Osmosis – Chapter 19: Enough Love in Any World

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek (aside from my original characters and storylines) & do not profit from depictions of Trek characters.

Warnings this chapter: allusions to sexuality. NSFW, not for underage readers.

…

A Quiet Spot on the Beach at the edge of Port Town

Planet Alpha Cachette

"I request that both of you remain within my sight. Miss Masters, speak for as much or as little time as you need." Donstelralth inclined his head toward Charlene in a courtly manner, and then settled down on a weathered log to wait for his wayward apprentice to talk semi-privately with the Lieutenant.

Charlene smiled gratefully at the elder Vulcan. She and Stelen walked a short distance away and sat down facing the water.

"Forgive me, please, for touch and kiss earlier," Stelen said after a brief silence. "I did not ask you. I am sorry."

"You're forgiven. I think that I understand why you did it."

"They talked with me. New Vulcan is not open to humans in most ways...but I believe it will change someday. You could be an engineer there." Charlene gave him a sad little half-smile, and Stelen sighed. "I know Starfleet claims you."

"Stelen, I made a promise and I've got to honor it."

"Yes. I also must complete apprentice contract. Please tell me..." he inhaled, turned to face her. "Do you want bonding ceremony with Engineer Scott?"

"Honestly, I don't know yet; it's just too soon to say. I worked with Scotty and we became friends. Now we're beginning to know each other in a different way."

"Hm." He paused, as though searching for the right Standard words. "That way before bonding is good if you have choices. Not many choices on New Vulcan."

"Stelen, you won't be alone for long."

"You do not want me? Better someone else should have me? "

"I didn't say that!"

Stelen's gaze was suddenly piercing. "You do want?"

"I...I do care," Charlene admitted, "but I can't have both of you! I doubt that Scotty would accept the idea and I can't imagine you doing it either. No matter how I feel, I will not deliberately hurt Scotty. I don't want to hurt you either, but, well, time wasn't in your favor. Or our favor, or something. This isn't easy for me, Stelen."

"No. Also not easy for me. But you come to talk with me." His fingers moved across the sand toward hers, but he stopped himself. "Brave and good, it makes me want you more."

Charlene clasped his strong, calloused hand for a moment, and then let it go. She suddenly wanted to cry. "Oh, honey. Someone else without contracts and commitments, with a free heart is going to realize how special you are, and I'll feel jealous. Someday things will change for you."

Stelen looked skeptical. "I will think about work until that time comes. Finish apprenticeship."

"You'll make an excellent carpenter. You're very focused."

"True. If I want something I pursue it." Stelen held eye contact for a few seconds longer than usual, and Charlene felt a little flutter in her stomach.

"May I send you a simple message sometimes?" Stelen asked. "I promise, no poetry." He managed a wry half-smile.

It would be better to refuse, but Charlene couldn't accept the idea of never learning anything more his life. "Oh...let's wait a little while to do that. But yes, a message once in a while, that would be nice. I want to know what happens to you." She stood up. "We may see each other again before the Starfleet crew returns to the Enterprise. Sometimes I'll be with Scotty. I know it will be awkward but I won't ignore you; I'd prefer to treat you as a friend. At least we can greet each other. All right?"

"Acceptable."

"Just imagine – I may hear news of your bonding ceremony before another year goes by."

"May...be." He pronounced the Standard word in two separate syllables. "Always I will remember you."

"You know that I won't forget about you either. I'd better go now. Thank you for hearing me out, Stelen."

"Yes. I want best things for you, Charlene. I want you to have good life."

"I wish a good life for you, too."

Stelen watched Charlene leave. Her orange, white, and green print dress fluttered in the light wind.

This is not over, he decided.

Measure twice, cut once.

…

A Private Building on Alpha Cachette

Had a giant scooped up a handful of Alpha Cachette's lush green countryside and packed it into a big terrarium? Nyota looked around the private space she'd asked Spock to rent for their tryst. Dozens of plants - some flowering - and several small trees grew below the curving glass ceiling. Paths between rows of plants led to kitchen, dining, bathing and seating areas set behind walls. High walled sections, tinted glass, and outdoor plantings made the space private. The house was pleasantly filled with greenery and natural light, yet appeared difficult to see into from the outside.

When she'd whispered her fantasy to Spock, Nyota hadn't expected him to find a botanical garden. She'd expected a few large houseplants, or maybe a small greenhouse adjoining a small cabin. Leave it to the Vulcan to seek out an environment embodying her sensual nature, which was just as powerful as Spock's. By now she knew that she and her bondmate were well matched in that sense.

You two are such a pair of lechers. I stood a meter away from you and Spock and thought my hair would catch on fire from the heat of your repressed libidos. Are you sure neither one of you has an Orion in your backgrounds? Gaila once joked after watching Spock and Nyota maneuver around each other during a formal reception, barely able to wait until they returned to their hotel room. Ultimately they hadn't been patient, and Spock later muttered an expression of gratitude for deserted libraries and the coverage provided by the high-necked collar on his dress jacket.

Breathing a deep sigh, Nyota relaxed and felt the calmness of the space ease away the tension of the past several days. It was warm, clean and quiet except for the faint sound of fans circulating fresh air, and water dripping from the leaves of a few plants.

Nyota checked the chronometer on her communicator. Spock would arrive within the hour. She thought of the curve of his mouth, his chest, and the musculature of his back as she washed and rubbed a lotion containing cocoa butter into her skin (the look on Spock's face earlier that afternoon suggested that additional stimulation by chocolate-related means might be unnecessary, but Nyota knew that they both enjoyed the scent and feel). She changed into the lingerie she'd brought: a short white slip, an old-fashioned garter belt, stockings, and absurd little heeled shoes she'd rarely consider wearing anywhere else. The air felt slightly too warm for the stockings but Spock had a fondness for legs so she might not wear the stockings for long.

Rolling the last of the stress out of her shoulders, Nyota explored the greenhouse. She found a long, narrow bed sitting in a rectangular space surrounded by large potted plants. It was too small for one person; maybe it wasn't a bed at all. She walked on, admiring the leaves in different tones of green, purple, and colorful flowers, before she found a real bed: simple, broad, and made up with clean sheets in the Earth style. An exploratory bounce indicated that the mattress was comfortably firm.

Her thoughts wandered to Charlene and Stelen. There were times when a person wished with all one's heart that you knew exactly the right thing to say. Had anything she'd said truly helped her friend? The empathy she'd felt for Charlene reminded Nyota of her own troubles. Many well-meaning folk had warned Nyota away from Spock. There isn't enough love in any world to protect you from what you'll suffer if you choose him. Everyone had been right in some ways, but they'd also been wrong. Love was constant between she and Spock, but their circumstances changed with every mission or visit home.

What would happen to Charlene if she loved Scotty? Or Stelen? Would one man challenge the other? Charlene's evasion of Spock's question crept back into Nyota's mind. What if Charlene cares for both of them? Has anyone asked her?

Shaking her head, Nyota looked around for distraction and found it.

"Ooh! Goodness gracious...Spock can be so literal." The red velvet swing hung from a sturdy-looking metal frame attached to the ceiling beams.

Nyota ran a hand over the soft red fabric cover, recognizing the cloth as a washable fabric with a velvety surface popular for use in bed linens and furniture in certain Risan hotels. She'd been teasing when she murmured something about a swing and licked Spock's ear, but here it was. The padded seat looked comfortable. Why not? She hadn't swung in years and Spock was not there to see her being silly.

Nyota climbed up onto the swing and grasped the cushioned hand grips on the bars of the swing. Her feet touched the floor just enough for her to back up and push herself into motion. Giggling, she leaned back and pumped, shifting her weight and using her feet to increase her momentum, leaning back and looking up through the glass panels of the ceiling.

Sky and clouds were visible through the lightly tinted glass; she guessed that the glass was one-way, allowing sunlight to nurture the plants while protecting the privacy of the structure's occupants. The tops of the tallest plants brushed the panes.

The door at the end of the room opened, and Spock stepped through. His muscular arms and chest were well defined in a close-fitting black T-shirt, and his slim black trousers hugged his strong legs. He removed his boots, and then approached her, his bare feet making little sound on the stone floor and none at all on the broad, thick carpet placed below the swing.

Spock's appreciative gaze moved over her body, along her open thighs and under the short skirt of the little chemise. Nyota let the swing slow down as he came near. He reached out toward the bars, carefully stopping the movement.

"Sweetheart, thank you. This place is wonderful."

Spock took one of her hands in his and kissed it. "I suspected that you might not resist the appeal of the swing."

"You know me well." She smiled flirtatiously at him.

"Perhaps not as well as I thought." He held the bars of the swing in both hands, stood between her open thighs. "Although your fantasy seemed illogical and capricious it appealed to me. This way of pleasing you presented me with some challenges. However, the culture of Alpha Cachette considers sensuality important to the well-being of its people. The resources of the Women's Orgasm Committee are extensive."

Nyota remembered the happy-looking woman from the party who had flirted with Dr. McCoy. "You actually told the WOC chairwoman that we wanted a place to -"

"There is no need for shame. The Committee manages such services expertly through encrypted transactions. All that will be known is that two beings made use of this place."

"It's sweet of you to indulge me," she said softly. "Thank you."

"Ashayam, our private time is mutually beneficial." They kissed for a long moment, only their lips touching. When Spock drew back his eyelids looked heavy, and his face and his bottom lip were flushed with green.

"Shall we make good use of our time, tal-kam?" he asked, and she recognized the deeper timbre his voice gained when he was aroused.

"Ground rules. I say frenelle, you stop."

"Agreed."

"What's your word?"

"Nyota...we have not been physically intimate recently. I am willing to command, to obey, or to cooperate. I desire no safeword."

"Ah." Her heartbeat quickened. "I understand. So we'll play. You lead first."

Spock's voice was stern but his eyes gleamed with wicked anticipation. "You will address me as Commander during this private meeting, Lieutenant, until granted permission to address me by name."

"Of course, Commander. I will attempt to follow the rules. Sir...may I inquire as to whether you are in possession of the gloves I described in my request?" she asked.

One corner of his mouth curved up in a half-smile as he pulled a pair of short black gloves from his back pocket. The material on the back of each black glove looked soft, like suede; the fingers were smooth. Spock held up one hand and pulled a glove over it, spreading his fingers as he smoothed down each finger suggestively. Nyota's lips parted as she watched him repeat the action with the other hand, and she drew in a shaky breath.

"I want you to touch me with those so badly," she whispered.

"'Badly'?" Spock moved closer; Nyota felt the cloth of his trousers against the inside of her thighs. He cradled the back of her neck in one big hand and ran his fingers along her vertebrae. The leatherlike material of the palm of the glove felt smooth and his heat radiated through it to her skin, making Nyota moan.

Spock released her and turned his hand so that he could stroke her neck and collar bones with the brushed, suedelike side of the glove. Spock watched Nyota's dark eyes dilate as he tantalized her with his warm, insistent touch, tracing patterns over the tops of her breasts, swirling along the lacy trim of the little white chemise. Her lips parted again as she tried to catch her breath. Spock took it as an invitation and leaned forward for an openmouthed kiss, brushing his tongue against hers. When he pulled away Nyota looked dazed.

"You want me to touch you 'badly'? To the contrary, Lieutenant; I intend to touch you very well indeed."

To be continued...