Chapter 15
Shran was grinning like a cat that caught the mouse as he showed Gral into the dinning room.
“What is the meaning of this!” demanded Narion, jumping to his feet. Aresa copied her husband, her eyes narrowed in fury.
“What are you talking about grandsire?” Shran had a sickly sweet smile on his face and his voice dripped with sugary venom.
“What are these things doing in this house.”
Gral bristled, and his wife grunted.
“They are joining us for dinner. They’re my guests and friends. And it is my siblings’ and mine house, not yours and so you have no say over who comes and goes in it.” Shran’s voice was like ice, smiles gone. Archer shifted in nervousness, not sure if a fight was about to break out. Narion glared at his grandson who didn’t flinch, then sat down, very slowly. Aresa did the same, although she seemed even more reluctant than her husband. “Gral, Hega, please make yourselves comfortable.”
“In this dump? Not possible.” grunted Gral. Archer stood up to greet the ambassador.
“Gral, you’re looking more foul than the last time we met.”
“Hmph! You look like a scrawny nothing of a man as usual. How Shran didn’t managed to kill you is beyond me.”
Shran gave the tiniest of flinches, but Archer didn’t miss it. It was clear that was still a sore spot for the Andorian.
“Maybe he was still recovering from having to look at your ugly face.”
Gral snorted, but Archer had a feeling that the Tellerite knew he’d overstepped his bounds. The two Tellerites sat down, Gral beside Trip with T'Pol on Hega’s other side. Archer had to admit it was a little hard to tell the difference between male and female with the Tellerites. Shran made a gesture to Senkrad who jumped to his feet and the two brothers left, no doubt to get the first course. Archer wondered if he should have fasted for the day.
Looking up Archer met Lissiel’s eyes and he tried to smile at her, but Lissiel stared back with a stony expression. Archer’s smile fell.
It was rare for Archer to find himself so flummoxed by a woman, Orion pheromones non-withstanding, but Lissiel had been on his mind all day. Archer knew the woman was gorgeous, and judging by the way Gral was shooting glances at her, the Tellerite agreed. She was also intelligent; she’d have to be to be a doctor. And she was fiery, very much so if she enjoyed taking on Shran, with whom Archer often ended up in fights with. The fact that she’d shown up to help T'Pol into her dress told Archer that she was also kind, but didn’t like to show it. In summation, she was the perfect woman to Archer. So why the hell had he been so stupid this morning, telling her it was a mistake.
Lissiel stared at him with all the warmth of a blizzard and then turned to Telev.
“Telev, how long are you planet-side?”
“My ship’s getting a complete overhaul. New systems, upgrades, the works. So about two or three months. Well… two months now. I’ve been planet side for a month now.”
“And are you as antsy as Thy’lek?”
“Well, I am but I enjoy the break.”
“Break from what? There’s barely anything to do for us Guardsmen.” grunted Narion, twirling one of his metal sticks between his fingers. “Not since peace broke out between us and the Tellerites and Vulcans. We’re all just sitting on our antennas.”
“There’s still the Klingons and the Orions.” Melani pointed out.
“Hm, well the Orions are a definite threat, but the Klingons? Everyone knows our relationship with them is one of sibling affection and rivalry.” Telev shrugged.
“There’s too much peace if you ask me.” Narion was scowling.
“How could there be too much peace?” asked T'Pol. She sounded a little breathless, but that may have been the dress.
“When you have a huge army full of strong, determined warriors like the Imperial Guard does, ones who have been raised to fight and kill and hate aliens, peace with said aliens makes them jumpy. Jumpy soldiers are dangerous soldiers.”
“Oh come Narion, you’re exaggerating.” said Ghee, trying to laugh the comment off. Narion’s frown deepened.
“No I’m not! Mark my words, if there isn’t a reason to fight for those soldiers, they’ll go looking for reasons.”
“So what do you suggest we do grandsire?” Shran’s voice was sharp as he came back, tray in hand. “Go and start a war with another species?”
“Not at all. But we can’t just leave them to their own devices. You’re proof of that Thy'lek.”
There was silence. Shran stared at his grandsire, his brown eyes darkening until they almost looked black. Telev’s eyes were wide and Senkrad looked very worried.
Soval slapped the tray of his highchair, the sound making them all jump. Soval giggled and cooed, looking around with a large smile, proud at the sound he’d made and that he’d managed to get all their attention. Shran relaxed and smiled at his son. The tension was gone and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
Shran and Senkrad handed out the deep bowls of soup, making two trips to get them all out and then they sat down. Gral and Hega reached for theirs but Lissiel coughed and shook her head at them, shooting her grandmothers a look. Both Tellerites got the message. The matriarchs of the family had to start the meal off.
Aresa and Tenal picked up their bowls and, with all the air of Japanese royalty, they sipped from their soup. After a beat they nodded, deeming the food acceptable and the other Andorians dug in. The guests followed, feeling uncomfortable with all the formality.
“So, Gral, how’s that litter of yours?”
“They’re well. Our youngest is almost due to deliver her first litter of her own. We were hoping this negotiating would be over with in time for us to return home for the birth. After all, it’s my duty to perform the ‘Plargna Telic’ ritual on them.”
“What’s that ambassador?”
“It’s where we dip them in the sacred mud from the Telic volcano, to ensure that they will be protected from demons that will render them useless arguers. It would be a tragedy if that were to occur.”
“Especially considering your line of work.” smirked Shran.
“Exactly.”
“You submerge newborns in mud? Head to toe?” asked Th’nack, his eyes rather wide.
“Of course. Only for a few moments of course. The head is especially important to protect.”
“The child could suffocate.”
“That’s as common as a Tellerite being bald.”
“In other words it never happens.” chuckled Archer.
“That’s barbaric!” exclaimed Th’nack, sounding genuinely distress for the child’s well being. Archer felt a little better about him.
“So is your tradition of cutting a newborn across the cheek before putting them to their mother’s breast.” said Gral without flinching. T'Pol’s eyes widened and she looked at Shran who shrugged, as if saying ‘What? It’s tradition.’
“That is to prepare them for a hard life ahead of them. We Andorians are a hard people, our world is beautiful and should be loved, but it is not kind to those who are not raised to be strong in it.”
“And I suppose the celebration of birth each year is for the same reasons?”
“That is to symbolise the fight against time. We bear the scars to show we will never give into time.”
“I’m sure a one year old will understand that while you slash it across the back.”
“It’s a flesh wound, and afterwards the child is attended to. And when they are older they have a celebration.”
“Well, I say good luck to Vulcan here when her brat’s birthday comes along. Shran’ll be pushing for the child to be marked.”
“Of course I would, but you’re twisting it Gral! You make it sound like an attack, an attempt to hurt the child. But it’s a tradition, just as you stick your newborns in the mud, or humans circumcise their offspring.”
“Circum-what?”
“I refuse to say now as I think every male here would loose their appetite. Point being that most species have some kind of traditions that other species won't agree with.”
“Like suppress their emotions.” sneered Narion. T'Pol looked up. Trip’s shoulders tensed. “I think most of us here can agree that that tradition is the most… unconceivable of all.”
“Vulcans suppress emotions because we believe that the embracing of logic is the most moral way to live for our people.”
“Humph! You were so self assured that you tried to force your ways onto us.”
“We did no such thing.”
“The Vulcans embrace cultural diversity. They have a saying, ‘Infinite diversity in Infinite Combinations’.” Archer added, not noticing the way Shran and T'Pol shared a look and then both looked at Soval. Trip did and his eyes narrowed. “They would not want to take away from any culture.”
“They would rather enslave them and eradicate them.”
“We would wish no such thing.”
“I suppose then it was for a benevolent reason that you had that monastery spying on us! And what reason was behind Weytahn? Or that recent attempt of an invasion. If it weren’t for my grandson I don’t even want to think of what might have happened.”
Shran’s eyes widened a little when he was pulled into the conversation. Taking a gulp of his soup, he set his empty bowl on the table, and said in a calm voice,
“Without T'Pol and pink-skin I wouldn’t have succeeded in any of those missions.”
Narion narrowed his eyes at Shran who didn’t look away. “You dealt with Tarah without them. Although why you wouldn’t allow the Guard to execute her I’ll never know.”
Shran sighed, “It’s complicated grandsire. I told you I have my reasons.”
“I think you fell in love with Tarah and let your feelings influence you.”
Telev’s antennas were poking forward with great interest. Shran’s cheeks coloured. His voice stayed quiet, and this made Archer nervous.
“I wasn’t in love with Tarah. But I did love her. There’s a difference. I loved her like I loved all of my crew on Kumari and if you don’t understand that grandsire then I might just have figured out why you never got a second command after your first was decommissioned.” Narion looked like he’d been hit in the face.
“You dare talk to your grandsire like that!” demanded Aresa.
“Yes.” Shran stood up. “Everyone done?”
Wordlessly they held their bowls out and Shran and Senkrad took them away. When they left Ghee elbowed Narion hard.
“Why’d you have to bring Tarah up? You know as well as I do that he feels guilty for what she did.”
“He didn’t order her to disobey orders.”
“But he was the one she was always trying to please. You know as well as I do what happens in situations like that. Tarah’s mind got warped until she was obsessed with killing Vulcans, just like Thy'lek once was when he was young.” All four grandparents, Telev and Lissiel all winced at this mention. Archer’s eyebrows were climbing up his brow to meet his hairline. He met T'Pol’s eyes and it was clear she was as confused and concerned as he was. Trip was frowning. Gral and Hega shared a look and said nothing.
Shran and Senkrad returned with plates and set them down. Once again Aresa and Tenal tried it first before everyone else could eat. There was a very uncomfortable silence that no one wanted to try to break. Shran fed Soval some mushy stuff, barely paying his own meal any attention.
A very loud series of knocks made them all jump. Senkrad got to his feet.
“I’ll get it!” and he almost ran out of the room.
“Who could take be?” wondered Melani. The door opened and Senkrad let out a strangled noise. Both Shran and Lissiel rolled their eyes. Simultaneously they said,
“Telk.”
“Telk! What are you doing here?” Senkrad felt like bringing up his meal as he stared at Telk. Telk gave him that lazy smirk that made Senkrad’s legs turn to melted ice. Damn Telk! Why did he always have this effect on Senkrad?
“I came to see you. If you know what I mean.”
“Oh I know but the timing could not be worse.”
“The timing’s always bad according to you.”
“Well this time I mean it! My grandparents are here, and also joining us for dinner are two humans, two Tellerites, my brother’s on and off ex, my sister, who’s very angry at one of the humans for rejecting her, a Vulcan my brother might or might not be attracted to and a little baby boy that belongs to the Vulcan and my brother so… REALLY bad time!”
“Sounds like they’ll be so busy you won’t be missed.”
Senkrad yelped as Telk grabbed him by the front of his new shirt and pulled him outside, pushing him against the now shut door and kissed him hard. Senkrad, stronger thanks to years of hauling himself, equipment and, occasionally, another person up cliffs, managed to push Telk away with one hand, while the other pushed himself away from the door.
“Stop Telk.”
“Can we not do this? Can we just skip the whole scenario where you tell me this isn’t going to happen and I manage to convince you that it will and then it does and afterwards you ask me to leave like a criminal?”
“I don’t ask you to leave like a criminal.”
“Then a ghost or something because you always tell me to leave before your siblings see me. If it weren’t for the fact that I really like you I wouldn’t keep coming back.”
Senkrad faltered at the angry tone Telk was using. It never occurred to him that Telk had been upset by Senkrad’s behaviour.
“You shouldn’t keep coming back. We shouldn’t keep doing this.”
“Oh come on! Not this again. Sen, we’re good when we’re together.”
“And then we fight and break up and then get back together again because I can’t say no to you and you can’t stay away.” Senkrad wished he had his younger brother’s strength and confidence. Thy'lek would have sent Telk running away by now. “It’s bad for both of us Telk. Why can’t you find someone else?”
“Because no one else is like you.”
“Why is that a good thing?”
“Because!”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Oh spirits curse you Senkrad Shran! Why do you have to always drive me out of my mind!” Telk’s hands were curling into fists and he was shaking them in frustration.
“Why do you stop me from saying no? Wait, I know the answer to that. I’m a pushover. I know I am, and I’m fine with that. If I wasn’t a pushover then my siblings and I would have no peace. Being a pushover means I can help my sister and my brother. But I can’t have you taking advantage of it Telk. So go away and don’t come back to me.”
“You have to be joking!”
“I’m not. I’m sorry Telk, but I’ve been using you. And I think you know it.”
“Using me?”
“I’m scared about Thy'lek. I’m terrified that at some point he’ll go over that edge again and this time I won’t be able to save him. I’m scared that he’ll spend the rest of his life in a mental hospital or worse, that he might...”
“Your brother’s fine! He won’t crack because you stop keeping him wrapped in silk and treating him like he’ll shatter at any moment. Your brother’s Commander Shran! He’s unstoppable. He’s tough. He’s-”
“My baby brother that I love. I love him so much that I’m scared I’ll loose him again. You were a distraction from that Telk. I’m sorry but it’s true.”
“But, but…” Telk waved his hand in the air, as if he was trying to grab at words. “You… I…”
“You know I’m right. I use you as a distraction and you use me because you’re scared to go for anyone else.” Senkrad smiled, “The Imperial Guard has spread this imagine of us Andorians being so confident, comfortable and passionate with our mating behaviour, that us Andorians who are a little more reserved about mating feel that we won't find anyone.”
“Yes.” The word was released with a heavy sigh. “Yes, I guess that’s true.”
“You’ll be fine if you stop worrying about it Telk.”
“I’m an Andorian. If I’ve got a bad sex life then that’s cause to worry!” Telk smiled a little, and then sighed. “I suppose I’d better go.”
“I think you should.”
“I’m not coming back.”
“Good.”
“Good. Goodbye Senkrad.”
“Goodbye Telk.”
Telk walked away. Senkrad watched him leave, feeling himself tremble for a moment. All the things he said had been true, he was scared about his brother. It was the reason he’d been sleeping with his old stuffed animal. It reminded him of a time when the wars between Andoria and Teller and Vulcan had meant nothing to him and his siblings, when Thy'lek would climb into his bed if he couldn’t sleep and fall asleep sucking his thumb. Senkrad had never been able to admit that before.
Still shaking Senkrad went back into the house, almost crashing into Thy'lek, who was waiting for him.
One look at Thy'lek’s face told Senkrad that he’d heard everything.
“You should have told me you were scared about me.”
“I have… or I’ve tried, but you always get angry with me. I’m tired of anger and misery.”
“So am I. That’s why I get annoyed whenever you bring it up. Because it reminds me of everything, and I don’t want to remember. I want to look forward, and every time you act like I’m going to shatter it just brings everything back.”
“I don’t mean to-” Senkrad cut himself off when Thy'lek touched his arm. As he did so his sleeve was pulled up a little. Old, faint scars were visible for a moment before Senkrad looked into his brother’s eyes.
“Stop apologising Senkrad. And stop putting us before you. You’re not mama or papa, you’re our brother. We take care of each other.”
“But you just-”
“I didn’t know how hard it was for you. I was being selfish and only thinking about how it was affecting me in relation to you.”
“I don’t get it.”
“I mean, I’d get angry when you brought things like that up and then I’d get angry again because you made me feel guilty because I’d upset you. Does that make sense?”
“A little I suppose.”
“Sen you have to talk to us. I don’t like finding out my brother’s been trying to escape his own life by having sex with someone he doesn’t even like by eavesdropping.”
“I was ashamed.”
“And I’m ashamed of half my life. Since you keep asking me to talk to you, then you have to be able to talk to me.”
“Share the shame.” Senkrad tried to smile but it came out like a grimace. Thy'lek’s antennas drooped a little more. “It’s kind of hard having them here.”
“Tell me about it. I know it’s bad enough for me, but at least they acknowledge me. I hate the way they ignore you!”
“I’m not a great scientist or a head of government, my line of work doesn’t help people to walk or talk again and it certainly doesn’t end two century long wars.”
“Oh who cares! You may not have a job that the world considers remarkable but you’re the one who takes care of us! I may handle the children, but I can’t handle our siblings half as well as you can, and that’s partly because they don’t trust me.”
“They trust you! Whoever said they didn’t?”
“I mean they don’t trust me to not do something stupid. I’ve a history of it! And it always puts our family through torment.”
“Thy'lek-”
“Chasing ice bores and ending up with third degree burns, joining the Guard and being a prisoner of war in a Vulcan torture facility for five years, taking another two years to get home… to say nothing of my choices afterwards. I put our family through hell time and again and without you it would have fallen apart! You were the one who reassured Sanakral to marry Lealion and you were the one who told Sakrana that she was denying her feelings for Ducheddet. Sen, you have kept us all going, after mama and papa died you were the only one who talked to me. After Trenach died you were the one who got me to come out of my room. Senkrad, they haven’t a clue what they are talking about! They are our grandparents and I will love them because of that, but I don’t like them! I don’t like them at all!”
“Thy'lek…” Senkrad’s eyes were wide and he was looking over Thy'lek’s shoulder. Thy'lek looked. Narion stood there, ridged. He wasn’t looking at them, in fact it looked like he’d frozen on the way to the lavatory. Senkrad and Thy'lek watched, wide eyed as Narion lifted his head, swallowed and continued on to the lavatory. The brothers shared a look.
“We need to get the next meal.”
“Right.”
Senkrad watched as his brother set out the fifteen bowls of soup, but his mind kept wandering and Thy'lek noticed.
“Get out of here Sen.”
“What?”
“I said, get out of here.” Thy'lek’s voice was kind, “Go take a walk, go climbing or something. Or shopping. When was the last time you went shopping for anything other than things I send you out for.”
“You shop for me.”
“And that has got to stop. Now go on.”
“But what about-”
“Forget about me. Go on, get out of here so you can clear your head.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive! Now go before I change my mind.” Thy'lek threw a towel at Senkrad, catching him in the face. Senkrad laughed and stood up, tossing the towel back.
“If you're sure. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”
“Take your time.”
When Shran walked into the dinning room he stopped short at what he saw. Narion was holding Soval in his arms, staring at him with fierce concentration. One finger was gently tracing over Soval’s cheek, then his eyebrows and then over one delicately tipped ear. Soval cooed as his antennas wandered over Narion’s neck and shoulders.
Shran noticed T'Pol was watching with a very faint knot between her eyes. She was concerned about this change in attitude. Shran wasn’t. His grandsire would never harm a child. Especially not his great grandchild.
Narion looked up at Shran and Shran didn’t flinch away from the piercing look in his eyes. He knew he’d hurt his grandfather, but he wasn’t about to back down.
“He’s beautiful Thy'lek. He’s perfect.” said Narion, his voice a little choked. Shran nodded,
“He is grandsire. He is.”
Walking over to the table, Shran set down the plates he was carrying. Then he turned to his grandsire, wondering what he would say now. Narion sighed,
“This child defies convention and Andorian ways in many ways. He is yours, but you did not have a hand in creating him.”
“Neither did T'Pol.”
“True… and I suppose, since convention has already been abandoned, there is no point in trying to push other conventions on either of you.” Narion passed Soval to Shran, who held him close and smiled a little when Soval rested his little head on his shoulder. “We do not want to cause any misery in this house.”
Shran nodded his head, giving his grandsire the barest of smiles. He appreciated what Narion was trying to do, but it wouldn’t change how he felt overnight. Narion nodded and sat down. There was silence for a moment, and then Narion got a wicked smirk on his face and his turned to his granddaughter.
“So tell me Lissiel, what has Archer done to anger you so?”
Archer’s face went crimson and Lissiel took a deep breath as she began to explain what he’d done. Shran chuckled, gave Soval to T'Pol and went to get the rest of the meal, making a mental note to bring out the ale. Now that the ice had been broken, and his grandsire would make sure the other three loosened up as well, things would improve… or get worse. It was never certain with his grandparents.
“All in all I think this has been a remarkably pleasant evening.” said Melani, smiling as they began the dessert.
“Once certain people took those poles out of their backsides.” grinned Ghee, now seated beside his wife. One of his hands was wandering through Melani’s long blonde and silver streaked hair and they were sharing affectionate looks.
“Yes well… it is our obligation as their grandparents to cause unrest.” said Aresa, now leaning back in her chair, holding Narion’s hand on the table. Her cheeks were very faintly flushed from all the ale she’d been drinking. Narion had Soval in his lap and was playing some kind of fingers and toes game with the babe that had them both laughing. Th’nack and Tenal were talking with Gral and his wife about their respective families, Gral letting out booming laughs to signify that one of the Andorians had let slip something the Tellerite would be able to use to blackmail Shran later on again. Shran had given up trying to stop them.
“Where’s Sen!” exclaimed Tenal, looking around. “He’s been gone a while.”
“Only two hours grandmamma!” laughed Lissiel, “Honestly you’re so oblivious sometimes.”
“Two hours? Well what in the name of the spirits could he be doing.”
“I believe it involves himself, Telk, a horizontal surface of some kind and very little clothing.”
Trip choked on his drink and began to laugh. Archer tried to hide his own amusement, but he wasn’t succeeding.
“He’s stopped seeing Telk actually.” said Shran, “He told him it was over and Telk left. I sent Sen out to take a walk and told him to take his time.”
“Ah, that explains it. I was beginning to wonder.” Tenal looked thoughtful. “That boy… I swear sometimes I don’t know what to expect from him. I mean Lissiel, you have a job that’s steady and regular and we know you’ll eventually settle with a mate. And Thy'lek, well, we expect you to be unpredictable, so we never really have expectations for you. You do what you like and you never apologise for it.”
“A great quality!” cheered Ghee, raising his glass to Shran. Shran returned the gesture with a smirk.
“But Senkrad… he’s both dependable and unpredictable and he doesn’t seem to know what he wants. It worries me sometimes.”
“Sen spends too much time worrying about the rest of us so he doesn’t think about himself enough. He’s too selfless.” said Shran, shaking his head. Then he stretched, hearing a satisfying crack in his back. T'Pol shot him a look and he smirked at her.
“He should try to find a woman to be with. Works out better.” said Th’nack, giving his wife a cheeky wink. Tenal laughed and hit him across the head with a light movement.
“Now grandpapa, that’s not true.” said Shran, “Gender has nothing to do with it. Senkrad just needs to find someone he actually likes.”
Telev lifted his head at this statement and he seemed to be trying to meet Shran’s eyes. Shran didn’t notice, too absorbed in his conversation with his grandpapa and grandmamma. T'Pol did and her eyebrow twitched a little. She’d noticed that Telev had gotten rather quiet, spending much of his time staring at Shran with a curious expression. Shran had been too absorbed in enjoying the sudden light-hearted atmosphere in the room and trying to stop Th'nack and Tenal from telling all his mishaps as a child. Gral’s obvious favourite was when Ghee, Narion and their friend Sloat accidentally got a seven year old Shran drunk by giving him the wrong drink and Shran had decided it would be a fun thing to run through the city naked and singing a rather lewd song that the old men had been singing when they’d thought he was asleep. Needless to say it was a long time before Shran had lived that incident down in the city.
“Hm, I suppose… although I have to say I’m glad I chose my lovely wife! None of the men I ever slept with are anything compared to her.”
“Hey!” Ghee exclaimed, sounding insulted, “I was one of them, remember?”
“Where you? I don’t remember…” Th'nack scrunched his lips and furrowed his brow in thought. Shran burst out laughing,
“Shows how much of an impression you made on my grandpapa, eh, Old Man?”
“Humph!” Ghee tried to look annoyed, but his twinkling eyes gave him away.
T'Pol could not comprehend how Andorians could be so free about their ‘escapades’. To openly discuss that two of the men present, both of which were married, had once had a… relation between them was baffling to her.
T'Pol remembered once thinking that humans were extremely forward in their sexual behaviour. Now it was apparent Humans were only half as bad as Andorians, and of course, Denobulans. Dr. Phlox would have enjoyed this dinner immensely.
Shran got to his feet and said, “I’ll get more drink.” to cheers from most of the table. T'Pol got to her feet and followed him without a word, certain she would not be missed for a few minutes.
“Something wrong T'Pol?” asked Shran as he stuck his head into the large liquor cabinet.
“I just wanted to tell you that tonight has gone better than I had anticipated.”
“I have to agree with you. I mean… I knew that once they’d settled down a little they’d be fine. And when they’d had some alcohol things would improve even more. My grandparents are predictable in one way and unpredictable in another. Still, they seemed to accept you far quicker than I thought they would.”
“Perhaps the dress mollified them.”
Shran snorted, “My grandparents aren’t that taken in by fashion. No. I’d say part of it is they just want to make sure things are good for me and my siblings. Fighting with you would only annoy me. So… no fighting.”
“That is-” T'Pol cut herself off as a wave of dizziness made her stagger a little. Shran grabbed her elbow and looked at her with a frown.
“What’s wrong.”
“I feel dizzy.” T'Pol also realised she was breathless and it only made her head spin more.
“Sit down.” Shran directed her to the couch and helped her sit, sitting beside her. “I’d bet its that dress. It takes a few wears to get used to.”
“Are your formal clothes similar?”
“Mine are male, but if you mean as tight and boning, then yes. It makes even the best of us dizzy at times.”
“Is there anyway to loosen it without removing the dress? The dizziness is not passing.”
“I can loosen it a little, if you’ll let me.”
“Please.” Shran, looking a little unsure of himself, reached out and slipped his hand under the jacket, below the cummerbund. His hand was warm through the silk and T'Pol felt her back stiffen as he ran his fingers over the laces, looking for the knot. When he found it, Shran gave it a few tugs and twists and T'Pol felt the dress loosen a little, and her chest expanded. After a moment the dizziness passed and T'Pol took in a few deep breaths to ensure she would not stumble again.
“That enough?” asked Shran, his voice quiet. T'Pol became aware of how close they were sitting together and of Shran’s hand slowly retreating from under her jacket.
“Yes.”
T'Pol looked Shran straight in the eyes and was intrigued by the curious mixture of hardness, mischief, curiosity, gentleness and cleverness she saw.
When their lips touched neither was sure who’d initiated it but neither pulled away. Both were slow, careful, each following the other’s lead. T'Pol was expecting Shran’s tongue to touch her lips in question and Shran was prepared for her answer to allow him to deepen the kiss. T'Pol leaned towards Shran, while Shran ran one fingertip along the line of her neck. His antennas brushed her hair and T'Pol placed one hand on his shoulder to hold him still. When they parted they stared at each other, neither sure what to say. T'Pol didn’t take her hand away from Shran’s shoulder and Shran’s slightly ragged breathing was ghosting over her lips.
Then they realised they weren’t alone.
Turning towards the door of the dining room, T'Pol met Trip’s darkened blue eyes and Shran met Telev’s sad ones. They stared in shock at them. Then Trip spoke.
“Well… this is a surprise.”