I emphasize that the dialogues presented in this note were first written in French and then translated into English here. As such, the phrasing may differ somewhat from the original dialogues, but the meaning should not be affected. I hope I will be forgiven for not having had the patience to redo this tedious copying work a second time.
This chapter aims to explore the perception Vulcans may have of human love and passions.
An episode is particularly enlightening for addressing this topic.
In "Metamorphosis," our favorite trio ends up on a planet where Cochrane, a famous scientist who also ended up stranded there, has been missing for 150 years. Cochrane owes his longevity to his "Companion," an immaterial entity with whom he communicates. Observing their interaction, the three visitors come to believe that their companionship resembles a romantic relationship and eventually point this out to him.
"Mccoy – You're not his pet, you're his lover.
Cochrane – I'm what?
Spock – She adopts a different attitude with you. Her appearance is softer, her voice more pleasant, more melodic. I do not fully understand this emotion, but it exists. The Companion loves you.
Cochrane – That's repugnant!
Spock – Your relationship with the Companion has lasted for 150 years, is emotionally satisfying, practical, and harmless. Has it not been beneficial?
Cochrane – Is this what the future has become? Men with no sense of morality or decency? I may be 150 years old, but I refuse to be the lover of a completely inhuman monster!
He leaves, leaving Spock astonished.
Spock – Fascinating. A totally intolerant reaction."
This passage highlights several interesting points.
First, Spock is capable of recognizing a loving emotion even though, according to him, he does not fully understand it. On the other hand, he does not intuitively recognize love like Kirk and McCoy but rather through certain typical signs of the emotional state: posture, intonation, etc.
When Cochrane reacts with outrage, Spock does not see the logic behind it and points out the positive aspects of the relationship, which he describes as "emotionally satisfying." Spock thus understands that emotional satisfaction is important to humans and can distinguish between a satisfying relationship and one that is not.
In summary, Spock recognizes human romantic relationships through certain signs and considers them beneficial, partly because they fulfill an emotional need.
Another interesting aspect is Spock's perception of Cochrane's reaction as intolerance. A human, however, would likely not use this term. We tend to see such situations through a more emotional lens. We would assume that Cochrane is deceiving himself and refusing to see the reality because he is afraid of his feelings. Spock, however, disregards the emotional aspect and focuses solely on logic: despite the relationship being beneficial, Cochrane refuses to accept it, even after 150 years. Viewed this way, it is indeed fascinating.
Here, we see that Spock has a primarily rational understanding of romantic relationships. He grasps their dynamics and can recognize that such a relationship proves practical and even beneficial. He views it from a cause-and-effect perspective, which makes his understanding of this emotional principle somewhat subtly human—a nuance that a typical Vulcan might struggle to grasp. We can obviously assume that this insight comes from his human heritage.
One last passage caught my attention. Following this discussion, the Companion takes on the form of a young woman, and Cochrane immediately loses his reservations about love. As they are about to leave, he announces that he prefers to stay with her.
"Cochrane: I can't leave her; I love her. Is that surprising?
Spock: No. Not from a human. After all, you are essentially irrational."
Here, Spock reacts to Cochrane's decision to stay behind. This man is an exceptional scientist who could resume his research, witness the evolution of his crucial discovery, and make significant contributions to science. Yet he chooses to stay with the Companion, who has nothing to offer but herself. For a Vulcan, acting more illogically is difficult to imagine.
In my opinion, this comment indicates that while Spock is capable of recognizing love and even considers it beneficial, he does not understand at all the importance humans place on it. If faced with a choice between science and love, choosing love makes no sense to him.
Nevertheless, irrational as romantic relationships may be, our dear Spock will have no choice but to wrestle with this mystery—if he hopes to make it out of his marriage in one piece.
Dr. Leonard McCoy's log. First session of the prescribed therapy for Mrs. Johann Stone and Mr. Spock. Against my better judgment, I am now a couples' therapist. If I make it through this without losing my mind, it will be a miracle. But of course, it's my duty to do the impossible to make sure these two don't kill each other. I decided to hold the sessions in the office adjoining the infirmary to avoid interruptions and create a closed and cozy environment that encourages openness.
oOoOoOo
"All right, let's rip off the bandage and revisit the events that landed us here."
Sitting side by side in front of Bones, Spock and Johann looked about as comfortable as two cats at a dog show.
"What do you want to know?" Jo asked, shifting uncomfortably, like she expected him to start digging into her childhood trauma.
"I understand the big blow-up started because you left the room looking like a warp core exploded," McCoy said, leaning back with an amused glint in his eye, as if trying to coax her into opening up.
"Well, kind of, I suppose," Jo admitted, shrugging. " But I've always been messy, so..."
"I saw the room," McCoy cut in, holding up a hand, his tone still light but with a hint of teasing. "That looked less like 'messy' and more like 'the aftermath of a bar fight'."
Jo let out a weary sigh, and crossing her arms tightly over her chest.
"Yeah, maybe a bit..." she admitted grudgingly.
"Fair enough," McCoy said, nodding. "Why do you think that is? Indulge me."
Jo scratched her neck, her brow.
"Well, honest, I was really furious. Because we were married, he thought he could decide everything and I had almost no say, and he are my superior-on the ship I mean, and he took away my room. So, it was the only way I had to get him to see that I was pissed off. Because even if I told him, he didn't care. So that's why."
"Would you say that making a mess in the room gave you the feeling of regaining control over the situation?" McCoy asked, leaning forward slightly, his tone even and encouraging.
"Yeah, somewhat," Jo agreed, her lips twitching like she might laugh at the absurdity of it all.
McCoy nodded, as if she'd just made a groundbreaking observation. "That tracks," he said lightly, then turned his attention to Spock.
"And what do you think, Spock?"
The Vulcan's eyebrow twitched upward, and though he maintained his usual stoic expression, his barely perceptible sigh spoke volumes.
"I think this exercise lacks any logical purpose," he said.
McCoy didn't miss a beat. "Well, lucky for you, we're not Vulcans. Now humor me."
He gestured for Spock to continue, his expression expectant, like a teacher coaxing a reluctant student to share with the class.
"It was a territorial issue. The disorder served as a visual marker. Hyenas urinate on their territory in the same manner," he said as if stating the obvious
Jo looked at him insulted.
"Hyenas pissing? Seriously? If you're going to make shitty comparisons, at least compare me to something nice. I don't know if you knew this, but cats do that too."
"The spontaneous aggressiveness of female hyenas toward males makes the comparison more accurate," Spock indicated.
"They eat rotting corpses and smell like carrion too. Does that count in your example?"
He seemed to seriously consider the question, and Jo sighed in exasperation.
"Fucking adorable..." she said, grimacing a smile.
McCoy clasped his hands in front of him. "Johann, would you say Spock chose this example to annoy you?"
"Probably since he always does that," she said in an accusing tone.
Spock displayed a blasé expression. Of course, when one was caught between two humans, such illogicality was to be expected.
"If that's really what you think, then you still don't get Vulcans." McCoy continued. "Spock is completely incapable of annoying someone on purpose. I've annoyed him a lot, and even though he can be irritating in his own way, he's never been able to return the favor."
"Are you serious?" Jo said with a smirk.
"As serious as it gets," Bones assured. "What do you say, Spock?"
"I don't see how it would be logical to annoy someone on purpose," he confirmed.
Jo pouted, then glanced down at her boots thoughtfully, as though reassessing her whole perspective on the situation. Meanwhile, Spock look to Bones, his expression noticeably less gruff than usual. Which Bones, ever the professional, responded with a wink.
oOoOoOo
Well, it's official: I'm now their therapist. I'm not exactly thrilled about it, but someone's got to stop this disaster before it becomes intergalactic news.
The two of them are like fire and ice—or maybe more like tossing acid into water. Not exactly a recipe for success. Johann seems half-decent at keeping her cool, even if her version of cool means living in a chaotic mess. And Spock … well, let's just say I'm starting to understand why he's so damn good at not understanding humans.
Nevertheless, I've seen enough to know they've both got it in them to make this work. At least, that's what I'm telling myself for now. So, it's up to me to keep this thing from blowing up in everyone's face.
So, here I am. The miracle worker. I've dealt with worse, maybe not by much, though I had. But there's one thing I can already be sure of. If I survive this, I sure as hell won't be adding 'couples therapist' to my resume. This experience alone is more than enough.
oOoOoOo
"Mrs. Stone."
Lying on her back under the pipes from Block Three, Jo lifted her head from the thermal water pipes she was trying to locate the leak in. Spock was above her, holding a silver flower.
"This is for you."
Jo disentangled herself from her uncomfortable position and stood up, somewhat confused. He handed her the flower, which she took in her dirty hand. It looked a bit like a daisy made out of folded aluminum foil. She looked at the strange item with a skeptical expression, then glanced behind Spock. Yann, Nath, and Craphead were hanging around, obviously hoping for some juicy new developments.
" What am I supposed to do with this?"
He raised an eyebrow as if the question surprised him.
"I thought Earthlings appreciated this kind of attention."
"Oh yeah?" she said with a peculiar look.
A flower. Damn, that was an old, cheesy gesture. And what was next? A chicken to pluck? But still, even if it was totally lame, she had to give him credit for trying to be kind.
"Well, thank you. That's very nice," she said, hiding the flower behind her back so the others wouldn't have any more reasons to laugh at her.
"May I?" he said, extending two fingers.
"Uh…"
"Give me your hand."
For fuck's sake, if he started holding her hand in public, she'd never hear the end of it. From jealous insinuations to perverted jokes.
"I'm on duty. What's gotten into you?" she said, looking at him as if he were insane.
"It's not strictly prohibited, and breaking conventions can be exciting," he said, as if reminding her.
Jo stared at him with concern.
"Breaking conventions can be exciting," Jo repeated, troubled. "Are you losing it or something?"
Not understanding why the romantic approach wasn't working this time, Spock retreated. He bid her farewell and returned to the bridge, thoughtful. According to the data he had on human couples, it was high time to make a move. Normally, mating occurred before marriage, which had been done. But after marriage, the frequency of sexual activity increased significantly. On average, there was an additional 20% to 40% increase in mating over six Earth months.
This increase was logical since sexual encounter was a crucial biological activity for developing affection in a human couple. Several studies even made a direct link between the level of attachment and the frequency of mating. His wife's disinterest for sex was thus becoming problematic.
Deeming the matter unresolved, he reviewed his notes, determined to attempt again later. With Jim's permission, he left his post thirty minutes before the end of his official shift to be present when she came in. She arrived at the expected time and seemed surprised to see him already there. She simply greeted him before heading to the shower. When she emerged wrapped in a towel, he supposes the opportunity to make a move was ideal.
According to the novels he had read and previous advice from McCoy, he should aim for a sentimental approach. The most appropriate in the circumstances was surely to compliment her on her appearance and suggest that it excited him.
"You look very beautiful," he said, trying to appear admiring.
With the towel askew on her head, she gave him a surprised look.
"I thought Vulcans didn't care about beauty."
They didn't, but he hadn't lied from a human perspective. If you calculated the muscle and fat mass relative to her height and measurements, she wasn't far off the human average enough to be unattractive, so technically, she could be beautiful.
"You are beautiful in my eyes," he attempted skillfully.
Once again, this was not untrue, as she was unique to him as his wife. This phenomenon, called wudin-adun'a in Vulcan, could surely be translated as "beautiful" in Terran language.
"Well, nice to hear," Jo said, unimpressed.
Having given the compliments, Spock thought it was time to manifest some sexual excitement. He waited until she went into the bedroom before approaching. With her back to him, she rummaged through the wardrobe looking for a shirt. Sensing a presence, she turned and jumped when she saw him.
"Shit, you scared the hell out of me!" she said, looking at him strangely.
It was time to show excitement, so he let his "eyes roam over her body."
"Commander? What are you doing?" Jo asked, not quite understanding why he was examining her weirdly like that. "Are you okay?"
"I really want to kiss you", he said, choosing a phrase that was as normative as possible.
Jo smiled awkwardly.
"Um… Listen, I'm not sure," she said gently.
"Why is that?" he asked, trying to assume the somber expression she liked.
"You don't really know how to kiss, so…" she said, shrugging her shoulders.
"In that case, show me."
"Listen, it's nothing against you, but you don't quite have the required qualities," she said regretfully.
"What qualities are you referring to?"
"Being capable of feeling emotions," Jo said, fatalistically.
"I can feign them," he assured.
Jo chuckle.
"Wow, that's really tempting," she said, returning to her search for a shirt.
"I am capable of being credible," he said confidently.
Jo couldn't help but laugh at such nonsense. Damn, this Vulcan was really weird.
"You've already given me a Shrek kiss, what's it going to be this time? A kiss from the green dragon? No, wait, I think I'd prefer the Marshmallow Man," she said, finally finding a shirt.
"No. Since we are married, it is important that it comes from me."
"Well, that's promising," she said ironically.
"Yes. Of course."
Jo grabbing the shirt and looking at him as if he were starting to seriously annoy her.
"You don't get it at all. Kissing is about sharing emotions, and you're completely lost on that."
"You have only a hypothesis. Every hypothesis must be tested before it can be validated."
"Okay, you want to test how bad you are? Fine. Go ahead since you really need proof,"
She threw the shirt onto the bedspread, then yanked the towel off her head and tossed it beside it. Spock barely refrained from pointing out that a wet item had no place on a bed, but according to romance novels, household complaints never led to mating.
She turned to face him, and he observed her attentively.
"Let's go," she said, waiting.
It was obvious she wasn't in a good mood.
"Unfortunately, you are not in a favorable state."
Jo sighed heavily. Damn, he was going to drive her crazy…
"Alright," she said with a forced smile. "I'm in a favorable state. Is that okay with you? Now get on with it so we can finish."
He frowned, dubious.
"That means, 'go ahead,'" she said, falsely polite. "I'm ready to receive your wonderful kiss."
"Very well."
He moved closer to her and wrapped his arms around her, pressing her against him.
"You must also embrace me," he reminded her.
"Oh yes, right," she said as if she had forgotten.
Reluctantly, she placed her hands weakly on his shoulders.
Spock had studied exactly two hundred twelve romance novels. It was undoubtedly the most tedious and unpleasant study he had ever undertaken. But the documents had proven rich in information. All the novels, without exception, described numerous kissing situations, corresponding kisses, and the possible reactions of the protagonists.
To convince a resistant partner, a passionate and somewhat forced kiss or even a "gentle kiss" seemed to yield good results. He correctly calculated that forcing her might provoke a defensive reaction and therefore chose the gentle kiss, for which he had practiced a lot. He slightly advanced his lips to give them a plump texture and he pressed them against hers very slowly, at regular intervals.
At first, Jo allowed it and then got into the game. Admittedly, it was a somewhat cliché kiss, but all things considered, it wasn't entirely bad; mainly because for once, he was trying to communicate in human terms, and honestly, it was very relaxing.
Jo unwound, her eyes drifting shut. Spock observed that his strategy was yielding results. As if confirming his assessment, she subtly tilted her head, an unmistakable invitation. She was "offering her lips," a signal intended to encourage the male in his maneuvers.
He decided to continue in the same vein for the kiss but added a caressing touch, a classic aspect of this type of intimacy. He ran his hand up her bare back and applied a measured "sensual" pressure—neither too weak nor too rough, and accompanied by rather slow caresses. The towel came undone and fell. He caught it before it hit the ground and tossed it onto the chair next to the closet. Now that she was naked, he took the opportunity to caress her more fully, and his female's reaction was immediate.
Without warning, his clumsy caresses ignited her like a blaze, and Jo was suddenly swept away by a true tsunami of unrestrained desire. Maybe it was the weeks of hell she had endured, the relentless worry, or the frustration that had nearly driven her insane. Whatever it was, something inside her snapped, unleashing a flood of raw, furious desire.
Spock could only notice the radical change in his wife's attitude. The young woman's breathing quickened, and she pressed firmly against him, looking at him seriously. She began kissing him insistently and running her hands over him, particularly on his posterior, which she drew closer to her. The Vulcan found himself perfectly confused. According to the signals she was emitting, she was demanding immediate intercourse, but this was perfectly illogical. Considering her previous negative dispositions, he had calculated that there were still five distinct stages before reaching this point… if he ever got there.
He couldn't see what could have prompted her to become so excited so quickly and concluded he might be mistaken. This behavior might mean something other than a desire to mate. In that case, being too forward could be poorly received and ruin everything. In doubt, he ceased all actions and observed her passively, hoping to gain more information.
Jo couldn't miss her husband's sudden disinterest and sighed heavily. Who knew why, he was still being foolish.
"Well, what now?" she asked, struggling to hide her exasperation.
Spock quickly reviewed the various strategies possible in such situations. Not quite understanding what was happening, he opted for a classic avoidance tactic, like Colonel Richard in "Through the Constellations of My Heart".
He gazed deeply into her eyes.
"I fear I might offend you," he said, using the gravest voice possible.
Jo blinked, caught off guard.
"Oh yeah? … Why?"
He thought for a moment about the best way to get out of this and chose to show uncertainty like Acryonis in "The Hollow of Your Silken Tentacles".
"I come from a completely different world. I might come off as inappropriate and displeasing."
Damn, he was really overdoing it. But since he seemed concerned for her, Jo tried to reassure him.
"I admit it surprises me that you're afraid of displeasing me, but stop freak out, okay? All you must do is bang me. It's not complicated."
With his wife's intentions finally clear, the Vulcan thought of count of Carmichael's lines when Misery Chastain succumbs to his advances in "The Dance of the Rose: Love in Full Bloom".
"Is this truly what you wish? To give yourself to me?" he asked, embracing her in a manner that could seem manly.
"Uh… banging. Remember?" Jo said, surprised by his strange ways. "Do you need a drawing?"
Seeing that instead of "melting into his arms" like the futur countess, his wife was on the verge of getting annoyed, Spock decided to submit, mimicking Reburk in "The Dionysus of Romulus".
"No. You have nothing to do. I will do everything you want. Everything," he assured, bringing his face closer to his astonished wife's.
For fuck's sake! He was seriously losing it.
" What's your problem? You acting like a fucking idiot."
Spock raised an astonished eyebrow.
"I am making an effort to communicate with you in human language," he explained.
Finally understanding what was going on, Jo looked at him, stunned.
"Where did you get your information from, if you don't mind me asking?"
"From many different sources."
"Wait, you read romance novels and crap like that?" she said, staring at him in disbelief.
"Among other things," he admitted.
"You actually read that junk?" she asked, struggling to keep herself from laughing in his face.
Realizing she was making fun of him, he merely stared at her with an aloof expression.
"No kidding…," she said, giggling despite herself. "Come on… this shit is so bad…! HAHAHA!"
Seeing that he seemed upset, she tried to control herself, but remembering his syrupy lines, she fell into a genuine fit of chuckles. Spock felt caught off guard. Nothing in his study had prepared him for this reaction, and he had to use all his mental energy not to feel ridiculous.
"Listen, I apologize…" Jo said, with tears of laughter. "It's just that in your case, the style is really… HAHAHA!"
Spock sighed, exasperated.
"Wait, I'll… um, calm down… I'll manage."
He crossed his arms, clearly not amused.
"I would have thought you'd prefer this approach to the previous methods," he said, somewhat offended.
Realizing he was at his wit's end, Jo made a superhuman effort to regain control of herself.
"I'm sorry. Don't take it the wrong way, okay? Haem... pff… I'm not making fun of you. You couldn't have known that these novels are just too bad. That's what's funny."
"These novels are very popular among Earth women," he defended himself.
"Maybe, but definitely not for girls like me," she said, making a grimace of restrained laughter.
"You are Earthling," he said, as if she had forgotten.
"There are all kinds of Earthlings," she assured him. "Have you seen a single girl who looks like me in those ridiculous stories?"
He looked at her for a moment.
"No," he had to admit.
"That's why… um, I'm laughing. It's really not my type."
Spock sighed, thinking that, as usual, humans turned out to be irrationally cryptic.
Realizing he was frustrated by her reaction, Jo approached him.
"But seriously, I appreciate it. I swear," she said, still touched. "You really read that crap just to communicate with me?"
"Of course," he said, in a tone that implied he wouldn't have gone through those novels for personal interest.
"So your plan was to seduce me with that nonsense?"
"I was trying to understand Earth couple dynamics, their modes of operation and communication."
Jo made a sorry expression.
"Yeah, well, no kidding, you're not much better off because those novels are not realistic at all. It would have been more your style to read some boring psychology stuff, no?"
"I did, of course, but those studies are aimed at humans and assume an emotional reader who doesn't need information about that. Therefore, very few scientific documents address this phenomena except from a chemical perspective. Only romance novels detail this aspect."
"So that means now you're capable of acting like the idiots we see in those books?"
"I can replicate this approach to a certain extend," he clarified.
"Damn, just when I thought it couldn't get worse, I end up with a melodramatic Vulcan. That's what you call two nightmares for the price of one," she said, rolling her eyes.
Spock looked at her, almost insulted.
"These communication parameters are no more natural to me than before if that's what worries you."
Jo looked at him with a sly grin.
"For sure, it's not your style at all. But in a way, that means you tried to bullshit me, right?" she teased him.
Spock stared at her for a moment.
"No. I am following pre-established behavioral rules. A form of language shared by Earthlings from which we can communicate. At least, that was my assumption."
Jo looked at him with a smirk.
"Still, it's a clever strategy. No kidding, with another girl it might have worked," she said, as if to approve him.
Spock seemed satisfied with this response, which confirmed all his calculations.
"Unfortunately, you're stuck with me, but still, I appreciate the effort."
The Vulcan raised his shoulders imperceptibly as if he was taking his failure with philosophy.
"But deep down, you did all this to develop an 'emotional relationship' with me, didn't you?"
"That's correct," he confirmed.
"Well, let's try to have a real emotional relationship, what do you say?"
Spock looked somewhat troubled, but Jo deliberately ignored his lack of enthusiasm. She approached the bed and pulled the wet towel a bit to sit on it. Spock again refrained from pointing out the irrationality of this distressing habit, even though this time, he saw far less reason to hold back.
She patted the spot next to her, inviting him to sit. The Vulcan sat down, less than delighted.
"So tell me. What do you feel for me?"
He looked at her as if the answer was obvious.
"Attachment."
"No, I'm not talking about your Vulcan stuff. I'm talking about feelings."
"Are you practicing a form of psychological therapy?"
"No. We're just having a normal couple's discussion. So? What do you feel for me?"
Despite the indecency of the matter, he did his best and concentrated for a moment to inventory the emotions he had most often had to control
"Frustration," he said, "exasperation, irritation, dissatisfaction, anger, and impatience."
Jo blinked at such candor and cleared her throat.
"Well. Very well," she approved. "It's a start. And on a more positive note, maybe you can find something," she said with a suggestive air.
Spock seemed to think for a moment. As his search for something positive dragged on, Jo sighed, thinking there really wasn't much.
"Respect for your courage, your integrity, and also, I believe, a certain pity," he said finally.
"Because I'm so awful that you pity me?" she said, tired of his insults.
"No. Because you are uncomfortable in this situation that has been imposed on you. Besides, considering that you have good adaptation skills, it shows that this aptitude is not very developed in humans."
Jo let out a mocking laugh.
"You're mistaken. It's just that I haven't been stuck with you long enough. Just wait a bit, and I'll probably develop Stockholm syndrome," she said with an optimistic smile.
He looked at her gravely.
"Does that mean you see yourself as a prisoner?"
"I guess you could say that," she agreed. "I do feel a bit like… trapped," she admitted.
"Is that what explains your irritable behavior?" Spock asked, interested.
"Certainly, for the most part. Yeah," she said, relieved that he finally understood.
"So, when you develop Stockholm syndrome, your behavior should improve," Spock speculated.
Jo tried to detect a trace of humor in his eyes but, finding none, ran her hand across her forehead in discouragement.
"No," she said patiently. "The point is not to develop crazy syndromes. The point is to talk to understand each other, got it?"
Spock raised an eyebrow, thinking that developing Stockholm syndrome (an instinct that probably existed for a reason) would be much simpler and more effective.
"Okay, I'll start over. I just told you how I feel – like a prisoner. From there, how do you feel when I say that?" Jo asked, determined to have this conversation.
"Uncomfortable," said Spock, unperturbed.
"And why is that?" she asked, curious.
"Because talking about emotions is indecent," he assured.
Jo looked at him as if she were understanding his mental illness for the first time. Amanda had told her about the importance of this taboo, but to be honest, once she left Vulcan, she hadn't thought much about it.
"Okay… so if showing feelings is vulgar, do I still seem, in your eyes, like… inappropriate?"
"The word obscene seems more accurate."
"Obscene?" she said, troubled. "Is it that bad?"
Spock nodded, indicating that the word might even be a bit mild.
"Oh yeah? If you find me obscene, how can you be attached to me?"
"It is my duty," he said as if it were obvious.
"How can you be attached to someone who disgusts you?" she asked, bewildered.
"Disgust is a form of fear, and I feel no such thing. I am bound to you because you are my spouse. It follows the logic of the situation."
Jesus Christ! He's a fucking idiot. ... But he was still half-human, right? He couldn't just be bounded because he had to be. Surely the woman influenced him at least a little. Jo crossed her arms under her nude breast and squinted.
"Okay, but if, for example, I was more your type. If you thought I was great, really top. The woman of your dreams. It would be easier to be attached to me, right?"
"That is an hypothesis that cannot be tested."
"No, just imagine it."
"No objective answer can be given to that question," he assured.
"Yes, that's okay. I just want to know your impressions," she insisted.
"I do not see what the objective of imagining impressions would be."
"The objective is to try to understand each other, remember?"
"How could an approximate supposition about an unlikely situation help us understand each other better?" he asked, doubtful.
Jo sighed, trying to find patience within herself.
"Well, it would help me understand a bit better how you think. Who you are. That way, instead of wanting to punch you because you're acting like an idiot, I might be more nice."
"I see no logic in that reasoning."
"Yes it's logical," she said as if it were obvious. "Like now, I know that when I get angry, you find me 'obscene,' so it's not too surprising that you always look like a broomstick. So, now that I understand what's going on, next time I won't get angrier because of your 'deadpan' face."
Spock raised an eyebrow.
"Your reasoning is flawed. You assume that your attitude provokes an emotional reaction from me, but that is not the case," he corrected.
Jo closed her eyes as a hint of anger darkened her mind, which quickly turned into disappointment and then sadness. She realized she would never get anywhere with him. He was a damn alien. He was of a different species, and that species was made up of complete moron.
"Fine. You win, I'm resigning," she said, discouraged.
"I do not understand how I have 'won,'" he said, surprised.
"You've won that I'll leave you alone," she evaded.
She threw herself back onto the bed and put her arm over her eyes as if to stop seeing anything.
"Is this conversation over?" he asked.
"Totally over," she assured.
"Did I say something inappropriate?" he inquired.
Jo sighed, exasperated, and lifted her arm from her eyes to stare at him.
"For fuck sake! You're being a real pain! I don't see why I should force myself to have such shitty conversations. You don't understand humans at all. So here's what we're going to do: I leave you alone, you leave me alone, and everyone's happy. Does that work for you?" she said, exasperated.
"I understand humans," he assured.
Jo let out a sarcastic laugh.
"Yeah, right."
"For example, I know that I'm not giving you what you need."
"And what do I need?" she asked, curious to know.
"You need me to share emotions with you," he said with an understanding look.
Jo looked somewhat surprised. He was right. That was exactly what she needed.
"I understand that you're trying to connect with the human side of me. It's a logical strategy. But I'm closed off to this approach. That's what's most irritating for you."
Jo pursed her lips. For that, it was extremely irritating, and it made her feel completely insane. Spock looked down for a moment, seeming to hesitate to speak.
"It's… difficult for me," he said as if admitting it was painful. "Since childhood, I've had to detach from my humanity. I had no choice to be accepted by other Vulcans. For my peers, that humanity was indecent, unbearable. In their eyes, I was horrifically vulgar and they made me pay dearly for it. I had to learn to control myself even more than they did to be respected."
Jo stared at him, surprised by this confession.
"The human part of me hasn't disappeared, but it's been asleep. For a long time, almost forever. And I can't let it wake up. That part of me throws me off balance."
He looked at her gravely, leaned on his arm to get closer to her, and raised his hand to caress her cheek. Jo shivered despite herself.
"I wish I could communicate with you the way you want, but I'm incapable of it," he said, looking sorry. "It's no longer my language and I don't know how to speak it."
It was so unexpected, so touching that Jo was utterly moved.
"But you matter to me."
Damn, he was so awesome when he looked at her like that that she almost forgave him all his nonsense in one go.
"You're a part of me. I feel your presence every second. You're indecent, illogical, you even break your vows as a wife. But you are who you are. I'm attached to that. Not to what you could become, nor to what I might imagine as better than you. None of that exists but you"
He looked at her with that soft, penetrating attention that made her melt.
"I can't share emotions with you, but I am a part of you. Wani ra yana ro aisha Jo'hânn. Will you be able to love me even if I'm just a damn Vulcan?" he said, gazing deeply into her eyes.
And suddenly, Jo felt her heart start to beat for him.
He looked at her gravely, then brought his face close to hers and gently kissed her lips. He slipped his hand into hers, and as the energy enveloped them, she could read in him that he appreciated this closeness. That this time, he really wanted to communicate, to make her feel that he was attached to her.
Jo wrapped her free arm around him as he moved his other hand down her belly. As he brushed the final curve, she rediscovered the delights of Vulcan touch. But this time, it was completely different. She was no longer a third-class mechanic, nor a crew member on a mission or a lab rat. She was his wife. The only person he would ever give himself to, and she was surprised by the power and exclusivity of that bond. A bond of astonishing strength.
It wasn't love as humans understood it, but it was love nonetheless; it simply didn't take the form of the feeling. It was a powerful and calm attachment. An attachment that deeply anchored you to existence, giving you an incredible sense of solidity.
She surrendered to this state, which had nothing to do with humans but felt strangly exciting. She returned his kisses and, once again, desired him furiously. She pushed aside his shirt while he removed his pants, then pulled him against her. As she clearly asked for immediate intercourse, Spock slid between her legs and gently applied pressure to find his way inside. A more complicated task than he would have thought. Enough so that Jo ended up helping him.
Once well positioned, Spock gently stroked the young woman's inner body with his penile organ, performing with application the strange rituals of human mating. He slid his hand under her posterior and felt the damp towel that was still under her. Given the critical situation, Spock made a super-Vulcan effort to ignore it. Calling upon all his mental discipline, he focused instead on the inside of his body. Immediately, Johann moaned as he clawed at her buttocks. Seeing her so receptive, he took care to stimulate very lightly her internal clitoris, as prolonged intercourse was considered to yield higher-quality results. To gain time, he kissed the hollow of her neck in what might appear to be tenderness, causing Johann to melt against him. Satisfied with this positive reaction, he focused on other 'affectionate touches—a technique involving kissing and in same time, sliding his hands over his partner's skin with light to moderate pressure.
After a few minutes of this, he touched her fingers with his own to verify the result. Spock perceived that his wife's mind had become strangely light and somewhat "fluffy", a weird reaction he deemed positive. Even though this surge felt unstable and irrational, the Vulcan encouraged it by making Johann feel once again all the attachment he had for her. The Terran moaned in ecstasy to the point where he felt the thrill.
Determining she was ready for more intense stimulation, he withdrew, knelt upright, and lifted her hips effortlessly as if she weighed nothingIn doing so, the towel was finally cleared away, and with immense relief, he was able to discreetly throw it on the floor. Returning to his task. He re-entered her, initiating a more dynamic rhythm, a maneuver he had studied in the third segment of the pornographic compilation confiscated from Mrs. Robert two weeks earlier. His wife began to moan, and he made a point of holding her in a way that highlighted his strength—a trait considered sexually stimulating by human females. When he estimated that the complete mating had lasted a total of twelve minutes—a rounded figure in the Vulcan duodecimal system—he increased his pace, adjusting his rhythm as meticulously as if calibrating an oscillator. Once everything was perfectly aligned, he focused on the clitoral organ, which responded aussitôt by triggering an orgasm, accompanied by a chorus of cries of satisfaction.
Once the uterine spasms subsided, He lifted her effortlessly to place her more comfortably in the middle of the bed, and lay back down over her, keeping one hand under her buttocks. He proceeded to the next phase of his mating plan, opting for slow, deep thrusts. According to the ninth segment of Mrs. Robert's compilation, this approach was a recommended follow-up to a more vigorous session. However, this technique proved significantly more challenging to execute. To be convincing, the male was required to display a 'loving' demeanor as romance novels called it. He did his best but quickly realized that this method required further practice. Although it may seem simple at first glance, it relied on subtle nonverbal cues, attitudes he had not studied with enough attention to replicate effectively. To cover his clumsiness, he induced another orgasm, this time by stimulating the posterior region of her genital system. Johann didn't just scream—she bit him. He concluded that she was likely unaware of his misstep.
To finish, he returned to the basic mating approach with which the intercourse had begun. Sexual education materials for males emphasized that while varying techniques was encouraged, one should avoid "overdoing it." An admirably vague recommendation. Forced to estimate, he hypothesized that a minimum of two and a maximum of three different approaches per session would remain within safe limits. Johann responded positively to the return of approach one, though with slightly less enthusiasm than the first time—likely due to her previous orgasms.
Matching her pace, he attempted to consciously regulate the intensity of her rising desire. It was a fascinating mechanism over which he can managed to exert effective control. He gradually built his pleasure in a crescendo, maintained a medium-intensity plateau for a sustained period, and then applied a growth curve that peaked while still using only half of his mental strength—a logical restraint in accordance with the precautionary principle. But after more safety tests, and if the results appeared conclusive, the use of full force could be perceived as a 'surprise,' and as she liked surprises, a subsequent application who could prove strategically rewarding.
Having achieved the mating according to Earth standards, he withdrew and lay beside her, observing. He noticed she was completely still and silent. A post-coital relaxation that guaranteed the mating had been a success. The orgasm caused this reaction, but everything indicated that positive feelings toward him were also contributing to this state. For example, during the mission, she had not shown any such relaxation despite repeated orgasms.
He had succeeded beyond any reasonable doubt and felt a certain pride, which was quickly controlled and diluted into mere satisfactionOf course, he had almost failed from the start, but his error had been using canned phrases; a mistake he had corrected by replacing the text with personal information. As for the attitude, he had chosen to replicate that of "confessions," a recurring approach used to resolve deadlocks between characters. One protagonist had to reveal embarrassing information about himsef, after which the other, feeling drawn to him, would most often grant their favor. A series of pretty absurd steps, but this technique had nonetheless produced the desired results.
Johann breathed deeply, looking at him with a strange expression, then turned to him to wrap her arm around his torso and snuggle against him. He froze for a moment, not enjoying this extreme and unnecessary touch, then relaxed, remembering that this type of embrace was mentioned in practically all the documents and erotic novels he had consulted. A classical move indicating that his wife had affection for him.
This proved that despite her denials and mockery, Johann responded as well as any Earth woman to romantic approaches. A very effective incentive. If all went as planned, she would soon start to "love" him. In that case, he estimated a 60% chance of reaching mating averages within a few months, 30% chance that she wants to keep the child and between 0% and 5% chance that she would show some submission or even obedience in certain areas.
A highly satisfactory result.
... Except, of course, for the fact that the wet towel was now lying on the floor.
Note:
In this chapter, I argue that Vulcans are not sensitive to physical beauty, but this position is non-canonical. In the episode The Cloud Minders from the third season, Spock is completely captivated by Droxine. Hearing her in the next room, Spock approaches her with a smoldering look, while Droxine gazes at him with longing, set to syrupy music. They have an enlightening conversation, of which the most notable part is:
Droxine: "You only take a mate once every seven years?"
Spock: "The seven-year cycle is part of Vulcan biology. At that time, the desire to mate is stronger than anything."
Droxine sits, completely bewildered, and looks at him with doe-like eyes.
Droxine: "Can this cycle be disrupted, Mr. Spock?"
Spock: (sitting beside her, equally troubled) "Extreme feminine beauty... is always... perturbing, madam."
Given that Kirk is currently being attacked with a knife by another half-naked pinup at that moment, the conversation ends there.
Personally, I find it quite unbelievable that Spock would delve into the shameful details of pon farr with an unknown princess, and even less believable that such a foolish character could seduce our brilliant Vulcan.
Moreover, other episodes contradict Cloud Minders. For example, in That Which Survives, Spock places no importance on beauty, considering it even futile to emphasize, as he values intelligence far above:
Kirk: "She was a remarkable woman."
McCoy: "And very beautiful."
Spock: "Beauty is fleeting, Doctor. Nevertheless, she was evidently extremely intelligent."
Since both episodes are from the third season, one might be surprised by such a glaring dichotomy. In the first episode, Spock disregards beauty to focus entirely on intelligence, while in the second, he disregards intelligence to focus solely on beauty. No matter how you look at it, the two approaches are completely incompatible. Therefore, which episode should we consider canonical?
According to Roddenberry, Cloud Minders was primarily aimed at attracting a female audience in hopes of boosting the show's ratings. (And considering the blonde carrot we're supposed to identify with, I'd say it's rather unflattering for us.) Thus, this episode can be counted among the category we all know as: "The Necessary Evils of Keeping the Lights On."
Therefore, I believe it's permissible for anyone to banish this scene into the absolute void, without any regrets.