Human, s/u, s/g friendship, 1/7, prompt #25
Pairing: Spock/Uhura, Spock/Gaila/dictionary friendship (yeah, friendship people)
Summary: It only takes them three years, two hundred fifty-nine days and eight-point-five-sixths of an hour to get it right.
Rating: PG-13 (for mentions of nudity - there's an Orion in this story so...)
Author's Note: Response to Prompt #25: “Lost in Translation” (Apoptygma Berzerk). I also gave my betas a break so uh, please give me one. :)
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by those associated with Star Trek. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Chapter 1 - An Agreement on Terms
The late afternoon light filtering through the window was weak and the young Orion had to lean close to the glass to make out the small font of the well-worn dictionary gripped tightly in her left hand. She needed a distraction from the uncomfortable feeling she was experiencing - her stomach was lurching as though an energy wave was rippling through it. She had paged through the beginning of the volume, knowing that the Terran word she was looking for wouldn’t be there but she was still on the As. She squinted as the sun tilted even lower in the sky. The top of the page now read “access.” She flipped a few more pages and perused the column of words. Usually, she would use the middle finger of her other hand to help her scan the minute font but her right arm was currently occupied with clutching her rebelling stomach. “Ad nausem,” she read out loud. “To a sickening or excessive deg - uh!.”
She groaned as her stomach hit warp twelve and lowered the book so she could grab her mid-section with both arms. “Well, that’s true enough but I wasn’t looking for a modifier.”
“I believe the noun you are looking for is nausea,” a voice supplied.
“A stomach distress with distaste for food and an urge to vomit,” Gaila recited without looking at the dictionary or at the speaker. “That sounds about right.”
“Thanks,” she added as an afterthought.
“No thanks is necessary,” the other person replied as he stepped closer. The tips of his boots edged into Gaila’s downward line-of-sight. This view was soon replaced by a steaming cup. “I suggest you drink this.”
Gaila eyed the offering with caution. The last time anyone here gave her anything she ended up like this. She tried to tilt her head up to get a look at her attendant, but her stomach gave another lurch and she had to close her eyes. She was a woman of instinct so she had to trust it now. The man’s voice sounded even and calm, though not quite kindly like that of the fatherly trader who had taken her in as a young girl. Still, the warm vapors of the drink seemed to be settling her stomach already. With effort, Gaila reached out for the mug. “What is this?” she sighed as she inhaled.
“A special Vulcan tea blend. It induces tranquility.”
“A Vulcan…?” Gaila’s eyes snapped open. The slanted eyebrows, the severe haircut and the emotionless façade were unmistakable. “Huh…a Vulcan.” She could not help lick her lips as she looked him up and down. “Nice,” she said, drawing out the word.
Spock suppressed a sigh. He never did something as undignified as sigh but he was always tempted to. Though he had been a resident of Earth for 3.11 years by now, the number of salacious looks he received from fellow cadets and officers continued to amaze him. It was a wonder that some species could carry on and advance the way they did when they were so preoccupied with physical relationships. “Cadet, do you always vocalize your thoughts?”
Gaila did not blush but rather, smiled at her indiscretion. After all, she was who she was. “Yeah,” she said nodding. “My clan mother used to scold me for thinking out loud. She said I could reveal secrets and place myself at a disadvantage by being so careless. But I think best when I can work through my thought processes vocally. In any case, most traders don’t speak Orion and even if they did, what are pheromones for anyway?”
The Vulcan blinked in response. Gaila supposed this was the equivalent to a shocked expression on most other humanoid species. “I would advise you to control this habit,” he said after a moment.
“Vulcans would,” she replied as she took a sip of tea. The liquid was still hot and burned the roof of her mouth. “Oh sweet Zeos, that hurts!” she muttered in Akritirian.
Fascinating. He did not speak Akritirian but he recognized the curse. His second-year roommate had made it his goal to learn unsavory words and phrases in every possible non-Terran language he could manage. Spock did not see the logic of pursuing such an unmanageable and unfocused goal but he did admire Brian’s tenacity. At this time, it had become unexpectedly useful in identifying an unknown exclamation. It made him wonder though what motivated the Orion to learn Akritirian - its speakers were from a planet located in the Delta Quadrant, far away from where Orion was in the Beta Quadrant. However, Spock did not ask her, only registering his curiosity with a raised eyebrow.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would say you were amused,” she exhaled.
Spock cocked his head to the side as he regarded her. They should probably start. It was his error that he had failed to introduce himself properly. He remedied this by simply stating, “It is Lieutenant Spock.”
Gaila had been given a quick lesson in Starfleet etiquette prior to her arrival so she knew what he meant. She came to attention and clipped out, “Yes, sir.” But before she was quite finished, she was tilting over, her stomach protesting her decision to stand. He moved forward, swiftly and smoothly grabbing the mug of hot tea in one hand and steadying her with his other hand on her arm. Gently, he lowered her back into her chair before presenting her with the cup again.
“Thanks again,” she mumbled. “Sir,” she added as she looked up at him.
Spock nodded and stepped back, straightened and then moved his hands behind his back. “You did not have to stand, Cadet. I was merely introducing myself. I assume your nausea is a side effect of the pheromone-inhibiting injection Starfleet Command insisted upon.”
“Yeah,” Gaila nodded but immediately regretted her decision to even move her head. “I told them I could handle my pheromones myself.”
“It is a common misconception amongst other species that Orions cannot.”
“It is an excuse to justify their own actions.”
He frowned, thinking about how he should proceed given her opinion on the matter. He did not necessarily disagree with her but he could not wholly agree with her either. There was just too much bias on both sides for him to come to a satisfactory conclusion. He settled on saying that much. “Possibly, Cadet, but there is not enough available data for an accurate assessment.”
“Convenient, isn’t it, Lieutenant?” Gaila snorted before she was forced to clutch her stomach again.
“Well, it seems these injections would be inconvenient for you,” Spock mused as he observed her. “I will speak to the Academic Board on your behalf. Perhaps they can persuade Command to change their decision.”
“Really?” Gaila looked up at his stoic face. “Who are you, by the way?”
“Lieutenant Spock.”
“Yes, you mentioned that but why are you here and not a medic?” She took a drink of the tea in her hands. Stomach down to warp ten perhaps.
“I was instructed to come here. I can only assume that you are Cadet Gaila, my new…” Spock hesitated. Two days ago, Admiral Archer had stopped him as he was exiting a meeting with Captain Pike and asked him to mentor a new cadet. That is, ask was the word the Admiral used. Command was how Spock interpreted it. Humans and their euphemisms. ‘I think you two would be a good fit,’ Archer had said and walked off, only to shout over his shoulder. ‘I’ll have my secretary send you the info.’ The info turned out to be a single name, a room number, and a date and time. And when he had arrived, he had found a sick Orion bowed over in a hard back chair. He had immediately called the medic he had seen leaving the room and inquired about her state. Learning about the injection, he decided a cup of tea was in order. “Charge” was the word Spock finally settled on.
He watched as Gaila opened her eyes wide. She seemed to think this situation was as absurd as he did. It was unfortunate that Starfleet Command did not agree.
“Wait a second!” she exclaimed, waving an arm. “YOU are my mentor - the one who is supposed to guide me through the human environment here at Starfleet. YOU! You’re a Vulcan!”
He feared as much. Orions were even more emotional than humans. “While I agree this arrangement is misguided -”
“Uh, deranged?” Gaila interrupted. “I am the first Orion ever to enter the Academy, I have had minimal contact with humans, I was promised a guide to human behavior since Starfleet is infested with humans and instead, they inject me with some drug that inhibits my natural processes, that gives me nausea, and then to add insult to injury, they give me a VULCAN?”
Gaila had started to stand as she raged on, forgetting about her pain, but the moment she was on her feet again, she wavered and collapsed against Spock’s chest. “Ow, that’s hard.” She sniffed, “You smell nice.”
Orions, Spock thought, freely rolling his eyes since no one could see him.
“Cadet Gaila, smelling me is inappropriate.”
“According to humans or according to Vulcans?” she asked, looking up.
“I have only seen domesticated animals sniff each other.”
“Okay, fair enough,” Gaila said as she backed up and fell more than sat in her chair. “I apologize, Lieutenant, but this has been a disorientating experience.”
“No pun intended, I suspect?” Spock asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Are you trying to be funny?” Gaila retorted, squinting up at him. She thought he actually was. She had never known Vulcans to be intentionally funny before. “What is the logic of it?”
“To relieve tension,” Spock supplied.
“Well, of course you would have a logical answer, wouldn’t you? So, Guide-to-Human-Life, now what?”
“First, we shall get you settled in your quarters. Then, I will talk to the Academic Board about your medication. I agree that pheromone-inhibiting injections are unnecessary when you can self-regulate and moreover, have an incentive to self-regulate. During that conference, I will also suggest that they reassign you to a human mentor. I apologize - I would have done this before if I had realized you were non-human like me and my role as mentor was as you described. I must warn you, however, that Starfleet has a…tendency to stand their ground on matters already decided.”
“Humph, I bet. Wonder why they gave me you anyway?”
“I can only conjecture.” Sometimes, he did wonder how Command could be so obtuse but he kept these thoughts to himself. There was no reason to present such a disparaging image of Starfleet to a literally green cadet. He was the son of a diplomat and he would acquit himself as such. “However,” he continued, leaning his head to the side. He had found this posture made others feel more comfortable around him, though he had not tried this method on an Orion before. “It seems likely that they believed you would feel more at ease with a non-human as your guide. Even though I may not be the best guide with regards to human behavior, it would be reasonable for them to believe you would relate to a fellow alien.”
“Suurre, I can agree with that, but…” Gaila gestured between them and Spock knew what she would say. He was thinking the same thing. “Vulcans and Orions! I mean, the only thing we share is the Beta Quadrant. We’re on opposite ends of the spectrum. We’re like Earth day and night. Look at your hair. Look at my hair.” Gaila grabbed a handful of her fire-red curls for emphasis. “I can trade on my hair. You can only offend with yours.”
“Are you quite done, Cadet?” Spock had the impression that he would need to mediate at least 14.8 minutes longer than usual.
“Pheromones are my greatest assets. Do you even have pheromones? What were they trying to do? Create sexy logic?”
Spock felt his lip twitch at her remark, as outlandish as it was. “Cadet, as I have said before, this arrangement was poorly construed but those at Command are…so…” How could he even be diplomatic about this?
“Human,” they said at the same time.
They paused and looked at each other, surprised that they agreed. Gaila smiled. She thought even if she were stuck with Spock, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He did smell nice. She laughed - she couldn’t believe she managed to keep that to herself. She was learning.
Nyota arrives the next chapter! Stay tuned!
Summary: It only takes them three years, two hundred fifty-nine days and eight-point-five-sixths of an hour to get it right.
Rating: PG-13 (for mentions of nudity - there's an Orion in this story so...)
Author's Note: Response to Prompt #25: “Lost in Translation” (Apoptygma Berzerk). I also gave my betas a break so uh, please give me one. :)
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by those associated with Star Trek. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Chapter 1 - An Agreement on Terms
The late afternoon light filtering through the window was weak and the young Orion had to lean close to the glass to make out the small font of the well-worn dictionary gripped tightly in her left hand. She needed a distraction from the uncomfortable feeling she was experiencing - her stomach was lurching as though an energy wave was rippling through it. She had paged through the beginning of the volume, knowing that the Terran word she was looking for wouldn’t be there but she was still on the As. She squinted as the sun tilted even lower in the sky. The top of the page now read “access.” She flipped a few more pages and perused the column of words. Usually, she would use the middle finger of her other hand to help her scan the minute font but her right arm was currently occupied with clutching her rebelling stomach. “Ad nausem,” she read out loud. “To a sickening or excessive deg - uh!.”
She groaned as her stomach hit warp twelve and lowered the book so she could grab her mid-section with both arms. “Well, that’s true enough but I wasn’t looking for a modifier.”
“I believe the noun you are looking for is nausea,” a voice supplied.
“A stomach distress with distaste for food and an urge to vomit,” Gaila recited without looking at the dictionary or at the speaker. “That sounds about right.”
“Thanks,” she added as an afterthought.
“No thanks is necessary,” the other person replied as he stepped closer. The tips of his boots edged into Gaila’s downward line-of-sight. This view was soon replaced by a steaming cup. “I suggest you drink this.”
Gaila eyed the offering with caution. The last time anyone here gave her anything she ended up like this. She tried to tilt her head up to get a look at her attendant, but her stomach gave another lurch and she had to close her eyes. She was a woman of instinct so she had to trust it now. The man’s voice sounded even and calm, though not quite kindly like that of the fatherly trader who had taken her in as a young girl. Still, the warm vapors of the drink seemed to be settling her stomach already. With effort, Gaila reached out for the mug. “What is this?” she sighed as she inhaled.
“A special Vulcan tea blend. It induces tranquility.”
“A Vulcan…?” Gaila’s eyes snapped open. The slanted eyebrows, the severe haircut and the emotionless façade were unmistakable. “Huh…a Vulcan.” She could not help lick her lips as she looked him up and down. “Nice,” she said, drawing out the word.
Spock suppressed a sigh. He never did something as undignified as sigh but he was always tempted to. Though he had been a resident of Earth for 3.11 years by now, the number of salacious looks he received from fellow cadets and officers continued to amaze him. It was a wonder that some species could carry on and advance the way they did when they were so preoccupied with physical relationships. “Cadet, do you always vocalize your thoughts?”
Gaila did not blush but rather, smiled at her indiscretion. After all, she was who she was. “Yeah,” she said nodding. “My clan mother used to scold me for thinking out loud. She said I could reveal secrets and place myself at a disadvantage by being so careless. But I think best when I can work through my thought processes vocally. In any case, most traders don’t speak Orion and even if they did, what are pheromones for anyway?”
The Vulcan blinked in response. Gaila supposed this was the equivalent to a shocked expression on most other humanoid species. “I would advise you to control this habit,” he said after a moment.
“Vulcans would,” she replied as she took a sip of tea. The liquid was still hot and burned the roof of her mouth. “Oh sweet Zeos, that hurts!” she muttered in Akritirian.
Fascinating. He did not speak Akritirian but he recognized the curse. His second-year roommate had made it his goal to learn unsavory words and phrases in every possible non-Terran language he could manage. Spock did not see the logic of pursuing such an unmanageable and unfocused goal but he did admire Brian’s tenacity. At this time, it had become unexpectedly useful in identifying an unknown exclamation. It made him wonder though what motivated the Orion to learn Akritirian - its speakers were from a planet located in the Delta Quadrant, far away from where Orion was in the Beta Quadrant. However, Spock did not ask her, only registering his curiosity with a raised eyebrow.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would say you were amused,” she exhaled.
Spock cocked his head to the side as he regarded her. They should probably start. It was his error that he had failed to introduce himself properly. He remedied this by simply stating, “It is Lieutenant Spock.”
Gaila had been given a quick lesson in Starfleet etiquette prior to her arrival so she knew what he meant. She came to attention and clipped out, “Yes, sir.” But before she was quite finished, she was tilting over, her stomach protesting her decision to stand. He moved forward, swiftly and smoothly grabbing the mug of hot tea in one hand and steadying her with his other hand on her arm. Gently, he lowered her back into her chair before presenting her with the cup again.
“Thanks again,” she mumbled. “Sir,” she added as she looked up at him.
Spock nodded and stepped back, straightened and then moved his hands behind his back. “You did not have to stand, Cadet. I was merely introducing myself. I assume your nausea is a side effect of the pheromone-inhibiting injection Starfleet Command insisted upon.”
“Yeah,” Gaila nodded but immediately regretted her decision to even move her head. “I told them I could handle my pheromones myself.”
“It is a common misconception amongst other species that Orions cannot.”
“It is an excuse to justify their own actions.”
He frowned, thinking about how he should proceed given her opinion on the matter. He did not necessarily disagree with her but he could not wholly agree with her either. There was just too much bias on both sides for him to come to a satisfactory conclusion. He settled on saying that much. “Possibly, Cadet, but there is not enough available data for an accurate assessment.”
“Convenient, isn’t it, Lieutenant?” Gaila snorted before she was forced to clutch her stomach again.
“Well, it seems these injections would be inconvenient for you,” Spock mused as he observed her. “I will speak to the Academic Board on your behalf. Perhaps they can persuade Command to change their decision.”
“Really?” Gaila looked up at his stoic face. “Who are you, by the way?”
“Lieutenant Spock.”
“Yes, you mentioned that but why are you here and not a medic?” She took a drink of the tea in her hands. Stomach down to warp ten perhaps.
“I was instructed to come here. I can only assume that you are Cadet Gaila, my new…” Spock hesitated. Two days ago, Admiral Archer had stopped him as he was exiting a meeting with Captain Pike and asked him to mentor a new cadet. That is, ask was the word the Admiral used. Command was how Spock interpreted it. Humans and their euphemisms. ‘I think you two would be a good fit,’ Archer had said and walked off, only to shout over his shoulder. ‘I’ll have my secretary send you the info.’ The info turned out to be a single name, a room number, and a date and time. And when he had arrived, he had found a sick Orion bowed over in a hard back chair. He had immediately called the medic he had seen leaving the room and inquired about her state. Learning about the injection, he decided a cup of tea was in order. “Charge” was the word Spock finally settled on.
He watched as Gaila opened her eyes wide. She seemed to think this situation was as absurd as he did. It was unfortunate that Starfleet Command did not agree.
“Wait a second!” she exclaimed, waving an arm. “YOU are my mentor - the one who is supposed to guide me through the human environment here at Starfleet. YOU! You’re a Vulcan!”
He feared as much. Orions were even more emotional than humans. “While I agree this arrangement is misguided -”
“Uh, deranged?” Gaila interrupted. “I am the first Orion ever to enter the Academy, I have had minimal contact with humans, I was promised a guide to human behavior since Starfleet is infested with humans and instead, they inject me with some drug that inhibits my natural processes, that gives me nausea, and then to add insult to injury, they give me a VULCAN?”
Gaila had started to stand as she raged on, forgetting about her pain, but the moment she was on her feet again, she wavered and collapsed against Spock’s chest. “Ow, that’s hard.” She sniffed, “You smell nice.”
Orions, Spock thought, freely rolling his eyes since no one could see him.
“Cadet Gaila, smelling me is inappropriate.”
“According to humans or according to Vulcans?” she asked, looking up.
“I have only seen domesticated animals sniff each other.”
“Okay, fair enough,” Gaila said as she backed up and fell more than sat in her chair. “I apologize, Lieutenant, but this has been a disorientating experience.”
“No pun intended, I suspect?” Spock asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Are you trying to be funny?” Gaila retorted, squinting up at him. She thought he actually was. She had never known Vulcans to be intentionally funny before. “What is the logic of it?”
“To relieve tension,” Spock supplied.
“Well, of course you would have a logical answer, wouldn’t you? So, Guide-to-Human-Life, now what?”
“First, we shall get you settled in your quarters. Then, I will talk to the Academic Board about your medication. I agree that pheromone-inhibiting injections are unnecessary when you can self-regulate and moreover, have an incentive to self-regulate. During that conference, I will also suggest that they reassign you to a human mentor. I apologize - I would have done this before if I had realized you were non-human like me and my role as mentor was as you described. I must warn you, however, that Starfleet has a…tendency to stand their ground on matters already decided.”
“Humph, I bet. Wonder why they gave me you anyway?”
“I can only conjecture.” Sometimes, he did wonder how Command could be so obtuse but he kept these thoughts to himself. There was no reason to present such a disparaging image of Starfleet to a literally green cadet. He was the son of a diplomat and he would acquit himself as such. “However,” he continued, leaning his head to the side. He had found this posture made others feel more comfortable around him, though he had not tried this method on an Orion before. “It seems likely that they believed you would feel more at ease with a non-human as your guide. Even though I may not be the best guide with regards to human behavior, it would be reasonable for them to believe you would relate to a fellow alien.”
“Suurre, I can agree with that, but…” Gaila gestured between them and Spock knew what she would say. He was thinking the same thing. “Vulcans and Orions! I mean, the only thing we share is the Beta Quadrant. We’re on opposite ends of the spectrum. We’re like Earth day and night. Look at your hair. Look at my hair.” Gaila grabbed a handful of her fire-red curls for emphasis. “I can trade on my hair. You can only offend with yours.”
“Are you quite done, Cadet?” Spock had the impression that he would need to mediate at least 14.8 minutes longer than usual.
“Pheromones are my greatest assets. Do you even have pheromones? What were they trying to do? Create sexy logic?”
Spock felt his lip twitch at her remark, as outlandish as it was. “Cadet, as I have said before, this arrangement was poorly construed but those at Command are…so…” How could he even be diplomatic about this?
“Human,” they said at the same time.
They paused and looked at each other, surprised that they agreed. Gaila smiled. She thought even if she were stuck with Spock, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He did smell nice. She laughed - she couldn’t believe she managed to keep that to herself. She was learning.
Nyota arrives the next chapter! Stay tuned!