The BLTS Archive- The Opening Door #2: Best Laid Plans by Isla (islaofhope@aol.com --- No, this isn't SuperConfident Spock saying "Shut up and kiss me" to an Astonished Kirk - as someone suggested in discussing the challenge. Spock *did* carefully plan the setting for their first kiss, but he doesn't become confident until after the kiss. "Shut up and kiss me" isn't exactly the smoothest line that Kirk has ever used with a new lover, but maybe he can be forgiven for being a little nervous when a certain Vulcan leans in to kiss him for the first time. Thank you to Istannor for the use of the Vulcan term, Lasha. The first time I posted this, I did not realize my source for this term, so I do apologize for using it without crediting Istannor's stories before this. Disclaimer: Star Trek and its characters all belong to Paramount, Viacom, and Rick Berman. I'm just borrowing the characters for a little while. This is fan fiction. I won't make any money from it. Okay to archive, but please contact me before archiving anywhere except ASCEM. Please send feedback, both positive and negative. --- "How did you find this place? It's a paradise!" His facial expression and the tone of his voice conveyed relaxation and contentment. He bent to pick up a flat rock and experimentally skipped it over the waves. "Should we see what the house looks like?" "I was told that the ocean is warm this time of year. If you would enjoy a swim, I will open up the house and take our bags inside." That was all the invitation that he needed. Kicking off his boots, and stripping off his clothes, he headed for the water. "You should join me. The water looks wonderful." He did not wait for my response, so I gave none. I gathered up his discarded clothes to take into the beach house. After a cursory inspection of the house, I hesitated only a moment before I removed my own clothes and wrapped myself in a robe. I became aware of a slight discomfort that, were I not Vulcan, I would characterize as nervousness. We had come here for a specific purpose. Admittedly, I had anticipated the trip with pleasure through the long, busy days leading up to our departure, but, now that we were here, I was experiencing some disquiet. I willed myself to relax and contemplate the appropriateness of this place. The cool ocean lapping against the hot sand was an apt metaphor for our joining. The multi-colored, sparkling waves of the ocean mirrored his eyes; the hot sand, which sought to be cooled by the ocean, was the red of Vulcan. Because I desired his mind, and he desired my body, our joining would satisfy us both. Our minds had touched many times, and they were unusually well attuned. The spark between us when we touched gave me reason to believe that I could satisfy his desires before I told him of mine. All would be well. My calm restored, I stripped off my own robe, and waded into the water to join him. He proposed the race; he is the stronger swimmer, and he defeated me easily. He waited for me, propped on his elbows in the sand, but close enough to the water that the waves lapped over his lower body. "Finally, something that I can beat you at!" He laughed and stretched out on the sand to absorb the warmth of the sun. I did not respond, but I positioned myself on my side facing him. His eyes were closed, and I ran my eyes leisurely over his body. I had seen him unclothed before - we had shared quarters on shore leave and on landing parties, and he generally sleeps in the nude - but this was the first time that I allowed myself to look at his body and consider touching him. He aroused me, and his own arousal was evident. "We did not discuss stakes when you challenged me to the race. What would you like as your prize?" Perhaps it was the brightness of the sun or the elevation of both of our heartbeats from the vigorous swim, but something led him to name that which I suddenly longed to give. "Your kiss, Spock." It was not logical, but I was exceptionally curious about this first kiss. Humans have such a mystique about kissing, and I wondered what it would feel like. "I must apologize if I am a disappointment. I have very little experience. Perhaps, you will teach me." "Shut up and kiss me." His grin softened the effect of his words. I bent over him, balancing myself on both of my hands. Closing my eyes, I placed my warm lips on top of his cool mouth. He closed his eyes, and placed his hand on the back of my head, as if to prevent me from escaping too easily. I felt a familiar spark at the initial contact, and, at first, I merely pressed my lips to his. I was surprised by how soft they were. His lips curved into a smile. "Spock." For the first time, I experienced the feel of my name on his lips. His lips parted slightly, mine parted in response, and his tongue darted out to meet mine. I felt heat, which began in the place where our mouths were joined, and coursed down my body to light a fire in my groin. I felt a twinge of fear and a shock of joy. One brief kiss, and I knew that I would never be free again. I remember the blaze that pon farr lit inside of me. Although it was not my Time, the rush of heat that I felt recalled that inferno. I captured both of his wrists in my hands, pushing his arms back into the sand above our heads. When I moved to cover his body with my own, he gasped, but my mouth was on top of his. I opened his mouth wider with my tongue. I later tried to recall every kiss, every touch, but I found that I could not fully recall the moments after my tongue first touched his. His body was warmer than usual from the sun and his exertion, but my own fingers and my tongue were hotter as I explored his body. Vaguely, I recall the surf lapping over us, cool in contrast. "I'm covered with salt. I should take a shower." He shifted under me, but he did not actually attempt to rise. "I have waited too long for you. I will not let you go, Lasha." My tongue moved down to his nipple. "I have never craved salt before, but I am greedy for the taste of you." I pinned him down with my arms and legs, so that he could do little more than accept the pleasure that I gave him. I silenced each attempt at further speech with a kiss or fingers pressed to his lips. I felt as though the flame of my own desire consumed me, and my only awareness was of him. Every touch that was met by a sound of pleasure, I repeated and deepened. His scent was different than the new-mown-hay scent that I generally associated with him - this day it was the salt of the ocean and the musky scent of human male arousal. Under the fine layer of salt, I tasted his skin. I have never understood the craving for the taste of animal flesh, but this flesh, willingly given, possessed an indescribable sweetness. This taste I would crave for the rest of my life. When I finally captured his penis in my mouth, the reality of touching and tasting the man that I desired was beyond anything that I had imagined. I curled my hand around the shaft and ran my tongue over the head, discovering the taste and the texture. I nipped delicately at the sac at the base, but then returned my attention to the head. I flicked my tongue over the delicate slit, and then engulfed his entire penis in my mouth and my throat. Before I could fully savor the sensation, I felt him convulse, heard him cry out, and hot fluid filled my mouth and throat. My own orgasm caught me by surprise; I had not been monitoring my own level of arousal. I stretched out on the sand beside him. Out of half-closed eyes, I watched a spider creep slowly across the sand, possibly searching for a cool place to hide from the sun. "Spock?" I was very aware of him beside me, struggling to catch his breath. He put a hand out to touch my chest, gently, almost shyly, but I did not move. I was astonished by my actions. I had held him down and forced my own desires on him without asking permission. I was reluctant to face him, but realized that it was unspeakably cruel to ignore him right now. "I am sorry, Jim. I cannot explain my lack of control." A soft chuckle. "I rather enjoyed your lack of control. That was incredible." I felt compelled to explain, and I sat up, not looking at him. "I had planned...I did extensive research." In my mind, I summoned up an image of the bedroom in the beach house and the large, presumably comfortable, bed. Instead, I had forced myself on him on the beach. "Do you honestly not know how much pleasure you gave me? Wasn't it good for you?" He rolled over and positioned himself on his knees in front of me, his voice a caress, but he did not touch me. "It was extraordinarily pleasurable, but it was over so quickly. I planned to do so much more." I was surprised how easy it was to tell him this. "More? There are many ways to make love - you can't possibly cover them all the first time." He put his hand under my chin, gently turning me to look into his eyes. "The bed would be far more comfortable than this beach." His eyes sparkled with silent amusement. "You know, I'm not nineteen anymore, but I bet that after I recover, we can try out that bed." "There is such a mystique surrounding `the first time.' I wished the first time between us to be perfect. I was caught unaware by my desire after I first kissed you." My eyes locked on his; I felt astonishment at how strongly I desired to kiss him again. However, it was he who grasped my right hand and brought it to his mouth; I felt successive jabs of pleasure as he kissed each of my fingertips. "I've never had anyone work so hard to please me. This was the most perfect `first time' I've ever experienced. Besides, after more than a week of anticipation, I didn't want to wait either." I considered his words carefully. Because we had each experienced pleasure, there was no need for regret. "Very well. I am gratified that I was able to please you." In spite of the warmth of the sun, I realized that he was shivering, so I left him long enough to retrieve the robes that I had left on the patio. He wrapped the robe around himself. "I think that I'd like a hot shower before dinner." I wrapped the other robe around myself. "I will join you." He stepped close to me, placing his arms around my neck. I could feel his thoughts - and his desire - as he lifted his face for another brief kiss. "Not if you want to have dinner before we make love again." My arms tightened around him. I realized that I did want to make love again. I thought of showering with our bodies close together under the flow of warm water. Control would be extraordinarily difficult in that situation. "Understood." I released him reluctantly. "I will shower in the other room." I started to walk inside, but he put a hand on my arm. "Spock, just now when I touched you, I could feel your thoughts." "The ability has been yours for some time. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that you can read my emotions and certain of my thoughts that I choose to share with you." "I'm not telepathic at all. I've been tested." "Our minds are very attuned to each other. Even if you have no telepathic powers with anyone else, you have with me since the first time that I joined our minds. " "Of course, you're right. But that wasn't really my question. A few minutes ago when you moved away from me, I touched you, and you weren't *there* anymore." I took his hand in my own, intertwining our fingers. "I momentarily believed that I forced myself on you. When I felt shame and regret for my actions, I shielded myself from your mind." He smiled as he lifted our joined hands to his mouth. "I trust that you've recovered from your shame and regret." He looked impossibly young and beautiful at that moment. I found that I was experiencing some difficulty breathing, and I barely recognized my own voice when I said, "I have." --- I stood under the warm shower soaping myself, washing away the grit of the sand that felt like it was everywhere on my body. Well, just about everywhere. I grinned to myself. It would be much worse if Spock had put his cock inside of me. My hands paused at that thought, and I felt myself grow hot all over. Embarrassment? Maybe a little, but I had to admit that mostly I was curious. What would it feel like? It had been a long time for me. I was looking forward to him touching me again, but mostly I wanted him to look at me like he did this afternoon. What did that look remind me of? I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of the hot water flowing over me, and the answer came to me: the first time we had played chess together. I laughed at myself. What the heck was wrong with me, thinking of chess and making love at the same time? But it was true. The first time that I beat him at chess, he had looked surprised and impressed. He later told me that he was pleased to have discovered a worthy chess opponent. What an amazing man! My response to him this afternoon had been so intense. I had been celibate for several months due to the pressures of work, the lack of shore leave, and my policy against romances with crewmembers. But my response to him wasn't simply that I had been without sexual contact in such a long time. When he first kissed me, he was so shy, so tentative that I was afraid that I would have to show him everything. Not that I wasn't perfectly capable of it. I've initiated a few virgins in my time, and gotten them off to a good start, if I do say so myself. But as soon as we really started kissing, he learned fast. It was clear that he was paying attention to my responses. Everything that felt good, he did again until it felt incredible. I almost came before he even reached my cock. It felt like he was reading my mind when he was touching me. Well, maybe he was a little, but maybe it was just that he was paying attention to me. No was ever made love to me like that before. Hopefully, soon he would let me reciprocate. For a moment, I wished that he were in the shower with me. The shower was large enough for both of us; when I imagined soaping his chest and his back, I felt heat spreading through me again, but I pushed the thought aside. There would be plenty of time for shared showers in the next two weeks, and I was looking forward to the evening. I had no doubt that he had planned it as carefully as he did his scientific surveys before we beamed down to a new planet. That thought gave me pause. I had just taken my first officer and science officer as my lover. Or, rather, he'd taken me. Of course, I'd already thought of this before I'd even said yes to him. I'd wondered how it was going to affect our working relationship, but I decided that this was just a new aspect of our already close friendship: a delightful new aspect. I grinned. My logical friend had scheduled us two weeks of shore leave to get used to this change in our friendship. I turned off the water, stepped out of the shower, and grabbed a towel. As I dried myself off, I felt contentment steal through me. He hadn't really needed to go through this much trouble to make me his lover. Once I'd made up my mind, if he'd asked me I would've given myself to him in either of our quarters aboard the ship. But he was right: it was better for us to get used to this new relationship uninterrupted by duty. What he did to me on the beach was more than just technique. It was how he made me feel. He really cared about me. We both really cared about each other. Feeling it as a sexual expression felt amazing. I should be scared to death. This was an unbelievably important friendship that we were risking by turning it into a love affair. But we were risking it together, so I knew it would be okay. Well, I hoped that it would be okay. This wasn't just another relationship. This was Spock. I studied my face in the mirror. Was I just a little sunburned or was I blushing? I made a face at the man in the mirror, looped the towel over the rack, and headed into the bedroom to find something to wear. --- Dressed in shorts and a light, short-sleeve shirt, I walked out of the bedroom, trailed through the living room, and stopped in the doorway of the kitchen. Something smelled amazing, and I realized how hungry I was. He was at the kitchen counter, chopping vegetables for a salad. He didn't look up when I stopped in the doorway, and I wondered whether he *felt* me looking at him. His hair was still slightly damp from his shower. He was dressed in a flowing, white tunic that ended below his hips, and matching trousers. He looked positively regal, and I felt underdressed. I had a sudden picture in my mind of pulling off his clothes. I stifled something between a chuckle and a gasp when I remembered that he looked even more regal undressed. I crossed the room to stand behind him. I put my arms around his waist, and pressed my body full length against his. He had given no sign that he was aware of my presence, but I felt his heart rate increase, even though he continued to calmly chop the vegetables. I smiled, enjoying the feel of my friend - my lover - in my arms. His clothes were cool and silky, but I could feel the heat of his body through the thin material. I had rarely thought about it, but he was almost a head taller, and I had to stretch up to press my lips to the back of his neck. "Do you know how much I love you?" "Affirmative." His level voice startled me, and I drew back, feeling my own heart rate elevate. When he turned to look at me, he had a smile in his eyes, but his manner was purposeful. "Dinner is almost ready. Would you like to eat on the patio? I have not set the table yet." "Are you always this impossible to sweet talk, Mr. Spock?" I crossed my arms across my chest, pretending to be irritated. He put the paring knife down on the kitchen counter, wiped his hands on a towel, and turned again to place his hands on my shoulders. "Forgive me. I answered the question that you asked in the most efficient manner." He leaned forward to kiss my mouth. I gave myself over to the kiss, enjoying the heat and the exotic taste of his mouth. I pulled away slightly to look up into his dark eyes. "Maybe my memory is faulty, but I thought you told me that you were inexperienced at kissing." "Have I learned my lesson well?" "Mmm, very well." "I am honored. I had an excellent instructor." I drew him close again, and I felt his mouth on the side of my neck. "If I didn't know you better, I would accuse you of being a liar. You kiss far too well to be a beginner." "I must confess that I have experienced a few kisses. When I was affected by the spores on Omicron Ceti and another time when I was not...myself." How did my kiss compare to those kisses? Something - maybe it was only my ego - told me that he preferred my kiss. "I'm not asking for an explanation of your past sex life. God knows, I've kissed more than a few women. I only wanted to let you know that I enjoyed kissing you." "I am pleased. I, too, enjoyed kissing you." I smiled again, and allowed him to extricate himself from my arms. I watched as he moved around the kitchen briskly before I said, "I'll set the table out on the patio. If we don't get moving, we'll miss the sunset." --- Perhaps it was the clean, salt-sea air, or my ravenous hunger - I hadn't eaten lunch before leaving the ship - but dinner was delicious, the best I had eaten in a long time. It was completely vegetarian, of course, but I didn't mind. I ate everything that he put in front of me. He didn't appear to be as hungry. "You okay, Spock?" "Jim, earlier I said that I knew how much you loved me. I wish to be honest with you." I couldn't even imagine where he was going with this, but I had to know. "Of course, we've always been honest with each other, haven't we? "Yes. This concerns the concept of love. I have read extensively on the topic, but my personal experience is somewhat limited. I know your thoughts, so I know that what you define as love is what you experience towards me - " "So, you don't exactly know what I mean when I say that I love you? Do you want me to explain?" "No, I do know what you wish to convey. However, I wish to experience it myself." "Well, of course, I'll show you what you need to know. But you did pretty well this afternoon without any coaching." My embarrassment at talking about this surprised me, but I was determined to give him as much encouragement as he needed. "You misunderstand me, Jim. I am not referring to the physical act of love. I feel confident of my abilities there. It is the emotional component with which I have some doubt." I was astonished. Was he asking me to teach him how to fall in love with me? It sounded like the ultimate conflict of interest for an instructor. I swallowed a smile. "Um, sure. I don't know if I've ever taught it, but I've experienced it once or twice, so I think I can help you." "That would be agreeable." --- The sun was sinking into the horizon when he carried the plates back into the kitchen. He returned with a bottle of champagne and two flute glasses. "Look what I found. I know that you don't usually drink, but will you have some with me?" "I will." He opened the bottle efficiently and filled two glasses. After handing one to me, he touched his glass to mine. "To us." I recognized this curious Terran custom, and I remembered a toast that I had heard before. "To the future." He lifted both his eyebrows. "May they be the same." We sipped the effervescent liquid, our eyes drinking in the sight of each other. After a time, he took my glass from me and put both glasses on the table. There was no hesitation or awkwardness in him as he arranged himself against me; his back pressed against my chest, both of us facing the ocean. I breathed in the scent of his hair. He put his arms on top of my own, to draw both my arms tighter around him. My erection pressed against the small of his back. I allowed my hand to brush gently against his upper thigh, and then I sought the hardness of his erection through his thin shorts. He gasped slightly at the contact, and pressed himself more firmly against me. The sky began to turn shades of red and orange. It was difficult to concentrate on anything other than my growing heat and the feel of him in my arms. The anticipation was sweet, as I brushed my lips against his hair. "I knew of your fondness for sunsets, but I have rarely paused to consider their beauty." "Then let's make a date to enjoy every sunset for the next two weeks." "Perhaps it will give me enough data for a research project that I am considering. I believe that it would be possible to simulate a sunset aboard ship." He laughed softly. "Spock, that's a terrible idea. If a sunset could be simulated, it wouldn't be as beautiful. The whole point is how fragile and unique each sunset is." He was silent a moment before he said, "How long have you felt this way about me?" The question caught me by surprise. Was now the appropriate time to tell him that I wished to bond with him, to join our minds for the rest of our lives? I pushed that idea from my mind. "I was intrigued by you the very first time I saw you." His soft laugh was sweet music. "Intrigued, Spock? That sounds like a high compliment." He turned in my arms. His lips grazed my ear, my cheek, and my eyebrow. "T'hy'la." He said the Vulcan word hesitantly, perhaps only guessing at its meaning. "Do you know what you did to me this afternoon? That was a little more than `intrigued'!" I looked into his eyes; in spite of the amusement there, the question remained. Trailing my fingers down his cheek, I tipped up his chin and kissed his mouth gently. Because I had never paid much attention to my sense of taste beyond occasional scientific inquiry, I could not identify what the kiss tasted like, but it was pleasant, possibly addictive. How astonishing that I was free to do this. How long had I felt *this* for him? Was it only since I first kissed him this afternoon or had it always been there along with my desire for his mind? My reaction to kissing him was entirely unexpected, life-changing. I wanted to tell him this, but I wondered if he would understand my twin desires for his mind and his body. I brushed my lips across his lips, savored the spark that arced between us, and said, "I do not believe that I wish to tell you. Perhaps another time." His eyes widened, and he laughed that sweet laugh again. "I never realized that you could be such a tease." I felt him relax completely in my arms, and I wondered if he would fall asleep before we had the opportunity to enjoy each other's bodies again. I decided that I would be satisfied watching him sleep; I could wait until tomorrow, if necessary, to touch him the way that I imagined. I thought about the Terran expression `to make love.' The expression seemed very appropriate at this moment. I knew his thoughts and emotions well enough to recognize that our sexual contact had strengthened his feelings for me. I tightened my embrace around him. My own feelings were confused; I wanted to grasp until his very bones were engulfed within myself, but I knew this to be madness. I would kill anyone who harmed a hair of his head. How fragile his rib cage seemed, how terrible were the warring desires to cherish and to crush it. There had been a silence between us, but he broke it suddenly. "I can't breathe." The same was true of me, but I loosened my grip slightly. I was aware of his erection pressed against my thigh. I shifted fractionally so that my own erection rubbed against his. He tilted his face up for an additional kiss. It was now getting dark, so I could barely see his face, but I could feel his sexual excitement building. "Dinner was delicious, Spock. I know what I want for dessert." I could not resist teasing back. "Vulcans do not eat dessert. I did not consider your fondness for sweets, so I did not prepare anything. It was very selfish of me." "I can think of something sweet that I would like to put in my mouth right now." He turned his head to run his tongue along the point of my right ear. "That bed inside looked awfully inviting. Race you?" I was in no hurry to break this delicious contact. We continued to kiss and touch each other, gently at first, and then more urgently. It was several moments before we broke apart to walk to the bedroom. Once there, I took him into my arms again, kissing his mouth fiercely, before lowering him fully clothed onto the bed. I said, "Wait here for me." He laughed softly. "It would take a supernova to force me from this bed." His eyes followed me as I moved around the bedroom, lighting candles on the bedside table and the dresser. "You don't need to be romantic anymore. I'm more than ready. I don't want to wait any longer." I felt a jolt of pleasure. Yes, anticipation was sweet, but the taste of him would be even sweeter. I allowed the anticipation to build. "Perhaps, but it pleases me, and I believe it will also enhance your enjoyment." His green-gold eyes and his golden hair seemed to glow in the candlelight as I knelt beside the bed to taste his mouth again. He put his hands behind my head to draw me closer. The heat of his desire warmed my mind. I stretched myself out next to him and kissed him, touching him as I had that afternoon. His arms went around my neck, pulling me close for a moment, and then he placed his hands on my shoulders. I kissed the side of his face, his temple, and the side of his throat. His eyes were closed, and he lay very still beside me, barely breathing. I slid down to kiss his collarbone and felt suddenly cold. How had I never noticed the faint scar at the base of his throat? It was the unmistakable bite of the ah woon. Mesmerized, I put out my right index finger to trace the line of the scar. I had a sudden illogical thought: had McCoy anticipated this moment and left this scar to remind me of my unworthiness? His eyes opened. "Spock?" His smile and the sound of his voice thawed the cold in my chest cavity. His stillness was broken. He took my hand and kissed it before he rolled me onto my back. --- I bent over him to kiss his mouth, tangling my fingers in his dark, silky hair. He returned the kiss, and I felt a slight tremor run through him. I slid a hand inside his tunic, opening the fastenings, as I stroked down his shoulder, brushed my fingertips across his erect nipple, and spread my fingers to caress his flat stomach. He was too rigid under my hands. "Spock. Relax and let me love you." I kissed his eyelids shut. I brought my hand back up to lightly - and then more firmly - stroke his nipple. I hoped it was pleasure that made him gasp, but his tension didn't decrease. This afternoon when he had been focussed on my response, I could tell that his arousal had caught him by surprise. I sat up and pulled off my shirt and shorts. I felt his eyes on me; I laid my hand on the silk that covered his shoulder. "Can I take this off?" Before he could answer, I opened his tunic the rest of the way. He remained silent, his eyes roaming over my body as I stripped off the rest of his clothes. When we were both naked, I began a slow exploration of his upper body. He gasped and gripped my shoulders as I took my time teasing his nipples with my tongue. In fact, he gripped my shoulders so hard that he left bruises, but I didn't mind. I was too busy enjoying the taste and feel of his body. I kissed and stroked his upper body until he relaxed and the tremor that ran through him was almost like a purr. Only then did I allow my hand to slide down his body to his hip, and then brushed it gently against his cock. He didn't react physically to this light touch. Nor did he react when I wrapped my hand around his cock. "Do you like what I'm doing? Do you want something else?" "Your touch is agreeable." His eyes were shut tight and there was a look of intense concentration on his face. I ran my tongue along the underside of his cock, and then I backed off for a moment. "Agreeable?" I tongued the head of his cock. He gasped. "Most agreeable." I stroked the inside of his thighs, and tremors ran through him. "Will you do something for me?" "Anything, t'hy'la." I smiled. "I need to know what you like. If you control your reaction, this won't be any fun for either of us. Do you think that you can let go enough to let me know what feels good to you?" His dark eyes opened wide. "Yes, Jim." After that, he allowed himself to enjoy all the pleasure that I gave him with my mouth and hands. Yes, he definitely purred. --- At first, I allowed him to pleasure me, and I gave him the feedback that he required. He is most skillful in the physical act of love. However, after a time, I found that I longed to touch him. He didn't resist when I rolled him over on his back and commenced my own exploration of his body. We caressed each other equally then, neither waiting for the other to lead the way. I touched him everywhere with my mouth and fingertips. I whispered ancient Vulcan words of love and desire, which I half-remembered reading when I was barely out of boyhood. I called him my Lasha. He said my name over and over. My mouth caressed his erection, and he turned his body to take my erection into his own mouth, sending waves of pleasure through us both. I lost track of time. --- Later, we lay with our limbs intertwined. When I shifted slightly to rearrange my body against him, he said, "I trust you're not running out on me." "I am not leaving." I pulled him closer. "Spock, can I ask you something?" "Yes, t'hy'la, anything." "What does that mean - t'hy'la? You called me that before, but I was too distracted to ask." I reflected for a moment. "The closest Terran translation for t'hy'la, I believe, is friend, brother, lover. The other half of my soul. It is all those and more. I am not sure that it is translatable." He looked astonished and pleased. "It's beautiful. What else did you call me? Lasha?" I was slightly uncomfortable. "Lasha is something cherished - but more like a treasured plaything than a valuable piece of jewelry. It is perhaps somewhat disrespectful. I should not call you that." He seemed even more pleased by this endearment. "I've never felt like I was someone's treasured plaything before. But it's how I feel in your arms." He kissed me again. "As for it being disrespectful, I wouldn't recommend you call me that on the bridge. But between the two of us, I find it very erotic." Years later, in a conversation with my mother, he would discover that 'Lasha' was the name by which I had called my pet sehlat. He could neither control his laughter, nor explain it to my mother. I was extremely embarrassed and apologetic when he confronted me with his new knowledge, but he begged me to continue to use the endearment. By then, he told me, I had been calling him 'Lasha' so long that it felt like 'darling' even if it meant `Rover.' "I guess I'm not very imaginative; I can't think of anything I want to call you other than Spock." I kissed his eyebrow, the enchanting roundness of his right ear. "My mother occasionally called me sweetheart, but she could not explain the term satisfactorily." "I don't think that Terran endearments mean anything, and I don't know how comfortable I would be calling you 'sweetheart.' Maybe, I'll try it." I lifted an eyebrow. "As long as you do not do so in front of Dr. McCoy." He laughed softly. "No, never in front of Bones." He sobered suddenly. "It occurs to me that, although I have known you and been your best friend for a long time, I don't know your language. I only know enough Vulcan to exchange greetings at diplomatic functions. I tried to learn some on my own, but I've never found the time to learn much." "It would give me great pleasure to teach you." "I'd like that. I wonder how much I can learn in two weeks..." I sat up in the bed. "Jim, I wish to be honest with you. I find it disconcerting that you imply that this relationship exists only within the boundaries of the next two weeks." He looked surprised. "I didn't mean that. I only meant that we could set aside time in the next two weeks, so that we can concentrate it. Once we're back on the ship, who knows how busy we'll be." He had flared up defensively, but then he stopped, appearing to carefully consider my words. "But you're right...we need to talk about it. When you suggested that we take the time off together, it was to redefine our relationship. But we'll have to decide what we'll do when we go back to the ship. I still want my first officer, my best friend, and my chess opponent. But I'm not willing to give up my lover." I felt an odd, unidentifiable pain in my chest; the pain was slightly eased when I pulled him close against me again. "Forgive me. I misunderstood what you said. We will discuss it, but we do not need to talk about it tonight." I stroked my right hand through the silk of his hair. "I wish to be everything to you." He extricated himself from my arms, and raised himself up on one elbow. My right hand stroked his hair, and he lightly touched the curls of hair on my chest. "When Vulcans make love - " "It would be imprecise to say that Vulcans make love. The concept of love is not the same for a Vulcan." As soon as I said it, I regretted it. Would he misunderstand? "Does it bother you when I call what we just did `making love'? What do you call it?" "For you…with you...joining our bodies is `making love.'" Suddenly, I found that I did not wish to talk anymore. I wished only to hold him and feel him fall asleep in my arms. "T'hy'la, I am very tired. And you are, too. I recommend sleep. We will have much time to talk tomorrow and in the coming days." He, too, was fighting sleep, but he has always been most persistent when he requires information from me. "When Vulcan join bodies, don't they also join minds? I hate to bring her up, but didn't you say that you had some kind of a mind link or bond to T'Pring. I guess I thought it was sexual somehow because it brought you together. Isn't the mind meld actually part of joining for Vulcans? His extremely perceptive question brought me suddenly wide-awake. Could it be that he was asking for that which I longed for? I had planned to ask him to bond with me this first night, but the unexpectedly strong feelings of physical desire that he had aroused in me on this day inexplicably made me hesitate. "Yes, Jim, the mind meld is the true act of joining for a Vulcan. The joining of bodies is secondary." There is, of course, much to be said for the joining of bodies. I watched him absorb the information, and waited for his next question. When it did not come, I answered it anyway. "You wish to know why I 'made love' to you without joining your mind. You are wondering if, perhaps, this act means less to me than it does to you." "How did you know that's what I was wondering? I wasn't sure myself. I just knew that I was uneasy." I ran my hand gently down his side. I felt him shiver with pleasure under my hand. "I know what you feel for me. I know that you did not give yourself to me lightly. Please believe that you are precious to me - more precious than you know. But you are correct that to truly 'make love' to you, I must join with your mind." "Spock, you must know that I am willing." I wanted to say to him, how can you be willing to do something that you do not fully understand? Do not trust me blindly. How could even I be sure of my own trustworthiness regarding something that I wanted so fiercely? I slid my arms around him, and he settled himself against me with a soft exhalation of his breath. Aloud, I said, "You are very tired. Sleep now. We will talk about this tomorrow." I rested my mouth on the nape of his neck; there were so many reasons that I admired this beautiful, mysterious human. "I feel for you as much as I am capable of feeling. And I wish to spend the rest of my life beside you." However, he had complied with my request that he sleep, so he did not hear my wish. --- I felt a little guilty about practically cross-examining him about the mind meld. If Spock was admitting to being tired, he must be absolutely exhausted. How long had he gone without sleeping? Between the incident with the Tholians and the busy week we'd had before we left on shore leave, I doubted that he'd slept at all. I must have fallen asleep right after he said that we would talk in the morning. I remember waking up a little bit when he got out of bed to extinguish the candles. I wasn't awake enough to open my eyes, but I *felt* him standing by the bed motionless. I somehow sensed that he was considering using the quiet hours of the night for study or maybe meditation, but I was relieved when he rejoined me in the bed. When he wrapped his arms around me again, I woke up more fully. "Spock?" "Yes, Jim. I am here. Go back to sleep." And then I must have fallen asleep again almost instantly. --- The End