Chapter 15 - Vulcan Ears and Wet T-Shirts


Two stunning women sat talking over the remnants of their lunch in the far corner of the little bistro on level 3. However, currently, the few other patrons remaining noticed them less for their beauty than for the fact that one of them seemed to be choking and pounding a fist against her chest to try to clear her lungs.

"Are you alright?" Her friend was mildly alarmed.

"Fine...::cough::...I..just shouldn't..::cough::..laugh and drink...::gasp::..at the same time." She finally took a regular breath and then tried another before replying. "I can't believe you got him to agree to that!"

Selina shrugged. "It is not my fault he never read Tom Sawyer. The difficult part was convincing Spock that we were discussing something else entirely so he would play his role correctly and not give the game away. That Vulcan honesty can very inconvenient at times." She shook her head sadly. "He would have just asked Tim to replace him, and wound up owing his obnoxious roommate a favor for something I was reasonably sure I could get him to beg to do."

"Well, he does sound like a total hound," Nyota said.

"Hound? He was the worst man-slut in the history of the Academy." She winked. "But don't tell your Captain. I have probably already done enough damage to his ego."

Nyota laughed. "Now I know why Spock was so sympathetic when he learned I was spending my nights in the lab because of my Orion roommate."

"Tim would make your Orion roommate look like a prude. He had twice your Captain's hormonal overload and a quarter of his intelligence," she replied with a grimace. "But he proved useful in this case."

"Well I'm glad you at least got Spock out of actually judging," Nyota giggled. "He really had no clue what a wet t-shirt contest was until you explained it to him?"

"He would never have told the manager he could cover it if he had. Remember, he had not even spent a year on earth yet and it is not exactly something he would have ever encountered on Vulcan." She snorted a small laugh. "And the title does make it sound like 'some sort of washing contest'. To this day explaining the parameters of such a contest still counts as one of the most awkward conversations I have ever had with him. At first he thought I must be playing a joke."

Nyota could just imagine Spock caught between disbelief and using every ounce of control to keep his ears from turning very green as the parameters of the contest were made clear. "I guess I would have thought so too in his position. I still find it difficult to believe anyone would participate in those things."

"As do I," she agreed. "Probably at least half the reason Tim decided to try to force me into it once he realized he had been had."

Nyota raised her eyebrows inquiringly.

"Like the consequences of his insistence that he had some responsibility to supervise the event, I am not going to tell that part," she said, adding with a smile. "However, you may tell Spock he has my permission to tell that it to you privately. I am very curious as to whether he really would."

"You're awful!" Nyota teased. "You have to at least tell me how you got Tim back."

"Got him back?" Selina was innocently toying with the linguini remaining on her plate.

"I may have only just met you, but I think we have enough in common to think it had to be good. I know if someone tried to involve me in one of those things, the payback would be immediate and it would be harsh."

"I am afraid I was not as strong then as I am now," she said a bit sheepishly. "I am ashamed to admit it, but I fled to the ladies' room. It was Spock, in fact, who avenged my honor."

"I thought Vulcan's didn't engage in things like payback?"

"Not payback specifically. But half of diplomacy is little more than an elaborate version of 'the carrot or the stick'. Spock is an ambassador's son. He understands the logic in the measured application of retribution."

.


Selina burst through the restroom door only to be confronted by her own image in the mirrors. Her previously modest cotton blouse was now sodden and obscenely revealing and she was shaking with shame and outrage. She wasn't even certain if she was more angry at Tim or at herself. Surprise and shock had caused her shields to waver and then buckle under the onslaught of the crowds' reaction. She had not allowed that sort of thing to happen since her first year on earth.

S'lina? She sensed Spock's mind tentatively reaching for hers. She was angry with him too. If she had not allowed herself to form such an empathic link with the stubborn, hopelessly naive Vulcan, she would not be in this situation.

Go back to hiding behind your bar, she thought - and instantly regretted it when she sensed him recoil. Having just fled herself, she could hardly blame him for his own 'strategic retreat'. That blonde 'accidentally' falling into him in the doorway had really been the last straw.

But she would apologize later. First, she had to restore herself. She took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. You are not a beast; your emotions do not control you. She visualized herself surrounded by the rising flames of her own emotions, and then chose to step out of them. She stepped away and concentrated on the Principles, the pure beauty of logic like cool air drawn into scorched lungs. The fire diminished. She banked it and slowly began to mentally encase it in walls of glass and ice...

A knock on the door interrupted her meditation and a young woman burst in. "Oh my God. Are you alright?"

She realized her lack of expression might look to another like a sort of shock. "I am...alright." Her shields by long practice had returned of their own accord as she practiced the discipline.

"Well, Spock asked me to bring you these." The woman handed her Spock's light jacket and someone else's t-shirt. It read:

"There are only 10 types of people in the world: Those who understand binary, and those who don't".

Allen? She sincerely hoped he was standing in the shade. Allen was the whitest person in the history of Caucasians and his shoulders would surely burn in nanoseconds without cover.

"Kindly inform them that I will return momentarily," she said while slipping off her top and replacing it with the t-shirt. "And please thank Allen and ask him to remain inside with Spock to avoid burning."

"Okay. But Spock isn't inside anymore."

"He is not?" That probably was not a good thing.

"No. He was headed toward the contest when he asked me to bring these to you."

Selina quickly tied Spock's jacket around the soaked material at her hips and rushed out. She arrived outside to see Spock advancing on Tim, who was backing into the center of the contestants' circle.

"...and since you appear unable to grasp the concept of your 'Golden Rule', it seems a practical demonstration may be in order." Spock looked past Tim and his voice rang out in command tone. "Hold him."

Several contestants jumped forward and grabbed Tim's arms. Selina was impressed. If he could get a response like that as a plebe, Spock would make a fine commander one day. Of course, Tim was not inclined to really protest buxom, revealingly clad women grabbing him - at least not until the water hit him square in the face, hard, and then soaked him thoroughly. The crowd roared with laughter as Tim sputtered and Selina's heart warmed with a sort of pride. Spock had not only learned something from her; he was actually applying it.

Spock backed Tim into the contestants line. "As you have taken the place you intended for my friend, it would seem we need a new judge," he observed.

"You do it, Spock!" someone called out.

"Tell us which one is the logical choice!" another voice added to a wave of laughter.

Spock turned toward the voices and she saw his face. Wow. Vulcans must have extra muscles in their foreheads. She was reasonably certain no human could lift a single eyebrow that high.

Despite his expression, the crowd was starting to chant for him. This could go so wrong in so many ways. She was just about to come forward to find a way to intervene, when Spock held up a hand for quiet.

"As I have not seen the contest in its entirety, I believe I am unqualified to render a legitimate decision." He scanned the crowd. "Allen, may I prevail upon you to become our replacement?"

Allen flushed, but nodded and stepped forward. Selina wanted to kick Spock. He had gotten out of it smoothly, but poor Allen was going to blush and stutter and probably wind up with sun stroke. That's why they hadn't asked him in the first place.

Well, she could at least help him with part of that. She pushed up onto the stage. "Sorry. Since I can not return your shirt at the moment, maybe this will at least keep you from burning," she whispered as she draped her wet blouse around his shoulders. Then she reached up and kissed him on the cheek, saying "thank you" just loudly enough for it to carry.

Allen blushed nearly as red as his hair, but the look he shot Tim was pure triumph. Then she turned and followed Spock back into the bar and sat down at her usual seat.

"You appear to be recovered," he commented, placing a cup tea in front of her.

"Yes," she replied. "You did well, by the way. Other than putting poor Allen on the spot, that is."

At that moment a cheer could be heard from outside and one of the contestants came bouncing forward, threw her arms around Allen and gave him an extremely enthusiastic kiss. Allen was beet-red, but all smiles when she released him.

Surveying the scene, Spock tilted his head a bit to the side. " 'Poor Allen' does not appear unhappy," he observed. "May I pose a query?"

She nodded.

"Why did you and that other woman kiss him?"

"It is a way of expressing gratitude." Then, thinking about who she was explaining this to, she added, "It is usually reserved for a female expressing gratitude to a male. She is thanking him for selecting her. I thanked him for his bit of chivalry in lending his shirt."

"Indeed." He regarded her warily for a moment. "You did recognize my actions as atonement rather than ...chivalry?"

"Even had I not, I would never thank you in that manner," she assured him.

He nodded, and something tugged at the corner of his lips. "In that case, 'You are welcome'."

Her eyebrows shot up, but then she sighed. "I suppose I deserved that. I would prefer to feel as a normal human does, but I find I cannot allow the disciplines to lapse so much without consequences. I will not let it happen again."

Spock tilted his head again. "Another query: are you certain Allen understood your intent?" Allen was one of Spock's very few human friends. He was often in the bar and sometimes played chess with her when Spock was busy, but he had never made any move on her.

"I am sure he understands. Besides, if I have called attention to his kindness correctly, he may gain his own fan club." She allowed a small smile to form. That would really drive Tim crazy.


.

"So you did get him back!" Nyota crowed. "And I'll bet Allen definitely got that fan club."

"Yes. Unfortunately, Spock regained one too. And drawn from the pool of women who attend those sort of contests." She shook her head and briefly covered her eyes with a hand as though to block the memory. "But it did annoy Tim no end. Even better was the picture of him in the local news service. The headline read:

'Cadet Becomes 1st Male Contestant in Local Wet T-Shirt Contest'. "

Nyota laughed, half-wishing there had been some way she could have done that Kirk. "That's perfect!"

"And to make sure no one missed it, Allen hacked the campus news at the beginning of fall semester to make sure it came up as the top story for a week." Selina chuckled.

"Hmm. I think Spock may have been more perceptive than you give him credit for." Nyota said. "Sounds like Allen liked you."

"Just because Spock refuses to recognize emotions in himself, does not mean that he cannot recognize them in others," she allowed, but then scoffed lightly. "Of course, Cyrano did not have to be too perceptive to know of Christian's interest."

"Cyrano?" Nyota was confused.

"As in the Cyrano de Bergerac of the play by that name," she said. "Not that Spock was attempting to write romantic letters - thank all that is holy! - for Allen to send to me. However, for weeks he had been inquiring about the various ways men at the bar had been trying to pick me up and my responses to them. He claimed to be curious about the human process for selecting mates, which I suppose was at least half-true, but he was also using the information to coach Allen on my specific preferences."

Nyota was trying not to laugh at Selina's indignation. "He succeeded, didn't he?"

"Yes. But after a quite pleasant date with Allen, I saw..." she blushed and waved a hand vaguely. "Telepathic control ...intimate contact ...I am sure you understand."

"Oh dear." She did. The first time she and Spock had done rather more than just brushing lips, she had caught glimpses of his thoughts - and he had immediately pulled away. "I guess that was it for poor Allen."

"Actually I went out with him for a little while. I could not remain angry with him. He had after all shown remarkable intelligence and resourcefulness in enlisting Spock's aid, and," she tilted her head and arched an eyebrow, "he was unexpectedly good at kissing."

"However, I was furious with Spock," she continued, "which confused him no end. To his mind, Allen met my criteria and had shown the wisdom to only approach me through chess and political discussion. So when Allen confessed his interest to him, but did not believe he had any chance, Spock decided that helping him would be logical."

Now Nyota was trying very hard not to laugh. Her Spock, playing matchmaker!

"I know it made sense to someone whose own betrothal was arranged, but I told him that he ever did anything like that again, I would give the code to his room to every single member of the fan club." Selina blew out a long breath. "To think I even explained my scoring system to him!"

"Scoring system?"

"I could not leave Spock to the predations of his fan club, but hardly a night went by without several men approaching me." She shook her head. "Human men can be remarkably persistent, even in the face of consistent and unqualified rejection. So to lessen the annoyance I made a game of it, scoring them by my own criteria."

Nyota was nearly shaking with laughter, both because only a woman raised on Vulcan would come up with the idea of evaluating pick up attempts by an orderly scoring system, and because it occurred to her that Kirk had played that game and lost big. "So...can I ask how the Captain scored?"

"2.3. He got 5 points for asking what I was reading and trying to engage in conversation about it, but lost points for style and that lame 'do you come here often?' line," she explained matter-of-factly. "For perspective, it would take a score of at least 50 to even obtain my communicator code."

Oh, she was going to store that piece of trivia for just the right moment! "So when you said that Spock could give the Captain pointers..."

"I was completely serious," she said. "Though I knew it would be taken as a joke. Indeed, until his association with you, I had thought he understood only in so far as having a quick grasp of game theory."

"Well, I certainly hope I'm more than game to him."

"Much more." she said, her eyes serious for a moment. Then breaking into an evil grin, she added, "But if you need any more assurance, now that I know you personally, I think the sort of revenge we might extract jointly should be more than deterrent enough to keep any sentient male from playing games."

"No wonder Spock says you're unsettling." Nyota grinned in return.

She waved a hand dismissively. "Spock occasionally needs unsettling. I might not have such a marvelous new sister if I had not unsettled him."

Hmm.

"Really? When you knew a little Swahili, I figured you must have known about us for some time. But I always thought it was his mother who had pushed him a little in that respect."

"Ms. Greyson would never have directly interfered in her son's choices in such a matter. Especially after she had promised Sarek to go along with the traditional arranged Vulcan marriage," she said with a feigned look of shock. "It was my mother who asked me to contact Spock ...although there may have been some collusion."

Nyota had spoken to Spock's mother on a few occasions. She could picture the Ms. Greyson she remembered, gently but significantly dropping a hint of motherly concern to Ms. Chandri, knowing something would be done, but she would still be able to honestly tell Sarek that she had not interfered.

"So you went to check up on him, like at the bar?"

"Not exactly. At the time I was assigned to an embassy on Tau Omicron VII, so I had to work long-distance. It took me nearly a month to get him to admit he was in love with you."

"Spock told you he was in love with me?" Nyota was incredulous. That was considerably more than he had actually said to her as yet.

"Technically, he admitted to holding you in unusually deep regard and being disturbed by the degree to which he found your presence preferable to your absence." Selina rolled her eyes. "For him, that is practically a love sonnet. Even then it took another three weeks to persuade him to pursue you."

"At least I didn't make any more work for you," Nyota said, looking away to avoid blushing any more than she already was. "I didn't exactly take a lot of pursuing. In fact, once I got to know him, I think I was the one doing most of the pursuing."

Selina was giving her an odd look, but looked away herself when Nyota met her eyes. Huh. "Is there something I'm missing here?" she asked suspiciously.

"No. I am sure that it is just that Spock is not exceptionally perceptive, and I could not accurately access the situation when I was not around to directly observe. Someday we will have to compare timelines." She looked at her chronometer. "But right now Len has probably gathered enough data on burning ears and I require time to mediate and prepare before this evening's function. And you should prepare too. I apologize in advance for forcing you into what will doubtless be a boring evening, but the Trubese will adore you and so I intend to have you there."

"You're going to straighten things out with Adm. Pike?"

"If I cannot reached him, I will resort to asking your Captain directly." She gave a wicked smile. "Spock will disapprove, but I am not above leveraging Mr. Kirk's foolish interest to accomplish my goals."


AN: A bit long, but somehow the characters just keep suggesting back story to me and I have to find a way to work it in.