"Oh, there you all are," said Allen, entering Margaret's studio where his wife and guests sat. "Sorry, I have to go to work again."

Margaret harrumphed. "Can't they spare you for even a couple days? What is it this time? Is the place on fire?"

"It's more stupid politics," Allen said, his patience with the matter gone. "Angus Pritchard is fighting our proposal because it means he'll have to give us access to his equipment and people. He doesn't want to give up anything. Of course, once we're successful, he'll try to take the credit."

Spock listened. Interdepartmental politics were, unfortunately, universal. He had seen it at the embassy as a child, at the Academy as a cadet and instructor, and even on the Enterprise. It was no different in the civilian world.

"Renata Flores just called me, and she said that he's called a meeting between our departments to 'discuss' the issue." Allen rolled his eyes. "It just means he's going to make a big show of being cooperative without actually being cooperative. And he's having the meeting this afternoon when he thinks I can't make it. Well, big surprise, I'm going to be there."

"And he'll just argue with you again," Margaret said. "That man loves to argue."

Allen shook his head. "I think it makes him feel like he's in control or something. Spock, you're the XO; you run a starship. What do you do when someone argues with you?"

"Few people argue with me," said Spock, but he cast an amused look toward Nyota.

She threw a don't-you-dare-say-it look back at him.

Allen was learning to appreciate Spock's quiet sense of humor. Margaret had shared her observations with him that Spock, like Sarek, communicated a wide range of reactions—one just had to pay attention to his slight vocal inflections, word choices, head angle, posture, and eye movements. Once he looked, Allen found that she was right.

"No," said Allen, "I don't imagine that they do. They'd really come off looking like idiots to the nth degree." An idea popped into his head. "I wonder what Pritchard would do if I brought my science genius nephew along…"

"Allen, you are not going to use him like that!" Margaret exclaimed. "He doesn't need to be involved in your work squabbles."

"Work squabbles? Nah, I just happened to be bringing my nephew along to show him my workplace, and we just happened to walk by the meeting. We have people bring their relatives through all the time. Spock, you wouldn't have to say a word," Allen said. "I've been telling everyone that I've been consulting my nephew in Starfleet for his input. I'd just like to see if Pritchard has the balls to stick to his guns when he sees who my nephew is. It's a litmus test."

Allen's odd idioms aside, Spock thought about it. He did not want to be an influence, even a passive one, in a matter that did not concern him. However, Margaret had become impatient with the constant interruptions during what was supposed to be Allen's time off. If his brief appearance could help close the issue, then it was something he could consider. At the very least, after his and Allen's detailed project discussions during the preceding two days, Spock was genuinely interested in seeing the facilities at Allen's workplace. He might encounter useful approaches or equipment for outfitting the Enterprise's own facilities.

"If your adversary presents a compelling argument, I will be forced to state my agreement with him," Spock warned.

Allen laughed. "If you agree with him, then I'm likely to agree with him, too, so I don't think that's a problem. You'll go, then?"

"I do wish to tour the facility if it is permitted."

"You really do?" Allen asked in disbelief, but happy at the chance to show off to a receptive audience. "Well, then, if it's OK with you ladies, we should get going!"

"Go do what you have to do," Margaret said.

"Have fun," Nyota said. "I'm going to enjoy a nice, long soak in the tub and a nice, long nap while you're gone."

"Please do," Spock said softly as he tilted his head toward her.

In his eyes, Nyota caught a slight glint of…amusement? What was that about?

"I fully intend to," she replied. "Stay out of trouble."

Margaret and Allen laughed as Allen and Spock exited.

-o0o-

True to her word, after Nyota and Margaret had a light lunch, Margaret finished preparing the bathtub for Nyota's well-deserved indulgence. Margaret was happy to provide her guest with this luxury. Who knew when the young officer would have this opportunity again? Sonic showers, not bathtubs, were the norm on a starship.

Margaret was gathering a couple more towels when the front door chime sounded. She was not expecting anyone. She wondered who it was as she opened the door.

"Hi, Ma'am," said the uniformed messenger. "Is this the Grayson residence?"

"Yes," said Margaret.

"I have a package for an 'N. Uhura' in care of Margaret Grayson."

This was interesting. "I'm Margaret Grayson. I'll sign for it."

After finishing with the messenger, she took the package and set it on the small valet table. She heard footsteps as Nyota, in her robe and slippers, descended the stairway.

"Nyota, you have a package. It just arrived."

"A package? Who would be sending me a package here?"

"There's one way to find out," said Margaret, picking up the parcel, walking to the living room, and setting it on the coffee table.

Nyota sat next to her on the couch and opened the box. Inside were two smaller boxes surrounding by colorful package material: one oblong, and a small square one. She opened the oblong box. Inside was a bottle and a note in Swahili. Nyota's smile widened as she read the note. She looked up to the ceiling, reread the note, then laughed. "My certain someone wants to ensure that I achieve 'a high degree of relaxation' today," she translated.

Then Nyota giggled, her eyes darting over the note again. Margaret was sure that there was more in the note than Nyota was sharing.

Nyota picked up the half-sized wine bottle to read the label. "It's chocolate wine! Where did he find this?"

Margaret's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Chocolate wine? I've never heard of it!"

"Oh, it's so good. I had some at a party once, and I told him about how wonderful it was. He remembered." Nyota replayed her last sentence in her mind. "Of course he remembered. He remembers everything. Mmmmm, after a glass of this, a 'high degree of relaxation' is almost guaranteed!"

Margaret laughed, excited to see what was next. "What's in the other box?"

Nyota dug eagerly into the package. "Truffles, a half-dozen! Yum! Wait, here's another note."

Margaret found this entertaining. She never pegged her nephew as the romantic type. Had Sarek ever been this way with Amanda?

Suddenly Nyota doubled over in laughter. "Oh, good thing he went out with Allen because he is so-o-o dead!" she exclaimed. "I can't read this to you; I have to show you."

Margaret looked at the card.

GUIDELINES
-FOOD
-III. Confections
-B. Chocolate
-3. Prohibitions
-iv. Under no circumstances separate a Terran woman from the last confection (e.g., truffle) of any box or container.
-v. Never consume such confections without permission or invitation, implied or otherwise. Even when permission or an invitation is extended, consider the ramifications of such consumption before proceeding.

"There's a story behind this," Margaret stated, hoping that Nyota would share it.

Nyota nodded and giggled some more. "When we started dating, he was confused by human courtship rituals. I told him that, aside from a few general rules, courtship rituals varied between couples. I was joking when I told him that a guidebook would be useful, but he took it literally. A few months later, I found out that he had been compiling one about us!"

Margaret's mouth dropped. "You're kidding!" She had to admit to herself that it was not such a bad idea.

"At first I was embarrassed—I couldn't believe that he had done that—but then I thought it was cute. Vulcans love their rules and guidelines, so it comes with the territory. When he learns something new or makes 'a pertinent observation,' he adds it to the guidelines."

"Oh, that's funny."

"It works out pretty well. He regularly reviews his observations to better understand why I might be happy or why I'm upset." Nyota's eyes started to flash, and her lips thinned in consternation. "But then he's added a couple observations just to tease me…"

"Like this time?"

"Uh-huh. This is payback," Nyota thought twice about telling Margaret more, but this was in good fun. "Two months ago I left a box of truffles out that I bought on Starbase 12. There was only one left, and he ate it. It was my fault—I accidently left the box in his quarters, and I know he likes chocolate. But I harassed him about it anyway. Now I'll have to listen to him quote…," Nyota picked up the card again for reference and stated in her best Vulcan voice, "…Food, Guideline III, Section B, Subsection 3, paragraphs 4 and 5."

Margaret laughed harder after Nyota's Vulcan vocalizations. "If that were Allen, I'd hit him!"

"Well, if I'm not good and relaxed after my bath, my wine, my truffles, and my nap, I might be tempted!" the younger woman replied, then released an exaggerated sigh. "But I won't..."

"Awwww," said Margaret jovially, echoing Nyota's playful, sappy mood. "It looks like there are a few guidelines in there about taking care of you, too. I love a happy ending."

Nyota's face softened as sincerity took over. "I have to thank you again, Margaret, for making us feel so welcome and comfortable here. Spock never would have done this otherwise, and you have no idea what this means to me. If he's started thinking about those crazy guidelines again, then he's thinking about us again. He's not in pure survival mode anymore." Nyota opened her arms wide, then gave Margaret a big hug.

Margaret's heart warmed at hearing this, though she did not believe that she was doing anything beyond being a good host. "Glad to help," she said as the two parted. "I'm sure Allen would agree that you're becoming family to us, Nyota. The two of you will always have a place in our home."

Nyota smiled and brightened at that, picking up her wine and truffles, ready for a nice, long soak.

Margaret stood up. "Let's get you to your bath, My Lady. I'll get you a glass for that wine so you can sip and enjoy!"

Nyota followed her gladly.

-o0o-

Hours later Allen and Spock walked through the front door, mission completed. Allen was in a good mood. Even Spock seemed satisfied when Margaret met them in the foyer.

"So, how'd it go?" asked Margaret.

Allen beamed. "You should have seen their faces when we walked in!"

"Oh, I can imagine."

"I thought Pritchard was going to have a stroke! He was in the middle of telling everyone, including a couple VPs, how 'ill-considered' our approach was and that he couldn't imagine who would have come up with such an idea. Then he said how it was 'too bad' that I was not present for his very important meeting. That's when I was standing in the doorway, and Dr. Lindholm says, 'It looks like he's here.'"

"Is that when Pitchard lost it?"

"No, not yet." Allen could hardly contain himself as he continued. "I said, 'It's my day off, and I'm showing my nephew around. Do you mind if he sits in on this meeting because I think it's very important that I be here, and I don't want to leave him in the hallway.' So Lindholm says, 'Is this the same nephew who's been giving you all the advice over the last couple days? I said yes, and he says, 'Bring him in.' So I did. And all Hell broke loose."

"Oh, do tell!"

"Of course everyone recognized our famous young commander here. But Pritchard starts sputtering—that's the only way to describe it—and he says, 'That is not your nephew.' And then Spock says…tell her what you said."

Spock did not want to repeat what he had said. As he had been with the Vulcan Science Academy ministers years before, he had been flippant in reacting to Pritchard's annoying arrogance.

"C'mon, it was priceless," Allen urged.

"'He does not see the family resemblance, Allen,'" Spock quoted himself finally.

Margaret shook her head in disbelief while she tried to stifle a laugh. "Oh, that was naughty."

Allen became more animated. "It brought down the house. It took at least five minutes for everyone to settle down. I thought Pritchard was going to explode when his own department couldn't help laughing. Finally after we took our seats, Pritchard tried to bluster through the rest of it. Then Lindholm had me to respond to Pritchard's presentation. Lindholm and the other VPs came down on our side. Now we're back on track."

"That's a relief. Now maybe we'll get to see you over the next few days," Margaret declared. "Did you get your tour, Spock?"

"Yes. It was enlightening," he answered, hanging up his coat. "I believe that I will be able to adopt several protocols I observed today."

"He got the grand tour, all right. Dr. Lindholm showed him around personally. He met everyone from the president on down. It turned out rather well. Everyone was impressed and excited to meet him, of course.… So now that we've slain our dragons, we can settle in for a nice quiet evening. How did Nyota like her bath time?"

Margaret smirked. "Well…it turns out that bath time is much more relaxing when you're sipping on a glass or two of chocolate wine. She could hardly make it up the stairs for her nap after she got out of the tub."

Allen squinted. "Chocolate wine? When have we ever had chocolate wine in this house? I've never heard of it."

"Excuse me, I wish to organize my notes," Spock said, maintaining quiet dignity as he picked up the PADD he had temporarily set down, then exited toward the stairs on the way to his room.

"Supper's in two hours," Margaret called to him amiably. "That is, if Nyota can move…"

Allen determined the source of Nyota's wine as Spock quickly retreated while Margaret gently teased him with the tone of her voice. Yes, the kid definitely was starting to grow on him.

-o0o-

Spock went directly to his room, relieved to escape Margaret's light teasing while he added more information and some thoughts to his PADD. It had been a good day. He and Allen had developed a rapport as they discussed many topics, technical and non-technical, during their trips between home and office. Allen talked about humorous mishaps at his company while Spock revealed the many ways that Starfleet Academy cadets had blown up experiments or entire labs during his time as an instructor there. Allen also told Spock more about the Grayson relatives Allen expected to see at the next night's Halloween party so he could be better prepared to meet them.

He concluded his thoughts and returned the PADD to its storage case. He decided to look in on Nyota. In the hallway, he could hear her gentle breathing through the door to her room. He touched the doorknob and slowly pushed down, then gently opened the door a crack.

The window shades were drawn nearly to the bottom of the glass, letting in only a little of the dimming light from outside. In the soft light, she looked tranquil, cocooned in a variety of quilts and pillows. Her eyelids moved as she opened them slightly.

"Hey there, Handsome," she said lazily. "Wanna come in?"

If she was not inebriated, she was, at the very least, extremely relaxed. He widened the door enough to slip in before closing it again. "I did not wish to disturb your sleep," he said softly, walking to the side of the bed. "I trust your bath was satisfactory."

"Hmmmmm," she moaned. "I can hardly move, thanks to you."

"Thanks to me?"

"The wine…thank you. You know how to take care of me."

A sense of satisfaction filled him. After last night's mind meld and this morning's miscommunication, she had been upset. A Vulcan would have relieved distress through meditation. But Nyota was human, so he turned to Terran customs and methods. She often enjoyed wine when she wanted to relax, and she definitely enjoyed chocolate. She had made that clear a couple months back when he mistakenly consumed one of her confections. Although the chocolate's intoxicating effects had already numbed him by time she lectured him about it, he knew that he would have to make reparations. Relaxation and reparations—today it appeared he had achieved both of his objectives.

He sat down on the edge of the bed as she awoke some more.

"How did it go at Allen's office?" she asked.

"The issues have been resolved."

"Good." Nyota's eyes slanted dangerously, and her voice took a sultry timbre. "You deserve a special reward."

"Oh?"

She gestured toward the nightstand on the other side of her. Out of the six original confections, only one remained. She smiled wickedly. "Could I interest you in a truffle, Mister?"

She was tempting him, playing with him. Of the six original confections in the box, she had left the dark chocolate/raspberry crème truffle—his favorite.

The game was on. "I do believe there are guidelines that prohibit me from accepting," he stated. Was he really engaging himself in this?

"Are you sure?" Nyota asked in faux disappointment. "You've broken rules before…." She lowered her voice. "You know that you want it."

"However, I can control myself."

"But you want it. I know you want it." An impish expression crossed her features. She changed tactics. "Why don't you lie down, right here, next to me? Take off your shoes, and relax."

This was interesting. Where was she going to take this? Illogical or not, his curiosity and desire to amuse her prompted him to remove his shoes and recline on top of the covers, resting his head on a pillow. "Perhaps I will meditate now."

She smirked. "Oh, no, no, no…"

"Did you not state that I should relax? Is this not acceptable?"

Nyota was happy that he was playing along with his willful obtuseness. They had had few light moments like this in the past year. She picked up the remaining truffle, leaned over him, and held it over his mouth. "Open up, and then you can relax."

"I doubt that, as I would suffer the consequences according to Food, Guideline III, Section B, Subsection 3, paragraphs—"

"—I guarantee that you'll suffer consequences if you don't shut up and open your mouth," she promised.

His eyes narrowed as he did what she commanded. She put the truffle to his lips, but he took it in his teeth and kept it there. Then he simply stared at her as if he were calculating something.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

Before she knew what was happening, he flipped her onto her back, hands pinning her shoulders. As she opened her mouth to voice her objection, he placed his lips on hers and thrust the truffle into her mouth. Trapping her against her pillows, he kissed her passionately and thoroughly, his pressure keeping the truffle contained in her mouth until she was forced to chew it.

It was hers. He had not succumbed.

When he finally released her, she kept laughing, trying to swallow the last of the raspberry crème. She could not believe what he had just done. "Stubborn Vulcan!" she sneered playfully.

"Terran temptress…," he whispered in return, kissing her neck on his way to her collarbone.

"Oooo, that's a new one, Mr. I-Can-Control-Myself."

Unabashedly smug, he settled back onto his own pillow and closed his eyes.

She snuggled next to him and closed her own eyes. "This isn't over, Spock."

"I am aware of that, Nyota." He took a few deep breaths before sinking into a meditative state.

The pair rested until it was time to prepare for supper.