The BLTS Archive - The Substitute by The Enigmatic Big Miss Sunbeam (bigmisssunbeam49@yahoo.com) --- Disclaimer: I own nothing! Paramount and Viacom own it all! Posting and Archiving: Anywhere! Anytime! All the time! Feedback: Anywhere! Anytime! All the time! --- "Dr. Selar really didn't do you justice." Tuvok's mild eyes rested on her face. "Justice? Is that the correct word, Dr. Crusher?" "Won't you call me Beverly? After all, I call you Tuvok." She lowered her head and smiled at him. "I assume that IS your first name." "Actually, you are somewhat mistaken. We Vulcans do have first names, but they are primarily cultural signifiers." "Human first names are cultural signifiers, too," she said. He looked at her again. More closely. "That is a very interesting response, Dr. Crusher." She lifted her brows. "I shall call you Beverly. I am comfortable with single names." There was a pause as he fiddled with the controls on the data screen. Beverly leaned over him; she could feel the warmth of his skin against her uniform. --- She was alone, and his wife was on the Vulcan homeworld. She asked him to dinner. He was grateful. After a week, it was a habit. "I am gratified that you share my dietary habits," he said. He had striking eyes, large and brown and alert. "Yes, I have been a vegetarian since I was a teenager." He gave her a look, no doubt calculating her age. That was one of the few things they had not discussed. "A penny for your thoughts, Tuvok." He leaned his head back. "That's an old human saying, isn't it?" "Yes, but I imagine you don't say that to one another on Vulcan. Since you have such strong telepathic powers." "Only with those to whom we are bonded is the telepathic connection really effective. My wife and I are very much in touch." --- After a couple of weeks, he fell into the habit of walking her back to her quarters at Starfleet Central. Their conversation was always courteous and formal, yet somehow warm; he had a very warm personality for a Vulcan. "Beverly, have you thought about getting an apartment away from Starfleet?" "I don't know how long I will be here. This appointment as Chief Medical Officer of Starfleet is clearly on an interim status." She shrugged. "If I do stay on, I want to know the area better before I go to the trouble of settling in." "I see." They walked more. "Shall I say good-night?" "You can come in and we can talk more. If you like." "That sounds most pleasant." --- "Do you miss your children? I know I miss Wesley. Did I tell you that he's an acting ensign on the Enterprise? He's dead set on entering Starfleet." Tuvok was looking at the tea she had poured. Earl Grey. Hot. Then he looked up. "*Missing* them would not be a typical Vulcan reaction." She liked her men a little frosty, a little ironic. Too much intensity had always frightened her. All those emotions with Jack. Better to put it behind her. He was looking directly at her. "I have come very much to enjoy our discussions of science. Obviously you are physically attractive and you know it, but I find your intellect equally enjoyable." "I'm glad I find favor in your eyes." He never smiled, but he had pleasant ironies. Actually, in their weeks together, they had shared a number of warm ironies. They looked at one another. "What are you doing tomorrow night, Tuvok?" "Obviously, I hope I will be dining with you. I enjoy my time with you, Beverly. And, since I am stationed here for two months prior to my starship assignment, it is only logical that I seek steady companionship. And you are a very good companion." He liked her a little; she knew. Her cheeks reddened. He was very attractive - tall and muscular, a sensuously cut face, but at the same time very fastidious and professional. She liked a fastidious and professional man. "I feel close to you, Tuvok." Tuvok looked down and then back up. "I feel close to you as well, Beverly." "I need this," she said. Slightly tense. Then she put her hand on his chest. And was surprised when he leaned over and kissed her. His mouth was full, warm, his breath strangely coppery. A penny. She would not think. She would enjoy this. They leaned in to each other. "We could go to my bedroom, if you want to continue this." He hesitated. When had a Vulcan ever hesitated? But he hesitated. "Tuvok, I would feel pleasure with you. But if your marriage . . ." "My marriage is an essential part of me, this is true." He seemed particularly taken with her hair, stroking it, winding it around his warm hand. "Recreational erotic ventures are not native to Vulcan culture." But he was breathing rather heavily. "Then perhaps you should leave." "Beverly, you intrigue me. There is an almost Vulcan reserve about you." "Then stay the night." --- He was so gentle, particularly for someone as strong, as large. And Vulcans were large, larger than human men. A pleasure to feel him against her legs. She felt him nestling in between her knees. She was comfortable with Vulcans, their long legs, their sobriety, their grace. Not human. Jean-Luc. Jean-Luc: all iron grace – his posture was wonderful, the posture of a dancing master . . . there was an equine poise about him as he moved his strong shoulders down the corridors of the Enterprise. Tuvok, his skin warm and dry, his breath quick and panting, placed himself against her. Then he began to move in. She couldn't help it; she gasped and then she cried out an unintelligible moan, and then she settled in with his careful rhythms, precise as a pulse. So big. So true. His careful long hands holding her shoulders, her hair. "Please," she whispered, although she couldn't remember what she wanted from him. They were in the moment and it was right, and he was right on top of her gasping and bucking against her. Then he kissed her neck, burying his face in her neck and she patted his back. "Will you stay here tonight?" "If you will let me." --- Tuvok was breathing, warm and careful. Sleeping. Jean-Luc, she said. Silently to the air. She knew Jean-Luc. She had examined him, seen the lurking organs of his strong little body, his wired-up heart, his large living lungs, the stomach and nestled coils of his intestines under that beautiful flat sheath of muscle and pale skin. Tuvok was so pleasant, so honest, but . . . he was no Jean-Luc. --- In the morning, they were both very careful to do their ablutions quickly and efficiently. Then, when they were through, Tuvok touched the side of her face and said, "I will see you later," and she had nodded. She ate a lonely breakfast, scrolling through the monitor unit. Then she put her breakfast dishes away. Beep-de-beep. The signal for a message from HQ. Hmm? Commander Scalio came on the viewscreen. "Dr. Crusher, I need to talk to you as soon as possible." Wesley. "I will be there in ten minutes," she said. Wesley. "I will see you then," he said. Not smiling. She felt her heart jump. His face was so serious. Something about Wesley. --- She entered Scalio's office. It was strangely chilly. "Dr. Crusher," he said, and then he said "Dr. Crusher," again. Wesley. Jack and now Wesley. Scalio sighed. "Kate Pulaski is an old friend of mine." Beverly said nothing. She lifted her chin. He sighed again. "Kate Pulaski is your classic crusty old-style doctor. You know, I don't think she ever really wanted starship duty, but . . . now, Dr. Crusher, I am speaking of course in the greatest of confidences . . . well, Kate is not . . ." he looked around the room wildly. "Kate's . . ." He sighed. "Kate's tough." He wouldn't meet Beverly's eyes. "And the Enterprise isn't easy either. Labs. Employees. Other people. I have never known Kate to . . . not be tough on other people." He was looking down, looking inward, as if shuddering from some horrible memory. "Can I help you, Commander Scalio?" she said. He buried his face in his hands. "Kate wants to be reassigned to the ground." Then he looked up. "And the Enterprise wants Kate to be reassigned to the ground. They have also expressly asked for you to be reassigned to them. --- She walked back to her quarters The Enterprise! She was being restationed! Jean-Luc had asked for her! The air was too light to breathe! She felt as if she were inhaling a gentle fire. Then she remembered: Tuvok. Of course, they had made plans to eat dinner together that evening. She straightened her shoulders. Tuvok would just have to understand. --- "Hello, Beverly." She looked at him. "Hello, Tuvok," she said. And swallowed. "There is something different about you. Is everything all right?" "I just found out that I've been reassigned to my old post on the Enterprise." He lifted his head. "I know you are pleased. You will be with your son." Did he sound a little sad? But he was a Vulcan, and they were never sad. "I didn't expect this to happen. That's why last night . . ." She wasn't quite sure how to end her sentence. She knew the blood was rushing to her face, she knew her breath was quick. "I wish I were logical." He tipped his head to the side. "Indeed." It would do him no justice to lie. "I have enjoyed your company so much, yet I am so glad to be going back." "That does not seem illogical to me. The Enterprise is quite fortunate." What had he felt last night? "No hurt feelings?" she said, and immediately knew it was a stupid thing to say. "No feelings at all, Beverly." They looked at one another. "Well, I guess I better turn in. I have so much to do tomorrow. When Starfleet makes up its mind to move its personnel around, it acts quickly. I'll be leaving in forty-eight hours." He touched her face again with his warm fingertips. "I will only be in your way. I will bid you farewell here." "Thank you," she said. "Live long and prosper," he said. And, as he turned to walk away, she went inside the lobby doors. ---- The End