Chapter 5: Keeping Up with What's Down There

Sickbay, the Enterprise

Inside Dr. McCoy's Office

…

"Uf-wehk? (How many?)" gasped an awestruck Stelendos. "The human clitoris has eight thousand nerve endings? Very remarkable, Dr. McCoy! Humans are more complex than I knew."

Lord have mercy. I love my job, but sometimes I think Starfleet doesn't pay me enough. Dr. Leonard McCoy did his best to maintain a neutral facial expression as he looked at the two young Vulcan men who sat on the other side of his desk.

"Let's back this up, fellas. I brought y'all here to explain that while you're more than welcome to enjoy socializing with the crew, you need to be careful about intimate physical interactions. That's for your benefit and theirs. I understood that y'all had a few questions about human sexuality, but this is information, not instructions."

"Perhaps I make question more clear, Dr. McCoy," Stelendos said. "Instructions are useful to us. Computers give us information on New Vulcan. Elders do teach us about Vulcan sexuality, but we do not have much practical experience with non-Vulcan women -"

"Allow me to provide a correction," Serranstivlen interrupted. McCoy thought that he used his greater height to his advantage, and he was possessed of what humans would call charm and swagger. "Our sexual experience with various beings differs greatly. I, for example, have engaged in sexual relations with -"

"Excuse me, Serranstivlen, I was just thinking," Leonard interrupted, noticing Stelendos' expression. "Pull your chairs over here by the computer. Some things are easier with visuals."

"Dr. McCoy, I have already seen images of unclothed human women," Serranstivlen said.

"This ain't porn, guys. These are three-dimensional medical models of the vulva. I think y'all need a quick and dirty tour. Don't take that literally, it's a colloquial expression," he added.

Dr. McCoy discussed the vulva, the labia majora and labia minora and their wealth of sensory nerve endings. "I should also pass along some advice I heard recently. Not all human women remove their pubic hair, and you can pull very gently on that hair to create a pleasant sensation. You oughta ask if she likes it, of course. If not, try something she does like – that goes for every single thang you do together, really."

"Thank you for the advice, Doctor. I am also curious about the proper stimulation of the clitoris," Serranstivlen said earnestly. "Although I have successfully stimulated several, I intend to improve my technique and expand upon my knowledge of it."

Stelendos agreed, "I would also like to study the clitoris and apply my learning. Perhaps human females would welcome assistance with the care and exercise of the clitoris."

"Uh, the clitoris doesn't exactly need what you'd call exercise, although care and attention are helpful – anyway, let's move on." That's it; I'm asking Starfleet for a raise. McCoy tried not to think too hard about the Saurian brandy stashed in his quarters, and continued.

"Scientists have studied the clitoris for centuries, and they're still learning new things about its role in female sexual response." The doctor tapped in a command and the image changed. "There's so much more to it than the little external nub – it's got a structure behind it that makes it powerful and kinda mysterious."

After describing clitoral structure and function, Leonard crossed his arms and looked at the apprentices. "You do know what the most important sexual organ is - right, guys?"

"Her vulva as a collective unit?" wondered Stelendos.

"Her clitoris?" asked Serranstivlen.

"Her mind." Leonard tapped his forehead for emphasis. "Be one-hundred-percent certain that she wants you before you touch any part of her or no sex should happen. That's the rule I tell all the Starfleet crew, and it's true whether you've known each other twenty minutes or twenty years. Consent first. Then you can have some fun, tease her a lil' bit, ask her how she wants to be touched, make each other happy. Starfleet crew aren't encouraged to fraternize with shipboard guests in intimate ways, but I can't stop you."

Both Vulcans listened intently as Leonard discussed:

Foreplay and arousal, and major nerve pathways – "Don't forget the rest of her body. Remember, you can always ask her as you go along."

Variations in the shapes of vaginas – "Shape, depth and size varies, so what feels good to one woman may not be good for another; ask."

Appearance – "Get down there and look. You ain't never gonna see the same one on different women, and there's no 'right' way for 'em to look on a healthy woman. Learn to enjoy the differences if you plan to go into the vagina business – that's another figure of speech, sorry. Ask her if she's okay with it first."

Lubrication, manual and oral stimulation – "Natural lubrication is affected by hormonal cycles, health, and other factors. Keep your fingernails short and clean. Oral stimulation involves lots of different things – pressure, timing, movement. You'll figure it out if she makes noises, or just ask if she likes what yer doin'."

Penile penetration – "Yes, we know," the Vulcans said. "Ask."

And orgasm. "You ain't got to ask her about that. She'll want it."

"… and that's about it," McCoy finished. "I'm gonna assume you've both got male humanoid genitalia figured out already, since each one of you owns a set. Any questions on that? No?"

"No, I am familiar enough with my own. Thank you very much, Doctor," Serranstivlen said sincerely.

"Thank you, Osavensu (honored teacher) Dr. McCoy. I have learned much in a short time." Stelendos grinned. "I am eager to apply this lesson."

"Slow down; don't go trying to seduce the crew just so's you can get some practice in. Cain't y'all just wait until you return to New Vulcan?"

"Sometimes it is difficult to find someone unbonded and willing on New Vulcan," Serranstivlen said wistfully.

"We traveled to Earth with Donstelralth last year. Few humans avoided social activity with us after we told them that we work as apprentices to a furniture maker," Stelendos said. "Most continued to interact with us."

"Perhaps it will be the same on the Enterprise," added Serranstivlen. "For example, Okosu Uhura speaks to us with respect and kindness, although she has a powerful bondmate. Even Opidsu Spock addressed me with the equivalent of 'Mister'. Perhaps his human blood makes him behave differently? A human bondmate would not be so bad if we lived beside each other, instead of one high and one low."

"I think I understand. It's…difficult, your situation on New Vulcan." Leonard was reluctant to discuss Vulcan class differences. "Try not to get too frustrated, I can't forbid your personal interactions with our crew, but just be considerate."

…

Steap sent the message confirming the next scheduled stop of the Enterprise and his actions of that day. He didn't mention his interaction with Uhura, because he wasn't supposed to draw attention to himself, but even now the memory made him laugh. Everybody on this ship thought they knew everything, could do anything, or they were always asking questions and looking for something. Searching, searching, searching, the whole damned five-year mission. He'd changed his mind about Starfleet only a month into his contract. The alien he'd met in a pub on shore leave introduced him to some even more shady types. They had money. He had access.

The disk in his forearm didn't hurt, but it was inconvenient to wear long sleeves everywhere. He hoped to receive a reply from his contacts quickly. The sooner he got his payment and they removed the disk, the sooner he could flee the Enterprise.

…

Nyota left the gym long after the Vulcans responded to a summons from Dr. McCoy, and Chekov and Miranda were too tired to keep sparring. Her physical tension had finally eased, but some disquiet about the confrontation lingered. Should she tell Spock about Ensign Steap's trash-talking? Maybe it was an aberration, the man's own release of tension following a planetary mission. She'd let it go this time.

She showered and changed, then logged in remotely to the computer in her quarters, a space adapted to share an adjoining wall with Spock's larger quarters. She rarely locked the door leading to Spock's side, though she sometimes closed it to work at her desk or take a nap on the narrow bunk she kept there. Although he verbally expressed support for her need for privacy, Nyota knew that Spock did not really like knowing that she might lock herself away from him; in consideration of his feelings she normally left the door partially open.

Nyota quickly reviewed the daily reports from Communications. A small, peculiar security breach appeared; the food services and replicator menu adjustments were available in shared Communications server space, meaning that anyone in the Communications Division could read the information. Not that anyone would want to, but the information was supposed to be accessible only to certain staff. Nyota contacted Tech about the problem. Finding nothing else unusual other than an announcement of an evening party celebrating the landing party's safe return, she logged out and headed for the cafeteria.

A mid-afternoon coffee break with some of her crewmates usually helped to ease the stress of a long, tense day. Nyota sought to erase thoughts of Steap's rudeness with friendly companions. She stirred cinnamon-flavored sweetener into her cup of brackish, replicated coffee.

Spock caught the wafting cinnamon scent and lifted his left eyebrow fraction of a centimeter.

Ashayam, you know very well that large amounts of cinnamon will cause me to experience a psychoactive and sexual response. Are you amusing yourself at my expense?

Sweetheart, you know that I like cinnamon…and yes, I'm reminding you that we have the same evening schedule tonight. To clarify, we have no schedule…free time. Private time.

Nyota dimmed the bond, and then took an experimental sip.

"Ecch! Even sugary chemicals don't improve that stuff."

"May I recommend that you switch to tea?" asked Spock. "It is unusual for you to consume as much coffee as you have during the past two weeks."

"You know how much I like tea...but when I'm under pressure, caffeine or even the smell of freshly brewed coffee motivates me."

Charlene gently elbowed Nyota. "Maybe you could switch to real coffee beans. If you like, I'll ask Scotty, er, Mr. Scott, if he'll trade for some of it."

Hearing Charlene speak his name, Scotty turned his attention from a sports conversation between Chekov and Sulu to the two women. "So, I've got something you want, ladies? Let's hear it, I'm a soft touch. I may trade, sell, or give it away, depends upon what yer askin'."

A change in posture, the way Scotty leaned forward, the way Charlene rested her hand atop the table near Scotty's, her palm open...Nyota realized that no translation was required.

"May I remind you, Mr. Scott, that Starfleet regulations apply certain conditions to the private exchange of goods aboard ship -" Spock paused as Scotty sighed deeply. "Understood. You do remember."

"Charlene said that you might happen to have some nice coffee beans," Nyota said.

"Did she, now? How well she does know me." Scotty and Charlene smiled at each other for a quick, mutually appreciative moment before he returned his attention to Nyota. "Lieutenant Uhura, I would be delighted to part with a wee bit of coffee on your behalf. I hear they grow it on the planet housing Starbase 231; I plan to stock up and be well fortified for sleepy mornings and late nights."

Again, a sidelong, almost dreamy look at Charlene. Nyota wondered if she should have a private word with her later...but what did she think she was protecting Charlene from? This was none of her business. Scotty was a good-hearted man; maybe they would find some happiness and comfort together, for at least a while.

…

Spock did not completely agree that the completion of a routine planetary survey, even one involving a rescue of stranded Vulcans, justified a party; this did not mean that he intended to miss it. Sociable crew members frequently approached Captain Kirk and First Officer Spock requesting permission to organize parties for such random reasons as holidays on their home planets, the observation of benign astronomical phenomena, birthdays of celebrated persons, or simply to mark the passing of Friday to Saturday during the artificial week of shipboard time. Though illogical, such parties improved morale. Most party requests were approved, often by Spock himself, if Jim were preoccupied with Federation business.

The crew disagreed that parties were illogical – including his bondmate, who dropped her towel, revealed a lovely nude body lightly scented with a cinnamon-tinged soap and lotion, and prepared to don the lacy underwear and the colorful dress spread out on the bed. Nyota, who had earlier seemed distressed by something she refused to discuss, expressed such happiness upon learning that dancing would be involved that Spock ceased commenting on the questionable motives for the party.

Though he rarely said so, Spock looked forward to dancing at parties. Perhaps Sulu and Ensign Jones, two among the roster of music selectors for the evening, would remember the requests he'd placed earlier and play his favorite line dances, complete with logical sung and chanted directions. Slow dancing with Nyota also pleased him; he knew that his bondmate valued the rare opportunities to be affectionate with him in public settings.

Nyota looked over her shoulder at him. "Sweetheart, would you please fasten my dress?"

Spock's warm fingers searched the filmy, smooth fabric, found an absurdly small button and pulled a fabric loop over it. The dress left a small section of Nyota's back exposed. Spock slid his fingers into the opening, stroking the smooth, deliciously scented skin of her back.

"You anticipate vigorous dancing tonight, ashayam? This dress is ventilated."

"Yes, I'm going to put in good floor time tonight, enough to get hot. I hope you'll slow dance with me." Spock leaned down and licked the exposed skin of her back. "Mmm. So is that a yes, Mister?"

His fingers slid below the neckline of the dress and over the top of her breast. "Yes. I will slow dance with you; both at the party," he murmured as he pressed a kiss to her neck, "and here in our quarters afterward." Spock turned her to face him and embraced her. "Algid-17 was too cold to be agreeable. I request your assistance in completely thawing me later tonight."

Nyota smiled at him. "Ooh, I'd love to help thaw you out, Mr. Spock. Tell me exactly what I can do to warm you up."

"I shall need to be kissed," he murmured, "and held. Bites to various parts of my body will affect my circulation." One big hand covered the small of her back and pressed her closer to him. "If you will admit me to the warmest, softest place of all, both of us will be satisfied. To be certain, I will work hard to ensure that both of us enjoy the process...even if it takes most of the night."

"Um, we could be late to this party, you know," Nyota said, reaching back toward the fastening of her dress.

"We would very likely miss the majority of the social interaction if we did," Spock replied, gently moving her fingers away from the button. "I prefer to engage in more than a 'quickie' tonight, if you are amenable." He gazed down at her with a warm half-smile on his face. "Appropriate descriptors for what I want to do with you tonight may be expressed as single words. Slow. Close. Hot. Deep." He stroked the side of her face. "Does this appeal to you?"

"How can I resist a promise like that? All right, my love, I'll wait."

...

The Yeoman – that was the Standard word for her title, although the fit of her uniform made it very clear she was female – smiled up at the tall Vulcans. Chekov issued one invitation verbally, while the young blond woman's eyes made Serranstivlen think she invited him to something else. Serranstivlen gave her a lazy, alluring half-smile.

"Come wiv us to the party. You will meet and talk to many people on crew, and zere is food and drink also." Chekov searched the impassive faces of the Vulcans, seeking some reaction. "Also zere is music. Sometimes we dance."

Both Vulcans stood up a bit straighter.

"Dancing? Interesting."

"Eh...you like dancing?" Chekov asked, baffled.

One corner of Serranstivlen's mouth turned upward. "Dancing is a useful form of cross-cultural education. Opportunities to dance on New Vulcan are rare, though they exist, and we usually dance alone instead of participating in partner dances with...touching," he said, casting a pointed look at the Yeoman. He uncrossed his bare, muscular arms, somehow flexing his biceps while he did it. Both the Yeoman's and Chekov's eyes widened.

Chekov realized that Vulcans could indeed flirt, but thought it unwise to comment.

"So...Vulcans can dance," he faltered.

Serranstivlen smiled with both sides of his mouth then. "Yes. A little."

Vulcan vocabulary in this chapter:

Ashayam=beloved.

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