#my man Spock had to choose between his people and his husband and he choose Kirk <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[spacebugarts]

Just watched Kirk and Spock make out sloppy style for like a full 5 minutes get a room you two

[kinetic-elaboration]

April 25: 2x16 The Gamesters of Triskelion

Finally watched some more Star Trek. I feel like it’s been forever...

Today’s ep is The Gamesters of Triskelion, which is... okay. It’s not terrible but I think its best aspects are the most familiar: the type of alien, the moral values at play; and its weakest are its most unique.

I think Spock likes it when Kirk says “mind the store.” What a folksy human thing to say!

Plus now that he’s Captain he gets to sit in the chair.

This conversation between Spock and Scotty is hilarious. “I’m assuming you mean they disappeared in an unusual way??” “Uh, yeah?? Do you think I’m dumb?”

This alien looks like Lady Gaga c. 2010

Kirk is being very Dramatic today.

Come on, Spock, gotta get your man.

You know Spock is worried when he mentions hope. That is, as McCoy says, a human emotion.

“Collars of obedience.” Kinky.

Stylish pink jail.

I’m really feeling this Spock and Bones interaction today. That’s a great eyebrow lift.

If the random alien is leaving, Uhura must have been his ass down.

“Nourishment interval.” We need to bring this into our modern vocabulary.

Not one, but TWO ladies in command gold today (one at Communications, and one at Spock’s station).

Wild aquatic fowl.

I feel like this episode is another example of a writer putting her alien sex fantasy on television. Like, a hardcore alien sex fantasy. The obedience collars, the training harness, the whipping, the weird flirtation between Chekov and his “training thrall”--herself a very androgynous alien, just to throw some gender play in there.

Kirk turning up the charm again. I missed Charming!Kirk. I mean, picking up a silver platter to use as a mirror and saying “That’s beautiful”? This man has no shame.

I feel like this episode shows how Spock’s logic is actually a very effective life strategy. He’s facing a very mysterious situation with high stakes--literally his best friend/soulmate/captain lost, plus two more crewmen--but he isn’t defeatist like McCoy or defensive like Scotty. He just follows the evidence, even when the evidence seems wild. And he was right.

Detective Kirk time!

“Are they computers?” He’s hoping so, since he’s very good at defeating computerized enemies.

Could it be instead another example of aliens who have transcended their physical bodies?

He is really laying the charm offensive on thick here.

I get how people have vague memories of TOS and remember Kirk as slutty, because certainly there are lots of shots of him kissing ladies, but like... 90% of the time he's using charm as a weapon, like he doesn't like Lady Gaga, he just wants to get off this planet.

“Love, for one thing.” Time for Kirk to be a Romantic Nerd again. He sure does love love!!

See imo just as it’s ridiculous for him to limit love to being one of the most important things on Earth, since he barely even spends any time on Earth and his general thesis is about what all intelligent creatures can care about besides their basic needs being met by “Providers,” I think it’s silly to limit love to being between men and women. And just as he’s kinda lying about the Earth thing, I think he’s lying about the heterosexual thing.

People in love “live together, help each other, make each other happy.” I love his definitions of love!! Like with Edith, he center helping each other in the definition.

McCoy and Scotty think they can take on Spock lmao. The Captain’s life is at stake; he’s not fooling around. And he’s right too so y’all can shush!!

Honestly, that leaning down to talk quietly to them--I know it’s because he doesn’t want to say the word “mutiny” too loud where other people can hear him, but it really reads like he’s mocking them.

Shauhna is harassed at work.

Spock’s like ‘screw a landing party, I will retrieve my space husband by myself... and I guess McCoy can come too.’

McCoy’s voice was the one Kirk heard but he still calls out to Spock.

Mmm, yes, disembodied alien brains.

I like the painted background behind them, too. Which is apparently stolen from Devil in the Dark. S2 needs more painted backgrounds.

“You think YOU’RE competitive? A race that does nothing but gamble? Well you’ve never met humans lol.”

Since when has Kirk ever competed for a woman? Hardly a competition when he always wins.

“Fresh thrall” something so... ugh about that phrase.

Ah, yes, an Andorian.

I’m starting to feel like this is Spock’s Pre-Reform Vulcan Sex Fantasy.

I feel like Shauhna will eventually become the leader of the Triskellion people. My mom thinks it would be cool for Kirk to meet her again in the future. I feel like there’s a fanfic in there somewhere...

“I didn’t lie, I just...lied.”

Honestly, don’t bother leaving everything to these disembodied colorful brains, just take Shauhna with you and enlist her in Starfleet. Or at least, like, high school.

...And after all that she STILL has a crush on Kirk. The man is too powerful.

What, no return to the Enterprise? No Kirk appearing shirtless on the bridge? No everyone acknowledges that Spock was right the whole time? No awkward little joking time?

I guess perhaps Kirk is embarrassed.

So overall... again, B basically.

As far as commonly used tropes in Star Trek go, this one is actually one of my favorite ones. I like it more than “godlike man must be defeated” and probably even more than “computer runs society,” though not as much as “old Earth tech becomes sentient.” But generally speaking “aliens transcend corporeal bodies by becoming too smart” is a good trope and I like seeing the different spins on it: the Organians, who can choose corporeal bodies if they want and are incredibly peaceful; the aliens from Return to Tomorrow, who wish they still had bodies; the aliens from The Cage/The Menagerie, who do have bodies but can’t do much with them, who must rely on aliens they capture to do physical work on the planet’s surface for them; and these aliens, who are so bored they must rely on arbitrary wagers using enslaved aliens just to have something to do. There’s something sort of... sad but fitting about that fate. Understandable, awful, pathetic. Still, I wouldn’t call this my favorite take on the trope.

But the specifics of the story, outside the “brain-aliens trope,” I didn’t like so much. The BDSM kink stuff mixed in with like actual slavery made me super uncomfortable. I know it’s based on Ancient Rome but like... even though it was a clear bread and circuses situation, that was not what I was thinking of tbqh.

This is a good episode for showcasing Star Trek Values, which overall I would say are my values. I do see how some people today would criticize them for being a little... well. How to say it. Colonizer-savior. I completely disagree that this is the reading that should be given to them and in fact I think it’s a bad faith reading but people are the way they are and certain things are in vogue sometimes and not others, so. I just mean that when Kirk says that they (the Federation, one would assume) have helped other civilizations “progress” or whatever word he uses, it sounds a little like they came in and made alien societies better using their own values. But I would say that what we actually see, in specific examples throughout the series, is the Federation wanting the civilizations it interacts with to be free, in fact requiring members state to be free, and that is really the one value a free society can impose on others or require of others--choosing slavery or dominion is choosing to relinquish all future choices, and thus cannot be allowed by any society that values freedom. That catch-22 that we see so much now. So, my point is, I think the values Kirk epitomizes for the show are freedom, self-determination, and a certain conception of progress, too: the ability to grow and develop, the avoidance of stagnation. And certainly this episode shows a clear case: having everything provided for you in exchange for being the professional playthings of a bunch of disembodied brains is objectively bad! Surely we can all agree on that. But this obvious example is used as an excuse for Kirk to speechify on the topic of what a utopian future will look like, what the best of humans can be, and what the rest of the universe could be like if it learns from our best traits (and not our worst). Which is overall something I find very comforting.

I’d just been thinking, at the beginning of this episode, that I think S1 is a better Kirk season than S2. S2 has too many episodes that problematize his leadership or his heroism, or that barely even use him--even episodes like The Trouble With Tribbles that outright mischaracterize him imo. But this episode really was Classic Kirk and I appreciated that. We see him being charming, smart, selfless, strong, creative, romantic... coming in at the end to embody the utopian values of the series.

Spock was so well characterized and so smart and so heroic, too, that he kinda was the mvp for me, though... Don’t take away my Kirk stan card lol. Spock was just so In Command... You can see how he could become a captain later, even if being in command never really interested him much.

I don’t entirely get why Kirk bargained for the thralls to all stay and make their own government (or to be trained in self-governance by their enslavers... a whole different issue tbqh), given that it’s already been established that most/all of them have been kidnapped from other planets. Should they not be... returned?

And if most/all of them are 2nd or later generations, that’s a whole other complex issue that could perhaps use third party mediators or something...

I also wondered about Shahna's origins. Was she the descendant of another civilization that is native to the planet, or is it just that her people were kidnapped so much earlier that she herself, personally, has never lived anywhere else?

I think it both makes more sense and is a more fitting ending if it’s the first. It makes sense to me that the first peoples enslaved by the brains were natives of the planet: more convenient that way. Also, I think we need to see more alien planets with more than one humanoid or human-intelligence level species.

And, if her people are native to the planet, having them become leaders of their own right again and not just possessions of the glowing brains is more powerful. Otherwise it's kinda sad: yes, they can form their own government here, but they've still been robbed of their real history and their real homeland, which they don't even remember.

Also as my mom pointed out, it’s not clear the brains themselves are native to the planet. They could have been invaders--the last real thing they did before they started wagering fake money--and Shauhna’s people the natives.

I really did like Shahna a lot and I hope she becomes the leader of whatever government they set up and eventually does get to travel into space.

Imo this was one of those TOS eps where the potential back story and the hints of world building are more interesting than the actual story.

Also apparently the actor who played Galt was trying to walk in a gliding manner so it wouldn’t be clear what he was hiding under those robes and... I have to say, definitely wheels.

Next up is A Piece of the Action, one of my favorites. Great plot, great fun, great sci fi concept, great Kirk material!

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

Mrs Kirk {Part 4}

Fandom: Star Trek

Pairing: Jim Kirk x Reader  (She/Her identifying)

Warning: References sex in the past

Writer: @imaginesofeveryfandom aka @thequeenofthehobbits

Summary/request: You and Jim get married. Accidentally. On a new federation planet. Without knowing about it. Turns out its legally binding. Fuck.

Part 1 X, Part 2 X, Part 3 X, Part 5 X

You start to wake up, keeping your eyes closed and curling further into the pillow underneath your head, nice smelling and soft, warm. You feel content and happy and you really don’t want to wake up and report to the med bay only to deal with Ensigns with burns and bruises and a grumpy Bones. It’s not until you realise that the pillow is moving slowly up and down and that the nice smell is more like someone’s aftershave than fabric conditioner that you open your eyes.

You’re greeted by the sight of a chest, your eyes follow it up a neck to a familiar face which is fast asleep still. Jim. You’re not that surprised, and you rationalise that people gravitate towards each other when they’re asleep and that it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. But that doesn’t stop the mild embarrassment at the arm tightly wound around your waist or the way your legs are twisted between his.

Seeing Jim asleep is something you never thought you’d see and it’s a strange experience. The lines that usually line his face whether from concern for his crew or from laughter are gone and eased away, he’s drooling slightly not that you would let him know that (you’re not sure he’d appreciate you point out that he drools in his sleep), and he’s hair has taken on an unruly quality that perhaps explains why he always looks so well kept during the day. You had always assumed his hair wasn’t naturally that neat.

“James…” You push yourself to yours knees, the arm around your waist falling away to the mattress. You shake him lightly after looking at the clock which indicates that you’re both due for your shifts, not that the Captain got much free time anyway. He was on shift from early in the morning till late in the evening and you didn’t envy that fact.

Jim rolls over and away from you, arm underneath his head, still asleep. He makes a whiny sort of noise that makes you laugh lightly under your breath. You take a minute to admire his bare back (against your better judgement and morals), the plans of strong muscle and the little freckles and marks. You’re surprised to see scars, but then you supposed he grew up without the sort of medical care you found in Star Fleet which stopped most scars from occurring.

“James.” You try harder, hands pressing against warm skin and shaking him as you speak louder. If you’re late to the med bay then Leonard will have your hide, accidental marriage or not, and you’d feel bad if you just left Jim asleep without trying. You hate that you like the feeling of his warm skin, it makes you feel creepy even though you know it’s just a natural appreciation of being close to someone else.

“What…” You move away as he rolls back onto his back blinking up at you with tired blue eyes. He slowly sits himself up, a hand running through his already unruly hair as he finally comprehends that your sat there watching him in your pajamas.

“Hi…” You watch him look at the clock, frowning at the time before smiling over at you tiredly. There’s something uncomfortable domestic about the whole thing and yet you quite like it. You quite like not waking up to an empty bed and rather waking up warm and safe. Even if it’s with your Captain who you’ve had but a mere 5 or so conversations with.

“Hi, Moonbeam.”

“Are you going to call me that forever now?” You don’t dislike it, there’s something nice about him listening to you and making a name based upon that, but there’s also something strangely intimidate about it that you’re not quite prepared for.

“Unless you’d prefer ‘Wifey’?”

“Anything, but Wifey.” You think you can handle Moonbeam better than Wifey, even if he uses it in front of people. Wifey just continues to remind everyone that the Captain accidentally married the head nurse and that the two of you are now living in the same quarters. Moonbeam while somewhat cheesy at least could have been given to you by a friend and not a surprise husband.

Now he’s awake you leave him to whatever morning rituals he has, grabbing your uniform and having a brief shower. Even his shower was better than yours. The perks of being captain for sure. You’re pulling your regulation boots on when he finally gets out of bed, pajama trousers slung low over his hips. You do your best not to stare, concentrating a little too hard on the zipper of your boots.

“I’m going…I’ll be in the med bay if you need me, James.” You grab your communicator off the desk and look up at him briefly to say goodbye, he waves a hand at you too tired to hold a conversation and you leave.

It’s an uncomfortable sort of leaving, to leave someone else’s room, but it’s your room too now…but people look at you as if it wasn’t, they look at you as if you’d just had some fling with the captain, as if you’re walking down the corridor in yesterday’s clothes with your hair a mess. You try to ignore it as you take the turbo lift down to the level the med bay is on.

It’s obvious that everyone knows what happened; some make jokes as you walk past and others give you more respect than you’d ever received as if they thought you might set the captain on them like some sort of guard dog. You don’t like that the dynamic around you has changed. That you can’t walk down the corridor without people noticing you, now they all notice you because they know you’re the person who accidentally married the bloody captain.

You’re nearing the med bay when you pass an ensign who calls out to you, “Hi, Mrs Kirk.” It’s teasing and you don’t know the ensign making it more than a little uncomfortable but you choose to ignore it and the way Mrs. Kirk doesn’t sound that bad. You don’t need to start a fight before you get on your shift.

“If it isn’t Mrs James Tiberius Kirk!” You open the doors to the med bay being created by Leonard’s surprisingly chipper voice, usually he was grumpy and dower, but he seemed to revel in perhaps what he assumed was going to be your misery.

“Not you too, Leonard!” You ignored the glances of the other nurses and doctors and joined Leonard by an empty bed where he seemed to be going over some charts. You had been friends with Leonard since he became your CMO, even if he was a hard arse he was a good doctor and he’d sneak you bourbon if you were having a bad day.

“Hey, you were the one that drank from his cup and gave him a flower crown, not me, kid”

“I know…Never let me do anything on a strange planet without asking about marriage customs first.” You jumped up to sit on the bed, heaving a sigh. It was nice to be around someone else to talk about this. Spock was so clinical when tell you, you were legally married and Jim was in the same situation. But Leonard wasn’t. You could just speak.

“You couldn’t have known…so what are you and Jim doing about it? Word is you’re in his quarters now…” You figured some of the nurses saw you leaving earlier and probably scurried off to gossip. You didn’t blame them, part of what kept things interesting on a star ship was the gossip and the drama that unfolded because of it.

“We’re trying…we don’t hit the next federation outpost for weeks and we figured we try it out…” Take marriage for a test drive…you weren’t entirely sure what you were expecting from it. Were you waiting for it to fail to give you a legitimate reason to call it off or where you hoping it would go well and a commitment that was made on accident would become something more important, something more emotional?

“See if marriage suits you?”

“Sort of. It’s strange. Waking up with someone you barely know.” Nice, however, to wake up to someone else in the bed. A warm body, even if he drools in his sleep.

“Are you comfortable staying with him, kid? He’s not making you?” You scoff at the suggestion that Jim Kirk of all people would force you to stay in the safe bed let alone room as him. The man had some bizarrely strong sense of honour that dictated he had to treat you with the most ridiculous amount of care and respect. ‘I’ll take the sofa’, was still the most ridiculous statement you’d heard since being around him.

“Of course he’s not making me, Leonard…I agreed and I’m not uncomfortable, it’s just strange…different quarters, no longer a single person space…it’s all strange. For god’s sake the man’s married to me!” You still find it bizarre to think that you’re married. No ceremony you recognise, no rings, no nothing and in a way it doesn’t even feel real. But you know it is. That underlying anxiety surrounding it is always present reminding you that this is very much real and very much legal.

“I never thought I’d see the day James Kirk got married and yet you were both stupid enough to get married without realising it.”

“I hate you.” You knew you were never going to live down the fact you’d accidentally gotten married, whether a divorce was in your future or not. No one would ever forget that you went to Xaxia and accidentally got married. Who makes marriage about an alcoholic beverage and a flower crown anyway?!

“I’m just here to offer witty sarcasm and maybe some marital advice, like make sure you always have alcohol.”

“Wow, someone’s pessimistic.”

“Have you met my ex-wife?”

[youfoundme-inaconstellation-blog]

The Good Parts

The vase sat perched on the edge of Kirk’s nightstand, the water rippling with every small jolt of the ship. The petals stared at him, wilting as if to tell him that he was neglecting what they meant. What he needed to do.

The phone was right next to him, an old communicator programmed with all his old numbers. His mom was on the top of the speed dial, a picture of her with too bright a smile to be real and too tired of eyes to be happy reflected on the screen.

He’d been staring at that screen for hours, watching as the light in the room faded from artificial day to dusk. He should talk to her, call her. He’d never missed this day before, never refused to contact her. But somehow, in a Starfleet uniform, with medals lining his bedstand, with memories left over to haunt his nightmares and victories to chase them away when he woke up screaming, it felt different.

His mother had never wanted this life for him. She’d made sure of that when she packed her bags and her child up, returning to the cornfields of his youth to raise him with an abusive Father and a bottle of jack. She’d tell him stories of his dad on this day, the only time he’d ever seen her smile genuinely. The only time he’d ever seen her halfway to happy. But her stories always ended with a fading grin and broken, glazed eyes and a mumbled apology as she wiped away tears. They always ended with her looking at Jim, all 3 feet and scruffy blond hair of him, and telling him that that life was over and they’d never have to return, never should at least.

His room beeped, signaling someone at the door. He expected Bones, he was the only one Kirk had ever felt comfortable with this around, the only eyes he could look at without melting under the pity, or, even worse, the stories of his father’s accomplishment. 12 seconds, 800 people, a wife in labor, a ship in peril. But when Kirk gave the go-ahead for the door to slide on open he was surprised to see Spock’s form in the doorway, a pot of Vulcan tea in one hand.

Stoically, and without any words, Spock came around to sit at chair around the table by the bed Kirk was sitting on.

“Spock? I wasn’t expecting to see you here today,” Kirk nodded towards his first officer. The Vulcan shrugged, an oddly informal gesture for that man.

“I logically assumed you’d want some company.”

Kirk raised an eyebrow in surprise but didn’t comment as he came to sit across from Spock. His eyes were bright with knowledge, intelligence far beyond what Kirk would consider possessing sparking in his brain. Spock poured him a cup of the tea and Kirk thanked him, wrapping his hands around the warm beverage. It was different from the bourbon Bones usually brought, cold and wet with condensation on the side, but the warmth of the tea mimicked the burning of alcohol as it slid down his throat.

“It’s good, thank you,” Kirk hummed as he set it down, glancing up enough to catch the tail end of a smile from Spock.

“I’m glad it's satisfactory,” he paused, dipping his head, “Bones regretfully informed me of his status stuck on Earth. It seems the diplomat has contracted a rather nasty case of whooping cough. His condition is declining and they hope Bones may be able to aid his ailment.”

Kirk’s lungs felt like cement in the moment the news registered. No Bones, no bourbon, no advisement. But he quickly molded his face into resignment. “I see, well I hope the diplomat recovers.”

“As do we all,” Spock echoed. He met Kirk’s gaze then, the knowing brightness returning. His eyes flickered to the open communicator on the table, to the picture of Kirk’s mother’s unmistakable blonde hair, her famous eyes and curving grin.

“All is well with you, I presume?” The question was loaded, Kirk knew it, but something tight and winding against his heart began to unravel. Spock knew just how to control the situation, just how to talk in a way that had Kirk melting against his stress and babbling about whatever bothered him that day.

“Spock, I know you know what day it is.”

“Yes, Jim.” Jim, it was not a name Spock often addressed him as but the name made sparks climb his spine like a train stopping at the base of his neck and triggering a blush to crawl across his cheeks.

“I...” he paused, unsure if he should confide in Spock, but he was one of the few men that could relate to losing a loved one in the face of glory. His mom had perished just a little before, doing all she could to save the Vulcans she shared no biology with. “I can’t call my Mom. I’ve never had an issue before, even after  I ran away from home. But, now... she never wanted me here, in his shoes. I feel like I belong here. I don’t know if I can hear her despair and be proud still, face the bridge still.”

“Surely she’ll be proud,” Spock poured more tea into his rapidly draining cup, “Jim,” he tacked on as if it was an afterthought. He still wasn’t used to whatever it was that was growing between them like roots, like grounding.

He had his window in his room “up”, showing the real sky with all its stars rather than the presets they could choose. These stars had engulfed his father alive, snuffed out his life and shone on. But they never made him feel small or alone or useless. If anything they made pride bloom in the depths of his heart that hadn’t felt in a long long time.

“I don’t know if I can take that chance.”

“Do as you may, Jim. But remember how strong your Mother is. She took a child in the death of her husband and raised him to be a carbon copy.”

Carbon copy. Kirk smiled at that, yeah maybe.

He heard his cabin door shut before he’d even realized that Spock had left, the tea in his hands gone and the pot on the table considerably lighter.

The communicator felt foreign in his hand as he pressed call, his mother picking up in a sober voice.

“Jim! I hoped you’d call...”

[janeykath318]

Broken Shackles 13

Warning: This chapter is rather grim and discusses Jim’s history as a slave. Nothing graphic, but avoid if you need to. 

Jim was having a vid com with his new friend Bones the night before he left Vulcan. He'd spent almost five months there and it had done him a world of good giving him the peace and privacy he needed to heal.  Much as he hated to leave, (especially Spock), he was ready to move on with the next stage of remaking his life. "You ready to do this?" Bones asked. "It's quite a big culture change." "Yeah, Bones, I'm ready. Looking forward to furthering my education. Is Starfleet still ticked at me?" The doctor chuckled. "A little. Now the boneheaded Admirals that wouldn't listen to Pike are busy blaming each other for their lackluster policies that ended up with the son of a hero getting treated like a whore. Your testimony really struck a nerve." "Good." Jim clenched his jaw, feeling torn between irritation and satisfaction. He'd recently videotaped a testimony to aid in Pike's ongoing investigation into the trafficking issue and hadn't held anything back, deciding they didn't deserve to be spared the gory details.

                  ******** "For seven years, I was part of Lady Andromeda's household as her favored sexual "pet." Her husband spoiled her rotten and loved to watch when she had me in her bed. At first, I tried to fight it, but soon learned that only resulted in her trying crazy kinky stuff that was downright scary for a barely 16 year old. Not enjoying being trussed up from the ceiling, blindfolded and gagged, I just gave in the next time so it wouldn't be such a terrifying experience. As a result, I began to loathe my own body for responding the way it did."                       ********* Bones had seen it and called him with a grim expression to say how sickened he was and amazed at Jim's resilience and he'd support him in whatever he chose to do. He'd quit urging Jim to join Starfleet, but shamelessly shared how Pike, Barnett, Boyce and their associates were ready to knock some heads around. "I've never seen Chris on the verge of tears before, but during that video, it was obvious he was gettin' emotional. He really cares about you, Jim, and he hated what happened. Heck, I hate what happened." "You're a good man, Bones, and so is Chris. I'll make sure to keep you updated. Just getting that stuff off my chest has already helped."                               ******* "As a slave on the cattle farm of my second master, it was not uncommon for minor offenses like oversleeping or failing to complete the allotted tasks in time to be punished with 10-25 lashes with a whip. Major infractions, such as running away or stealing food were 30-50. I knew at least five slaves that died of starvation during my three years there."                    ******* "That's good, Jim. By the way, I met someone who says they knew you from your first enslavement. She got free a few years ago and joined up in Engineering. She keeps begging me to ask you if you'd be willing to talk sometime." "Oh, who is she?" Jim asked, wracking his brain for girls he'd met at Andromeda's. "Her name's Gaila, and she's a real fireball. So much energy, it’s dizzying. But maybe that's the pheromones, because she's an Orion." Jim couldn't believe his ears. "Gaila's still alive?? When she was sold to Lahnar I thought she was doomed!! I can't believe it!" Bones was grinning now. "Oh you bet she's still alive, all right. Very much so and she wants to talk to Jimmy, as she called you, as soon as possible." "Well," he said regretfully, "It may have to wait a few days until I'm settled down in my apartment on Betazed, but she's welcome to leave a message on my comm and I'll get back to her as soon as I can. Man, it's good to hear she got out of slavery, too." "Sure is," he agreed. "I'll let you go, now, Jim. Safe travels!" "Thanks Bones. I'll talk to you soon!" Jim looked around his little cool basement room after he'd signed off and thought how homey it had become to him in the last five months. He had little to pack, having arrived in nothing but his rags, and had gone shopping with Amanda for some respectable outfits (replicator clothes were somewhat flimsy). Jim had taken advantage of his inheritance for his schooling costs and was very thankful Pike had had charge of the trust rather than Frank. Still, even with all his purchases, he only needed one suitcase for his clothes, PADD, and other sundry necessities. "I don't know I can ever thank you enough," he told his hosts at dinner the night before he was to leave. "This is just the right sort of place I needed. You've all been so gracious to me, I feel like I'm leaving my family."                             ********* "As slaves, we had an unspoken support system built into protect each other and keep our spirits up. There was a young Andorian who got caught trying to escape and they were going to beat him. I asked if they could punish me instead because 40 lashes would kill him in the condition he was in. The overseer agreed I could take half, but he still had to punish Vrem. It hurt, but Vrem survived, so it was worth the bloody back. I remember we cleaned each other's wounds up afterward and he was so grateful. He asked me why I did it and I told him, "Because you're family."                    ******** Amanda's eyes were moist as she looked at Jim. "We're glad we could help, Jim and we very much consider you a part of our family so I'll be expecting a weekly update." "It is pleasing to see you recovering your health, James," added Sarek. "I wish you continued success in your studies and career. Our home is open to you should you choose to visit again." Spock said nothing, but her dark brown eyes were looking at him with more emotion than usual and she seemed to be very thoughtful. Afterward, he summed up the courage to ask her to come stargaze one last time and she agreed. Amanda gave them a curious look, but said nothing. "I'm going to miss this, Spock." Jim said at last, eyes fixed on the brilliantly starlit sky. "You will miss the stars?" She asked, turning to look at him. "The stars, the sand, the silence, I-Chaya." They smiled at each other at the mention of the fearsome looking pet that had scared Jim when he'd first arrived. The two had become friends and Jim was known to give the Sehlat rubs behind the ear that had him purring in contentment. "But, most of all the people: Your father and mother and most definitely you, Spock." Jim was having a hard time putting his feelings into words, but he gathered his courage up and went on. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to have a real relationship with my history, but you're the first woman I've met that made me wish I could. I....uh.....really like you, Spock." Good thing it was dark and she couldn't see his face flame at his awkward admission. She was probably repulsed, horrified, grossed out..... "You have feelings of a romantic nature for me?" Spock asked, looking at him intently. "Yes, I do." Jim confessed nervously. "I'm not trying to start something yet, because obviously it's a bad time, but I thought you should know so you could, maybe, think about the possibility?" "How logical of you, Jim. Yes, I will certainly give the matter thought. You are a very kind and intelligent man, despite all your trials and rather aesthetically pleasing as well." He thought he saw her mouth turn up in a smile. "Yes, you will be in my thoughts frequently, James." Well, he thought later as he waited for sleep to take him, there was hope for him, after all. It was nice to be able to feel real attraction again, especially for such an amazing person as Spock.              ********** "No matter how numb you get to the circumstances of your slavery, it leaves you with a deep self-loathing. I hated my own looks for making me so "desirable" to her and I hated her for being able to make me sound so pathetic and....and needy. As a labor slave, they never had to worry about me breaking the no fraternization rule, because by that point, I wasn't letting anyone touch me in any way that remotely reminded me of her and I stifled any hints of attraction I occasionally felt until I couldn't feel it anymore. How in the world can we in the Federation allow that cycle of turning people into objects, whether sexual or unpaid labor, to continue?"                  *********

[dramallamadingdang]

Oh, God! Question meme! A really long one! Run! Hide!

Tagged by @ajaysims. *points* It's his fault! His! Not mine! ;)

This is really long, since it's a synthesis of two of these questions memes and I have verbal diarrhea. So, I cut.

Name: Katrina

Nicknames: Most RL people other than my kids and grandkids call me Kat because one syllable is less than three. :) Simmers call me iCad because that's what I chose to call myself when I started participating in the community. Hubby calls me Kitten. Kids call me Ma, usually in exasperated/long-suffering tones. Grandkids call me Mimi because I hate the usual things that grandmothers are called because they're associated with old people. I may be old, but I'm not old, y'know? :)

Zodiac sign: Taurus, but astrology is still bullshit.

Height: A hair less than 6'0/about 182cm. And very underweight due to digestive/metabolic issues mostly because of a malfunctioning liver. (No, not from alcohol. From having had asymptomatic Hepatits C that I most likely got from a blood transfusion in the early 80s, before they screened donated blood for that. It sucks, y'all. Cherish your liver. Baby it. Seriously. Stop with the alcohol. Just stop. Do weed instead.)

Orientation: In experience/practice: A Kinsey 2. In terms of the kind of person who attracts me: People with IQs over 130. I really, truly don't care what you look like, what gender you identify as, or what sex organs you have or don't have. Smart is seriously sexy. So, I'm sapiosexual. :)

Ethnicity: Whitey-white-white, yay! :| Glow-in-the-dark white. I-start-burning-in-the-sun-in-30-seconds white. Damn-near-albino white. Also, mostly of Welsh descent. Only sort of half-second-generation American on one side; my paternal grandma was one of those horrible immigrants who took a job away from a Real American(TM). She was even a somewhat illegal one, for a few months. But she was white and British so I guess that's OK.

(Sorry, as a person married to a man whose mum -- who is awesome -- was born in Mexico and who came here legally with her family when she was 7 and is a citizen but she still gets shit these days because she’s “a Mexican,” I've sorta come to really hate the kind of people who tend to call themselves Real Americans(TM).)

Favorite fruit: Okra, especially when part of aloo bhindi masala, an Indian dish. Okra IS a fruit. Really. Look it up. Also, tomatoes.

Favorite season: Autumn, when everything is dying. MWAHAHAHAHAH!

Favorite book series: Still Sharon Kay Penman's "Welsh trilogy." Also, though not really a series, per se: The Star Trek novels that were published in the 80s. They got mostly stupid after that, but there were some gems that were published in the mid-80s, before The Next Generation was a thing.

Favorite flower: Calla lilies. Usually used in funeral arrangements, along with Easter lilies, yay. Flowers of death! MWAHAHAH!

Favorite scent: Lilacs. Lavender. Honeysuckle. And this "rain" scent scented candle. It's so clean and fresh and not-perfumey, yet it manages to drown out the brine smell that eventually permeates everything when you live close to the shore...

Favorite color: Greens. All shades, although I prefer the yellower shades, especially the darker ones like army green. Also, orange.

Favorite animal: The spotted hyena, but I already extolled their many virtues the last time I did this list, so I'll refrain. Also, elephants.

Coffee, tea, or hot cocoa: Hell no, maybe, and yes please (if it's vegan), respectively.

Average sleep hours: Sleep? What is this word? *just came off a 38-hour work "day" a few hours ago, and I'm too wired to sleep.* YAY SHOWBIZ! :| But generally, when life isn't crazy, usually about 6 hours per 24 hour period. And I'm nocturnal, so those six hours are usually between about 0900 and about 1500. :)

Cat or dog person: Both person. And llama person. And alpaca person. And horse person. And snake person. And spider person.

Favorite fictional characters: Spock. (Well, actually, pretty much the entire original Star Trek crew except, well, Kirk. Whom I hate. With a passion. I really like Abrams-Kirk, though. Oddly enough. So it might just be that I can't stand Shatner...) The Cardassian characters from Star Trek: DS9, but especially Garak. Also, Julian Bashir and Miles O'Brien from DS9. Jack O'Neill and Rodney McKay from the Stargate franchise. KITT from the original Knight Rider. And Jayne Cobb from Firefly. (Hi, @eulaliasims!)

Number of blankets you sleep with: I'm in SoCal at the moment. No blankets because I tend to sleep in the warm part of the day. And when I do sleep at night, there's a furnace-like husband and a large, furnace-like dog in the bed with me. Blankets would be overkill.

Dream trip: Still Antarctica. Or space. But Antarctica is more likely at this point. ;)

Blog created: I think it was December of 2013. Maybe November. Ahhhh, those halcyon pre-2016 years...

Number of followers: Right now? 1443. It might change in an hour or so.

Time right now: About 0220 Pacific Time, Wednesday, March 22. One month and one day until my birthday. I expect presents, people! (Nah, I kid. Birthdays after 50 don't mean much. Hell, birthdays after 18 -- or 21, nowadays, I guess -- don't mean much. :) )

Last thing you googled: I was looking for some textures to use for some recolors I'm working on during downtimes at work.

Fave music artist: In terms of non-classical stuff: Queen, always and forever. But I also really like the Barenaked Ladies and other such alternative groups from the 90s as well as 80s New Wave stuff. Also, Metallica. In terms of "classical" stuff: Beethoven, always and forever.

Song stuck in my head: Beethoven's 8th piano sonata, 3rd movement. I was playing it at work today...on my cello. I'm working on arranging the entire sonata for solo cello...starting with the 3rd movement because I do better working on things backward. (Since I'd be willing to bet most people don't know the tune off the top of their head, here's Dubravka Tomsic playing it on youtube, if you're curious.

Last movie I watched: Star Trek Beyond. I liked it better than Into Darkness but not as well as the first Abrams-verse one...

Last TV show I watched: I have Stargate Atlantis paused on my computer screen at the moment. I plan to work on furnishing/decorating the house I put up for download tonight when I'm done with this, and I usually have a TV show playing while I build/decorate stuff in my game. :)

What I’m wearing right now: A pair of black sweatpants and a Telluride Daily Planet T-shirt. (That's the local newspaper at home. :) ) Boring white underwear. My fleece-lined moccasins because my feet are always cold.

The kind of stuff I post: Sims stuff, duh! At least on this blog. :) The other blog has the ranty/political stuff.

Why did I choose my url: Because I like to point and laugh at silly internet drama and because I own llamas, and I added dingdang because dramallama was taken and because of this song.

Gender: According to every one of those silly "What Gender Are You?" online quizzes, I am male, mainly because I'm a self-confident, argumentative, assertive, non-empathetic asshole who doesn't do "feelings." Yet, I have girl plumbing. Go figure. Meh, it's all just social conditioning and expectations, anyway, so...I rebel. I reject gender labeling and their associated roles.

Hogwarts house: I took a quiz once and it said Gryffindor. I've never read Harry Potter or seen any of the movies except one of them during an airplane flight...and I fell asleep during it, so...Yeah, I don't know what it means to be Gryffindor. Don't much care, either.

Pokémon team: Don't know anything about Pokemon, either.

Lucky number: 13 because I am anti-superstition. (Well, except when it comes to white pianos, of course, but I have hard evidence that they are evil, so it’s not superstition. ;) ) Or 42. Take your pick.

Dream job: I once said "Not having one" but then followed it up with "but that's boring." So, I decided to take on some work through June. And you know what? I'm gonna go back to "Not having one." I just need to find some volunteer work to keep me occupied for a few hours a day. Not for 38-hour "days," though. :p

Relationship status: I is married to my second husband. He's cute. And a lot younger than me, woooooooo! First marriage wasn't nearly so fun, though. The only good thing that came of it was my kids.

Pets: Oh, God. Most of them are back home in Colorado (where I have a 39-acre ranch) while I'm here in California, but:

A herd of llamas and alpacas, about 50 total at the moment, but "unpacking" season is approaching, so that number will be going up to about 65 soon. 5 horses 2 nanny goats...which actually belong to a neighbor but they're currently housed on my property, so...they count! 8 dogs 5 cats...although sadly that will probably be going down to four soon because the 18-year-old whose had health problems all her life is currently quite sick and likely won't be getting better. :( Also, there are a ton of barn cats, but they don't really count as pets. A flock of chickens. 1 rooster, the rest hens. 1 California kingsnake 5 tarantulas, various species 8 dragonfly nymphs. I think 2 will become dragonflies this year because I've had them for a few years now...

Last song you listened to: Beethoven's 5th piano concerto, for somewhat sentimental reasons.

Favorite TV Show: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. I love the original series a lot, too, but DS9 surpassed it in my book.

First Fandom: Star Trek, of course. I remember declaring that I would marry Spock when I grew up. I was 3 at the time, in 1967, watching the episode "Amok Time" (in which Spock almost gets married) in its original run. We'd only just gotten a color TV a few months before, so it was REALLY COOL. I also wrote a crapton of fanfic in the 70s/80s and a bit in the 90s. Even published a 'zine in the 80s. It was expensive as hell back then but SO MUCH FUN!

Randomly Tagging People I Don’t Think I’ve Tagged For This Thing Before: @randommindtime (It's what you get for following me!), @yandereplumsim, @elfpuddle, @halousims, @nuttydazesublime, and @kayleigh-83. As always, feel free to ignore for whatever reason. :)

[ossyuche]

Is Evan Marc Katz’s Marriage Sad and Uninspiring?

I’m well-aware that criticism comes with the territory of writing for the internet. The fact that there are 130,000 comments on my blog should be a decent indicator of how much dissent I allow (pretty much everything except personal insults). I also know that it would be impossible for any reader to have a full understanding of my marriage; it’s all mediated through blog posts, videos, etc. But since I use my marriage as an example of the kind of marriage I wish for you to have, I believe it’s fair for you to want to know whether I’m some sort of bullshit artist or a guy who actually walks his own walk.

And while  I haven’t done this for a long time, an individual comment on this recent blog post just rubbed me the wrong way. Since I couldn’t shake the feeling, I figured this would be a great opportunity to explain myself to anyone who may have the same perceptions as this reader about me and my “uninspiring” marriage.

And, by “explain myself,” I mean, I brought in my wife to directly address each of the partially-true, partially misguided claims below. She’s more diplomatic than I am but I do love that she comes out swinging.

“V” writes:

“I fear I must say what many other women are afraid to say and it’s that you don’t come off as good husband material initially either. I think you can not see this about yourself and only see what a super great catch you are.

– You spoke about how you had about 300 dates in 10 years; sorry but according to the math that’s only about 2 dates a month; low numbers. I bring that up because

– You said you Never had a relationship last longer than 6 months. Over 300 dates in 10 years and not one single long-term girlfriend? Being over 35 years old did you suddenly learn to “compromise” because sudden maturity or a fear of growing old and alone? What woman wants to be chosen for that reason?

– You said that you broke up with your wife (then girlfriend) because you didn’t feel strong desire (chemistry) for her. A week before you asked her to marry you. What woman wants a man that married her because he chose logic and not love?

– You’ve admitted that you actually envied your friends when you were dating your wife because you wanted to feel strongly and passionately about her like they did with their girlfriends. Again what woman doesn’t want to be seen emotionally not just logically desirable in her boyfriend’s eyes?

– Lori  Gottlieb insulted (in my opinion) your then girlfriend (now wife) to your face by calling her looks unimpressive and saying she’s seen you date more attractive women. You didn’t get upset, you didn’t get angry, according to you-you weren’t bothered by it. Why? Because your decision to marry your wife was based off logic. What woman doesn’t want her man to defend her before his friends?

– Your wife tells the story of giving you a Mulligan after hearing you say “another woman is the sexiest woman you’ve ever seen.” Yes we all know other women are prettier or thinner than us, but it doesn’t mean we want to hear our boyfriends tell us out loud.

Because you chose logic over chasing emotions you founded the “don’t chase chemistry” philosophy of “7 in looks 10 in compatibility” which we all benefit from and are thankful for. And you just commented recently that over time you fallen deeply in love with your wife which is beautiful.

However just like you want us to understand that your stories were meant to inspire us and NOT insult your wife, I hope you can understand that it’s not easy for us to be as logical in relationships as you.”

My wife responds:

“She’s somewhat misstating facts here.

Evan went on 300 dates in ten years but had a series of girlfriends over that time that ranged between one month and eight months. And if Evan was in relationships for 3+ years out of the 10, that’s going on about one date per week, which is exactly what he recommends to other women. I don’t see what’s wrong with that.

Every second you’re with the wrong person, you’re not looking for the right person.

Next, she talks about Evan choosing me logically as if there was no emotion behind it. That’s ridiculous. Evan’s the most emotional guy ever – crying when he proposed, crying through our wedding vows, crying at his retreats. Similarly, if she’s read all Evan’s stuff (and it sounds like she has) she would know that his philosophy is that every second you’re with the wrong person, you’re not looking for the right person. Evan always wanted to get married and, unlike anyone I know, he never wasted his time or the time of any of his girlfriends.

Finally, doesn’t she know that marriage has a LOT to do with timing? I wouldn’t have been open to dating Evan when I was 30. He wouldn’t have been open to me either. But when I was 37 and he was 34, we were ready for each other. That wasn’t about fear of growing old alone for either of us. It was about finding a relationship that finally felt good – and would continue to feel good as our lives progressed.

I don’t know where she got the idea that Evan broke up with me before we got married. He  expressed fears and reservations that he wasn’t sure what he was going to do, and good for him. At least he was honest about his confusion. A lot of women are honest about their boyfriend’s long-term potential. They’re concerned about his career. They’re concerned about his communication skills. They’re concerned about his drinking or his failure to take care of his body. Any woman would agree her girlfriend has every right to encourage her boyfriend to get his career on track or push him to eat healthier. So it’s okay for women to express concerns about their boyfriends but it’s not okay for men to express concerns about their girlfriends?That’s a big disconnect for me. No, I didn’t love it when Evan admitted he wasn’t sure what to do before proposing to me. But I FAR prefer it to being blindsided. My first husband had reservations about marriage and kids but didn’t tell me until one year AFTER we got married. He wrestled with all this stuff internally and then blew up our marriage – all because he couldn’t do what Evan does naturally – be honest.

Next, in regards to the Lori Gottlieb thing: Whatever. What I knew at the time – and still know – is that Lori’s not married and hasn’t figured out the important stuff. So why should I worry that she thinks I’m average? From what I recall from ten years ago, Evan wrote an angry email to Lori before the book came out and Lori emailed to apologize but who cares? Yeah, Evan dated more impressive women before he met me. Who did he marry? That’s all you need to know.

Our feelings were even — and while “logical” sounds decidedly unsexy, we both took into account how great the relationship felt, especially in comparison to our previous relationships.

This woman places way too much on her perception that Evan was operating under some sort of Spock-like logic. He wasn’t. He uses logic to explain his emotions to his readers. Contrary to what you may believe, we weren’t that couple with the power imbalance where one person was way more into the other. We had butterflies without anxiety. We didn’t worry if we were apart for a few days. We both knew this was a good relationship. Our feelings were even – and while “logical” sounds decidedly unsexy, we both took into account how great the relationship felt, especially in comparison to our previous relationships. As far as the claim that Evan was envious of a friend who had more passion… he was – at the time. That relationship ended in a bitter divorce after three years. Ours has been going strong for twelve years. That’s the very reason Evan cautions against blind passion.

I once had a boyfriend – Dan – who was like Evan’s sexiest girlfriend, Erin. I always felt unsettled with Dan, like he was maybe going to cheat on me, which, ultimately, he did. Just because someone is the most physically attractive person in your past doesn’t mean that person makes for the best mate. And if I can feel that way about Dan, why can’t he feel that way about Erin? Do you think we should lie or keep secrets because our relationship is too fragile to tell the truth about the past?

As to why I’m okay with Evan writing about all of this publicly? I’m secure. Evan only says what other men would like to say if they were allowed to be honest with their wives (which they’re not). Evan is allowed to be honest with me because I once married a guy who withheld his feelings and I didn’t like it. I allow and encourage him to tell these stories on his blog and in his programs because it’s his JOB and it’s for the greater good of the world. Evan’s whole purpose is to help others experience what we’ve experienced and if people still can’t understand that or want to try to tear it down, I don’t know what else to say.

I appreciate my wife taking time to respond to this blog post and I hope you do, too. I accept that part of my job is to engage with readers and address criticism where appropriate. My wife didn’t sign up for this job though, which is why I think it’s very gracious of her to directly address your perceptions of us as a couple.

In case it’s not 100% clear.  I didn’t settle on a wife who wasn’t my original ideal. My wife didn’t settle on a husband who chose her with pure logic. We both compromised on the right things and consider ourselves very lucky to still be going strong twelve years and two kids later. Your comments below, are greatly appreciated.

  The post Is Evan Marc Katz’s Marriage Sad and Uninspiring? appeared first on Dating Coach – Evan Marc Katz | Understand Men. Find Love..

Related posts:

The Blind Spot In Rori Raye’s Circular Dating

My Boyfriend Doesn’t Want to Get Married. How Can I Convince Him Otherwise?

Dateonomics by Jon Birger — Book Review by Evan Marc Katz

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[beatrice-otter]

Fic: House-building

Title: House-building Fandom: Star Trek AOS Characters: Original Female Characters, Author: beatrice_otter Rating: kid Length: Summary: When choosing a spouse, there are many things to consider. Sequel to: The Desert Between Nyota's Choice At AO3 "They're messing with us, aren't they?" Nyota said after reading the document.

"Given the low percentage of women who remain unmarried and the small total numbers of Keshta'shivau's population—" Spock said, but he didn't sound very certain.  More like what he really meant was 'yes, but in a way that gives them plausible deniability.'

"They're totally messing with us," Nyota said.  When they'd gotten the news that Enterprise would be close enough to Keshta'shivau, the new Vulcan homeworld, for them to take leave there, and contacted Lady V'Lar, Spock's Eldest Mother, they had been given detailed dossiers on eight women.  All of the prospective brides were of above-average in intelligence, accomplishments, and clan connections.  Most of whom had been beautiful.  When none of them had worked out, they had been given another four, almost equally prestigious.  When none of the second batch remained in consideration, they had been given one name.  Of a woman who was, from her dossier, the most perfectly average Vulcan alive.  "Would it have been an insult to the House of Surak to suggest someone below-average in any way?"

Spock considered.  "Prior to the Destruction, merely suggesting an average person would have been considered an insult," he said.  "Given the reduction in population and therefore choice—and given how late we have left it—it is difficult to say."

"In other words, they may think they're being insulting by suggesting her," Nyota said, waving the PADD around.  "But there's just enough camouflage they can't be called on it."

"It is quite likely," Spock admitted.

"Well, at least she probably hasn't remained unmarried this long because she wants your clan connections," Nyota said.  Two of those they'd rejected had done that.

"I see nothing objectionable about her," Spock said.  Of course, the same had been true—on paper—with most of the women who had been suggested up to this point.

"She's a singer," Nyota said.  "I like that."

"I will arrange an in-person meeting," Spock said.

***

Sevakis was deep in a meditative trance when the message came through.  She had, in the four years since the Devastation, recorded everything she could consciously remember about her clan's history, heritage, lore, language, customs, domains, politics, allegiances, fashions, and personalities, but there was a limit to what the mind could consciously recall.  Now she spent her limited free time seeking what fragments her unconscious mind might yet have stored.  It was time-consuming and largely fruitless, but there was nothing of greater importance to fill her resting hours.

It was late when she roused herself, having found nothing new that evening.  She had been tempted to stay in the trance all night.  But while meditation might take the place of sleep for some time, it could not completely replace it, and it would be self-indulgent in the extreme to allow her work to suffer while she pursued the ghosts of her psyche.  She opened her eyes to the same sight that had greeted her after every such occasion.  A room, small but adequate, with everything she required and nothing she wanted, for anything she could want was dead.  One room in a dormitory filled with similar rooms, all filled with strangers thus bereft.

She checked her messages before readying herself for bed, and saw that there had been a message from Lady T'Lauw, requesting a meeting at her earliest convenience.  Sevakis attached her calendar for the next week, highlighting times in between practices, classes, and lessons that would be best, noting which appointments Sevakis could skip or move if T'Lauw required it.  Then she firmly put the matter from her mind (although it didn't quite stay out) and went to bed.

***

When she woke, T'Lauw had replied.  Sevakis would need to find someone to cover her third class of the day.  She did not regret that; teaching classes in the theory and history of Vulcan music was her least favorite duty.  But she was curious as to the urgency of the matter.   Given that there were only a few reasons for T'Lauw to summon her, the haste was … suggestive.

At the theater complex, she found Toval in one of the practice rooms, readying himself for a lesson.

"Will you be able to cover my History of Music class?" Sevakis asked him.  "We are covering the S'Heikla Period."

Toval inclined his head graciously.  "Of course," he said.  "Is anything amiss?"

"Lady T'Lauw has summoned me," Sevakis said, studying her friend.  He was tall and stocky, with the effeminate features and resonant voice typical of his kind, and she knew him to be intelligent, witty, and very well suited to her.  If he were not a chi`pah, they would probably have married, after her betrothed and his wife died in the Devastation.  Though, if he were not a chi`pah, they probably would never have met as they would not have sung together, and he would probably have been on Vulcan when Nero came instead of touring with their company.

"With such urgency?" Toval asked, raising an eyebrow.  "Is there one in dire need?"

Sevakis sighed.  "She did not see fit to share anything with me besides an urgent need for my presence."  If there was a man going into pon farr, whom they hoped she would marry, it would require at least a week off from her normal duties, if one included recovery time.  More, if one included time necessary to make arrangements with her new husband for things like living space.

"If there is such a one, the forewarning to clear your schedule would be … beneficial," Toval said.

"Indeed it would," Sevakis said.  Her own Eldest Mother—before the Devastation, when she had <em>had</em> a true Eldest Mother, and not merely an elderly woman of a foreign clan who had contracted with many newfound orphans to fill that role until the time, some decades hence, when they might have one of their own.  Her own Eldest Mother, a distant cousin four generations removed, would have given her that courtesy.  Then again, her own Eldest Mother had known her all her life, and her parents all their lives, and so on.  There was a level of trust and familiarity that it was illogical to resent the lack of with a woman Sevakis had only met in person four times.

Being illogical, however, did not make it untrue.  It merely made the resentment a burden for Sevakis to subdue.

"Have you reached any conclusions as to your own future decisions?" Sevakis asked.  It was indelicate of her, but with her own future thus abruptly in motion, she desired to know.

Toval sighed.  "I am in no rush.  They can create gametes for me at any time, and surrogates will always be available."  Chi`pain were those whose males whose voices as children were deemed so extraordinary that their gonads were surgically removed just prior to puberty, so that their unchanged voices might be preserved as they aged.  They did not typically reproduce, and when they did (as all Vulcans now must, for the preservation of their species), required medical help. "It would be better, I think, to wait until the settlements on this world are more … established."  He hesitated.  "And … I find my grief still … I do not trust myself, yet, to be fully attentive as a child requires.  Particularly alone."

"A logical decision," Sevakis said.  She would not be alone, of course, not as he was.  She could offer no reciprocation, for she could have no plans until she knew whom she would marry.  In all probability, it would not be long even if T'Lauw did not have a match for her at this time.  Over sixty percent of the other surviving Vulcan women had already married, and the remainder, herself included, were fast approaching that state.

But she needed to prepare for her first class of the day.  She left her friend sitting at the ka'athyra, waiting for his pupil.

***

At the appointed time, Sevakis approached the house T'Lauw lived in.  It was large, for Keshta'shivau; on Vulcan, it would have been a minor building, too small for a House or Clan.  But it was illogical to build residences of the size that they would eventually need, when it would be some generations before there would be people to fill them.

Sevakis paused to take an inventory of herself before she knocked on the door.  Her mind was fairly calm, and her shields were solid; her clothes and hair were neat and presentable and befitting her station.  There was nothing else to be done.

She was shown into the antechamber and asked to wait for a few minutes.  The room was still sparsely decorated, but a mural had been sketched in on one wall.  Sevakis did not recognize the subject; it undoubtedly related to T'Lauw 's clan's history.

There was no telling how long it might be before she was called; while the business itself might be urgent, Sevakis was hardly the greatest of T'Lauw 's concerns.  Not of her clan, nor of any clan allied to her clan before the Destruction; one woman, of no particular importance.  T'Lauw, on the other hand, was one of only four Eldest Mothers left.  She was a very busy woman, even by the standards of Keshta'shivau, on which there were few people who were not doing what would have been, on Vulcan, the work of at least three people.

The wait was not long.  Sevakis was shown in to T'Lauw 's office and given a glass of juice, which she sipped at politely.

T'Lauw was a short, plump woman, her graying hair sleekly slept up in an elegant and traditional style that added at least ten centimeters to her height.  She waited for Sevakis to take her first sip and then said, briskly, "You are being considered as a prospective bride for the son of the House of Surak, Spock son of Sarek son of Skon."

Sevakis almost dropped her glass in shock.  "He is not already married?"  The House of Surak was the greatest and most prestigious House of all, and not merely for its ancient history.  T'Pau, the hero of the Second Reformation, had been its Eldest Mother.  If Spock's bondmate had died with Vulcan, surely the surviving Eldest Mothers would have seen Spock's re-marriage as a priority.  He should have bonded long since.

T'Lauw gave Sevakis a withering glance for asking the obvious question.  "He has been quite busy with his Starfleet career, and there are … complications," she said, answering the question Sevakis should have asked, which was why T'Pau's only surviving great-grandson remained unmarried.  "Spock has a paramour, a Human woman he serves with.  She does not wish to leave Starfleet and settle on Vulcan.  He did not wish to marry a Vulcan while there was still a chance she would choose the Vulcan way, as his mother did."

"You speak in the present tense," Sevakis observed.  "The relationship will be continuing?"

"Yes," T'Lauw said.  "Now that they have made their decision, they wish to have him marry as soon as may be practical.  Their ship is in the vicinity, and they are here on shore leave for the next eleven days; after that, Spock will likely not return to Vulcan for another 1.8 years."

By which time, the pool of unmarried Vulcan women would be much smaller.  "May I ask why I am being considered?"  Sevakis was a woman of average intelligence, average genotype, and average phenotype, from an insignificant clan in a backwater area.  The only noteworthy thing about her was her voice, which, since she did not come from a family noted for its musical talents, might not breed true.  Even now, after several years of remarriages, there had to be many single women more worthy of marrying one of the House of Surak than she.  As for common interests, she had never been interested in science or space exploration.

"Spock has found several of the women suggested to him … unsuitable," T'Lauw said.  "Others objected to the Human paramour.  You have travelled extensively throughout the Federation in the course of your career, and have experience with Humans."

Sevakis considered this.  It could not be the entire answer; she had mostly toured as part of a company, and so spent most of her time offworld with other Vulcans.  She had, on two occasions, been part of a Human production, and had not found it onerous, but had formed no lasting acquaintance among them.  There were many Humans on Keshta'shivau, to help with the rebuilding and fill critical roles, and those who had survived the Devastation were mostly those who had been offworld at the time of Nero's attack.  Her experience with Humans was neither extensive nor unique.

Which led to the critical question.  It was an honor to be considered for the spouse of one of Surak's House, but was that worth sharing her home with a Human?  Even if the paramour in question spent most of her time in space, Sevakis' home would be the Human's home base.  Humans were … loud.  Their rampant emotionalism was annoying and occasionally difficult when she had private, Human-free quarters to retreat into; Sevakis was not sure she wished to share a home with one.  Especially a home which would, of necessity, be smaller than the sprawling clansteads of Vulcan.

Still.  Generalities could be true and useful for dealing with groups; they were utterly inadequate when dealing with individuals.  There was no point in making a decision without even meeting the Human in question.  "When are we to meet?" she asked.

"You are not required at this evening's rehearsal," T'Lauw said.

That was not quite the case; her part was required, but there were others who could cover for her, and the session would be recorded so that she could know what had been done.  Sevakis held her silence.  It was clear that T'Lauw valued neither her time nor her work, but as she was (technically) Sevakis' Eldest Mother, it was not Sevakis' place to say otherwise.

"I will have Spock's dossier sent to you, along with his address," T'Lauw said, making a gesture to dismiss her and picking up a padd.

"And does his paramour have a dossier?" Sevakis asked.  If she was the sticking point, it would be logical to include information about her.

"I am sure you can get her public file from Starfleet," T'Lauw said, not looking up.

Sevakis pressed her lips together, but required herself to bow with the proper respect, even if T'Lauw couldn't see it.

***

This Sevakis was punctual, but then one expected that in a Vulcan.  She appeared at the meeting room Spock's Eldest Mother had arranged for them at precisely the appointed time.  Unlike the other women they had seen, she was not accompanied by an Eldest Mother or other matron, but came alone.  Nyota would have to ask Spock what the significance of that was, if it was a class difference or something else.

Spock offered her juice, and once the ritual of greeting was completed, they sat.  There were four chairs.  (The first woman they'd met with, she and Spock had made the mistake of thinking that V'Lar would take Nyota into account in the arrangements.  She had not.  There had been three chairs: one for Spock, one for his prospective bride, one for her chaperone, and no place for Nyota.  They had had to wait while another chair was procured, and the disapproval had been palpable.  Both for the wait, and that Nyota expected to be present.)

"Sevakis, thank you for coming on such short notice," Nyota said.  She didn't smile, as she might have with a Human, but the words were most definitely a Human greeting ritual, and not a Vulcan one.

"You are welcome," Sevakis said.

At that, Nyota did smile.  One the previous women had been discounted because, at Nyota's greeting, she had launched into a lecture on proper Vulcan forms of communication and why it would be important to eliminate any deviation from them.  "I hope it was not too disruptive to your schedule."

Sevakis considered this.  "There are few times that would not have been.  Even my so-called open periods are filled with grading and planning.  Especially given the short timeframe available.  Did you choose this particular time slot?"

Spock shook his head.  "No.  Given that we are on leave, the matching process is our only obligation at the moment."

"Then it was Lady T'Lauw who set it.  I would have chosen differently, but she did not consult me."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Nyota said.  "I have a question, though—can't the computer grade for you?  I wouldn't imagine that, as a musician, you assign many essays."

"There are some, in my history of music class," Sevakis said.  "As for my composition class, the computer can grade how closely they followed the rules of the style they are learning, but it cannot assess artistic merit."

"Oh, of course," Nyota said.  "I love to sing, myself, though obviously it is only a hobby, and Spock is also musical."

"Is that, then, a particular desire of yours?" Sevakis asked Spock.  "A musical wife?"

"No," Spock said.  "Or rather, if I were to list off every quality of my ideal spouse, it would be there; but there are many qualities I value above it.  Only some of which are essential."

"May I enquire as to which ones?  I am told that you have rejected several potential matches," Sevakis said.  She glanced back to Nyota.  "Or that you have.  Would it not be logical to tell the Eldest Mothers, so that they may factor them in?"

"We have," Nyota said.  "Believe me, we have.  Some of it … I don't know whether they just aren't listening, or if they don't understand, or if there genuinely aren't any Vulcan women who fit.  And then of course there are some who sound good on paper but just don't work in person.  And then there was one who was just perfect, but chose someone else at the last minute."  She and V'Ryla had gotten along excellently, but then V'Ryla's friend had gone into pon farr unexpectedly and not found a mate, and Nyota couldn't blame her for choosing him over Spock.

She shook her head.  "Anyway.  We want someone who accepts that I'm going to be part of this family, and that Spock himself is half-Human, and that while our kids are going to be raised Vulcan, they're also going to have at least some Human heritage along with it.  Someone we can work with."

"And someone who is aware of the … prejudices and barriers that hybrids face in Vulcan society," Spock said carefully.  "I have experienced them myself, and while the high number of exogamous marriages will create a large number of hybrid children in the next generation, I still have … concerns.  There were several things that were handled poorly, by the adults around me, and I do not wish my own children to suffer from them as well.  In some cases it was not done out of malice, but it was still … less than optimal."

Nyota's lips tightened.  In most cases, it had been done out of malice.  And that was one of the many things she'd had to wrestle with, over the years since Spock had first set her down and explained what he needed, and what her choices were.  Could she take the chance, that her children would go through the same things he had?  She'd made her choices, and here they were.

Sevakis waited after he spoke, glancing back and forth between them when it was clear they were both finished.  "In other words, you want someone who will work with you as you are, protect your children from possible threats, and raise them in the manner you wish them to be raised.  These do not seem to be unrealistic expectations.  In fact, they seem to be the most minimum requirements for a functional family unit."

"Absolutely," Nyota said.  That was promising.  That was very promising.  "You can see why I'm not about to lower my expectations."

"Have you been asked to?" Sevakis asked.

"Not directly," Spock said.

Sevakis pressed her lips together, taking in the implications of this.  "And there it is.  The reason why I was selected.  And given such a bare minimum of courtesy, information, and time to prepare.  They hope you will reject me, or perhaps I you, and then perhaps you will look more favorably on one of the women they have already suggested."

"Or others like them," Nyota said.  "But I really don't give a damn about clan connections, and they're not that important for Spock either.  As to intelligence and accomplishments, I think compassion and acceptance are far more important to a relationship.  We're not picking an employee, we're picking a wife.  And the mother of our kids."

"Are you, then, seriously considering me as a prospective spouse?" she asked Spock.  "Or am I merely someone to get through before returning to the better candidates?"

"You have already shown yourself more suitable than most of the others my Eldest Mother has provided," Spock said.

"I agree," Nyota said.  "And while I'm not going to make life-changing decisions based on what would make the old bats unhappy, I have to admit it doesn't hurt to know they'd fume if we actually chose you."

Sevakis blinked.  "We have no relation to Terran winged mammals—"

"Sorry," Nyota said.  "It's a colloquial term for an annoying and unpleasant older woman."

"I feel that I should defend the honor of the institution of matriarch," Sevakis said, "and yet I find I cannot disagree with you.  With only four left, acting for many thousands of now-clanless people they scarcely know, they have grown manipulative and callous in their decisions."  She thought for a bit.  "I would also agree that while discommoding them is not a primary factor in my decision-making process, nor even a secondary one, the idea does bring an unworthy amount of satisfaction."

"There you have it, then," Nyota said, pleased.  They were getting along quite well—they might become friends, which would be a benefit.

"May I enquire as to your own criteria?" Spock asked.

Sevakis thought it over before responding.  "Someone I would not regret as a companion for the rest of my life," she said.  "Someone I can live comfortably with—especially while the children are young, residing together in the same household is far preferable.  I miss being part of a larger household.  The hostel for unmarried people is not the same.  I am quite content with finding external sources of companionship and support, but the household should be comfortable."

"But you must have some hopes," Nyota said.  "Even if it's unrealistic."

"If I were choosing solely on my own preferences, I would choose Toval," Sevakis said.  "He is the closest friend I have alive, and he is just as alone as I am.  But he is chi`pain, and I am not selfish enough to remove myself form the pool of those who will most have need of a wife."

"Chi`pain," Nyota said.  She'd learned some about them in basic Vulcan grammar; Vulcan had multiple gender pronoun systems, the more esoteric of which didn't translate well into Standard.  "They're the male singers who are castrated right before puberty so their voices will not change, right?  I guess that means they don't burn?"

"You are correct," Sevakis said.

Nyota wondered how that worked, if they were married to women who did go through pon farr, but that would be taking prurient curiosity a step too far.  "Are you in love with him?"

"Vulcans do not—"

"I, of all people, know that Vulcans do in fact fall in love," Nyota said.  "It's not just Spock, because he's half-Human, either; he wouldn't exist if Vulcans didn't fall in love.  And I understand that the culture is different, that you don't consider it a primary consideration in marriage.  Or even a secondary consideration.  Or any kind of consideration at all, really.  I'm certainly not saying that if you are in love with Toval—or anyone else—that it would be an impediment here if you honestly don't consider it to be one.  But I would like to know."

Sevakis studied her for a few moments.  "As I understand the term, no, I am not 'in love' with Toval, or anyone else.  Nor have I ever been."

"Thank you for your honesty."  It sounded a bit bleak, to Nyota, but it was obvious Sevakis didn't find it so.

Spock redirected the conversation.  "What reservations do you have about this particular prospective match?"

"Humans are very … loud," Sevakis said promptly.  "Physically, vocally, and mentally.  In every way possible.  It is wearing, and I do not care for it.  While you are gone, it will not be an issue; but when you are on Vulcan, I will require some consideration.  Expecting you to follow every Vulcan norm in your own home would be unreasonable, but a compromise would not be.  And I would need spaces where I do not have to guard against the possibility of Lieutenant Uhura's presence."

"Quite reasonable, and easily done," Spock said, nodding.

"Children are loud," Nyota said.  "What will you do about that?"

"It is the nature of children to be loud," Sevakis said.  "But they do grow out of it.  At least, Vulcan children do.  And even when they are very young, there are respite carers available.  When they are older, there is school."  She paused, considering.  "I do not dislike children, but neither do I have any particular attraction to them.  But it is my duty, now, to bear children, or else my House—and, indeed, my whole clan—will be forever extinguished.  I have helped care for children before, it was a standard chore for adolescents and young adults in my clan.  I know I can do it competently, even though I do not find it fulfilling, as some do.  In any case, some things may be avoided, and others may not be.  The noise of children is of the latter, and the volume of an adult Human is of the former."

"Spock has taught me how to shield," Nyota said, a bit defensively.  "And I've never been prone to tempers or mood swings.  I doubt he'd have given me a second glance, if I were."

"In that you are correct."  Spock nodded to her, before turning to Sevakis.  "I would describe Nyota as determined.  Fierce, when called for, but I doubt that aspect of her character shall be often required on Vulcan.  She is fairly calm, for a Human, and her resting emotional state tends toward warm and affectionate.  Provided she maintains her shielding, I should think that a separate bedroom and office space for you would be adequate for privacy and respite."

"Quite possibly," Sevakis agreed.  "I have encountered many louder Humans."

The rest of the interview was, well, not boring, but fairly routine.  Enquiries into each other's history, personal life, goals, and expectations.  All in all, it really was more like a business interview than a preparation for marriage, in Nyota's view.  But it was very like Vulcans to do so.

"What further information do you require?" Sevakis asked at last.

By this point, Nyota was not surprised at how blunt and businesslike everyone was treating this.  She glanced over at Spock.

"I believe that we would all benefit from time to consider what we have learned today," Spock said.  "At which point, if we are all in favor of going forward, I would like a meld before the final decision is made."

Sevakis frowned.  "Before the bonding?  Why?"

She sounded honestly baffled by such a thing, which Nyota didn't understand.  If Nyota were going to be marrying a stranger and forming a telepathic bond with them that would last for the rest of her life, she'd damn well want a trial run ahead of time to test mental compatibility.  She supposed it was different if you were used to such things being arranged by others when you were still a child.

"Is your neurology or psychology so different from Vulcan standard that it might be an issue?" Sevakis asked.

"No," Spock said.  "However, I have found that full-Vulcans, however much they listen, cannot truly understand what it was like to experience the type and duration of bullying and exclusion that I did as a child simply from hearing me speak about it.  Given that my children will likely experience the same, I wish to know what your reaction might be before any commitments are made."

"Very well," Sevakis said.  "However, given the tight timetable and attendant disruptions to schedule, it would be most efficient to have the meld now, and then time to consider after."

"You do not require time to prepare?" Spock asked, with an eyebrow raised.

"No," Sevakis said.

"Very well," Spock said, and with little further ado they melded.

It was odd, to see it from the outside.  Nyota knew that Spock had melded occasionally, in the course of his duties, but she had never been present.  She had melded with him, on occasion, but had never witnessed it.  It was quite boring, from out here.  A few words, a touch, two people sitting motionless.

The most emotionally intimate thing two people could possibly do, and from the outside it looked … boring.  It could almost be a metaphor for the standard prejudices against Vulcans.  If you didn't understand, they were boring and cold.  But if you were allowed to see inside, the reality was quite different.  She wondered what was inside Sevakis.

She didn't have long to wait, although from the inside it probably felt much longer, before Spock and Sevakis were dropping their hands and sitting back.

"Oh," Sevakis said, blinking rapidly.

Nyota looked away.  She wanted—how she longed!—to study the other woman and see her reactions.  But it would be insufferably rude, by Vulcan standards, to pay attention to the other woman's small lapses of control, and if Sevakis was indeed a suitable wife for Spock, the last thing she wanted now was to insult her and possibly drive her away.  Besides, Spock would know Sevakis' character far better, now, than anything Nyota would be able to observe from the outside in such a short time.

It did not take Sevakis long to recover well enough to leave, and the customary farewells were short and simple.  Nyota watched her go, then turned to Spock.  "Well?" she asked as soon as the other woman was probably outside of even Vulcan earshot.

***

On the tram ride home, Sevakis put aside the problem of Spock and Nyota, and got out her PADD.  Plugging in a hearing bud, she watched and listened to the rehearsal notes that had been sent to her account.  It was all simple and required attention but no deep contemplation, which made it perfect for public transportation and a more efficient use of her time than replaying the whole interview in her mind.

The rehearsal notes were not quite boring, but as close to it as they possibly could be, Sevakis noted.  Given the vastly-reduced circumstances, there were only a handful of full productions per year, and given the many threats to Vulcan culture, now much reduced in number and dependent on the importation of aliens for its survival, a certain reactionary traditionalism was only to be expected.  And, certainly, Sevakis' own tastes had always tended to the conservative and customary.

It was, however, unfortunate that so many—even within the artistic community—seemed to equate "traditional" with "rigidly uncreative dogmatism" these days.

When Sevakis reached the hostel, she went through her evening routine as usual before sitting down to contemplate her choices.

Except her mind kept circling back to the meld, and what Spock had shown her.  He was quite correct; being intellectually aware of the result of adverse experiences on developing brains was not the same as experiencing it.  And knowing that would be critical if she were indeed to end up house-mother to children who would probably experience similarly hostile circumstances.

She would have to meditate on this, and integrate what she had learned, before making a decision.

***

"Well?" Nyota asked.  "What do you think?"

Spock tilted his head.  "I think we would work well together," he said.  "She is quite pragmatic and willing to listen.  And she has an honest desire to create and live in an environment that is suitable and comfortable for all concerned.  Her ethics are sound, and she is not prone to indifference or self-justification.  Indeed, her ability to accurately analyze her own mental state is remarkable, even for a Vulcan.  Perhaps especially for a Vulcan—we are quite likely to use our powers of logic to justify our behavior and thoughts, rather than as a basis for them."

"So, what you're saying is, she's not a bigot," Nyota said.

"I … am not quite sure that is the case," Spock said.  "Her opinions about Humans in general and aliens in particular are quite typical.  On the lesser end of what I would consider normal, for a Vulcan; but still present."

"Spock!" Nyota said.  "If that's the case, what does it <em>matter</em> how great she is in other categories?"

"Her self-honesty, however, is remarkable," Spock said, "and in the end that may prove far more valuable.  I do not know that there are any Vulcans who have no prejudices against Humans, or at least a sense of superiority.  My own father has some, as my childhood will attest, and he is now on his second Human wife.  He believes that he is quite neutral and unbiased, but he is not.  He loved me, he loved my mother, this I now know … but his unquestioned assumptions and biases prevented him from protecting me and advocating for me as he ought.  Sevakis has those same assumptions and biases, but I believe she is more willing to examine them without assuming that she already knows the answer."

Nyota listened to this.  He might be right.  Prejudiced, but willing to work through it, might be the best they could find.  If that were the case … then what?  Did she really want to have her children raised in that environment?

She wasn't the one getting married.  She would never be the one getting married.  She wasn't the one who was going to have a stranger sitting in the back of her head.  She could walk away at any time.  She could change her mind and choose not to have children with Spock; even after they were born, if she didn't like the way they were being treated, she could take up a post in the defense center here and raise them herself, or on one of the Vulcan colonies, or on any planet with a decent-sized Vulcan embassy.  She had options, a lot more options than Spock had.  That's the whole reason they were doing it this way, so that she would have as many options as possible.

She didn't like this, but then there wasn't much about the whole situation that she <em>did</em> like, truly, and she'd decided that Spock was worth it.  And if she ever wanted to change her mind, she could.

"And you believe that Sevakis will shield our kids from the worst of the bigotry, and provide a safe and supportive environment for them to grow?" Nyota asked.

"I believe she is more likely to do so than my father did," Spock said.

"And you believe that she'll be willing to work with us to create a family home we can all live with?" Nyota asked.

"Yes," Spock said.

"And you think you won't mind being bonded to her?"

"I would not," Spock said.

"Then I have no objections," Nyota said.  "If you think she's the one, it's your choice."

***

The next day Sevakis sought out Toval before classes again.  With quick efficiency, he reported how the classes he had covered for her had gone.  That done, he sat back and waited for her own story.

"I have been offered a potential match with Spock, son of Sarek, son of Skon, of the House of Surak."

Toval raised an eyebrow.  "What an honor," he said flatly.  He knew as well as anyone did, of course, that there must be some reason why she, of all women, had been offered it.

"He has a Human paramour," Sevakis said.  "Whom he will not be marrying.  But with whom he is planning to have children.  Children who would then be raised by his wife."  She suppressed the jealousy she felt at the Human woman's freedom.  There was no point to it; their circumstances were much different, and it could only cloud Sevakis' judgment.  Clearly, this was something she would need to meditate further on, particularly if she accepted the offer.

"How … novel," Toval said.  "And if he can find a Human he likes, why should he take one of the few Vulcan women left single?  It seems greedy."

"I am not sure that marrying a Vulcan is his own desire," Sevakis admitted.  It had not come up, even in the meld.  "He is half-Human himself, you know.  I am sure his father would prefer that the Vulcan heritage prevails in his son's line.  Especially as Sarek has, yet again, married a Human woman himself."

Toval nodded judiciously.  A generation of Human—or other alien—blood was something that many Vulcans now had to accept.  Two might be too many.  "A husband, a father-in-law and his wife, a paramour," he said.  "That will be quite a large family."  His tone was almost wistful.  On Vulcan, before the Devastation, it would have been shocking in its smallness.  But here, now, after Nero, it was an embarrassment of riches.

That, more than anything else, was what Sevakis wanted.  And it was what Toval was most denied by his status and the shortage of Vulcan women.  "If I marry the Surak heir, you will always be welcome in our home," Sevakis said.

"You cannot make that promise unilaterally," Toval said.

"There is nothing to object to in you," Sevakis said.  "And …" she thought about how the Human woman, Nyota Uhura, had been concerned about Sevakis' own desires.  "And I think that they will wish for me to have as much contentment as I may."

"A good sign," Toval said.

"Yes," Sevakis said.  She still didn't know if she could be an adequate mother and stepmother to hybrid children, given what she now knew.  But was it really possible to know such a thing until you tried?

She had been alone for so long.  She didn't want to be alone any longer.  Spock was a good, intelligent man, and he came with a family ready-made.  And his Human paramour seemed to be tolerable.  Her decision was made, she realized.

***

Once they'd gotten Sevakis' reply through Lady V'Lar, Nyota steeled herself for the next task: discussing it with Sarek, who was on his way back to Vulcan after a diplomatic conference.  They didn't have to tell him themselves, of course; V'Lar had handled that.  But they did have to talk about it.

It was fairly simple to connect a call through to Sarek, although Spock took time to meditate first.  Nyota didn't blame him; conversations with his father, especially held over subspace where they couldn't feel one another telepathically, tended to be … fraught.

When the call connected, Nyota brightened.  Kamala was there, sitting next to Sarek, glowing with pregnancy.  Although Kamala was a point of friction (Spock was having trouble with the idea of a stepmother, however necessary), she was also levelheaded and quite willing to point out when people were being unreasonable, and Nyota liked her.

"I presume you have been informed of my upcoming betrothal?" Spock said, as soon as the greetings were out of the way.

"I have," Sarek said.  "I do not question your logic or your choices, however … I would appreciate an explication of them."  Which was about as close to criticism as he could get without being outright rude, by Vulcan standards, and Nyota could feel from how Spock tensed up next to her that he was taking it as offensive anyway.

"Sevakis is competent, respectable, and gifted in her field," Spock said, in that perfectly even tone he only used when he was angry, "and if her education and background are not as prestigious as some of the other candidates, her understanding of the situation and family dynamics are far greater."

"Of course," Sarek said, "but I find it curious V'Lar was not able to find anyone of a more suitable background whose understanding proved … acceptable."

"Well, there was at least one," Nyota said, "but she chose someone else."  She shrugged.

"We were quite open to the possibility that any of the candidates might prove suitable, Father," Spock said.  "Unfortunately, the reverse did not often prove to be true."

"Nevertheless, there will probably be some ill-will resulting from your choice, which will affect my position in the High Council," Sarek said.  "Lady V'Lar should have taken that into consideration in her suggestions.  It does not reflect well on her, either."  As a man, he had no say in the marriage of his child, though if Amanda had lived, she would have worked with V'Lar to vet potential brides.  Apparently Sarek's thoughts were going in a similar direction, because he turned to Kamala.  "We should have insisted that you participate," he said.  "It is your right as matriarch of the House."

Nyota winced.  Kamala was, technically, the matriarch of the house.  She was also Human, under thirty years of age (if only barely), and still learning Vulcan culture.  V'Lar would not have been happy, and Nyota shuddered to think how much harder she would have been to work with.

"The political ramifications will be temporary," Spock said sharply.  Where Nyota saw a slight of V'Lar's ability, Spock apparently saw a dig at his own choices.   "And while the shaping of the new homeworld is important, the stability of your grandchildren's home and the care of their guardians are of far greater significance."

Sarek opened his mouth to respond, but Kamala grabbed his hand.  He looked at her.

"Sarek," she said.  "Your son is getting married."  She smiled, but it was a smile with teeth.

Sarek blinked several times before turning back to the screen.  "May V'Haltrel bless your bonding, and may T'Pallek and S'kerhon bring harmony to the House."

Nyota and Spock made the appropriate ritual responses (she had been surprised, at first, to learn that there were appropriate ritual responses for the mistress to make in just about any situation).  Nyota pushed down a slight uneasiness at the invoking of other gods.  She hadn't been to a Quaker meeting since reaching adulthood, and she never prayed or read the Bible; it wasn't like she was much of a Christian, and in any case, this was part of the decision to have Vulcan children.  They'd learn about Jesus, but as one household god among many.  On an intellectual level, she had no problem with that.  She needed to work on making sure it didn't stop at the intellectual level.

Sevakis wasn't the only one facing a conflict between gut reactions and what she needed to go forward as a part of the family.

"I am sure Sevakis has many admirable qualities, and will be a credit to our House," Sarek said.

"I believe she will," Spock said stiffly.

After a few more platitudes on both sides, Nyota stepped in with questions about how the summit had gone, which they were all interested in, and things flowed more easily from there.

Once the call was over, Spock got up and walked out.  Nyota thought about talking to him, but she'd decided long ago that she wasn't going to get into the middle of the longstanding mess between him and his father.  They could figure it out themselves, or not.   They could definitely benefit from family counseling, she'd thought that for a while, but it would be hard to arrange with them so seldom on the same planet.  And now they'd have another person to add to the mix, and children very shortly—first Sarek and Kamala's, then Spock's with Sevakis and Nyota.

Maybe things would go better.  Maybe there would be more balance with more people to serve as a buffer.  Or maybe things would get worse and they'd have to figure out the counselling thing long-distance.

Nyota sighed.  Family was complicated.

***

Sevakis brought Toval when she went to meet her future father-in-law and see the house.  It was not proper—she should have brought women with her—but she had no close women friends left alive, and she would definitely need support to meet with the head of the House of Surak.

"You fret needlessly," Toval observed as they took time for Sevakis to gather herself before walking up to the door.  "You are his son's choice, a match suggested by his Eldest Mother, and if he wishes a tranquil household he will not wish to cause trouble."

Sevakis narrowed her eyes at Toval.  This was true, but it was hardly helpful.  She had not had such trouble with the Disciplines since the first days and weeks after the Devastation.  "I know," she said.

She stared at the building in front of her.  She, Sevakis, daughter of Supar, daughter of V’Hal, last (for now) of the House of Tokel, was going to marry a son of the House of Surak; the heir, no less.  Her parents would have been so proud.

If her parents were still alive, if the Devastation had never happened, it would never have happened.  And she would give anything to have them back.  But that was impossible, and it was illogical to dwell on might-have-beens.  This was her future.

She took a slow breath, and let it out, one of the earliest disciplines a child learned.  She walked forward.

Next Fic:

Children of the Desert

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