Chapter Seven

The Question of Consummation

Spock turned to his communication console and turned it on with an appropriate command. In the projected holographic console he typed in the appropriate call number, remarking to the intergalactic operator that it was indeed Vulcan that he wished to speak to.

As expected it was not his father who picked up the transmission.

Savek was usually gone. As an ambassador his obligations were never fulfilled until the day was over. And he could be on three different planets a day. His mother usually took this time to be by herself. An isolation of personal solitude that she said she enjoyed despite being human.

She appeared on the screen suddenly. She was bronze from the Vulcan sun. Her eyes were deep black, emotional and a mirror image of Spock's. She had his narrow face and cheekbones. His lips as well, though hers were slightly larger and feminine. She was beautiful, and her dark black hair was down over a simple white gown.

"My dear son," she said in Vulcan.

Spock greeted her with the Vulcan salute.

"Peace and long life, mother."

"Live long and prosper, my son." She responded in turn.

"It is not yet the twenty third, Spock. Though I know that you are aware of this of course. I am happy that you have called me, but I know that it must be something of dire importance if you have deterred from your usual routine." She said with a slight teasing nature.

"Yes, but I have also…missed you, mother." He said simply and he knew that she of all people would understand the propensity of his words.

She smiled even wider and her hand touched the screen. An illogical urge swept over him and Spock mirrored her motion, holding his hand to the screen as well as if they could touch. He knew this would give her comfort. She was there, by herself. He hoped that the loneliness she spoke of was not plaguing her now.

"I know, son. I have missed you dearly as well."

"Are you content, mother?"

"Your father has been very good to me, Spock-I know you do not believe that. But he has. I wish you would speak with him more. He loves you dearly, but his Vulcan pride prevents him from saying so. I do believe you are probably familiar with that certain illness." She said wryly and her hand dropped from the screen.

"I will speak with father if it pleases you."

"No. Do not speak with him if it pleases me. I wish for you to speak with him to please yourself or him. You both are obstinate and sometimes extremely irritating. I no longer wish to convey emotional output between the two of you. Your father is no longer upset about the Science Academy and if he is you must learn that you are his son. And that is his only concern."

Spock found her argument logical, as usual. Despite being human and displaying unnecessary wit she was habitually logical, never without a reasonable point-even if that point was tainted by emotional factors.

"I know your thoughts, Spock. And I am fine and your father will forgive you. Look at me, Spock. I know you well. Is this call concerning the human woman that you are….courting? I hope everything is alright?"

Spock's eyebrow quirked at her obvious display of insight.

"Yes, everything is fine. She is a very agreeable woman, despite her spontaneity of emotion,"

His mother smiled a tight smile of amusement.

"Ah yes, I remember you told me of her particular spontaneity. A passionate but extremely logical woman with an exemplary aesthetic makeup and obvious self confidence acquired through her efficiency and innovative brilliance. I believe that's how you described her, wasn't it, Spock?" She said laughingly, as if she could forget.

Despite being human his mother was a brilliant woman, a genius in human terms. She had been a teacher prior to marrying his father. She had published several books on education and the purpose of education in cultural settings. She could have been anything she wished, for she possessed as much charm as she did intelligence. But she always preferred a humble life, perhaps that was why Sarek chose her-for her humility and charm. A logical companion to an ambassador.

Humility or no, she was almost incapable of forgetting events and she used this to her motherly advantage.

"Come my, Spock. You sounded so sweet when you spoke of her. I cannot imagine that there is any problem."

Spock pursed his own lips and intertwined his fingers.

"She wishes to engage in further physical contact."

Amanda raised her eyebrow.

"And you do not? Your description of her was exceptionally…I will not say emotional. I do not wish to offend you, son. But it was-expressive, my dear. I assumed that you were attracted to her and would not find any physical interactions disagreeable."

"I do. But I am not sure if this would be wise. I feel that if I were to…engage in further physical contact with her that I might…hurt her. She is a human female."

"And so am I, Spock. And it took physical contact for you to be born." Amanda said amused.

"I do not need to be told the obvious, mother. And father was presumably in more control than I can be. Her presence is distracting and I cannot seem to control my emotions around her. And this…Vulcan urge, this need to mate. I am afraid that I may hurt her."

Amanda's smile widened to the point where Spock saw teeth. It was rare that she gave such a smile. For a human woman she was very self contained, most probably because of her constant contact with Vulcan males. It was rare that she showed such obvious amusement.

"Are you experiencing ponn farr?"

"No."

"Ahh, I see your dilemma my son. Your father had such Vulcan urges before. He was just as confused as you. Your father has before explained to you that Vulcans have emotions sometimes much stronger than those of humans. But your people have learned to contain such emotions, to prevent these emotions from regressing their race into devolution.

It is natural that you feel these urges, and I can tell you as a human female who is married to a Vulcan male that you will not hurt her, son. Now the question is now this-what are your feelings towards her? What has made you feel such raw emotion? You have told me of your fear of hurting her but not of your intentions for mating. Not of the logic behind it. It seems to me that logic obviously does not govern your thoughts with this Nyota. That pleases me, Spock. It means you are capable of love."

She stopped speaking suddenly. Her eyes had darkened, her mouth softened and her human accent was beginning to stain her otherwise flawless Vulcan. She realized what she had said and Spock did not feel slighted by her insults. She was insinuating unnecessary emotions, un-Vulcan emotions. But she did not mean to be insulting. She was still human and his mother. She had seemed hopeful when he spoke of his feelings.

Of love.

The word love is not expressed in customary Vulcan. Her entire dialect was ancient it had to be in order to express the emotions she believed he possessed. The fact that she had to resort to such archaic barbaric language was disconcerting and made the word seem crude. She was speaking in the old dialect, a dialect that was not spoken openly to outsiders. It was shocking as well as intriguing.

Spock had not considered love at all.

He was barely understanding the territorial lust he possessed for her and the fixation of affection and almost near obsession. Love he had not considered and he still did not understand it in the way that humans did. What did it mean to love? To be loved? Was it a chemical process of emotional attachment stored in the neurons of the brain to create an instant reaction for a biological purpose? But if so why was it based so loosely? Without definable measurable qualities?

"I do not understand love. I believe that I love you and father. But that is a love born from family relations, of familiarity and biological necessity perhaps. The love you speak of is….romantic in nature. This love I do not understand. I only understand that I am extremely attracted to her and I possess affection towards her."

"For how long?"

"How long what?"

"How long have you felt this way?"

"…Two years, three days, seven hours, eighteen minutes and fifty seconds."

"How do you feel when you are near her, Spock?"

Spock contemplated her question and allowed his Vulcan memory to pull himself back to the moments when he was in Uhura's presence.

"…Contentment. Excitement. I feel illogically unaware of my reactions to her. I am compelled to initiate empathetic contact. I believe that my body and mind sometimes perceive her as my mate. This is illogical. I have not conducted any prior telepathic bonds with her. In this way I know that my regard of her is not purely a biological degree of intense lust. It is more, but I do not understand it fully."

"You know, Vulcans once considered mates based upon emotions. Upon love and companionship. Not out of necessity."

"You are implying that perhaps I believe her to be my mate because I love her?"

"I cannot say, Spock. Love is an individual emotion that you will know instantly if you allow yourself to. It cannot be analyzed or explain. Will you permit me to give you advice?"

"Of course, mother."

"If she means so much to you I believe it is only logical that you pursue your relationship in whatever direction it may go."

"Your advice is vague and obviously human."

She laughed softly.

"I mean follow your heart, Spock."

"Another human idiom. That is not physically possible considering the location of my h-"

"Forget it Spock, and do not make anymore attempts to make my human words logical! I have already been through a similar occurrence today with your father. His inability to understand human idioms is sometimes exhausting. I referred to such an idiom today in regards to my happiness with the Vulcan Concerto that performed last week, mentioning that the third movement made me feel as high as a kite.

Apparently he assumed that I was consuming an excess amount of foreign opiate and was experiencing the affects. He wished to know my supplier and demanded that I discontinue. I explained the meaning but he was not pleased. He does not like the duplicity of the idiom. It is most illogical to insinuate intoxication and then happiness with the same words, he says. You are lucky my son that you were born with my humor."

Spock's lips quirked up slightly.

His father was worse than him in some situations.

"Spock, I must meet this girl. She seems lovely. Will you promise to introduce me son?"

"Of course mother."

"Good. Now go about your work. Peace and long life, S'chn T'gai ."

"Live long and prosper, mother."

The appropriate Vulcan hand salutes were exchanged and the connection was terminated. The communication signal was dropped, the operator reiterated the dropped call and Spock hung up finally on his end.

Spock stepped away from his monitor to attend to his routine obligations. All the while he considered what his mother had said and he pondered on the meaning of love? What did it mean? It was an unknowable emotion to him. He felt something, something without precedence, but he did not know what it was.

He did not know if he loved Uhura.

She was pissed.

A week, a week had passed since the incident in his office and Spock was alluding her.

She had not had the time to leave campus and he had made an obvious show of avoiding her. Leaving around corners when she arrived, not responding to her calls-that little-ugh. She was very close to just ending this-this whatever type of relationship they supposedly had.

That pointy eared hobglobin-

Uhura rode the trolley to his apartment. The red hovering antique was powered by hydrogen but was formed after the old Terran modes of transportation without the clunky engines and crude design. It rode smoothly up several hills to his apartment, and when Uhura got there she felt less anger but was still irritated.

Uhura pressed the buzzer. A light shined under the door, obviously he was awake. She buzzed the doorbell again and then decided to vent out her frustrations on the door. She pounded on it furiously. How dare he just pretend like he wasn't home.

"Open the door, Spock! Now! I'm tired of this-this-childish behavior! Stop avoiding me and look me in the eye damn it!"

The door wrenched open and a small old woman peeked out.

For a moment Uhura believed that she must have somehow gotten the wrong house but her eyes widened when she realized just who it was.

"D-Dr. Chan-Chansi?" Nyota asked in shock.

"Yes?' Chansi asked with a half smile.

"Umm. What are you doing in Spock's apartment?"

"Afraid I'm trying to use my cougar charms on your logical alien? Hmm? Not that he isn't a fine specimen, ducky-but I'm not his type. You have nothing to worry about, Uhura. Please come in. I didn't answer the door because he was bringing out the chess set from his room. I didn't think it would be proper for me to open the door without his permission."

Spock suddenly appeared behind the counselor, his eyes widened slightly at the sight of Uhura and then turned to Chansi's knowing grin.

"Dr. Chansi and I regularly practice chess at this hour. She competes in human chess tournaments. I assist and brush up on my own three dimensional chess skills." Spock said hurriedly, his usual even tone was rushed and it was almost equivalent to stuttering.

Chansi looked Nyota up and down and then turned to Spock whose face was still impassive but fixated solely on Uhura. Chansi laughed.

"Wow. So…you and Spock? What a sly little ducky, he never even gave me a slight hint-"

"Dr. Chansi-" Uhura began but Chansi chuckled and held up one hand, shaking her head.

"I suppose this can wait another time. Don't worry, your cute little affair is on the mum for now, dears. Though I'm disappointed you didn't give an old woman even the slightest hint, Spock! Now I intend to pester you non stop when you get back."

"Good day, Nyota Uhura."

"Dr. Chansi." Spock started.

"Good day, Spock." Chansi gave them both a conspiratorial wink and then walked out and into the street hailing a taxi by pressing the holographic street lamp.

Spock turned his eyes from Dr. Chansi to Nyota who seemed suddenly embarrassed and foolish.

"Hell. I'm sorry Spock I should have called first but I was upset. How stupid of me. I just assumed-

"I understand. I have not communicated with you or made a seeming attempt to communicate with you since our activities in my office previously. You assumed that I was avoiding you, which is true. But not for whatever reason has made you so obviously indignant. Please, Uhura. Come in." Spock said regaining his composure.

A/N: S'chn T'gai is Spock's supposed name according to a trek novel. Despite it's inability to be said, I believe that his mother of all people should be able to say it, and those fluent in Vulcan.