Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Thank you to everyone who reviewed.

A/N: The mite battle is still ongoing, and my brother gave me a stomach virus for his birthday. How thoughtful of him.

Timok hurried to answer the door; it was probably an aide or some such person here to give a report on the feedback regarding Soval's press conference. However, to my surprise, Soval himself was in the doorway, and his aides were not at his side. Granted, they had not contributed to the press conference in any way, but they always accompanied him most places, and I had spied them lurking in the edges of the frame when the camera panned to a wide shot. They must have returned to their duties or to their quarters.

The ambassador's bright brown eyes fell on me, and I offered him an enthusiastic grin.

"You did very good," I said warmly, nodding to the comm. "Though I guess I've been falling behind on my end of this exchange. I haven't taught you anything. And I certainly wasn't told to concentrate on th significance of emotions."

The door closed behind him as he advanced into the room, and he took a seat beside me. "Had you gone to Vulcan, you would have been told. As for your...performance so far, you have taught me more than you realize. I do not always need an overt lesson to learn more about humanity." He paused, a tiny smile fighting to lift his lips upward. "I am pleased you approve of my delivery."

I decided to wait until later to press the issue of why I hadn't been told about my new responsibilities as his exchange partner. I didn't want to bring that up in front of Timok in case it devolved into an argument.

"That dry little quip of yours about dinner was a nice touch," I replied, and I leaned back into the couch, my hip digging into the couch cushion as I turned to him. He mirrored me, shifting his body to face me. "I was just telling Timok that you've never looked so affable in a press conference before."

"Indeed?" he asked, his voice deepening. "You believed I looked affable?"

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Considering I am an ambassador to your planet, and looking approachable during public appearances facilitates better relations between your people and mine, I would say it is good that I was more affable this time."

I smirked and looked around for my companion, and he had returned to the sink, washing our teacups.

"Timok, you should let me do that," I said, jumping up to help him. He turned around and held up his hand.

"You were speaking to the ambassador," he countered. "Sit and talk to him. I am not an invalid yet, and as long as I can maintain my own household, by Surak, I will wash my own teacups. And besides, I don't believe Soval would appreciate me taking you from his side."

I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes even as a smile broke over my face. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"He means," Soval started, and I turned to face him, "that I would be most displeased to have our conversation interrupted for something as mundane as washing dishes." He gestured to my seat. "Sit, Genevieve, and do not concern yourself with domestic duties. That is not what you're here for."

"No, apparently I'm here to help you," I replied, obeying his command to sit. I dared a glance back at Timok, but the old man had his back turned to us, seemingly ignoring our conversation.

"Yes, that is why you are here." He watched his fellow Vulcan work over my shoulder. "This weather...it agrees with you?"

"Yeah," I said, frowning at him. "Why?"

"I had a habit of walking in the city after hours, but with my recent workload, I haven't been able to continue. I'd like to take it up again...and I'd like you to go with me, if you will. Perhaps we could even go to dinner."

I smiled. "That sounds lovely. But are you sure it's wise right after a press conference?"

"I've never left the Consulate after a press conference," he admitted, raising an eyebrow. "But I see no danger. The paparazzi will never think to look for us. Timok, forgive me, but I believe Ms. Forrest and I should change if we are going out."

He stood and offered me his hand, and I stared at it, bemused. I knew Vulcans didn't shake hands, and I wondered for a moment if that was entirely true. Or perhaps Soval wasn't just affable on camera. My heart lept in a wild whirlwind of hope at the thought, but I squashed the thought before it could fully form in my brain.

I looked up at him, catching his warm gaze from under my lashes, and then I gripped his wrist and let him pull me to my feet. "Thank you," I said with a gentle smile. And then I turned to the elder Vulcan. "Thanks for the tea, and the company. It's always a pleasure."

Timok's lips twitched upward in a tiny shadow of a smile, and for a moment I thought he winked at me. "Go on, Genevieve. The ambassador could use an evening with a lovely young woman. I am too old for such things."

"Nonsense," I countered, crossing my arms over my chest in mock indignation. "I should hope I am never too old to be deprived of your wisdom, honored elder." Soval sometimes referred to the senior aide in this way, and I rather liked the honorific. "But in any case, I have a date with Mr. Affable over here, so I must take my leave of you. I hope you have a wonderful evening."

"And you, Ms. Forrest," he said in reply. "Good day, Osu."

"Good day, Timok," the ambassador echoed, his voice deepening, and he gestured for me to follow him out the door.

We got to the turbolift before he spoke again. "Mr. Affable?"

I raised my eyebrow at him. "Would you prefer Ambassador Pointy?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Certainly, you may have it," I quipped, and he raised his eyebrow back at me. "That's Archer's nickname for you. Jonathan, not Henry. I think Henry Archer respected you far too much to make up such a stupid pet name for you."

"He was a good man," Soval said softly, and I nodded. I had heard plenty of stories of the brilliant engineer from my father, almost all of them praise, and I knew for a fact Soval had personally met Henry Archer on several occasions to offer his people's view on his work. "His son..."

He trailed off. "Yeah," I agreed to his silent statement. "Ambassador Pointy..." I muttered under my breath, and then I started laughing against my better judgment.

"You find that amusing?" he said, almost looking offended.

"No, it's just so stupid!" I bit my lip, trying to get a hold of myself. "It's like he came up with that name when he was five years old, and I can't believe it stuck. If you're going to make a disparaging nickname for someone, you might as well make it clever. There's just nothing..." I was overcome with another fit of the giggles before I could finish my sentence, and I bit my lip even harder.

The turbolift doors opened, and I managed to keep my laughter contained until the door to our shared quarters closed, and then I had to quickly retreat to my room before I dissolved into a full laughing fit in front of the ambassador.

"What is so amusing?" he asked as I hurried for the sanctuary of my room, but I shook my head at him as a grin spread across my face, and I snapped the door closed behind me.

I face-planted into my pillow and shook with laughter, slowly forcing myself to calm down as I made a mental catalog of everything I had to do to get ready for dinner. My legs had sprouted another crop of hair follicles that I would sacrifice to my razor (and pray I didn't cut myself in the process), and maybe a quick shower wouldn't hurt, just to freshen up. I had lounged around all day in sweatpants and a t-shirt, and my hair was in need of washing. Although I missed the feeling of cleanliness a water shower gave me, sonics were more energy efficient, and I didn't have to dry my hair after cleaning it with the cleanser Soval provided for me. I had found it in the shower my first morning here, as the letter sent to me by Earth's government included an unusual order: no perfumes, and no toiletries but a toothbrush and toothpaste. Everything else, including hair products, would be provided for me, since Vulcans were very sensitive to artificial scents; apparently it made their noses hurt.

As I braided my freshly washed hair thirty minutes later, I heard Soval knock at my door.

"Genevieve?"

"You can come in," I replied. "I'm dressed."

I didn't even hear him enter, but I saw him in the edge of the mirror as he came to my side. "Almost ready," I muttered, mostly to myself, twisting the three strands of hair together one more time before securing the braid and smoothing the end. "Let me get my shoes and jacket on."

I pulled some flats from a crate on the floor of my closet and slipped them on my feet.

"We can walk first, or we can dine first. In what order would you prefer we proceed?" he asked.

My stomach grumbled, essentially answering his question. "I think food first."

I looked up in time to see his smirk, and my gaze trickled downward over his robes. He had chosen jade green robes embroidered with golden leaves and vines, with an ochre orange robe underneath and brown robes over the entire ensemble.

"You almost look festive," I said with a smile, and, hardly believing my daring, I reached out and smoothed his left sleeve. "Those are good colors on you, especially that jade green."

I spied an emerald flush color the tips of his ears, and he ran an appraising eye over my outfit. "And you look very agreeable in those colors."

I glanced down at my dark denim pants and dull orange peasant blouse and shrugged. "Thank you, ambassador. Now...do you have a destination in mind for our walk or shall we just wander?" I picked up my jacket from the bed and shrugged it on as we left my room, our steps silent as we padded across the insulated floor.

He led me from our quarters and pressed the button for the turbolift. "I do not have a specific route planned."

"How long have you been walking around Sausalito?"

"Over a decade," he replied, gesturing for me to enter the turbolift first.

"So you've explored most of the city or just this area?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I have mostly restricted my walks to this area, but I have ventured beyond to other areas of the city."

I had lived my entire life in San Francisco, and I knew a few streets around Berkeley University quite well, but my only experience with Sausalito was down by the Bay, and the Fort Baker neighborhood (or at least what had been Fort Baker; its official designation now was Starfleet Command, but a few older people still called it by its previous name). And I relayed all of this to Soval, not knowing what my exact point was; but he seemed interested enough, and perhaps amiable to the idea that he could introduce me to places on my homeworld that I didn't know existed, such as the restaurant where he was taking me to dinner.

"This establishment only serves vegetarian and vegan food," he explained as we exited the front courtyard and stepped out onto the street. "I hope that does not bother you. I realize that most humans eat meat on a regular basis, and if you would prefer a different establishment, name it and we will go."

"No, vegan is fine," I said. "Some restaurants don't feel a particular need to cater to the vegetarian crowd, and they wouldn't have many options for you to choose from. I'm not under any religious or cultural restrictions, and it's not as if I'd be eating anything more unusual than what you serve me on a daily basis."

I paused, a thought coming to mind as I slipped my hand into my pocket to touch my credit chip. I didn't want to bring it up, but I decided that communication and honesty were ultimately the best course of action.

"And if you're paying for dinner," I stated, keeping my voice casual and light, "then it's your choice anyway. But if you're not paying, I still wouldn't want your options to be restricted to one page of the menu or less."

He gave me an odd look, and for a moment I thought I had stunned him into silence. "You assume I will not pay for dinner?" He said it as if I had mildly offended him. "I invited you out, and furthermore...although your government does pay you a small stipend each month, I understand it has been cut considerably now that you reside with me and the Consulate provides for most of your needs. It would be...ungracious of me to ask you to pay for your meal."

"I just wanted to be sure we're on the same page, ambassador."

The next minute or so passed in silence before he spoke again. "Besides...what sort of gentleman would let a lady pay for a meal?"

I smirked at that and forced myself to look at him, and he raised an eyebrow at me. "The jury's still out on that one," I said with a sigh. "Gender dynamics can be complicated, and sometimes splitting the bill is a good thing."

"Not tonight," he pressed. "I insist."

I smiled and shrugged in agreement. "So...you've eaten at this place before?"

"Yes, multiple times. Sorak has often accompanied me, and on occasion Tos will join us. The owners of the establishment are very discreet, if that is something that concerns you."

"Well...I don't want to be bothered, especially if I'm trying to have a conversation with you, but the price of playing companion to a famous diplomat is dealing with the press."

His eyes narrowed. "Playing companion?"

"So to speak."

Soval shook his head and sighed. "You are not playing at anything, Genevieve, you are my dinner companion for the evening. Does that bother you?"

"If it bothered me that much, I would have never accepted your invitation," I replied. He nodded in satisfaction, and I noticed the streets had become much more crowded as we walked along. I drew closer to him, ignoring the strange looks we received as we strolled down the sidewalk.

The restaurant he had chosen was only about fifteen minutes walking distance from the Consulate, and it wasn't especially busy when we slipped inside, or at least not busy enough that we had to wait for a table. The hostess attended to us immediately, addressing the ambassador as if they had met several times before.

"The usual table, ambassador?" she asked, and Soval nodded.

The usual table was conveniently hidden from the front windows, a small, cozy booth behind a stone wall. A lamp hung over our table from the beam over our heads, and as the top of the wall beside us was only a few feet higher than the backs of the booth seats, tiny tendrils of living ivy nearly touched the condiment caddy.

Our waiter approached us and nodded respectfully to the ambassador (it was obvious to me now that the management of this place probably strove to stay on good terms with him), then smiled at me.

"Good evening. My name is Aiden and I'll be your waiter for this evening. What can I get for you to drink?" He stared straight at me.

"Water, please," I replied. "Thank you."

Soval immediately followed my order with his own. "Water for me as well, and some spiced mandarin white tea, two teacups."

He nodded and quickly retreated to deliver our order, though if I wasn't mistaken, Aiden threw me a sympathetic glance over his shoulder as he returned to the kitchen to get our drinks.

"Do you have any recommendations? Favorites?" I said lightly as I flipped open the menu.

"Personally, I favor the lentil soup with vegan bread," he answered calmly, examining his menu with furrowed brows. "But the chickpea loaf and mashed sweet potatoes is very filling, if you have the appetite for it."

"The lentil soup sounds good, but so does the potato soup." I smirked. "Tis the season."

He raised an eyebrow.

"It's cold outside," I explained. "Surely you've noticed how menus change with the seasons, especially at places like this. Summer and spring bring lighter dishes like salads and grilled vegetables, what have you, and in the colder months, lots of soups and stews and hot dishes are served. I think I'll go with the potato soup and vegan bread."

Soval nodded and set aside his menu, and Aiden came back with a tray of drinks. The ambassador quietly thanked the young man and poured himself some tea as the waiter whipped out his PADD to take our order.

"I will have the lentil soup and the vegan bread," my companion relayed in a firm, authoritative tone. "And potato soup and vegan bread for the lady."

"Is there anything else I can interest you in today?" Aiden asked, directing his question to me. I shook my head.

"Then that'll be about ten minutes on your order. Some fresh loaves of bread should be coming out of the oven any minute now. If you need anything else, just ask."

I glanced around the restaurant, my curious eyes lingering on the patrons more than the décor, although the interior design of the place was rather cozy. I saw a middle-aged couple dressed in business casual clothing two tables away from us and across the way, the two of them holding hands across the table. I smiled and let my gaze wander further away, and behind the couple was a table of businessmen. A man in his thirties met my gaze and stared rather pointedly at me, not even breaking his gaze when he took a sip of his wine. I looked away, though I still felt his gaze on my skin.

On the other side of the couple were four women my age, celebrating a birthday by the sound of their conversation. They were absorbed in their festivities and didn't immediately notice my staring, and I looked away before one of them caught my gaze.

Soval looked pensive as I looked back to him, and he raised both eyebrows.

"May I know your thoughts, Genevieve?" he asked quietly. "Are you concerned about the other patrons?"

"Just looking around to see what kind of people are dining with us," I said. "And looking around at the décor. It's very nice...I can see why you come here so often."

"Not that often." He folded his hands in front of him on the table, his forefingers extended and touching. I had seen him make the gesture before, and Timok told me it was a meditative pose. I met the ambassador's gaze; he looked as if he wanted to say something, and I waited for him to speak.

"I would have thought you would have more questions for me," he said slowly.

"I do!" I said with an enthusiastic nod, leaning forward into the table. "I just haven't had time to fully process what I want to say."

"And when will you have processed what you want to say?"

I shrugged. "Probably by the time our food gets here." I glanced over at the businessmen, but the man who had stared at me earlier was engaged in conversation with his table. I sighed and turned my eyes back to Soval.

"Why only...what was it, twenty-five teachers in the entire group? You said they'd be paid well...don't you think actual teachers would have been on board with an all-expenses paid trip to Vulcan?"

I could have sworn I saw a smirk on his lips, and I noticed something in the soft light of the hanging lanterns. Soval kept his face clean shaven and I had never seen him with any scruff, but a light brush of five o'clock shadow darkened his upper lip, and for several seconds I tried to imagine what he would look like with a little stubble on his face. In doing so, I completely missed his answer to my question.

"I am so sorry," I said, and I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment. "Could you repeat that?"

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Am I boring you?" he asked, and I got the hint that he was teasing me.

"Lost in thought," I replied, my gaze flicking back down to his upper lip against my will. He raised both eyebrows, looking rather bemused.

"I said teaching experience was only one factor in choosing the candidates for this exchange. Other things like personality and health were more important to us than past experience. The right candidates can be trained to teach. Not every teacher would be agreeable or able to handle a class on my homeworld."

"Oh," I said. I looked down at my lap, then back up at him. "I can see where you're coming from on that."

His expression softened, and he bowed his head. "I am pleased you agree with our reasoning."

Our conversation paused for a moment as Aiden set our food in front of us, and I thanked him as he promised to come back and refill the ambassador's water glass. I took a long pull from my own glass and then tucked into my soup.

"How's yours?" I said after a few bites. Soval nodded in apparent enjoyment of his lentil soup.

"It is the same as every other time I've eaten it. It is quite palatable." He took another bite, then sipped his tea. "And yours?"

"This is better than I expected," I replied.

We paused again as Aiden filled our water glasses, but once he was out of sight, I asked another less pressing question.

"Do Vulcans grow facial hair?"

He stopped eating and looked up at me, his eyes bright as a smirk lifted his full lips.

"I mean, I know you're physically able to...right?"

"Yes." His voice was soft and deep, and I ignored the shiver that crept down my spine at his relentless gaze.

"That would explain the five o'clock shadow."

"Five o'clock shadow?" he repeated, seemingly confused.

I rubbed my upper lip, silently inviting him to do the same, and he copied my movements; his eyes brightening in comprehension.

"Why is it called five o'clock shadow?"

"You shave the stubble off your face in the morning, but by five o'clock in the evening, it's back on your face."

"Ah," he said, and he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, perhaps checking for the soft prickle of regrowing facial hair.

"So do Vulcans often grow beards?"

He shook his head. "It is not very popular, though many Vulcans did grow facial hair in the time before the Awakening. There are many paintings and carvings of bearded men in our history archives. Even a few of the early logic masters had beards, though most of my people view facial hair as an inconvenience. I have only seen one Vulcan in my lifetime who had a beard, one of my professors at the military academy. He was famous for it, or shall I say infamous."

"Wait a minute," I said, holding up my hand. "You were in the military?"

He nodded. "I was a soldier in my youth, but I realized my talents lay in diplomacy."

"What kind of work did you do in the military?"

"I was a common footsoldier, and only made sublieutenant before leaving the service to learn the art of negotiation," he replied.

I smiled and saluted him, straightening my posture and raising my chin. "Well, I know you didn't serve Earth as a soldier, but I'm sure Vulcan appreciated your service."

"I come to serve." His voice was low, almost a purr, and I put my hand down in a sudden fit of embarrassment. I couldn't even think of why I had done something so silly, but he didn't seem to mind. I dug into my soup and ignored the waiter as he came around once again to refill our water glasses. He seemed to be coming to our table a lot, and maybe it was just a slow night. Or perhaps the management was eager to keep the ambassador happy with attentive service.

"So...what was so infamous about this college professor?"

"Other than sporting facial hair, he had...controversial ideals, ones I shared, and still do. He never expressed them outright, but from a few of his lectures, it was obvious that he followed an unorthodox philosophy of life."

I frowned. "Where is he now?"

Soval sighed and shook his head as he put a small pat of butter on his vegan bread. "I do not know. If he has not retired or been dismissed from the military academy, then he is probably still teaching there. He was only thirty years my senior when I was his pupil."

"And what were his unorthodox views that made him so infamous?"

Even I knew he wasn't going to answer me, but his response still surprised me. "I cannot tell you at this time, but perhaps one day...you will understand."

I looked down at my soup and stirred it absentmindedly, stealing one last glance around the restaurant to see who was still here and who had left. The couple across the way looked ready to leave, though the birthday group was still going strong, ordering dessert from their waiter as they polished off a group sampler platter. The businessmen were still deep in conversation, and I wondered if they had already finished their meal and were simply lingering over drinks. The man who had stared at me threw another glance my way, and I quickly fixed my eyes back on my meal.

As I finished off my soup and started on my bread, I wondered if any other person in the vicinity had noticed my companion. The businessman seemed to be the only one who had noticed so far (I assumed that was why he was staring at me: he wondered what I was doing out with a Vulcan and probably pitied me, as he thought I was surely bored out of my mind), though I did notice a few of the birthday group casting curious glances over our way.

"Are you doing it again?" I heard his voice cut through my reverie, and I sighed.

"Yeah, just lost in thought. It does make you wonder if this will end up in the tabloids in the morning. The only reason I bring it up is because I still want to continue my running routine, and I'd rather not have to do that while being in the public eye. Maybe I should switch routes every once and a while."

"That is a reasonable precaution," he conceded. "I would not want you to be harassed."

"No, neither would I." I took a bite of my bread, then accepted the tea he offered, sipping gratefully at the still-hot liquid. "I suppose you Vulcans have avoided the illogic that is celebrity gossip."

For a moment, he looked like he was smirking. "You think too highly of my people, Genevieve. We would not publish gossip as your people have, but we do have a propensity towards it. An old habit, born of our more social nature, and one that has been difficult to quit. My staff has not managed such a lofty goal."

"Don't tell me your staff are a bunch of gossips."

"They do not say anything negative, simply discuss what information they have heard."

I frowned. "What kind of information?"

He did not answer, and I sighed, taking another bite of bread. Why did I even bother?