THREE: Guidance

"You have had an emotional relapse." Varek concluded. Dagmar had spent the better part of the last hour explaining what had happened. With her counsellor, the Terran woman might have kept it down to five minutes, tops, but the Vulcan required explanations about the emotions she was experiences as well as the triggers.

The process had proved calming, strangely. Dissecting her own emotions and trying to understand where they came from, under the guidance of her professor, was far more effective than anything her counsellor had tried to do –which involved anything from primal therapy to hypnotism.

It was only then that Dagmar realized that her professor was not as immaculately dressed as usual. In fact, he looked like he had just rolled out of bed –not something Dagmar had ever expected the professor to look like under any circumstances. Unless...

Realization dawned and was confirmed when she glanced at her clock –an "ancient" one, as some of her classmates had called it- and did a few calculations.

"Oh, god, I'm so sorry!" Dagmar blurted, horrified. "It's the middle of the night for you!" An upswept eyebrow quirked, and that just made her feel worse. "I'm so sorry –I shouldn't have called."

"Apologies are illogical and unnecessary."

Dagmar couldn't quite stop the faint smile that the phrase provoked. When she had first begun attending classes with the Vulcan and had found herself requiring help understanding some of the course work outside of class, Dagmar had developed a habit of apologizing almost compulsively. Needless to say, that phrase had become almost a form of parental scolding after a while –though Varek would probably deny that all the way to his deathbed, and quite convincingly, too.

"Good morning." A new voice greeted, off-screen. Varek turned and extended his index and middle fingers to the person –something Dagmar recognized as some sort of greeting between Vulcan couples.

"Good evening, T'Lar." Dagmar answered with more than a little chagrin. "I'm sorry –yes, I know that's illogical, but I'm still sorry. I hadn't realized what time it was for you and your husband when I called."

"Miss Gunnarssen is experiencing an emotional relapse." Varek stated, and T'Lar joined her husband on-screen, extending her own two fingers to Varek briefly.

The Vulcan woman was nothing short of gorgeous, even in her bedclothes. Dagmar had only met her briefly on one occasion before this, and had walked away feeling plain and a bit boring in comparison. T'Lar was not only beautiful, but brilliant, and there was something strangely charismatic about the air of serenity the Vulcan had about her.

T'Lar quirked an eyebrow as well, and it was a struggle to contain a giggle at the two matching Vulcans on her computer screen. "Would it not have been more beneficial to contact the counsellor assigned to your case?"

Varek had asked the same thing one hour earlier and provided his wife with Dagmar's answer himself. "Miss Gunnarssen has not bonded to her counsellor as many in Starfleet had hoped she would. Additionally, Miss Gunnarssen does not feel that Dr. Shore's techniques are effective, as this is her third emotional relapse since Dr. Shore declared her therapy complete."

T'Lar processed that information for several moments. Dagmar was both embarrassed and ridiculously grateful that T'Lar thought well enough of her to devote so much thought to her situation. Varek was one thing –she had established a rapport with her professor early on, finding it ironically easier to relate to an alien than to her own species at the time- but T'Lar had no real obligation to help her.

"You are experiencing increased blood flow to the capillaries of your face and neck." Varek observed suddenly. Dagmar blinked, surprised, and felt her face flush even further. "Am I correct in assuming that you are experiencing embarrassment or shame?"

It was hard not to feel embarrassed when someone just came right out and said something like that, Dagmar thought wryly. In fact, she desperately wanted to crawl under her desk at that moment, if only to get away from the keen scrutiny she was under.

It was with more than a little difficulty that Dagmar forced herself to be brutally honest, and even then her answer came out from between clenched teeth. "Yes, I am embarrassed."

Pre-empting the inevitable question of why, the Canadian continued, painfully, "I feel like I shouldn't need help with this and I am embarrassed by the fact that I do." –a pause, and then- "I was not raised to be so open with my emotions; Scandinavians are usually very reserved outside of family interactions. Especially with non-Scandinavians." –a grimace and then, even more painfully- "We tend to be very... clannish."

God, that was like pulling teeth without anaesthetic.

Even Varek, who had great difficulty understanding some Human emotions, picked up on the unspoken crux of the problem. Dagmar didn't have a family anymore –not even her family's descendants- and so, did not have an outlet for her emotions or anything resembling a support structure beyond an ineffective counsellor and, irony of ironies, a stoic Vulcan couple.

"You have... friends... within the Andorian side of the Terran Embassy." T'Lar stated, though it sounded suspiciously like a question. Dagmar nodded, if hesitantly, wondering where the Vulcan woman was going with this. "My understanding of the situation is that you lack a clan and are suffering emotional distress because of this. Andorian society is very similar in many respects to your culture, particularly in regards to family. Given your reluctance to bond with your own species, the most logical course of action would to attempt to bond with several receptive Andorians."

Dagmar blinked.

She'd never even considered that.

"In addition, I would recommend meditation as a method of controlling your... grief." Varek supplemented. He seemed uncomfortable, if only very faintly, at the mention of the emotion. Dagmar politely refrained from commenting. "There are several simple meditations that would serve this purpose; I will send you instructions regarding all of them."

Gratitude washed over the Canadian. "Thank you –both of you. I'm sorry I'm such an inconvenience all the time. I know you must have better things to do than deal with my issues whenever I fall to bits."

The cool two-part explanation of the illogical nature of gratitude as well as self-depreciation performed in concert by Varek and his wife was both frightening and fascinating. The pair was so in-tune with one another that they supplemented each other's arguments flawlessly.

"Nevertheless," Dagmar cut in, holding up her hand in a silent call for attention. "Thank you."

Varek raised his eyebrow once again and terminated the connection.

Dagmar smiled, weary and stiff and cold, and turned her seat to watch the sunrise through her living room window. As the sky lightened with a false dawn and then once again with the true dawn, the differences of this new Earth seemed more and more glaringly obvious.

Even the sunrise and sunset were different now, just shadows of they should have been; with the cleaner air of the twenty-third century, the colours weren't as vibrant. It was still pretty enough, she supposed, but it seemed... colder.

The smile, small as it was, slipped from her face as she moved to prepare for another long day in the Embassy.