[A.N. I might just upload everything I've got so far, as long as people are all right with waiting on new chapters. I'm trying hard not to take too long on writing.]

New England in winter was a stark contrast to Vulcan, even to the higher latitude where Spock and Christine had been based. Every breath that Spock inhaled seemed to coat his lungs with cold and the air held that odd, clean snow scent that he remembered from visits to this place in his youth. It had been many years since he had been back here. Always when he had visited Earth in recent years he had chosen the familiarity of San Francisco, both for convenience and comfort. He had been so frequently required to be on hand at Starfleet headquarters that the handful of relatives who expressed interest in seeing him had come to him, rather than the other way round. There was little problem with transporters and supersonic travel in them making the journey, and it had always seemed that they decided to visit before any thought of it entered Spock's mind. He sought out few of his relatives merely for the pleasure of their company, since his companions on the Enterprise shared so many more of his interests.

One of his first ports of call was a large mall on the edge of town, where he stood patiently as Christine picked through winter clothing, asking his opinion and handing him items to try on. This all seemed exceptionally tedious, since he had little interest in how the clothing looked but only in whether or not it would provide adequate protection against the weather.

'Christine,' he said finally, carefully keeping exasperation from his voice, 'assuming that the clothing in this store is sized consistently, I see no logic in being present while you select garments. You are fully versed in my measurements.'

There was a silence. The store was a crowded, busy place, and Spock stood taking in his surroundings as he waited for her to speak. The temperature in here was very warm compared to the air temperature outside, and Spock found it quite a relief after the chill of the open air that left his extremities numb. The air here smelt of fabric conditioner and other artificial chemicals. This was an adult male department but there were still a number of children and infants around, and a perpetual murmur of female voices. It seemed striking that there were so many women shopping in an area of the store dedicated to masculine clothing. It did not seem to him that Christine would be out of company were he to leave her to it.

'It's good to have your opinions,' she said eventually. 'I mean, these clothes are for you.'

'I have complete confidence in your ability to make these decisions,' Spock assured her.

'Well – all right,' she said reluctantly. 'Do you want to wait in the café?'

'I ate before we left,' Spock replied.

He heard her give a sigh that she was obviously trying hard to suppress.

'Can you sit in the café and have a coffee while I pick out the rest of these clothes?' she asked with a great deal of patience.

Spock decided that acquiescence might be the most sensible course. 'I could sit in the café and have a cup of coffee,' he nodded.

'Do you need me to take you there?'

Spock turned his head, listening. He could hear the clattering and smell the scent of food and beverages from the café not far away. It was on the same floor as this one.

'No, I will be able to get there,' he said, taking hold of Sacha's harness. As he walked away he thought he heard another woman say very softly, 'Men,' and Christine replying, 'Vulcans...'

He shut his mind to the conversation that was starting to spring up and concentrated instead on navigating the store floor towards the café. Humans organised stores in the most illogical ways, with clusters of goods everywhere, it seemed. It was like navigating an ocean archipelago. But with Sacha's assistance he found his way to the café and gained the attention of a member of staff, who was happy to show him to a seat and bring him his order.

He wondered whether it would be acceptable to mutter, 'Women,' or perhaps, 'Humans.' He could not see any sense in standing next to Christine while she chose clothes, since his only requirement was that they were warm and comfortable, whereas she had an agenda of style and colour that was meaningless to him. The same was true of any clothes that she picked out for herself.

He took his datapadd out of his small shoulder bag and put it on the table next to his coffee. He had not found the opportunity to speak to Dr Alunan about his research, and this crowded and noisy café was not the place to try, but he could at least access some of the notes that the scientist had released and read through them. It struck him that it would have been far more convenient for him to remain in their small rented apartment while Christine had come to do this shopping, but she had insisted on his coming to help pick out the goods.

It was precisely thirty-seven minutes before he sensed Christine approaching. Sasha sat up expectantly as she came to his table and sat down opposite him.

'Well, that's everything,' she said brightly. 'Mostly charcoal greys and blacks, but I bought a few sweaters that are a bit brighter. I'm having it all sent to the apartment. It's too much to carry. I guess you want to get straight back?'

Spock pressed the off button on his datapadd and slipped it back into the bag. 'I have a great deal of work to do,' he said.

Again he caught a sense of disappointment, and he asked, 'Did you wish to buy a drink?'

'No,' she said after a momentary pause. 'No, Spock. You're right. We need to get back.'

Outside Spock allowed her to put her arm through his as they walked along the snowy path. 'I disappoint you with my lack of human etiquette,' he commented. 'I have noticed the same problem in the times that I've attempted to socialise with Captain Kirk and the doctor.'

There was that silence again, long and slow, then Christine said, 'No, Spock. No, not really. I suppose the difference is more striking here on Earth. On Vulcan everyone's like you. Here, everyone is – '

'Here everyone is like you,' Spock nodded.

'I understand. I do understand,' Christine told him. 'I don't expect you to be like men I've dated in the past. But I suppose that there is a set of latent expectations that I need to learn to change.'

Spock nodded. 'Perhaps we both must change our expectations,' he said with the hint of a smile. 'Are there any cafés on our route back to the apartment? I would be very content to buy you coffee.'

He felt the lightening of her mood in the emanations of her mind and the way her arm tightened a little in his.

'Thank you, Spock,' she said. 'I appreciate that. I really do. But let's just get back to the apartment for now. You know, the offer means as much as the deed itself.'

Spock blinked. 'I do not believe that I understand human women,' he commented.

'You're not supposed to. The sidewalk's getting a little icy up ahead,' she told him, before adding, 'Let's go out for something later, once I've got this clothing sorted through and found you something a bit more weather-proof than that coat. You must be cold.'

Spock tilted his head in acknowledgement. 'I am cold,' he told her.

'Well then, let's go home so I can warm you up,' she said with a smile.

Something very biologically male stirred in Spock at the tone of her words and he quickened his pace a little.

'Spock!' a male voice said loudly. 'Spock! My God! Long time, no – '

The man trailed off self-consciously.

'Long time, no see,' Spock completed for him, halting on the sidewalk and turning towards the voice. He recognised the man, he was sure, but he was not entirely certain of who it was. 'A colloquial idiom. I take no offence at references to sight. But I'm afraid you will have to identify yourself. You are either William or Christopher Grayson.'

'Billy, Spock,' the man said, reaching out to shake his hand. 'It's Billy Grayson. You know, I heard about what happened. I'm real sorry about all that,' he said, his voice trailing away a little.

Spock wanted to tell his cousin that there was no logic in apologising for something over which he had had no control, but in the back of his mind he could hear his mother's voice saying, Let it pass, Spock. Just acknowledge the sentiment and move on.

'Thank you, Billy,' he nodded. 'May I introduce – '

'Chrissy!' his cousin said in sudden realisation, turning to the woman beside Spock. 'Chrissy Chapel! It's a small world, isn't it? My God…'

'You know Miss Chapel?' Spock asked curiously. The odds were not, of course, astronomical, since Christine and his cousin had both resided in this town in the past and were of a similar age, but still there was a large enough population that it was entirely possible that they might have never met.

'Oh, Chrissy and I had quite a thing going back in high school, didn't we, Chris?' Billy said with a laugh.

Spock turned his head placidly towards the nurse, but he was aware of a slightly heightened level of tension in her mind and a definite sharpening of his own reactions.

'I think you had a thing going, Billy,' Christine said crisply, lifting her other hand to place it over Spock's fingers where they had tightened on her arm. 'But it was all one sided, believe me.'

There was a moment of silence, as if William Grayson were slowly taking in the closeness between the couple and the way that Christine's fingers moved protectively over Spock's.

'Spock?' he asked curiously. 'I don't intend any offence, but are you – '

'A couple,' Christine cut in. 'Yes, Billy, we're a couple.'

'Billy is my cousin,' Spock told her quietly. 'My mother's brother's son.'

'Well, you're right, Billy,' Christine smiled. 'It is a small world.'

'Statistically speaking – ' Spock began.

'My God, does he still do that?' Billy cut across him. 'Spock, you were quoting statistics at me when I was in fifth grade. Has nothing changed?'

Spock's eyebrow rose. 'I have become more accurate,' he said smoothly.

'Ah,' Billy said slowly. 'You've become more accurate, you've become a commander on Starfleet's most prestigious ship, you've become famous across half the galaxy, and with a beautiful woman on your arm to boot – and I've just put on middle-aged spread and moved two blocks closer to the grandparents so I can watch over them. Life isn't fair.'

'You have your sight,' Spock said in a completely level voice.

'Well – ' Billy said, suddenly awkward.

Spock shook his head. 'I apologise, Billy. Certain things do not change with me, either. I still have a degree of human in me.'

'It must've been tough, Spock. I'm sorry,' Billy said, giving his arm the kind of friendly slap that stood in lieu of a hug. 'Look, why don't you come back to my place? Get out of the snow. You never did well in the cold, did you?'

'It is not my natural element,' Spock nodded.

'But my, the dog seems to like it,' Billy grinned, as Sacha buried her nose in yet another drift of snow, searching for the source of some undefined smell. 'Is that a German Shepherd, Spock? Do you have him on your ship?'

'She is a German Shepherd,' Spock corrected him. 'This is my guide dog, Sacha. She does live with me on the ship. Is your house nearby, Billy?'

'Oh, just down the end of the street,' Billy nodded.

'That's about seven, eight houses down,' Christine added in an undertone, aware of Spock's reticence to walk too far in this slippery ice and snow. He was holding on very firmly to her arm, and had already almost slipped over once on the way out to the store. She knew by now that Spock held a most illogical fear of injuring himself through an inability due to his blindness.

'So why don't you come on in for coffee and a chat about old times?' Billy asked him.

Spock said smoothly, 'We have a rather pressing engagement at present, Billy. We are expecting some goods to be delivered. May we – take a rain check?'

'Well, a snow check maybe,' Billy said. He patted Spock's arm again in a brusque, masculine way. 'Sure, Spock. You're in town for a while, then?'

'For at least a month,' Spock nodded, stepping backwards unobtrusively so as to be out of range of his cousin's hand. 'We are at apartment twenty-one, one two one Argyll Street.'

'Well then, I'll call you later and we can arrange something,' Billy said in a jovial tone. 'I should let you both get on. I could always tell when you were getting cold. Your ears start to lose colour.'

Spock suppressed a sigh. 'Christine?' he said.

'Bye, Billy,' she said. 'Be sure to call, won't you?'

'Oh, I will,' he replied.

Spock took up Sacha's harness again and walked on with his arm through Christine's.

'And I thought Vulcans couldn't lie,' she said in an undertone once they were a suitable distance away.

Spock quirked an eyebrow. 'That is apocryphal,' he said. 'Besides, I did not lie entirely. You do wish to get back in order to receive a delivery.'

He could feel the slight confusion in her mind. Was he referring to the clothing that they had just bought, or was he using a most human form of double entendre? He left her wondering, and walked on without saying anything more.