"Computer, open private channel." Nyota entered Gaila's contact information, then sat waiting for the connection to complete. Her long fingers anxiously twisted together. "Please be home, please be home - alone this time," she whispered.

...

Cool night air blew across Sarek's bed, shocking him awake. He'd completed his meditation early, then lain down for a night of true sleep. He was tired out by the energy expended in responding to the emergency sighting of the mystery spacecraft. Equally tiring was the expense of emotional energy expended in showing his displeasure at the way his son and Nyota were mistreated by hypocritical people who usually tried to gain his favor in exchange for political and social influence.

Sarek sat up and saw that the two long doors leading to the balcony were open, swinging back and forth as though someone had pushed them. Groggy, he stared into the corners of the room; unable to dispel the eerie sense that someone had been near him and departed hastily. His burly valet had asked Sarek to give up his habit of leaving the balcony doors unlocked. Crime was rare on New Vulcan, and Sarek had dismissed the man's worries.

Now, with his skin prickling, he wondered if he'd been wrong. Sarek sensed a deep throbbing in his left arm and rubbed it, then concentrated on finding the source of the pain and making it go away. The pain did not ease quickly; it was several minutes before he was able to dull its edge. Age or stress, probably. Perhaps he could make time for medical treatment later that week. Vulcan doctors were scarce since the destruction, but if none were available, the Federation could refer him to a specialist in xenobiology.

He needed rest; his duties required him to interact with offworlders from across the Federation tomorrow. Sarek closed the doors, latching them securely this time.

...

"I'm sorry to bother you like this, Gaila - it's just that...I have to talk to someone, and it can't be Spock." Tears finally broke through her determined reserve, and she wiped them away.

Clad in her duty uniform, Gaila stretched forward from her crosslegged position and pressed a hand against the screen. "Aw, sweetie, it must be really terrible. What happened? Did you two fight?"

"Yes." Nyota summarized the eventful day, ending with their argument. "I can't seem to get along with anyone here except one nice woman. I'm not exactly being made welcome on New Vulcan; not outside Sarek's house, anyway."

"Shame on them, those - " Gaila uttered a colorful Orion curse word which simultaneously referred to unwashed body parts and snobbery. It was a word Nyota had enjoyed learning from her friend, as it had been carefully excluded from official Orion language study curriculum materials. Hearing Gaila pronounce the word clearly and energetically now, Nyota gave a hiccuping laugh and got her tears under control.

"...so now I'm not sure what the future holds for us. I could live here and have two or three friends, I guess, and watch our children be snubbed by other children. Of course, I could do that very same thing on earth, come to think of it. Maybe we'll find somewhere different to live during part of each year. I don't want him to think I am avoiding Vulcan culture."

"Think about this," Gaila replied. "How much of an effort has he made to learn your culture, to live with it?"

"He has reciprocated; we wouldn't be together now if he hadn't." Nyota described Spock's politeness during visits home with her, his interactions with her neighbors, the quiet friendship he'd established with her father and mother, the admiration he'd expressed for the calmly welcoming atmosphere in the Uhura household. He had even let her mother and Auntie 'Chelle be physically affectionate with him, saying nothing while they clasped his hands and patted his shoulders; Nyota suspected that he secretly enjoyed the attention.

"Not bad," Gaila said. "You're lucky. You've got a nice family. I'll never forget how good they were to me. Maybe that's one place you could spend your time, when you're not aboard a ship. Both of you could live and work anywhere on Earth."

"I don't know what's best."

Gaila shrugged. "You don't have to decide now. You've got three years of the mission left."

"Now I just have to survive New Vulcan's social scene for two weeks. I haven't been this stressed since Academy days."

"Hold your head high, pretty lady. You've got more to give the known universe than gossip and a bad attitude. They don't all hate you. Go find some unfashionable commoners and hang out with them instead."

"I may just do that," Nyota laughed. "I think you'd like one thing about New Vulcan for sure, gorgeous," she teased. "I've seen some handsome Vulcan men. Not that I want any Vulcans but my own, but I did notice."

"Ha! Find me one who likes emotions and a little bit of kink, and I'm in!"

"I accept the challenge. One emotional, mildly kinky Vulcan for Gaila. It's going on my to-do list for New Vulcan, along with 'pray for patience', 'remain diplomatic', and 'avoid kicking somebody's ass'. Don't look at me like that, I'm kidding."

"They are getting to you. They hurt you."

"It doesn't hurt now as much as it did at the reception. I've dealt with it."

A chime sounded from Gaila's end of the connection. "Sorry, I've got to go back on duty. Feel better, make up, make love, move on."

"Thanks, Gaila. I want to hear about your happy love life next time."

"Um, things have changed. Later." Gaila signed off.

...

The dvinsu, a young valet-in-training, gaped openmouthed at Spock stretched out on the office floor, then quickly erased all emotion from his face. "May I assist you with anything, Osu Spock?"

Unfolding his tall frame from his sleeping position on the carpet, Spock rose to his feet. "Perhaps you could advise me as to where I might find a clean shirt in my size? I am temporarily unable to retrieve my own from my quarters."

"I will ask the head valet. In the meantime, may I direct you to a cleansing room for your convenience?"

"Yes. Thank you." Spock knew that the young valet - a teenager, really - was brimming over with curiosity, wondering why bondmates would not sleep together. The young man would understand when he grew a bit older, Spock thought with bitter amusement; maybe he'd be better than Spock at responding to a bondmate's needs.

Dr. McCoy, despite his overly emotional nature and tendency to shout, had been insightful and sympathetic. Spock admitted that McCoy's advice was somewhat logical. Now he must apply the advice properly and produce the desired results.

...

The borrowed shirt was slightly too big in the shoulders, having been custom made for the former wrestler who now served as Sarek's valet. However, it was clean, and so conservatively styled that it would draw little attention. Nervously, Spock paused outside the arched opening leading to the dining room; what would he say to Nyota if she were already there? Their bond had remained closed since last night, he could not calm himself enough to focus and sense where she was. He entered, and saw his father seated with a bowl of porridge. Dishes of fruit and a teapot sat on the table; Spock was reminded again of another thing he and his father had in common, a preference for a simple breakfast.

He greeted Sarek and sat down. Sarek finished eating and moved on to his tea. Finally, Spock broke the silence.

"Has Nyota already eaten?"

Sarek looked at him oddly. "She did not tell you? I spoke with her in the courtyard this morning: I apologized for her mistreatment yesterday and told her that I defended her, though after the fact. After graciously accepting my apology Nyota ate an early meal alone, and then left the house for a walk. I insisted that one of my staff accompany her."

"I see." Looking up from his bowl, Spock met his father's inquisitive gaze. He decided to confess.

"We did not sleep in the same room last night. Before retiring, we had a conversation about yesterday's events. Nyota...thought and felt that I did not provide sufficient social and emotional support in response to the way some of the ladies treated her. I stated that I thought it important to ignore the treatment in favor of maintaining positive diplomatic relations and following non-confrontational Vulcan behavior patterns. Nyota disagreed, and became so angry with me that she requested I sleep elsewhere."

Sarek stared at his son. "Are you unaware of all that Nyota experienced yesterday? Consider her perspective. Following her experience of being shunned, she experienced the stress of a security alert on a planet where she had been for less than twenty-four Standard hours. Next, she was separated from you when the two of us were called into a planetary security meeting. It is my understanding that she was called into a private audience with T'Pau immediately upon her return to this house. I doubt that it was a cheerful chat," Sarek added in an almost sarcastic tone of voice.

"Now you tell me that you engaged in a condescending argument with your bondmate at the end of what must have been a physically and emotionally demanding day for any woman, human or otherwise. Are you surprised by her refusal to allow you to share your sleeping quarters? Her actions do possess a certain type of logic, my son."

"It all seems quite clear now, father," sighed Spock. His shoulders slumped. "My mistakes were many; believe me, I never intended to hurt her emotionally, as I care for her deeply. I had sufficient time to consider my errors last night, after I contacted Dr. McCoy aboard the Enterprise. He had useful suggestions for actions I may undertake in order to 'get back in Nyota's good graces', as he said."

Sarek raised an eyebrow. "You could have asked me how to soothe the injured feelings of a human woman. I was married to your mother, Spock. Happily, as you know very well."

"It was late," Spock said awkwardly. "I smelled the smoke from your firepot and did not wish to disturb your meditation."

"I am your father! I would welcome being disturbed for advice, or even for idle conversation. Your decisions have not always been agreeable to me, but much has changed. We should know more about one another."

The sudden emotion in Sarek's voice surprised Spock. "Our current interactions are peaceful. We are able to discuss many subjects without conflict."

"Yet you do not allow me to be a source of... emotional and personal support to you. At times you treat me as though I were a colleague, not your parent."

"It was not intentional; I am simply accustomed to living my own life." But was it really his own? He was connected to so many people now: Nyota, her family, Kirk, even the cantankerous McCoy, and others aboard the Enterprise and in the Federation with whom he interacted frequently. Emotional attachments existed, despite his denial of them.

"I would appreciate any opportunity to become more involved in your life. Nyota has made measurable efforts to improve our acquaintance with each other." Sarek paused, then looked at him seriously. "I have invited a more hospitable group of people to tonight's reception, although I cannot shun the rude ones for political reasons. Nyota will need your support, Spock. You do plan to attend?"

"Of course I do. I will not leave her to face the world of Vulcan society alone. Although it took me some time to admit it to myself, I often find myself relying upon Nyota during parties; she has a more developed sense of sociability and better personal interaction skills."

"You are expected to enter the banquet hall together."

Fighting the impulse to roll his eyes, Spock replied, "Yes, I know, Father. "

Footsteps sounded lightly in the hall; Spock looked up to see Nyota standing barefoot in the arched doorway, holding a pair of sandals in one hand as though preparing to go out again.

"Osu Sarek, I - oh. Greetings, Spock."

Spock stood up, but did not approach her. "Good morning, tal-kam. I hope that your walk was agreeable."

"It was. Thank you." Her glance moved between father and son.

"Did you wish to ask me something, ko-fu Nyota?"

"I wished to ask your advice. Privately. But...oh, we're all here in the same room. I don't know if I should even talk about this, forget it."

"I have already spoken with my father about our disagreement last night, and I have acknowledged my errors. I am very sorry, Nyota. I should have considered your experiences more thoroughly. In future I will defend and support you. Please forgive me."

Pressing a hand against her forehead, Nyota sighed. "I've thought things over, too. Yesterday was really tough for me; I'm sorry I threw that pillow at you."

Eyebrows raised, Sarek stood and headed for the door. "Perhaps this conflict is best resolved between the two of you. Alone. I will speak with both of you later."

Embarassed, Nyota looked down at the floor as her father-in-law left.

Spock gestured toward the empty place next to him. "Sanoi (please), come sit with me, if it is agreeable to you. I dislike being in the same room, yet so far away from you."

Looking uncertain, Nyota sat down on the cushion beside him. The polish on her toenails shone a deep red. Spock reached out to caress her foot, ready to make some teasing remark about the illogical ornamentation, then hesitated and pulled back his hand. Had they forgiven each other enough yet? She adjusted her skirts, covering the bared skin.

Spock leaned a bit closer, wishing that he could touch her, or that she would touch him. "I am prepared to apologize to you a thousand times, and each time will be sincere. If anyone insults you in my hearing, I will address it. I wished for a defender many times as a youth on Vulcan; I learned to defend myself, but that does not mean that I would have rejected help from others."

"So you do understand. Why did you scold me about needing reassurance? Don't you ever want to be reminded that I love you?"

"You tell me about your feelings for me frequently; verbal reminders are provided approximately every 1.3 days." He lifted two fingers towards her hand, risking touch. "Non-verbal reminders are provided daily, often in multiple ways that even a scientist finds difficult to quantify...but these reminders are always pleasing. You do it freely, and I so I do not ask you to tell me."

"Do you take me for granted?"

"No. You have told me you love me and I accept it as fact. However, last night's conflict serves as a reminder that I must strive to remain worthy of your feelings. Is this a correct assessment?"

"Spock, there's no simple answer to that question." Slowly, she uncurled her fingers and pressed two to his.

Trembling at the skin contact, Spock murmured, "I will work to win you back."

"You haven't lost me." She stroked the side of his face, and he allowed his eyes to fall closed for a moment while he drank in her touch. "I wouldn't complain if you wanted to be extra sweet to me for a few days, though."

His eyes opened as her hand moved away. "That is interesting phraseology; it recalls Dr. McCoy's advice."

Nyota laughed. "You asked Len for help in solving this?"

"He has great knowledge of difficulties in human relationships. I believe his exact words were, 'give her some sugar; extra sugar'. Leonard spoke metaphorically during much of our discussion, which is odd for a medical professional."

"It's not odd for a friend. Oh, I can just imagine the things he said! Should I thank him or scold him, I wonder?"

"Do not worry, Nyota. I am willing to 'be creative', as he suggested."

Without warning, Nyota gathered her skirt in one hand and stood, startling him. "I'm glad we talked, but I think I still need some space," she said, pulling on her sandals. "I'll see you tonight."

She walked through the door leading into the sunny courtyard garden. Spock leapt up and hurried after her.

"Nyota, wait." He'd hoped that the steady, playful affection they shared would be easily restored. "Have I hurt you so deeply? My words were harsh indeed."

"I'll get over it. I'm...thinking about some things. Anyway, I have to prepare to leave for a social appointment; T'voria invited me. Someone finally decided to be friendly to me on New Vulcan, and I'm not going to waste the opportunity."

She walked towards the main door, then paused, looking back at him almost as an afterthought. "What are your plans for the day?"

"I will accompany Sarek to a meeting regarding the Coridian application for Federation membership."

"How interesting. Some very dynamic and popular trade languages are used in Coridian space ports. Sarek mentioned that the Coridian ambassadors have been invited to tonight's reception at the Cultural Center."

"Affirmative. I shall return from Parliament as early as possible so that we may dine together."

"Oh, I don't know how soon I'll be back. Don't feel obliged to wait for me," she said, and left.

Tension gripped Spock's side, all around his heart. Apparently words were insufficient; she did not believe him. Tangibles, McCoy had suggested. Actions, and objects. He must try some other way to win at this tangled business of love.

Frustrated, Spock struck the thick trunk of a treelike plant with his fist; a section of the bark cracked, and he grimaced. Another gentle thing was damaged by his blundering. He heard the sound of a transport's purring engine beyond the wall, the sound of Nyota leaving.

...

Plans for an evening of romantic attempts at reconciliation flew away with the light afternoon breeze that swirled dry leaves around the courtyard at the Parliamentary Building.

"Why have Captain Kirk and Mr. Scott been summoned to this series of diplomatic meetings?" demanded an astounded Spock. "And Lieutenant Sulu and Dr. McCoy as well?" He hoped that the Doctor would remain professional enough to avoid winking at him or otherwise reminding Spock of his angst-filled midnight distress call.

Infuriatingly, Sarek raised an eyebrow in response. "They are your colleagues; do you not welcome their participation?"

"Both are dedicated, honest, intelligent officers. I consider them friends as well as admirable colleagues. Simply put, I was unaware of their connection to this situation with the Coridians. I had assumed that my own Federation knowledge might be sufficient in this situation."

"The Federation communicated to me privately that Jim Kirk, Hikaru Sulu, and Montgomery Scott have experiential knowledge likely to be useful during our discussion of dilithium resources and spacecraft. As the Enterprise is nearby, I thought it appropriate to invite them to meet the Coridians. I requested the presence of Dr. McCoy for personal reasons."

"Personal - Father, are you ill?"

"I do not know. I am uncertain, and I seek to put Dr. McCoy's xenobiology knowledge to good use. Among the Federation doctors contacted, he was the first to respond to my inquiry. We may discuss this in depth later," Sarek finished, nodding toward the structure that housed a transporter pad. Arriving guests walked through the courtyard - Andorians, more Coridians, Vulcans living off-planet in colonies, and other off-worlders. Vulcan security forces briefly interviewed each person, confirming their identities.

"You must allow me to assist you," Spock said. "Precisely when will my crewmates arrive?" Spock asked.

Sarek gave him an indulgent half-smile. "Now, I think."

"Hey, there he is. Spock!"

...

An enthusiastic T'voria led Nyota on a lengthy walking tour of the city center, pausing to describe the future purpose of construction sites and pointing out places where the population shopped, sought resettlement assistance and conducted public life. People traveled through the city on foot, in camel carts or on camelback, and small transport vehicles. Finally Nyota pleaded for a rest, and the women sat drinking fruit juices beneath a canopy in the market.

"I am pleased to know that you will be present at tonight's diplomatic reception. I shall accompany my husband. Often I am alone at home with the children every night. I asked him to involve me more in his activities and his thoughts, and now he remembers to bring me to social events."

Just ask, huh? Wish it were that simple for me, Nyota thought. "I'm a little nervous about this reception."

"Why? Your bondmate and Sarek will be present, and I will introduce you to the women I know. They are much kinder than those on the camel tour yesterday."

Briefly, Nyota explained the problem of her red dress, without saying who had indirectly forbidden her to wear it.

A wry expression appeared on T'voria's face. "It was T'Pau, was it not?"

"I didn't say who it was."

T'voria finished her fruit juice with an un-Vulcan slurp. "Her advice is, in a practical sense, quite sound. She wanted you to understand that you will draw attention to yourself if you wear a bright color. She meant to be kind to you by helping you to 'fade into the background', to use the Standard expression. Is fading into the background agreeable to you?"

"I don't need to be the center of attention. Red is a color of celebration and warmth, and I wear that dress because I like it. It's comfortable and pretty."

"Comfortable. Pretty." T'voria's eyes sparkled as she looked off into the distance, obviously plotting something. Nyota had often seen a similar expression on Gaila's face. Some sort of rumpus usually followed.

Hmm.

The woman jumped up and grabbed Nyota's sleeve.

"Accompany me, Nyota. We have three hours yet before I must pick up the children from school. I will take you to my home. I privately practice a commoner's art - I am an ogsu (seamstress), as my grandmother was. I have an idea that you may find useful."

"I wouldn't dare upset T'Pau!"

"You are only forbidden from wearing a red dress. Naught was said of any other color."

Apprehensive, but too curious to say no, Nyota followed.