A sea of eyes, some in multiple sets, gazed back at Nyota, and she internally questioned the wisdom of Scotty's social strategy. She hadn't warmed up and was playing to a potentially tough audience. T'ober, the woman who had been less than welcoming on the camel tour and ignored Nyota's greeting earlier that evening, chose that moment to step out for some fresh air, walking through an arched doorway that appeared to lead to a terrace. Good riddance, Nyota thought. She was nervous enough as it was, and one less judgmental stare in the room might relax her.

Carefully, she avoided looking in T'Pau's direction, focusing her attention on the cascading notes the musician played. The song was familiar to her, in a key she handled well, and the High Vulcan lyrics dealt with appreciating the pleasures of changing seasons; nothing to outrage anyone. As always, the music calmed her and turned her thoughts away from herself. As she sang the first notes, she felt herself become part of the song, and she soon thought about little more than sharing the song with the beings around her and following and responding to the musician beside her. When the song ended, she felt almost startled by the various forms of applause - clapping hands, whistles, squeaks, grumbles, foot stomps, and silent, waving hands.

"Thank you both. The performance was most agreeable. Another, please?" The request came from Sancis, the sociable Vulcan who had hosted the camel trip. "Perhaps an Earth melody, for balance."

"Thank you, Osu Sancis. Perhaps there's an Earth song we both know..." Nyota looked uncertainly at the harpist.

"I spent some years traveling as part of a cultural delegation on Earth," the man said reassuringly. "I learned many Earth songs, Osasu Uhura. Are you familiar with this song by the great tertitayek, Osu Edward Kennedy Ellington?"

Quickly, his fingers plucked the notes of a phrase from a song Nyota had learned during her first year with the Starfleet Chorale. Love You Madly. The familiar melody made her smile. "Good choice , sir. "

They began the song. Nyota sought refuge in the music again, but this time she opened her bond with Spock enough to let him know what she thought, and felt, while she sang. She'd observed him becoming similarly absorbed in songs while playing his ka'athyra. He would understand. Handsome in his close-fitting dress uniform jacket and dark trousers, Spock stood at the inside of the loose circle around Nyota and the harpist. The tenderness in his expression gave her hope; maybe they would feel easy with one another again soon and regain their old sense of comfort.

Unfortunately, maintaining focus was difficult this time. Even while Nyota sang, she could hear raised voices speaking in angry tones at the far edge of the room; a few glances in that direction revealed Gav, the Tellarite delegate, exchanging tense words with the Coridians. The tensions which had flared between the Coridian planetary system and Tellaris several decades ago had not been entirely forgotten. Abundant supplies of dilithium crystals might be enough to help some governments form a positive opinion of Coridians, but Gav's disagreement was openly displayed. Apparently he felt so passionately about the matter that he was unwilling to wait until tomorrow morning's meetings and wanted to debate it now. Sarek approached them, perhaps attempting to end the dispute.

Nyota increased her volume slightly, as did the ka'athyra player. Sighing slightly with relief, Nyota noticed Gav leave the room with Sarek. The second song was as well received as the first, but she declined to sing a third. Instead she thanked the harpist and sought out a place to sit with T'voria and a group of surprisingly gregarious Vulcan women.

One of the Vulcan ladies hinted to Nyota that she was interested in an introduction to Jim, who was aiming the Kirk Smile in the ladies' direction. He'd modified the Kirk Smile for Vulcan - no teeth showing - but this only increased its effect, making him seem shy, boyish, and approachable. The woman was on the verge of showing emotions as she looked Kirk up and down.

Here we go again, Nyota thought, but she made the introduction, first whispering, "Don't touch her hands, or anything else," into Jim's ear. He cast a smug look her way, but complied. He kept his hands behind his back and gazed into the woman's eyes with a soulful expression. Nyota thought she was about to witness the rare sight of a Vulcan woman swooning.

A different Vulcan woman approached Nyota, and in a low voice, requested an introduction to Sulu. A steady stream of women and men, Vulcan and otherwise, began to quietly express their wish to acquaint themselves with Sulu, Scotty, and Jim.

Does the Starfleet dress uniform make men irresistible? If I have to play matchmaker tonight, maybe I can help Len out. Nyota looked around the large room, but Len had vanished. Kirk was dividing his attention between a cluster of Vulcans and the blue-painted person dressed in gold mesh. Sulu and Scotty were surrounded by curious guests. Fun to watch, but slightly overwhelming. A few minutes by herself wouldn't hurt. Slipping away from the buzz of conversation, Nyota sought out a quiet place in the big building.

...

Leonard McCoy wondered where Sarek had gone. The stately Vulcan was nowhere to be seen; not on the terraces, nor in the winding corridors. After what seemed like a great deal of walking he found the older man seated on a bench in an alcove.

"Sir, are you feeling well? Can you breathe easily?"

"I am well, thank you, Dr. McCoy. It is just a moment of solitude. Tensions between the Tellarites and Coridians remain high, and it was difficult to persuade them to allow the disagreement to wait until we are all in a formal setting. Such is the diplomat's life."

"I could hear that argument from the other side of the room; personally, I'd call it more than 'tense'. I know that our appointment is scheduled for tomorrow, but until then I'd like to offer this bit of medical advice: let some of your staff and colleagues deal with Gav tonight, or consider leaving the party early so that you can get some rest. The symptoms you described to me suggest cardiac problems, and I don't want you experiencing any more stress than necessary. I do understand that your presence in meetings is important, but you can't help New Vulcan if you're sick."

A fleeting expression of stubbornness showed clearly in Sarek's face; McCoy realized that Vulcans were, occasionally, easy to read. "My presence in meetings is essential." He shoulders sagged. "However, I admit that I do not feel entirely well."

Nor did he look entirely well, McCoy thought. "With all due respect, sir, I think you may need to go home. If I can help with anything now, please tell me - great jumpin' Jehoshaphat! Where'd you come from?"

Sarek's large, silent valet was standing behind McCoy's right shoulder.

"Pardon, Dr. McCoy. Sietla moves very quickly and silent. Sietla, permit me to introduce Dr. Leonard McCoy, of the Enterprise; he will act as my physician on behalf of the Federation. Dr. McCoy, this is Sietla, my valet."

Valet? I can't see this brawny character ironing anybody's shirts. Breaking legs, maybe.

"Sietla, how do you do? A pleasure to meet you. We may be seeing a bit of each other over the next few days. I promise you, I'll do my best to help Sarek."

The face above the muscular chest remained expressionless, but he lifted his hand in greeting. McCoy attempted to return the ta'al, but his fingers wouldn't cooperate, and he settled for a short nod.

"Sietla, I will speak privately with Dr. McCoy for several minutes, and then return home. You may stay if you like."

"Return alone? Not safe." The man's deep voice rumbled forth in Standard, a polite concession to McCoy's presence.

"New Vulcan has street crime?"

"For some on street," Sietla said. "Advice to you: Starfleet men walk together at night. Vulcans, off-worlders, they do not all like Starfleet. Safe here. Not all places."

"I understand. Thanks for the advice."

Sietla gave McCoy a serious look and walked a few feet away, giving them some privacy.

My Great Aunt Minnie Wiggins makes a more convincing valet than this dude.

"So, Sarek, how's that arm feeling now?"

...

Spock wondered if the men gathered near the doorway realized that his half-humanness did not diminish his sensitive Vulcan hearing. Perhaps they simply did not care. Spying and eavesdropping were not habits he pursued, but among beings with names, it was natural to pause when one heard one's name spoken. Guarded emotions and politeness were not universal on planet, and Vulcans were no more perfect than any other being. Most Vulcans at least tried to achieve a sort of perfection. Not this little group. Their opinions were made clear to him as he stood behind the column.

"Spock? One wonders whether it is his human half that leads to his peculiar sexual proclivities with regard to human women."

"Proclivities? Has he dallied with other humans?"

"Spock spent years on Earth at that Starfleet, did he not? He would have had numerous opportunities to indulge his undisciplined human impulses."

Numerous? Not precisely. Earth had presented some opportunities for sexual experiences, all conducted discreetly off-campus. However, Spock had spent some of his time at Starfleet being avoided; some of it avoiding thrill-seekers hoping to add a Vulcan to their list of conquests; and months yearning quietly for Nyota while wondering if she were avoiding him. If he hadn't mastered emotional detachment from a lifetime of hearing himself insulted, he would have been amused by the suggestion that he'd lived a life of sensual indulgence on Earth. Instead, he simply found the content, time and place of the discussion duhik - foolish - and offensive.

"I have heard that he attempts to follow Vulcan customs, but his blood is not pure; therefore his tastes cannot possibly be. Perhaps he stayed too long on Earth."

"His human female speaks Vulcan well," a timid voice ventured. "In her interaction with me she displayed acceptable standards of courtesy. Her emotions were controlled but her behavior indicates empathy. She asked me about my intellectual interests and listened to my response. In return, she responded to my own questions about her life in the United States of Africa, and even offered to show me holos from her family home."

"Holos of what?" sneered the first voice. "Half-naked humans? Or a 'safari', as I believe they are called?"

The timid voice grew firm and stronger. "That is an ignorant comment. As any educated being knows, large cities and complex cultures have flourished throughout the African continent for many centuries. I am far from displeased with Osasu Uhura. She was observed socializing with an eccentric, T'voria, but I see no reason to be dismissive of her."

"I saw how the husband of T'arba stared," muttered the second man. "He watched Spock's human as though she were one of the plants he studies."

"T'arba has no reason to worry. It may be passing sexual curiosity, similar to that of Spock. It will surprise no one if Spock abandons the human female."

"Pehkau! She is his bondmate, not his toy. More respect should be shown to Uhura, and indeed to any female. None of us truly understands the private lives of others. I am ashamed of myself for listening to such talk at a diplomatic function." The third man strode away.

Spock knew that the proper path of action was not to confront the men. However, he could not prevent himself from stepping out from behind the column so that they could see him.

Vulcans rarely gasped, but Spock clearly heard air hissing inward: a collective, startled intake of breath. His expression was stern as he faced the men, taking a second to look each one in the eye. One of them sought an appointment to a prestigious committee led by Sarek.

"I heard," Spock said.

Shoulders stiff, he walked away.

Spock walked back in the direction he'd come from, seeking temporary escape from the pressures of this social event. Cool evening air beckoned to him; for once, even as a Vulcan, he felt too hot. The door to the broad terrace on the side of the building stood open, and he walked out into the night.

Nyota stood to one side of the door, her arms wrapped around herself.

"Nyota! How long have you been here?"

"I overheard someone talking about us. Part of what they said, anyway. I left. I've had enough of this for tonight. Maybe I can deal with it tomorrow; not now."

"How much did you hear?"

"They mentioned your 'sexual proclivities'. That third man spoke up, thank goodness, and I left. Seems that I can't do anything right here. The rest of the crew seems to be getting along well, thank goodness. I think I want to go home now. I'll find a transport, I have my own money."

"No. I will take you. I prefer that you do not leave this way. Walk with me, let us have some unstructured time together. I have not been alone with you for so long," he said, unable to keep the pleading tone from his voice. "Let me try to comfort you, ashayam."

He held her hand then, in the human way, fingers interlaced and palms touching. Through the skin contact, Spock sensed her gratitude and relief, tinged with sadness. Impulsively he leaned forward to kiss her on the mouth.

She turned her head away. "We can't do this here," she whispered.

"Then we shall find a more private place, if you will permit me to try again," Spock replied. Holding hands, they began to walk the perimeter of the broad terrace.

The terrace was surrounded with a high fence; the modest night life of New Vulcan was visible in the street. Passerby made their way home or to unknown errands. Many walked. Others drove small transport vehicles. Nyota saw a few Vulcans riding camels, their pointy ears visible in silhouette. Although not a bustling metropolitan scene, there were signs of renewal and vibrant life in the semidarkness. As she walked with Spock's warm hand in her own, the fears and disappointments of the evening faded slightly. Singing with the harpist had been enjoyable, and T'voria's friends were welcoming. Sarek and Spock had made her feel protected and welcomed. True, the conflict between Gav and the Coridians was unsettling, but perhaps Gav could find a peaceful resolution tomorrow. Weapons had not been drawn; things could be worse.

They walked to an area where transport vehicles were parked, along a row of tall, treelike plants laden with blossoms. Even at night, the flowers gave off a heavy, sensual fragrance.

Spock pulled her into the shadows of the trees and kissed her again. This time she did not resist, and it pleased him to feel her relax.

Afterward, Spock embraced her. "I have missed you."

"I was not gone," she sighed, resting her head on his chest.

"Do you still want to leave?"

"I didn't say goodbye to anyone. Please, can't we just stay out here for a while longer? I only want a little break, and then we can go back inside."

"Yes. Then home. To bed."

Gently mocking Spock's patterns of speech, she said, "The subjects occupying your mind tonight are few. Indeed, I believe one subject takes precedence above all others."

"You, above all others." He pulled her closer to him.

"Watch those hands, Mister. We're standing in the Vulcan equivalent of a parking lot. Somebody's going to see us, and we'll be providing free entertainment for the entire city."

"Here is a partial solution." Leading her by the hand, Spock unlocked one of the transports and helped her climb inside. The vehicle was roomy, with a comfortable interior and a curved windshield designed to provide a sweeping view.

"Nice ride, but not too private."

"You underestimate me; this transport is the latest model, and has many useful features. Observe." He gave directions to the vehicle. The windshield darkened slightly, the vents opened to allow the flow of scented night air, and the seats shifted to form a comfortable shape reminiscent of a sofa.

The engine quietly purred to life; Spock moved the vehicle some distance away, beneath a tree with sprawling branches in full flower. The shadows cast by the canopy of branches and dense petals provided a bit more privacy.

Spock shut the engine off, pushed his seat back, and stretched out his legs.

"Shall we wait here until you decide whether or not you would like to face the crowd again? If you want to talk, I am prepared to listen."

From what she could see of him in the half-darkness, his face looked quite serious, and a little sad.

Twinges of pain spiked from her neck down to her shoulders, and she pressed her fingers into the sore muscles. "Maybe I just need a moment out here to relax, think about something else. 'Hold your head high', people say. Well, I held it so high all night that my muscles tensed up, and now they feel like rocks."

Warm fingers slid along her bare skin.

"If you will permit me?"

She smiled at him, then let her eyelids drift closed while he massaged her neck and shoulders. Pausing to adjust her seat to make it easier to touch her, he asked her to turn around so that he could rub her shoulders more easily. The gentle, steady kneading of her muscles relaxed her, and she groaned. Nyota heard Spock's breathing quicken its pace. He pushed away the fabric of her bodice to bare her shoulder, leaning forward to kiss, then gently nip her shoulder with his teeth.

He paused. "I am sorry," he whispered. "You worry that I...'take you for granted', but...I enjoy touching your skin. Last night I feared I might not have the opportunity to do so again."

Insecurity wasn't exclusive to the emotional world of women, apparently. "One night of anger doesn't always end a relationship. Our bond is stronger than that, isn't it?"

"Are you still angry with me?"

"No. Worried about us, yes. Not angry."

"Should you have any requests of an intimate nature, I am willing to do anything that pleases you."

"Anything?"

"I am at your command, t'hy'la."

Playful Spock was difficult to resist, but she couldn't do the things she wanted to do with him, not outdoors in a public place. She gave in to her urge to tease.

"I was not entirely obedient to T'Pau. I am wearing red tonight. Would you like to see?"

Lifting Spock's hands, she placed them beneath her long skirt. He stared up at her, questioning. She nodded her permission.

Hands trembling, Spock pushed the soft fabric up, baring Nyota's smooth legs. She wore only underwear made from silky red fabric. He groaned in surrender and lowered his mouth to her thighs, kissing them.

"I've never done this kind of thing inside a vehicle," Nyota whispered.

"Are you uncomfortable? I will stop."

It was difficult to say no, with his gleaming dark eyes gazing up at her from between her thighs. In fact, it was a mighty struggle, but she knew that she couldn't give in.

"Wait until we get home," she sighed in defeat. "You have no idea how badly I want to say yes. Does my behavior bother you? It's...not the sort of thing that proper ladies do, I know."

"I believe that we have both had enough of propriety for this night." Spock raised his voice enough to be heard by the transport's onboard tech system. "Computer, lock doors."

"Spock, the party!"

"Allow me five minutes."