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I wasn't sure how much more depressing this meal could get.

Ambassador Tos never struck me as a very cheerful person, but when he had taken a seat at the table, I had expected a second Soval, and had braced myself accordingly. For the past two weeks of my stay, Soval only deigned to open his mouth to goad me into an argument (I was starting to think he did this out of boredom or possibly a sick sense of enjoyment) or to keep tabs on me. I had given up trying to understand his motives last week and was in a constant state of irritation with the man. And I thought I would feel the same way about Tos. My dad had never liked him, but as we consumed our meal, I wasn't sure what to think of the younger diplomat quietly scooting his food around his plate. He hardly took three bites the entire time, and made no move to intervene in Soval's conversation (argument) with me. Tonight, it was over sports.

"...and in all candor, the dangers of injury from this game of football are incredibly high, however, considering it is a fight to the death, that does not surprise me." The ambassador fixed me with an arrogant stare, and I glared at him.

"Now who on God's green Earth told you football was a fight to the death?"

"Anthropological study groups have concluded-"

"Study groups, my hat! That is the most idiotic, unscientific, illogical conclusion to ever come out of your mouth, ambassador!"

His nostrils widened as he took in a deep breath through his nose, and I grinned, somehow knowing I had gotten to him. I was quickly learning that finding weak spots in his logic was the only way to beat him, which was incredibly difficult, and not something I had managed to do yet. But tonight, I might just get the upper hand. I pressed my case.

"Have you ever watcheda football game, ambassador?" I asked quietly, almost sweetly, and he narrowed his eyes at me.

"It is a barbaric sport," he said gruffly, taking a long sip of his tea. "I do not contaminate my vision with such base acts."

"If you had ever watched a game before, you would know that no one, to my knowledge, has ever died during a match. Injuries happen a lot, sure, but no deaths. The point of the game is to run the ball to the opposite end of the field without being tackled first. It's...visceral, but not deadly. I'll admit, personally, that I wouldn't play anything more than tag football even if you paid me, but to think that the most observant, scientific minds that Vulcan sent to monitor our species would come to the ludicrous conclusion-"

"You've made your point, Ms. Forrest," he said testily, and I grinned wickedly at him over my water glass, relishing this one bit of victory.

"Please do not...grin at me like that," the ambassador continued, his eyes growing dark. I frowned.

"Then you must forgive me. It wasn't my intention to make you uncomfortable." I coughed to quell the urge to smile again, and then I turned my attention to Tos, remembering that the younger ambassador didn't look very happy to be here, even by Vulcan standards.

"You need to stop chattering over there, Tos." He fixed his muddy brown gaze on me, looking absolutely miserable, and slightly annoyed at my teasing.

He said nothing for a moment, then muttered quietly that I was being highly illogical.

"It's a backwards way of wondering aloud why you're not joining the conversation. Do you have any opinions to add about the game of football?"

"No," he said simply, then concentrated on his plate, chopping the pile of roots in the middle into tinier and tinier pieces, but never putting the miniscule cuts of vegetable into his mouth.

"Not hungry tonight?" I muttered, watching his fork with mixed confusion and fascination.

Tos sighed. "I have never been fond of yakur root despite its popularity on our planet. And no, T'Sai, I am not very hungry."

Soval put down his fork. "I have known you for ten years, cooked for you and with you on several occasions, and you are only now telling me you do not like yakur?"

The younger diplomat sighed heavily. "It did not matter, and still does not matter. I am simply not hungry. If you'll excuse me, I believe I will retire to my quarters."

I glanced at Soval, wondering silently if Tos might be sick. I wasn't sure about Vulcans, but I did know that when I got sick, I usually didn't feel up to eating much before the illness hit me full force. I bid Tos good night, and Soval stood.

"Do you have the report on recent tariffs on Vulcan goods?" the elder Vulcan asked, his tone less harsh than the way he spoke to me during our arguments. Perhaps he was seeing what I was seeing and taking pity on a potentially sick subordinate.

"No, not yet," the younger man said, still sighing. Did he sigh with every sentence? Where was the trademark Vulcan arrogance I had come to expect from men like Soval?

"Ever since M'Rel..." He trailed off. "Now that she is...gone...it has not been easy doing everything she did for me."

I wondered quietly where M'Rel had gone off to, and the way Tos phrased it, a part of my brain suggested she might be dead. But why would she die?

I looked at Soval and found him glaring at his subordinate, almost as if he wanted to shout at him, and the burning glare died when he saw I was watching him. He quickly dismissed Tos and swept away his plate, then silently returned to the table, avoiding my gaze.

"How old is M'Rel?" I asked after five minutes of silence.

"That is none of your concern," he snapped. I stared at him, then raised my hands in silent retreat.

"Ok," I whispered. "Sorry I asked."

Another five minutes of silence passed. "M'Rel's absence is classified information. It would be against Vulcan policy-"

"You don't have to explain," I said coldly. "Sorry I asked. Let's move on."

I got up from the table and grabbed my empty water glass and plate, and I hastily deposited them in the sink and retreated to the couch. I refused to look at him as he finished his dinner, staring instead at my PADD as if the meaning of life were inscribed on it.

"Your tone of voice suggests you are angry with me."

I didn't let my gaze leave the PADD screen, and I offered him no answer. Let's see how the old Vulcan liked being ignored for once. I scrolled through the news, and my messages, and even started up a conversation with my friend Kal out of boredom and frustration, all the while letting Soval stew in the corner.

Two days later, and I still wasn't talking to him, other than the obligatory "good morning" and "good night", and to thank him for fixing my food. My brain was angry at him, but my taste buds begged to differ.

"Is this what you humans call the 'silent treatment'?" He was silently working on dishes, and I was resolutely cleaning the table even though he had protested. It felt good to do something for once, especially now, since he didn't want me to clean for him. It was our shared space, and God damn it, I was going to do my share of work in these quarters.

"No," I said, barely biting back my anger, clipping my words into short bursts of rage despite my best efforts. "This is 'Ambassador Soval doesn't want to talk to me unless it's to argue about some dumb minutia that doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things, and I am indulging him.'"

He had no reply.

I ran ten miles that week, and thankfully for my tired calves, by the first Friday of September we were back to sparring over the most petty, meaningless subjects he could come up with.

"How do you stand that man? Furthermore, how do I stand him? If I'm not part of the décor, I'm being belittled and besmirched. It's frustrating."

Timok sighed and handed me a steaming mug of tea. "I do not know what to tell you, child," he replied, his voice heavy, as if he were burdened. Even his shoulders were slumped as he said those words. "All I know is that Soval is a lonely man...and he has made it his mission to protect you."

"Protect me?" I rose my voice so I was nearly shouting. "First of all, I don't need his protection, and secondly, since when did protection include taking jabs at everything humanity has ever done?"

"He is an ambassador, and he is Vulcan...he thrives on debate, Genevieve."

"This isn't debate. It's petty bullshh-" I cut myself off and sighed. "Why? Why bother?"

"To keep his negotiating tactics honed, so as to better serve his people when the need arises. You are available, and you have fallen into the trap laid out for you. Although the ambassador does not seek to anger you, you take these arguments to heart. Recognize them for what they are, little one...perhaps you will learn to enjoy arguing with him."

"I don't like drama," I insisted, folding my arms tightly across my chest. "And he's driving me to my wit's end! You still haven't told me how you stand him."

"The ambassador does not argue with me. I am as old as he and know the purpose of the exercise, and I tire quickly of his tricks. You, on the other hand, are young...and if you do not mind me saying so, you do have a certain...appeal about you when you are angry. Something in your eyes, perhaps..."

I squeezed my eyes shut. "Ok, Gramps, what the hell are you implying?"

"Genevieve, surely by now you know you are beautiful?"

"I'm nothing a Vulcan would want."

Timok sighed. "I have noted that you human females tend to downplay your assets and abilities...why is that?"

"That is a topic for another day. I'm nothing special, not to him. What's your point?"

"You are asking me why Soval finds it stimulating to argue with you?"

"Yes." Why didn't he understand? "Obviously! I'm not trying to get some roundabout answer, I just don't get what I did to make him so irritated with me!"

"Child, if he were irritated with you, he would not bother arguing with you."

"Yeah, why bother arguing with a piece of furniture?"

I stared down into my now-cold tea, glaring at it as if it were the cause of all my grief. Then I sighed and set it down.

"I know this isn't your fault, Timok, I'm sorry for raising my voice. I just don't understand why he can't at least try to be nice to me."

"I do not know if he knows how to try. It has been so long for him, to have a female presence in such close quarters with him...he may have, what is the phrase, lost his touch?"

I snorted into my tea. "You've got that right...wait, that implies that he has some sort of touch with women. Don't tell me you're implying such a thing!" I grinned at him, my foul mood dissipating.

"He can be very charming when he wants to be, Genevieve. He is an ambassador. Having some talent and charm is an integral part of his job."

His eyes were sparkling with amusement in response to my incredulity, but I sipped my cold tea and sighed.

"So what do I do?"

Timok looked pensive. "I fear the day when you overcome your anger with the ambassador and realize that what I have told you is true. Soval is lonely. Despite his charm, he does not know how to respond to being in such close quarters with you. I fear for you when you see how alone he really is."

I shook my head at him. "I'd like to think I'm a nice person, but–"

He cut me off with a wave of his hand. "I do not mean to boast, but I am a better judge of character than you are, my dear little one. I have been for a long time, and I have used it to my advantage. You have a kind heart, a gentle soul. No doubt the ambassador has told you not to spend time alone with any Vulcan man besides him and myself?"

"Yes, and if he thinks he can tell me who I can spend time with–"

"Genevieve, please obey that rule. We live in dark times, and Vulcan men are greedy when they set their eyes on something they want. He gave you that warning to protect you, because you do not understand what is at stake."

I shook my head, then thought of something. "Soval isn't married or anything, is he?"

"No, Genevieve, I thought you knew that."

"Well, lonely and unmarried aren't exactly interchangeable. Goodness knows I don't want to deal with the wrath of a Vulcan woman in all this along with his nonsense."

"You would have never been able to live in his home if he were married. That is...immoral, and against our precepts."

I contemplated his words. "You still haven't told me what to do about the ambassador. I'd love to hear more about these dark times we're supposedly living in, but somehow I know you won't divulge any 'classified information'."

"Yes, it is classified, otherwise I would tell you everything," he said with a sigh. "Find it in your dear human heart to forgive the foolishness of an old, jaded, lonely man. I do not want that kind heart of yours to be twisted by resentment. Do not give in to resentment. If you find yourself slipping, come to me, and we will dispel it together. And do not hesitate to come to me for any other reason."

I couldn't help but lean forward and wrap my arms around his slender frame; in the month I had known him, he had shown himself to be much more open to touch than any Vulcan I knew. He lightly kissed my forehead.

"I fear the days ahead of us, Genie, my dear," he murmured, pulling away. "But you give me hope."

…

"So let me get this straight..."

Kalvin Leanne Wexler, nicknamed Kal, sat slouched in her chair across the cafe table from me, staring at me with her dark, exotic, incredulous eyes. Her full lips were turned upward in a smirk as she considered my situation, and I could see that I hadn't garnered her pity so much as her amusement. She raised a delicate, neatly trimmed eyebrow at me and leaned forward, lowering her voice.

"The government has basically handed you a year's free room and board, and all you have to do is put up with an ornery roommate?"

I blinked. "Well, when you put it like that...I didn't exactly have much choice. Refusing to go would be considered delinquency, and I don't want to go to prison. And really, it isn't that bad, except for that ornery roommate. I don't know what to do about him. I don't know how to make him stop insulting me and maybe have a normal conversation every once and a while. That'd be a nice change!"

"But the fact remains that you aren't paying for this."

I slumped in my chair, defeated. "No, I'm not paying for this."

"He doesn't have really loud sex at three in the morning, does he?"

I nearly spit out my sip of coffee. "No!"

"No loud music?"

"No. But he's either ignoring me or dictating his thesis to me: 'All the Ways Humanity is Inferior to Vulcans'. It gets old."

"Well, there is that," she conceded, and I nodded once to confirm that I did in fact have a good point. "But it's not like you have to hang out with him all the time."

"Well, if he were nicer to me, I'd hang out a lot more! I eat breakfast and dinner with him...and I hate to admit it, but he really does have a flair for cooking. You should try his vegetarian casserole – it is to die for!"

Kal smirked in her victory, and I put my head in my hands with a groan. She didn't even have to tell me that my arguments looked weak now, but that didn't excuse the fact that Ambassador Soval was the most insufferable Vulcan in the Consulate.

"And what makes it worse," I continued, on the offensive again, "is that not all the Vulcans are like this. I've met some friendlier guys in that Consulate, but he hogs me like he's a two-year-old with a brand-new toy! Every single time the maintenance crew comes by, or the housekeeper, or some low-level aide with a report, he shoves me out the door! Like he can't stand the thought of me embarrassing him in front of his staff."

"Well, maybe he didn't ask for this either," she mused, but I shook my head.

"No...I was supposed to be on Vulcan by now, but the order went through for me to be transferred to the Consulate. He had to have at least approved that order, and if he didn't want me in his quarters, why am I living with him? Of all the Vulcans I could have resided with, he makes me live with him!"

"Well, what do you think his motivations are? You've lived with him for a month. I'm just now hearing about this."

"You knew I was moving to the Consulate," I protested, and she quietly agreed.

"Anyway, I'm just now hearing that you're miserable."

I sighed. "I'm not...miserable...he irritates the crap out of me, but he's not...I don't know. I'm not miserable...just not satisfied, I guess. Soval is a tough nut to crack."

"Then make it your mission to crack him," Kal suggested, and I grinned at her. "It'll at least keep you occupied for the next 11 months."

"Yeah, let's play Crack the Ambassador. Let's hope that doesn't get me evicted from the Consulate."

She laughed at me and shook her head, her slender thumb rubbing the handle of her coffee mug. The movement transfixed me for a moment, and for a brief second, I considered the firm stance Soval had taken against my friends a few days after I arrived. He refused to let me bring my female friends to the Consulate, giving me some lame excuse about them 'distracting his staff', but as I watched Kal laugh, I figured even a cold-hearted Vulcan would be tempted to let himself be distracted by such a beauty as her. Kal was never lacking in male attention, not that I envied her that much, but somehow she never seemed to have a boyfriend. Perhaps I was simply misjudging her (I had always taken her for the girlish, fairy-tale-princess type), or perhaps the men of Earth were truly as underwhelming to her as they were to me.

Our conversation turned to other matters, but I found my thoughts drifting away, back across the Bridge to the spacious, spartan quarters that the ambassador and I shared. I wondered what he was doing while I was out, if he was reading, or meditating, or getting a headache as he pondered how to deal with me. And I surprised myself when I found my heart hoping he wasn't getting a headache, that his day was going well without me there. It was never my intention to be cruel to him, but something had to be done about his behavior. The first threads of a plan started forming in my head, and I smiled dreamily out the window, my thoughts comfort against the harsh reality waiting for me back at my new home.