They went to bed quite early on their last night in Paris. But it was hours before they slept.
They woke before dawn, showered, and dressed. They packed the last of their things. They would need to leave for the Transport Depot in a few hours.
Louise and Maurice were sad to see the young couple already packed and dressed when they brought in their breakfast. They served them at the table instead of in bed.
"Mes infants, we will miss you. You have been such a pleasure, so beautiful and so much in love. You must return to us someday. At least send of pictures of the pretty babies you will have."
"We will return, of that I am certain. You have made Spock and I feel very welcome."
"It was our pleasure. We will have a taxi waiting for you. You will be in good time to make your journey to San Francisco."
"Thank you, Madame Bouchard. We will sign for the charges on the way out."
"There will be no charge, Monsieur. An anonymous friend has taken care of the bill."
"Ambassador Sarek I suspect."
"I really could not say, Monsieur."
Paris had been wonderful, every minute of it living up to its romantic reputation. However, they had left it behind and boarded a transport for San Francisco. Nyota rested her head on Spock's shoulder, warm and content, ready to drift off to sleep.
Spock, I miss it already. I would really like to go back there someday.
As would I beloved, though perhaps we might return in warmer weather.
Berthe gave the room a thorough cleaning, as was always done after guests checked out. She smiled to herself at the bonbon that had rolled under the bed and the torn panties in the wastebasket.
"Ah, young love!"
The End!
A/N:
Sequel is coming soon, events leading up to the birth of their first child!