Author's Note: In Chapter 11, Spock goes to his teahouse to reflect on his conversation with Sevat, but unexpectedly finds Uhura. The Vulcan takes the time to explain to her the source of the word, Ashayam.

Your comments are always welcome.

At the House of Diarmuid, a teahouse owned by Spock in the city, Uhura sat at a secluded corner table with the middle-aged manager and establishment namesake. Between them are two teacups, a tin of tea, and a pot with a digital thermometer inserted in the ceramic vessel. Dressed in a plain t-shirt and slacks, Uhura's jacket sat draped across the back of her chair. Although it is only 9:13 PM, she could not help from yawning, despite the fact it was Friday night and the place was buzzing from its many patrons.

"That's the third time you yawned tonight." The Irishman commented. "Is this a good time for you to be doing this?"

"Sorry . . . I didn't get much sleep last night."

"You could have caught a nap before you came over."

"I didn't have a chance to close my eyes for a second. This morning I taught a class that was followed by a seminar I elected, even though I'm finished with my own coursework. Then, the afternoon was taken up by my second attempt at one of my comprehensive exams. I barely had time to get something to eat, before going to choir practice and coming here."

"Girl, it's a wonder you're still able to sit up. You know, you could have canceled this evening's session."

"In two months, I haven't missed one of my scheduled lessons and I don't mean to start now." She checked the thermometer. "The temperature is at 185°. Should I add the tea leaves now?"

"Not so fast, girl. I told you it had to be at 180°."

"180°." Uhura repeated as she entered a note on her mini-iTablet.

"I doubt if that Vulcan shithead is going to appreciate all of the trouble you're going through."

"Diarmuid," she warned, "You know I don't stand for you calling him names like that. And, I'm not doing this just for him. It's for me, as well. Tea is something that he is obsessive about and I want to learn all about it."

"So, you can please him."

"You make it sound as if there's something wrong with that."

"Ordinarily, it would be fine, but Uhura you know he's not human."

It was not the first time Diarmuid had raised her anger during these sessions, but she felt especially sensitive from lack of sleep. "You're saying it as if it is an insult. And, you know, he is biracial."

"I'm not making any offense, girl. It's just a fact. And, you know as well as I he identifies himself as Vulcan and he don't ever try to qualify it."

"So, what are you trying to say?"

"If you want to please a Vulcan, you're going to have to think like a Vulcan."

"That's where you're wrong, Diarmuid. Like anyone else from a different ethnic group, Spock wants me to appreciate and respect his culture. He doesn't want me to transform myself into something I'm not. Being an African woman is an intrinsic part of me. So, the way I choose to please him has got to be a function of who and what I am."

"Ain't you the sassy one, tonight? And, don't tell me Spock's not rubbing off on you. You're getting quite a sharp tongue, young lady."

"Why give him all the credit?" She retorted. "I've known how to dish it out long before I met Spock."

Diarmuid wet his lips suggestively. "That Vulcan don't know what to do with you, does he?"

Uhura gave him a you don't really think I'm gong to answer that question look.

"Diarmuid." A patron called to him.

The Irishman turned his head toward the caller. "Brother, can't you see I'm busy over here? Miriam can get you what you want."

"She's swamped serving others and we've been waiting for nearly 15 minutes."

"15 minutes! Oh, my! Well, let me just get on up, right now!" Diarmuid exclaimed without moving an inch.

"Go on, Diarmuid, before you lose a customer." Uhura advised.

"This is the best damn teahouse in the city and that guy knows it. He ain't going no where."

"The temperature of the tea is almost down to 180. I'll add the tea leaves at that time like you advised. Now, go on. I'm not paying you to lose business."

Diarmuid reluctantly rose from his seat. "Now, Uhura, you know you need to quiet down with that bit of news. If that Vulcan ever found out you're paying me, it would really set his green blood to boil."

"Diarmuid, why would Ms. Uhura provide you with any form of compensation?"

While neither Diarmuid nor Uhura had seen Spock enter the establishment, his voice was unmistakable. Diarmuid turned his body to face the Vulcan and stepped to the side to reveal the East African. However, to the Irishman's dismay, Spock's intense glare remained on target.

Diarmuid attempted to muster a weak smile, although he knew it would have little effect in softening the Vulcan's stern demeanor. "Hey, boss. Didn't expect to see you here tonight."

"Obviously. Now, you will answer my question. Why would Ms. Uhura provide you with any form of compensation?"

Uhura rose to her feet in the manager's defense. "Spock, lay off of him. I asked Diarmuid to perform a service for me and I wouldn't allow him to do it unless I paid him for his trouble."

"Identify this service, Diarmuid."

"He was . . ." Uhura began before Spock interrupted her.

"Diarmuid, have you lost your tongue?"

"No, boss. Uhura wanted me to teach her about teas, so I obliged the young lady."

"How long has this arrangement been in practice?"

"For a little while."

"You will be more exact."

"Hard to say exactly when, boss."

"Perhaps, retrieving your calendar will serve to refresh you memory."

"December 19." Uhura spoke up. "That was the date of our first lesson. There was one other one before the holidays and three - including tonight's – since the semester began."

"Diarmuid!" The customer called once more to the manager's relief. "We're still waiting."

"Got to go, Spock." Diarmuid told him in hopes the Vulcan would move from his path. "Miriam can't get to everyone."

Spock's glare appeared to intensify. "Diarmuid, you will refund all credits Ms. Uhura has provided before she leaves here, tonight."

"All right . . . all right. And, don't worry, I won't charge her for any future lessons."

"Ms. Uhura will no longer require these services from you. Do you understand this, Diarmuid?"

"OK . . . OK. So, then do you mind if I get on with my job?"

Spock gave Diarmuid just enough room to slip past him. Uhura sunk tiredly back into her chair, while the Vulcan scanned the contents of the table. He then removed his jacket and draped it across one of the chairs before sitting next to the East African.

"There was no call for you to talk to Diarmuid that way." Uhura commented. "He was just doing what I asked of him."

"It is part of his job responsibilities to educate our customers about any one of the many varieties of teas which are available at this establishment. The informed consumer with a discriminating palate is more likely to become a loyal customer who will frequent this teahouse at greater intervals. By accepting payment from you, he essentially received compensation twice."

"But I didn't feel cheated, Spock." Uhura replied. "For each of these sessions, he has spent at least an hour providing detailed instruction. I have asked him provide a service that goes far beyond what most patrons would expect."

"It does not matter whether or not you felt unfairly treated by him. Diarmuid violated a teahouse policy and must rectify this transgression or find himself another employer."

"Let it go, Spock, it really isn't a criminal offense."

Silence.

Uhura finally rolled her eyes and picked up a spoon to retrieve tea leaves from a tin.

"What are you doing?" He asked drily.

"The temperature of the water is at 180°. It's time for me to feed the teapot."

Spock removed the thermometer from the pot.

"So, what are you doing, Spock?"

"Thermometers are for novices."

"I think the term certainly suits me at this stage."

"It will be difficult for you to stop using this artificial aid if you rely on it, now."

"Diarmuid told me this particular tea is one the most expensive types grown on Earth. I think he called it, Silver Needle tea. I didn't want to mess it up by brewing it at the wrong temperature."

"Nyota, if you truly desire to become more conversant concerning teas, you must learn to be more precise with your terminology. Silver Needle tea is not a type, but a variety of white tea. Grown in the Fujian province of China, the tea leaves are made from buds harvested only two days of each Earth year. It is not one of the most costly Terran varieties, it is the most expensive tea grown on this planet."

Uhura looked down at the discarded thermometer and then to the Vulcan, who was unmoved by her silent plea.

Spock continued, "There are many varieties of tea which simply require one to brew it in boiling water. However, the delicate leaves of Silver Needle must be treated with special care. The temperature of the water is raised to boiling and then we must patiently wait for it to find the heat that will best exploit its exquisite properties." The Vulcan placed his hand beside the pot. "This is the way we will test its readiness."

Uhura watched as he took his index finger and slowly let it slide down the pot from its top to base.

"Perfect." Spock told her. "You must try it, Nyota. You must learn to identify various levels of heat by touch alone."

"But, Spock, it's really hot." She protested. "At least, hotter than I can probably stand it. You know Vulcans have a higher tolerance for heat than humans."

"I am not asking you to deliberately harm yourself."

"Well, we're in agreement there." She quipped.

"Nyota, do not be afraid to explore your limits." He counseled. "Touch."

Spock's simple invitation had its effect as Uhura moved her right hand to the pot. Then, she folded all but her index finger down as she gingerly reached to touch the pot's top.

"Ouch." Uhura winced and drew her hand back. She looked back to Spock who seemed to challenge her through his dark eyes.

She could not give up . . .

Uhura moved her hand back to the pot and took a breath. This time she deliberately placed her finger at the top and held it there enduring the initial shock of the heat.

Another breath . . .

A grimace . . .

And then finally . . . a soft sigh . . .

I can do this. She thought to herself as her finger slid unhurriedly down the pot.

"Phew!" Uhura exclaimed as she removed her finger, quite pleased with her achievement. And, it was not until she raised her eyes to Spock that she realized his attention had not been on her demonstration at all.

"Nyota, you may now feed your pot."

"And just what were you looking at while I accomplished this great feat." She said playfully while putting carefully measured tablespoons of the precious tea leaves into the pot.

"You, of course."

"Now, it is your turn to be more precise, Mr. Spock."

"My focus was upon your face."

"My face was not the part of my body touching the pot, which I believe was the operative word in your request."

"Your face told me all I needed to know."

Uhura could not help, but offer him one of her loving smiles. However, this expression did not remain on her face for long.

As she replaced the lid of the pot, Uhura commented, "Diarmuid said it should steep for eight minutes."

"10 minutes." He corrected her.

Taken aback by his terse response, she challenged him. "Sometimes, Spock, I don't understand you."

"Was there an assumption that would not be the case?"

All right, settle down, girl. She told herself. You have to be on your best game to get into a battle of words with him even when you have all your faculties. You're too tired to put up a good fight right now. Just be upfront with him.

"Baby, is there something going on? Something you want to talk with me about?

Her questions caused Spock to think back to his conversation with Sevat. But, he could not . . . the Vulcan would not share this with her.

When Spock did not readily respond, Uhura continued. "I thought you told me you were working late tonight because you needed to catch up on reading your Research Assistants' progress reports."

"There was an unexpected change in plans, which evidently turned out to be fortuitous. If I had remained in my office as previously scheduled, I may not have learned of your pact with my teahouse manager for some time to come."

"Baby, I know this arrangement with Diarmuid has upset you, but . . . "

"That man's name has been on your lips much too often, tonight." He interrupted.

The East African shook her head in disbelief. "Spock, you can't be jealous of . . . "

One look from the Vulcan was all that was needed for her to know how foolish that thought had been.

"OK . . . OK." She laughed, "That was crazy." She attempted to sober herself before she continued. "Baby, I know you aren't pleased about this agreement I had with . . . him, but it wasn't supposed to be a point of discontentment. Knowing of your passion for tea, I only wanted to learn more about it so I could better share this experience with you."

Spock felt her hand find his underneath the table. It was this touch that opened his heart.

"Touch." He began. "My parents rarely showed affection like this . . . at least, not before others . . . including me. Yet, this gesture you perform with little hesitation."

"That seems like all I have to offer."

"Why do you make it sound as though it were a criticism?"

"Spock, it's all right for you to admit it. It must be frustrating to be with someone like me . . . someone so inexperienced."

When Spock did not readily respond, the East African took it as a confirmation of her statement and began to slip deeper into her own sexual insecurities. Ashamed, she withdrew her hand from his and cast her eyes downward.

The withdrawal of her hand brought a chill to the Vulcan. He wanted to comfort her, but he did not know how. Spock wondered, How will I ever learn to give her what she needs?

Minutes passed as the wounded ones sat in silence.

And then, Spock took up the teapot and filled her cup and his. He observed as the cup sat before Uhura untouched for 93 seconds. Finally, she reached for the cup and took it up between her fingers. Bringing it to her nose, he watched as her chest rose gently as she took in the delicate aroma. Now touching her parted lips, she tipped the cup up and closed her eyes as she felt the rich liquid move across her tongue and down her throat.

Suddenly, despite her fatigued body, a moment of clarity entered Uhura's mind. Intimacy . . . above all, it was intimacy that Spock sought from me. She now knew why taking tea lessons from Diarmuid had disturbed him so. For the Vulcan, the tea ritual symbolized one of the few ways he knew how to access such an intimate state. No matter how innocent, he could not bear the thought of her engaging in this act with any other man.

Spock felt her loving eyes on him as he took up his cup. He allowed the tea's sweet aroma to enter his nostrils, before bringing the cup down to his lips. With closed eyes, he welcomed the heat of the liquid and the warming sensation that spread throughout his body.

Spock opened his eyes expecting her rapt attention, but instead found the East African leaning her weary head propped against one of her hands. Her mouth opened in, yet, another yawn.

"Am I boring you, Nyota?" He quipped.

"I'm sorry, Baby." She replied sheepishly. "Didn't get much sleep last night. I know you probably slept like a baby."

Spock knew this was not the case. However, he did not want to reawaken her sexual concerns this evening by providing any details of last night's bedtime activity.

Uhura continued. "I had a long . . . long . . . long day, which included the retake of one of my comprehensive exams." She looked to Spock, but when he did not provide an expected follow up she filled in the dialogue gap by performing both parts of the conversation.

"He asks, Nyota, I trust you feel your efforts this time will lead to a greater chance for success."

"She replies, Well, Spock, while I didn't expect the same questions, I must admit I was surprised the new ones seemed more challenging than the original. Still, I was able to outline and write my response with time to spare. So, yes, I do have a good feeling about it this time . . . a real good feeling."

"He asks her, Was there any doubt this would be the outcome?"

"She answers, Well, Spock, after all, I did fail it the first time."

"That's when he told her, Nyota, you should have never carried any uncertainty as to if you would pass the exam. The only question was when you would succeed with this task. Remember, 'For the righteous falls seven times, and rises again.' Proverbs 24:16."

Spock gave her a skeptical eye and commented, "I was not aware this Vulcan quoted scripture from a Terran Bible."

Uhura feigned indignation when she retorted, "Well, he does when I'm telling the story."

Spock's head turned to a slight angle in reaction to her words.

The East African cleared her throat in preparation to complete her tale. "So, she tells him, 'Oh, Baby, you always know just the right thing to say.' Hugs and kisses. The . . . " She stifled another yawn. "The end."

Spock noted her eyelids beginning to droop. "Nyota, put on your jacket. I shall escort you back to your residence hall."

"No, Spock." She raised her head and tried to straighten her body. "Just a while longer."

"I am sure you are aware of the scheduled military exercises this weekend?"

"You mean, every weekend."

"What time do you report in the morning?"

"5 AM." She admitted reluctantly.

"Then it is not wise to remain here any longer."

"I came here at 9 o'clock and planned to be here for an hour with . . . him. So that means I have nearly a half hour left."

"26 minutes, 30 seconds if your time of arrival is accurate."

"Then, let me have at least that time to be with you."

"You can barely keep your eyes open."

"I'll just rest here for a while and you can let me know when it is time to go in the unlikely event I fall asleep." Uhura moved her chair so that it touched his.

"This is hardly a suitable place for a respite."

"Baby, I don't recall asking your opinion." She told him as the East African leaned her body against his. When her head came to rest upon his shoulder, he watched as tiny braids of her hair fell forward across her face. With one hand, he swept her hair back and enjoyed the feeling of the coarse strands against his skin.

Uhura closed her eyes and nestled deeper into his body. "Are you comfortable?" He asked.

"Almost."

"Is there something I can do to enhance the experience?"

"Your arm."

"I have two of them."

"One will do."

"Your instruction."

"Place it around me." He complied by moving an around her petit waist.

"How is that?"

"That'll do." She sighed happily as her slender fingers tapped gently against his chest. And with gesture, he drew his arm tighter around her and lowered his head so his lips would brush against the top of her head. Oh, how I love you, Nyota.

There had been few moments like this with other women. Spock was no stranger to sex and his female partners rarely found fault in his technique. But the Vulcan had little experience with intimacy. Even with Leila, the Hawaiian woman he had once loved, Spock seldom took the time to be with her and explore their love for each other. The Vulcan did not understand why, but being with Nyota was somehow different.

"Ashayam." He whispered.

"Hmmmm . . . " She stirred. "Baby, what was that you called me?"

"Ashayam." He quietly repeated.

"Is that a Vulcan word? I don't recall ever hearing it."

"Yes, it is a word from the Vulcan lexicon, but it is one of seven words in the cannon not of Vulcan origin. It is doubtful you would hear this term in an academic setting."

"What does it mean?"

"It's a term of endearment."

"What's the literal translation?"

"Some words defy translation into another language."

"Spock, you are talking to a linguist. I am quite aware of the limitations of translating one language to another. Just pick a Federation language term which comes as close to it as possible."

"To understand it, I will need to tell you a story. More precisely, a Vulcan folktale."

"Oh, yes, Spock. Please go on. I don't think I've ever heard a folktale from your people."

"In several significant ways, the story matches features of an archetype found throughout the quadrant, even on Earth."

"Once upon a time . . . " She urged him on, afraid she would fall asleep before hearing the story.

"Once upon a time there was a Prince and the time had come in his life for him to seek a wife. This could be no ordinary woman, for one day she would rule the land with him as his queen when he ascended to the throne."

"Sounds like it has more in common with European tales than those of Africa."

"Should I not go on?"

"No . . . no . . . I'm sorry. I'll try not to interrupt, again."

"Women were brought to him from other kingdoms far and near to vie for an opportunity to be his wife and enjoy the riches of the royal household. However, none of these women could win his heart until he laid his eyes on her."

Spock's dramatic pause caused Uhura to quickly forget her intent to withhold any further interjections. "Who was she, Spock? Come on, tell me!"

"She was not of his people, but the daughter of an alien merchant who had come to the palace selling his merchandise. The moment the Prince saw this daughter from a foreign world, his heart filled with love for her."

"Love at first sight. It does not sound very Vulcan-like."

"The story is not actually set on Vulcan, but on one of our sister planets. It also predates Surak's teachings of a lifestyle based on logic." Spock replied with a slight annoyed edge.

"All right . . . All right. I'll behave."

Spock did not put much faith in her words, but continued his story. "So, the Prince asked the father for his daughter's hand, but the merchant does not consent. The father tells him, 'Our ways may be foreign to you, but on our planet the woman decides. You must win her heart yourself if you desire to take her as your wife.' Fortunately for the Prince, the daughter agreed to remain as a guest in the palace for 30 days while the father travelled the Prince's world selling his goods. If his daughter had not fallen in love with the Prince by the time of his return, the father would take her away with him."

"So, did she end up falling in love with him."

"Nyota." He warned her once more before telling more of the story. "The ways of her people were so unfamiliar to the Prince that it was difficult for him to know how to please her. She turned up her nose at most of his food and drink. Costly gifts of fine textiles, perfume, and precious gems had little meaning to those of her race."

"Playing hard to get. I think I kind of like this girl."

"The Prince thought all hope was lost as the 30th day drew near. And, that's when he received word that a more technically advanced alien race had threatened to invade his planet. The task fell upon the Prince to rally his forces and prepare for a war that may very well bring an end to all he had ever known and cherished. He had his aide contact the daughter's father to return her to her home planet, so she would be safe."

Spock paused for Uhura's comment, but there was none this time, as she now appeared spellbound by the tale.

"And after the father arrived at the palace, the Prince came to the daughter to explain why he had to cut short his quest for her love and send her away. And, that's when she called him . . .

'Ashayam.'

'Ashayam.' The Prince repeated. Please forgive me, but your tongue is not familiar to me.'

'Can you not gleam the meaning from my voice?' She asked him. 'Beloved . . . my Prince, you are my beloved.'

And despite the impending danger, her words showered him with great joy. He swept her up in his arms and held her close to him. 'Oh, my love.' He told her. 'You know not how happy those words have made me. But, why now? After all this time I have tried so hard to woo you, why now?'

'And she answered, 'These many days I have been a guest in the palace, you treated me as if I were a vain and superficial child. Plying me with delicacies and expensive trinkets only hardened my resistance as I was determined not to give my hand to such a shallow man. However, when against all odds you unhesitantly took up the mission to defend your people, I knew I had greatly misjudged you for you are most worthy. You are a man who stirs my spirit. You are a man who burns within my soul. And, you are the man I choose to take to my bed.'

"And that very night," Spock added, "the two joined together as husband and wife."

Not, yet, hearing what she wanted to know, Uhura lifted her head and asked, "But what happened to them, Spock?"

"According to our folklore, the Prince fought valiantly, but he and his people were annihilated."

"Sorry, I asked."

"As you should know, these stories rarely end well when beings of two different cultures . . . " Spock could not complete his sentence as the implications of his thought became clear to him. But, Uhura would have no part of such talk . . . not tonight.

"Good thing it's all fiction." She told him as she unexpectedly rose from her seat. "Come on, Baby." Uhura told him as she reached for her jacket. "I almost feel wide awake now, so I best take advantage of it and head back to my dorm before I really crash."

Although he had suggested she leave earlier, the Vulcan now regretted their impending departure. It pleased him to have her in his arms . . . to hold her . . . to be with her . . . to love her. But, reason dictated he be led by logic, not his heart.

Spock stood up and placed his arms in his jacket, but Uhura's hands were the first to reach the bottom of his zipper. The East African hooked the slider and then slid the pull-tab up to his neck.

"That really wasn't the ideal bedtime story." She commented. "However, I did like the part about the meaning of that word."

Uhura innocently reached up to Spock's temple unaware of the sexual effect of such a gesture on the male Vulcan anatomy. As he felt his crotch tighten a bit, for the sake of propriety he hoped she would not linger at that spot much longer. Spock was relieved when she finally answered his silent appeal. Yet, her touch did not fail to please him as she allowed the tips of her fingers to sensuously glide down his face as she had done earlier with the teapot.

She told him . . .

"Ashayam . . . Beloved . . . That's what you called me. And I won't ever let you forget it."

The lips of this daughter of Africa found those of a man from an alien world known as Vulcan. And, he swept her up in his arms and welcomed all her sweet kisses.

Author's Note: In the next chapter, Sevat meets Uhura and gives her a "proposition" she feels she cannot refuse.

Your comments are always welcome.