DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2000 by Djinn. This story is Rated PG.
Negotiations
by Djinn
The reception was in full swing by the time
Spock beamed down to the planet. Making his way through Buraskii
merrymakers, he searched the crowd for the members of his delegation. Among the
colorful and elaborate robes worn by the Buraskii he
could pick out the more sedate dress uniforms of the Federation contingent. He
made his way to those nearest him.
"Mr. Spock, thank goodness you've
arrived." McCoy motioned him closer. "The Buraskii
chief healer has been asking for you. She has some additional questions for you
about whatever it was she cornered you on the last time."
Spock ignored the doctor's ribbing. He knew
McCoy enjoyed seeing him interact with the smitten alien. He treated Dotura with courtesy but avoided being alone with her
whenever possible. He had to play this delicately, though. He could not afford
to offend her, not when she was a key player in getting approval for the trade
agreement. An agreement that could be the first step toward
Federation membership. Fortunately, Dotura,
who made no attempt to hide her interest in him, was easily distracted by the
opportunity to interact with her Federation counterparts. A fact he used
frequently to effect graceful escapes.
The Buraskii were a
highly advanced race. They had been aware of the Federation for some time, and
medical representatives traveled offworld frequently.
The culture valued healers highly, and there were a
vast number of them on Burask. The Buraskii healers had studied other species as well as their
own and were often found offworld, working on plague
worlds, investigating epidemics. They could always be found wherever there was
suffering. And, as healers, they enjoyed a neutrality
that allowed them to move freely through most of the worlds in the quadrant.
In the weeks that Spock's delegation had been
working with the Buraskii, he had learned much of the
planet and its people. They valued logic as much as empathy. It was a fascinating
dichotomy to him. To a person, every Buraskii he had
interacted with was highly analytical, extremely precise in speech, and at
first glance reserved in manner. Yet at the same time, he could sense an
undercurrent of high emotion, an energy that emanated from each of them. When
speaking of medical matters, the conversations, though highly technical, were
also marked by a certain passion. The speakers often became animated as the
conversation went on and used touch to emphasize their points. Spock found
himself envying those he interacted with for the ease with which they blended
the different aspects of their personality. It was something he continued to
struggle with, even after many years.
Spock had insisted that the delegation
consist of senior medical personnel. Starfleet had agreed, sending twenty of
their best researchers and specialists from a variety of Federation medical
schools. He was gratified to observe frequent interaction between the Buraskii and his people. Interactions characterized by a
high level of professional excitement as the healers exchanged ideas, theories,
and favorite treatments and cures. There was little of the awkwardness
generally present at diplomatic exchanges. When this mission was over, he would
have to send a memo commending Starfleet on its selections.
He looked out over the crowds again, trying
to pinpoint Dotura's location. She was off near where
the orchestra would eventually play, engaged in an intense conversation with
one of his researchers. He turned back to McCoy. "The Chief Healer seems
quite fascinated by Dr. Zarthakh. I believe I am safe
for now, Doctor."
A quietly amused voice joined the
conversation, "Safe from what?"
Spock felt an illogical pang of emotion as he
turned to look at the newcomer. "Dr. Chapel, how is the evening
progressing?"
"You didn't answer the question, and
fine." Christine smiled back at Spock.
He had not expected her to be included in the
delegation, had not seen her for some time. He had even felt some trepidation
when he saw her name on the list. But since she arrived he had realized he had
underestimated both her professional knowledge and her interpersonal skills.
Her medical knowledge, both research and applied, made her a welcome addition
to any exchange. And she had won the Buraskii over
with her charm and quiet manner.
Christine had been invited for private
dinners to many of her counterpart's homes. Spock had accompanied her on
several of these visits and was impressed with how easily she fit into the new
environment. Despite being one of the junior members of the team, she had
become Spock's de facto deputy, often bringing him vital pieces of information
that she had garnered through her personal contacts.
"The general mood is excellent. The
healers are very excited about having a permanent cultural exchange with us
once the agreement is signed. And they do expect the agreement to be signed. Dotura has been championing it to the High Council, and no
glitches are expected." She scanned the crowd for a moment. "I see
the Chief Healer has abandoned you for Dr. Zarthakh."
"So it would seem." Spock ignored McCoy's snort. "Have you
eaten yet, Doctor?"
McCoy started to answer and Spock stopped him
with a look. "Since you are holding a plate of remnants, Doctor, it is
obvious you have eaten. I was addressing Dr. Chapel."
McCoy just laughed, "Didn't want to eat
with you anyway, Spock. I've got a date with a certain touch therapist. Don't
wait up for me."
As McCoy left them, Spock inclined his head.
"Shall we?" When Christine smiled in assent, he felt a surge of
satisfaction as well as another emotion, harder to categorize. He analyzed the
feeling for a moment and identified it as anticipation.
*********************************************
Spock led the way to the buffet table that
had been set out near the gardens. As he and Christine maneuvered through the
crowd, he caught the eye of McCoy, who was sitting quite close to an attractive
Buraskii. Spock ignored the wink McCoy threw at him
but he heard Christine chuckle behind him. A few steps later they passed Dotura and Zarthakh also sitting
very close. As he continued on, he turned to speak to Christine and caught the
end of Dotura's wink to her. Turning back around he resisted the impulse to comment and heard Christine
chuckle again.
At the buffet they filled their plates with Buraskii and Federation delicacies. It was apparent that
their hosts were trying to make all feel welcome. Christine stopped at the
beverage table to get a glass of the local specialty. "Do you want some latha, Spock," she asked innocently. Spock surprised
her and himself by saying yes. They had served the drink at several dinners,
and while it was delicious it was also quite potent. He had limited himself to
just a few sips but now decided to take one of the very large formal glasses.
He glanced at the tables nearest to them; most were filled with people
obviously having a very good and loud time. Out in the gardens there were other
tables set up in a way to encourage quieter--Spock avoided thinking the word
intimate--discussion. He could tell Christine was surprised when he led her to
one of these tables.
"Spock, you're the head of our
delegation, shouldn't you be mingling? Out there, I mean. With
the rest of the people?"
"Would you prefer that arrangement to
this?" he asked quite seriously. He had picked a table near a small
fountain under one of the many Buraskii trees. Small white flowers fragranced the whole area. Spock tasted
his latha. "I do not believe we have really
talked in some time."
Christine laughed and then cut it short when
he looked offended. "I'm sorry, Spock, but I don't believe we've ever
really talked at all." She gave him a gentle smile to soften the words.
"No, I suppose we have not. That, I have
come to see, is my great loss." Spock could see her react to his words,
surprise written on her face. Then she smiled again, the serene and confident
smile she seemed to wear so often now. A smile he realized that he had come to
treasure. "You have changed since we last served together."
"You mean other than the hair
color," she joked.
"Yes," he agreed. Then he looked at
her with some concern, "Is it required to comment on your hair? Human
females appear to value such discussion?"
"We don't have to discuss my hair color,
Spock. And you're right, I have changed, I think."
"You appear to have found peace?"
"I have, ever since I returned to Earth,
got back into medical research. It was always what I wanted to do. From the time I was little, I dreamed of
being in medicine. When the kids all played doctor, well I really was...playing
doctor." She laughed at his puzzled look. "Trust me when I say that
explaining that would be a long story."
"We appear to have plenty of time,"
Spock offered.
"Ask McCoy sometime how he *played
doctor* when he was young. I'm sure you will find it fascinating. What I was
getting at was that I had always had this goal to be a doctor, and in school I
discovered how much I loved research. I was exactly where I wanted to be. I was
practically finished when Roger was lost. I didn't stop to think. I went over
to Starfleet, qualified for a nursing position, and set out to find him. And I
nearly lost myself in the process. I can't regret the time I spent on the
"So you no longer have those
feelings?" The words were out before he could call them back. They stared
at each other for a moment, lost in the uncomfortable sensation of arriving
somewhere that neither had intended to go. A familiar laugh jolted them both
back to reality. Spock looked around nervously for Dotura,
but though he could hear her, she was not in view.
"You can relax about her, you
know," Christine assured him. At his confused look, she continued.
"Spock, she's been having a torrid affair with Zarthakh
practically since we arrived. She only pretended to be interested in you."
She saw that she was not convincing him. "She was afraid that you would
send him away. That you would disapprove. So she diverted your attention by
pretending to be interested in you. And I think she enjoyed seeing you squirm.
She is quite devious in case you didn't realize."
"Why would she think I would disapprove?
And how do you know all of this?"
"Dotura and I
have become quite good friends. She told me about her relationship with Zarthakh many weeks ago. But she wanted me to keep it from
you. To those who don't know you, you are rather...well...stiff. Forbidding. Disapproving."
He was surprised to find himself irritated
with this assessment. "And you, do you find me disapproving?"
"Spock, I saw you right after you
dropped out of the Kolinahr school,
remember? You're like a teddy bear compared to that."
"That is an evasive answer. Do you think
me cold?"
Christine was saved from answering by the
breathless arrival of Dotura. She was laughing as she
ran up to her friend and whispered something in her ear that made Christine
grin. Dotura looked over at Spock's unamused look and said coyly, "Ah, the delegation head
is annoyed with me? Will you not forgive me my little deception?"
"I doubt that I have much choice, chief
healer. I do need your assistance to get the trade agreement signed."
Dotura pouted and leaned over to Christine, "The
dancing is just starting and I expect to see you out there! If *he* won't
dance, find someone else. I happen to know there are several nice Buraskii doctors that would love to spend more time with
you." Gathering up her dignity and with a final "hmmppff"
of faux disdain, Dotura went back to the party.
"She is quite dramatic," Spock
observed.
Christine laughed in agreement. "She
means no harm, Spock. She's had a lot of latha and
she is drowning in her own happiness. Ignore her."
"I believe that would be the prudent
thing to do. But something she said is I think you
would say bothering me." Spock leaned forward, capturing Christine's gaze
with his.
She tried to look away and failed. "What
would that be," she asked quietly.
Spock leaned in, "She said that there
were many men waiting to dance with you. I disapprove of that."
Christine couldn't hide her surprise,
"Why?"
Spock slid out of his chair and stood over
her. "Because I intended to dance with you."
She sat stunned until he reached out to her
to help her up. "You want to dance with me?"
His eyebrow rose quizzically. "I believe
that is what I said, Doctor."
"Call me Christine."
He nodded. "Christine, will you dance
with me?"
She suddenly smiled at him, a smile he felt
in every part of his body. "Yes, Spock, I'll dance with you."
He pressed on, "All night?"
She swallowed, "Every dance?"
He found himself intensely interested in her
answer. "Unless you wish to sit some out?"
"Oh," she was stunned. "Well,
yes, that would be an acceptable arrangement."
"Excellent," he said, as he led her
off to join the rest of the dancers.
******************************************************
Spock and Christine had barely started
dancing, when the music stopped. A man made his way up to the orchestra dais
and they recognized the head of the High Council. "Esteemed ones, honored
guests, I have an announcement to make." A hush fell over the crowd.
"It is with great pleasure that I can say that the council unanimously
approved the trade agreement with the Federation. If it is agreeable to the
head of the Federation delegation, I would like to sign the agreement now,
before too much more latha has been enjoyed."
The crowd laughed at this, and Spock went to
join him on stage. "Today is a historic day," the councilman said as
he approved the agreement on the pad.
Spock added his approval and said,
"Indeed a great day for both our people." The crowd erupted into
applause.
Making his way back to Christine, Spock
passed by Dotura. She stopped him with a gentle
touch. "Thank you for all that you have done for us, Spock." He bowed
his head in reply. Dotura smiled back, "I won't
keep you, someone is waiting."
"Wait a cotton-pickin'
minute, Spock." McCoy came from the crowd to stand in front of Spock.
"I think you could spend a little bit of time showing just one iota of
appreciation for the work that we've done, especially Christine. Not every one
is an unemotional, green-blooded, what?" he trailed off as Dotura frantically tried to stop his diatribe.
"Spock was just leaving, he was
dancing..." she looked at him meaningfully.
"Spock. Was dancing.
With someone? Spock?"
"Yes," Dotura
replied with a menacing glance, "and I'm sure he wants to get back to his
partner." She practically pulled McCoy off his feet in her haste to get
him away from Spock. He turned around a moment later and saw Spock make his way
to Christine. They started dancing.
"Well, I'll be damned," he smiled
broadly. Seeing his date watching him fondly, he walked over to her. "My
dear, I have just seen something that I've been hoping to see for some time. I
think this calls for a drink, preferably a couple, and
preferably in private. Do you have any ideas?" He laughed as she snagged a
bottle of latha from a passing waiter and dragged him
off to her quarters.
Spock was feeling ambivalent about the
finalization of the trade agreement. He was gratified that they had arrived at
a mutually satisfying resolution, but found himself
sorry that the negotiations were over. As he danced with Christine, he realized
that he might not see her again for some time. And he realized that this
thought made him unhappy. "Christine, I want to express my gratitude for
all you have done. You were instrumental in the success of this mission."
"I enjoyed it here, Spock. Everything
about this mission has been satisfying."
"Yes, satisfying." He could not
ignore how it felt to hold Christine in his arms. How it would feel not to have
her near. "You will return to Starbase 14 with the others tomorrow?"
He felt her nod. Holding her, he could sense her emotions. She was sad.
"And then back to Earth?"
Christine said. "Back
to work. I'll miss this place. And you. I've
enjoyed getting to know you, Spock. All those years on the
"Nor I, you." He felt the rush of her emotion and pulled her
closer.
"Maybe we'll get another mission
together? Who knows?" Christine decided to change the subject before she
betrayed her own emotions, "Spock, you dance really well. I guess I'm
surprised."
"My mother insisted I learn. She and my
father had many discussions over this. She finally emerged victorious by
convincing him that ballroom dancing was a lost cultural art. A thing practically sacred to her people."
"A lie."
"An exaggeration. In any event, she taught me to dance. Although I must
admit, I have never really put her lessons to use until now. I felt some
uncertainty as to my skill level."
"You don't have to worry about that,
Spock. You're doing fine."
Feeling unaccountably pleased by her comment,
Spock dared, "Perhaps it is because I am dancing with you." She
didn't respond, but he felt her hand tighten around his neck.
They danced in silence for a while. Spock
pulled her closer and Christine tucked her head into his shoulder. "You
smell like the white flowers we sat by tonight," he said.
"They make a perfume from them. Dotura gave me a bottle. It is intoxicating, I think."
He moved his head till he was whispering in
her ear. "As a Vulcan I can only give an honest assessment. The perfume is
pleasing. You are intoxicating."
He felt her stiffen in his arms. He could
suddenly sense very real distress coming from her.
"Christine, you think that I could not
be serious about such a thing. I can sense your confusion. And I can sense your
attraction. Can you not sense mine as well? Why have my words upset you?"
She tried to pull away but he held her.
"Spock, is it the latha? This does not seem like
you. It is sudden and unexpected. Not unwelcome but ... you see I wanted this
for so long ... and I had to give it up and now you are saying this
and..."
She trailed off. He could feel her
conflicting emotion.
"I did not mean to distress you. I have
said what I wanted to say. I will not rush you into anything."
"So this is not a matter of some
urgency?" She looked down, then back up at him. Quietly, almost inaudibly,
she continued, "If this is the Pon Farr you
should know I would do anything in my power to help you. I would only ask that
you not pretend to feel something you don't."
He realized he should have expected this
reaction. He was only slightly less surprised than she was at his overtures to
her. "It is not the Pon Farr nor will it be for
some time. I say the things I do probably because the latha
has gone to my head and it is giving me the freedom to speak, to say what I
have been thinking...and feeling...for weeks. Perhaps I have not made clear how
this time on Burask has made me appreciate you, made
me realize that I should have taken more time to get to know you when we were
both on the
Realizing that they had stopped dancing, he
pulled her back into the movement. He still felt her hesitation.
"Christine, do you trust me?"
She was silent for a moment, then whispered back, "Yes."
"I can let you feel what I am feeling.
Not as in a bond. But we are touching and if I lower my mental shields, you
will be able to judge for yourself what I feel. Do you want to do this?"
"We can do it right here?" He could
feel her hope, the longer they were dancing the more
of her emotions he could feel. They were strong but curiously they did not
repel him.
"It will take but a second. Just keep
dancing." And he dropped his shields and purposefully projected his
thoughts and feelings along the same conduit that was feeding him hers. For a
few seconds she was helpless in the emotions that bombarded her. His respect
for her medical skills, his admiration of the way she had handled this
assignment, his gratitude for all the help she had provided to him. And finally
his affection for her, a new thing, fragile in its way. She could destroy it if
she wanted, he was offering that to her. He felt the moment that she quit
doubting, when she allowed joy to emerge. Just before he raised his barriers he
sent her one last thought, "I prefer your hair this color."
Christine, despite the overwhelming emotions
that were battering her, laughed. Spock's hand tightened on hers as he felt her
delight. He could also feel some lingering uncertainty. He sensed that she
could not bring herself to ask him what the next step would be.
"I am coming to Earth next month. I have
a meeting with Starfleet command to discuss a teaching position at the academy.
I have some leave saved. If you would like to spend some time together, I can
arrange my schedule to accommodate it."
She pulled away long enough to look at him.
His eyes were tender and she suddenly had to fight back tears. He sensed her
emotion and pulled her tightly back into his arms.
"That would be acceptable," she
replied.
"Excellent," Spock replied with
much satisfaction.
FIN