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When had Archer’s Enterprise become neutral territory?
Shran didn’t know when it happened, only that it had. And he was grateful for it. He was especially grateful for this chance to catch up with the recommissioned Vulcan Ambassador.
Every time Shran looked at the Soval, he felt guilty. It was a horrible, wretched feeling that he wasn’t used to experiencing, especially when he hadn’t done anything wrong by Andorian standards.
Andorian standards weren’t the only standards at issue anymore.
“It’s good to see you, Soval,” Shran greeted. He even parted his fingers in the ta’al.
Soval nodded at him.
Shran would have preferred to hear ‘good to see you, too’ , but a Vulcan typically wouldn’t admit to feeling pleased to see someone. Soval wasn’t a typical Vulcan. He was well-acclimated to Earth and Andorian cultures. So did Soval’s silent nod mean he wasn’t pleased to see Shran? Not necessarily. Sometimes Soval could be difficult to read. He looked well. He had a healthy glow to his skin, and he looked as relaxed as any Vulcan ever did.
“It looks like your visit home agreed with you,” Shran said.
“It certainly ended better than it began.”
And ah, there was the dry Vulcan humor Shran had grown to appreciate.
Shran chuckled. “You got your job back, so you must be pleased with yourself.” He grinned to let Soval know he was teasing.
“My dismissal was unfounded, so my reinstatement was logical.”
“Of course,” Soval agreed. “But aren’t you a little bit pleased? You were right. They were wrong. Justice prevailed, and so on and so forth.” His antennae waved in concert with his hand.
“You will not get me to admit to such petty satisfaction, Shran.”
“More’s the pity.” Shran hopped up on the table to sit instead of pulling out a chair. He liked the informality of it – and maybe a little how the table’s elevation evened out their height. “I was hoping you could fill me in on some of the happenings on Vulcan. I get that there was a regime change, but I can’t begin to understand it.”
Soval raised his brow. “I doubt that. But I can speak on the topic.”
“Please do,” Shran invited, preening under Soval’s assessment of his comprehension abilities.
Soval began to walk around the table at a sedate pace, making Shran have to twist awkwardly to see him. “Speech is an adequate medium, but is not the only one. Did you know that our studies of your people indicate latent telepathic abilities?”
Shran’s antennae flicked dismissively. “Only the Aenar.”
“The Aenar developed their telepathic skills due to evolutionary need. Like any unused muscle, telepathy can be developed with exercise.”
Shran studied Soval shrewdly. “I don’t think I like the idea of you people prying into our brains.” He shuddered at the thought of being so exposed that the Vulcans might know more about Andorians than Andorians themselves.
“And I did not enjoy my treatment under the torture device your people developed specifically to target Vulcans,” Soval returned flatly.
Shran’s antennae wilted, and his hand curled into a fist with self-directed anger that he deflected outward. “I already apologized for that!”
“So you did,” Soval said as he folded his hands into his robes. “The fact remains, Andorians have studied Vulcans as much as Vulcans have studied Andorians.”
“And yet we still can’t seem to understand one another.” Shran offered him a half-smile.
Soval nodded. “Indeed.”
Shran broke eye contact and looked out at the stars. “It took a pinkskin to avert war between us.”
Soval’s exhale was loud enough to approximate a sigh. “Humans come in variegated shades, just as Vulcans do.”
Shran snorted. “It’s a term of endearment. You should see just how pink Archer can get when I call him that.”
“He is rather…”
Shran glanced over his shoulder, curious at Soval’s uncharacteristic pause. “Abrasive? Irritating? But surprisingly good at getting under your skin? Oddly compelling?”
“Yes.” Soval’s tone was emphatic, like it cost him to say so.
Shran grinned and hopped off the table to stalk closer to Soval. “It’s a shame your species doesn’t blush so easily.”
“I imagine that physiological response would only invite further attempts at teasing.”
“Attempts?” Shran repeated, his antennae tilting forward interestedly. “I suppose I’ll have to up my game if I’ve grown rusty at pushing your buttons, Soval.”
Soval’s eyes darkened slightly, but otherwise he remained placid as always – except for the time Shran had eviscerated his emotional controls. The memory of it was still too fresh, and it clawed at Shran, holding him back. Shran regretted it. Hell, he’d regretted it as he was doing it. But it had been necessary. As an imperial guardsman, his loyalty was unquestionable. He didn’t have the luxury of playing favorites, not even to spare an old enemy-turned-friend from interrogation, not when such a serious allegation was on the line. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.
Shran stumbled away from Soval and his dark, all-seeing eyes.
Only for Soval to catch his elbow, preventing his retreat. Their faces were so close that Shran could see the individual hairs that made-up Soval’s upswept brows.
“Things have changed between us, yes, but I do not think it is all for the worse.”
Shran swallowed thickly. “No?”
“We cannot always rely on Archer as a go-between.”
“On that we agree. But he brings us together in a way we never seem able to do on our own.” Shran’s antennae drooped with his rueful statement.
Soval seemed to hesitate – another uncharacteristic behavior. “There is a way for us to communicate without misunderstanding. But it is…intimate.”
Surprise flooded Shran, along with a shameful eagerness that made his antennae perk up. What exactly was Soval proposing? Shran’s imagination provided him a startling picture of the two of them in an intimate embrace, unclothed and entwined, finding common ground in the ways of warrior brethren. But when he all-too-easily imagined Soval’s face naked with want, again Shran shut down. He shouldn't know how Soval looked twisted with raw emotion, all his barriers down. And yet he did. Whatever Soval had in mind couldn’t possibly be as compromising as how Shran had already seen him under the thrall of that wicked device.
“Shran?”
Shran blinked and covered his moment of uncertainty with gruffness. “Go on.”
“Andorians are not the only people with unexplored telepathic abilities.”
Shran smiled conspiratorially. “Have you been keeping secrets, Soval?”
“Yes.” The Vulcan was serious.
Shran’s smile vanished, and his antennae wavered. “What do you mean?”
Soval stepped past Shran and looked at the bulkhead like it was fascinating. “There is a minority sect of Vulcans who are capable of performing a melding of minds.” He turned back to Shran. “I am one of those individuals. I have harbored this secret for many years.”
“Why tell me of all people?” Shran asked, even though he was internally gleeful at the idea of holding even more of Soval’s secrets, like his fondness for humans, Forrest and Archer in particular. His comely face contorted in laughter and pain. And now this.
Soval’s angular brows rose and fell like a shrug. “It is no longer a secret. I revealed myself prior to my unscheduled visit to your ship.”
Shran didn’t buy it – or, at least, he doubted it was the only reason. He leaned back against the window, canting his hips and crossing his arms. “And?”
“And I could perform one with you.”
“With me? Or on me?” Shran’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not so desperate to make up for my transgression against you that I would submit myself to your mental attack.”
“It is nothing like that,” Soval denied quickly. “This would be no ushaan. I have no desire for retaliation.”
Desire – a particularly unVulcan-like word choice. “Maybe you should desire it. If we had it out like Archer and I finally did, and you gave me as good as you got, maybe we’d both feel better.” Shran growled as he got going, unable to gain control over himself. He strode up to Soval and got in his face again, grabbing the Vulcan by the front of his ambassadorial robes. “I am unused to feeling guilty for doing my job. I hate it.”
His antennae flattened back. The threat of violence loomed in the air. Shran could nearly taste it.
It was how Andorians usually resolved their problems. But it was not the Vulcan way.
Soval was unmoved by Shran’s outburst – literally or figuratively. He made no effort to defend himself against the shorter man. He calmly looked into Shran’s eyes. “I cannot tell you that no Vulcan has ever invaded another’s mind. But a mind meld need not be that way. It would not be that way between us.”
“How would it be, then?” Shran meant to say it as a demand, but it came out too softly, too full of wonder. His hand started to drop from Soval’s chest, but Soval caught it and held it there. Shran felt no heartbeat under the layers of clothes and flesh, and he remembered that Vulcans’ hearts were located somewhere else. Lower. Right side. Or was it the left?
“A meeting of minds on equal terms. It would facilitate a deeper understanding between us. Have you not longed for that?”
“What would you know of longing, Vulcan?”
The corners of Soval’s eyes crinkled in an almost smile. “Would you care to find out?” He set his hand on the side of Shran’s face, spreading his fingers along Shran’s temple.
Warm. Soval’s touch felt warm.
Shran had always thought of Vulcans as strangely cold beings despite the oppressive heat of their homeworld. Vulcan was molten fire and desert wind. Unbearable. Andoria was the bracing pleasure of sharp glaciers and the blanketing comfort of snow. But the heat of Soval’s touch was not unwelcome.
“Show me, then.” Shran sought to make it yet another challenge between them.
“Our minds are merging. My thoughts are your thoughts. Our minds are one.”
This – whatever this was this – was not a battlefield. They did not meet as challengers. They met as wayfarers. Joint venturers in a single enterprise. To know and be known.
Shran could see with Soval’s eyes. He could sense his presence – his thoughts and, yes, feelings – on levels beyond what he thought was possible.
It was intimate, shockingly so. But was that by the nature of the act itself or something they brought to it? Was it something Shran brought to it? And was Soval disgusted? Horrified? No, Soval embraced everything Shran offered, and he shared back his own flavor of confused but deep-seated affection.
‘You don’t hate me,’ Shran realized with awe. ‘Even in the privacy of your own thoughts, you don’t hate me for what I did.’
‘Given the auspices of peace under which I had sought you out above others, it would be more apt to say I felt disappointed.’
‘You felt betrayed,’ Shran corrected, sussing out the truth from Soval’s mind openly displayed. The two of them had a history. A mixed one, but a long one. And Soval had risked everything, his own life, in the hope that Shran would vouch for him. ‘I hurt you.’
‘Yes.’
Soval didn’t shy away from it. His stoicism made Shran even more perturbed by his own lingering discomfort.
“But I healed. The experience was…educational. It set me on a path of introspection that proved most fruitful.’
Soval ‘pushed’ a series of memories at him, which flashed through Shran’s mind’s eye in a cinematic fashion. He ‘saw’ Soval being saved by Admiral Forrest. Soval performing a mind meld on a guard. Soval uncovering a plot to sow war between Vulcans and Andorians. Soval being dismissed from his ambassadorial position because of the mind meld. Soval working with Enterprise to warn the Andorians of a preemptive strike, leading the humans through the nebula right to Shran’s ship. Of course it would be Shran. It was always Shran.
Soval whisked through recalling his abduction, fast-forwarding through the interrogation and torture – but not before Shran could feel it from the other side, could see the flushed blue of his own face demanding – begging – him to reveal the location of the Vulcan fleet. He whimpered – whether for Soval or himself he wasn’t sure.
‘I am recovered, Shran. Look. Feel. Know.’
A much needed respite on Vulcan. A homecoming. Soothing dry heat and the guiding flame of the meditation lamp. Looking inwards – personally and as a people. A revolution underway. Syrranites. Surak. Abolishing the corruption of High Command. A reawakening of the true Vulcan path. A recommitment to laissez-faire. To peace. Solkar in the middle of all of it, stripping away old enmities and redonning his robes to resume his position as Earth’s ambassador. A new beginning, with more questions than answers. But the questions were full of hope. Soval was excited for the answers.
‘You? Excited?’ Shran teased.
‘Intellectual curiosity is a common trait among Vulcans.’
‘Ah, so that’s what has you rooting around my head. Your insatiable lust for knowledge.’
Shran was definitely picking up on lust for something.
‘Show me something,’ Soval requested.
‘Like what?’
‘Anything, Shran. Share a part of yourself with me.’
An ugly part of Shran feared the Vulcan might not like what he saw. They were so different.
‘I do not fear our differences. They make us who we are. I want to know more about you.’
‘You know me well enough. You’ve spied on me for years in the name of diplomatic relations. Don’t Vulcans warn each other not to obsess over their targets? To avoid naming the lab rats? Between me and the humans, you’ve developed quite a few soft spots.’
‘Are you planning a strike at them? It would not prove difficult for a man of your particular talents.’
Whereas outside the mind meld Shran would assume Soval was merely goading him, here he knew this was Soval’s version of teasing. Flirting, even, as he referred to Shran’s strategic mind. It was a revelation.
Shran basked under the fondness and returned it. ‘You’ve gone sweet with age, like an Andorian wine.’
‘Your accusations of sentimentality reek of emotional promiscuity.’
‘I have no idea what you mean.’
‘Do you not? Look.’
Shran sifted through Solval’s thoughts like wading through freshly fallen snow. As he got closer to what he thought might be the answer, luring him like a siren call, Soval distracted him.
‘My first time on Andoria, my eyelashes froze.’
Shran could ‘feel’ Soval’s memory. He offered one of his own. ‘I took less than a dozen steps on Vulcan before my balls started sweating.’
‘You put snow down the back of my robe.’
Shran chuckled, even as he shuddered to feel the sensation as Soval recalled it. ‘Oh yeah. I forgot about that. I had hoped to see you wince. But your face barely twitched.’
‘As soon as we reached the oasis outside the Forge, you removed all your clothes and jumped into the water.’
Shran found it strangely easy to travel down both memories at the same time – his first time on Vulcan and Soval’s first time on the Andorian moon. The two memories merged like lava flowing into cool waters. When Shran had stripped and jumped into the oasis, it had quenched the scorch of Vulcan’s powerful sun. ‘I took fiendish delight in the hope that I might have scandalized the entire delegation.’
‘I, for one, was not scandalized by the sight of your naked body.’
‘No, you were just–’ Shran paused his own recollection to search Soval’s. ‘You were aroused?’
‘Certainly not. I appreciated the view, as Vulcans do have an eye for beauty in all its forms.’ Shran continued to convey his doubt until Soval amended, ‘I was titillated, perhaps.’
Shran rolled his eyes metaphorically. ‘What’s the difference?’
Soval’s thoughts dripped with dry amusement.
Shran had no trouble following the Vulcan’s train of thought as it descended into a kind of clinical debauchery. Shran refused to be the one to be scandalized, but he felt his skin flush and his antennae twitch despite himself. Although, come to think of it, neither reaction implied affront so much as the opposite…
‘Show me.’ Soval was a determined bastard.
‘You want to see…?’
‘Yes.’
Oh, Shran had plenty he could show Soval in this vein – each unearthed memory filthier than the last. Which is why it was ridiculous that his mind supplied his first wedding night. What the fuck…
Soval took responsibility for the turn. ‘I was curious. I heard Andorian weddings require four?’
Shran groaned. ‘It’s complicated, and it’s not as sexy as you think.’
A mental shrug. ‘The same may be said of Vulcan weddings.’
‘I think we’d have a better time of this outside our minds. It’s interesting here, but I’d rather touch you than your brain.’
‘One more thing before we separate.’
‘Funny, since I’m proposing a joining.’ If Shran could waggle his antennae in a mind meld, he would have.
‘We are joined. But I take your meaning.’
‘What else would you be willing to take?’
Shran didn’t have to wonder. Soval conveyed the…extent of his amicability. Shran also sensed that Soval had become distracted by Shran’s proposal to end the mental exercise in favor of a physical one. Shran liked being a bad influence on him. It was nearly a point of pride. Whatever else Soval was going to explore in their minds was aborted. He brought them out of the meld.
They were standing so close that all Shran had to do was lean in to bring their foreheads together. His antennae leapt forward eagerly in tow.
“Soval.”
Soval hummed in response and moved his hand from Shran’s face up his hairline to his antennae. “May I?”
Soval didn’t have any antennae of his own to tangle with Shran’s, but his fingers proved up to the task. Shran gasped as Soval made contact, lightly stroking the pads of his fingers along the antennae. His touch pulsed with a pleasant electricity – a sensitivity Shran hadn’t expected.
“Vulcan hands are psionic touchpoints,” Soval murmured in explanation. “Andorian antennae are as well.”
Shran groaned. “I’m sure you find our comparative physiology fascinating. But just…shut up and keep doing that.” He dipped his chin to give Soval better access.
Shran wanted to discover where else Soval was so sensitive. He reached out to trace the shell of one of Soval’s pointed ears. Call it cliche, but Vulcan ears were cute and he was curious. If Soval wanted to fight him about it, they could still redirect this energy.
Soval captured Shran’s wandering hand. For a moment, Shran thought they might fight after all. But instead Soval redirected their hands to slide together, palm to palm and fingers to fingers. This elicited a slight huff from Soval, an indication that this action was something to Vulcans.
“You like that?” Shran asked needlessly, since Soval obviously did like that very much.
They kept at this for a while, hypnotically exploring antennae and hands. Shran’s heart rate climbed. But he still wanted more.
“I’m going to kiss you,” Shran told him in warning, giving him a chance to object.
But Soval just crinkled his eyes again. “You are kis–”
Shran cut him off by pressing their lips together.
Yes, finally! Shran’s inner voice triumphed. Why try to explain himself in words when lips could pay much better service? He could purge the poisonous guilt from his mind by kissing Soval with purifying sweetness.
Soval was fun to kiss. Whenever Shran increased the pressure of his lips and tongue, Soval did the same with his fingers. The three points of contact – fingers, lips, antennae – kept Shran on the edge of shifting pleasure-points. Before Soval had even started to spell it out, Shran had deduced that Vulcan hands were integral to their species’ erotic touch. He might not know the conventions, but he could get creative with it to see what he could do to elicit more of Soval’s soft sighs. Shran knew what he liked having done to the sensitive parts of his body. He drew Soval’s hand down from his head – where his touch had become a bit too much – and brought it to his mouth. Wetly kissing Soval’s fingers sent the Vulcan into a flutter of energy, just as Shran had hoped.
“Shran! That’s–”
“Good?”
“Unconventional.”
“I always knew I’d be kinky by Vulcan standards.”
Soval withdrew his hand, tucking it into his robe. His cheeks were – finally! – flushed, and his eyes were dark. “I should have suspected as much.”
“You like my unpredictability,” Shran reminded him, thinking of what he saw in the meld and from their long acquaintanceship. “You like when I surprise you for the better.”
“You often defy my expectations. So much so that I have come to expect it. Ergo, your unpredictability has made you predictable again.” Soval raised an eyebrow.
A laugh bubbled up in Shran’s throat. “If you say so, Ambassador.” He stepped back from Soval and walked towards the door of the conference room. He unlocked it.
Soval’s brow furrowed, and one of his hands closed into a fist then opened again. “Where are you going?”
Shran enjoyed the warble of a whine in the Vulcan’s voice. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “Did I not mention I have a meeting with Archer and his chief engineer to get to?”
“No, you did not.”
Shran was certain Soval was glaring at him.
“Well, I do have a meeting,” Shran said, strumming his fingers along the doorframe. He noticed the way Soval’s eyes tracked the movement. “If you want to resume this…discussion at a later time, come find me.” With a grin and a salacious wink, he left the room.
Always leave them wanting more – even if ‘them’ included a flushed and kissable Vulcan.
Shran could barely contain his glee at his latest play in their long game. He didn’t even care if he had to pay for it later. He was confident he could make up for it. In fact, he looked forward to it.