elliewood | Jan. 17th, 2016

Ironic

For a person with a love of the Standard language, the pervasive misuse of the term ironic is a peculiar irritant, more subtle than the inaccuracy of using lay as an intransitive verb and more icy a slice against the ear than the coarse malapropism of I could care less. For that reason, Uhura resisted its use in her own speech, both for fear that she would be misunderstood by those who themselves misunderstand its meaning and out of a desire not to engage in a discussion on its proper use. But this moment, in which she was formally meeting Ambassador Sarek of Vulcan for the first time despite having been the intimate of his son for years, merited its utilization, in her thoughts if not in her articulation.

This is so fucking ironic

Spock had never invited her to meet his parents during her Academy years, perhaps a reasonable omission given their hectic class and training schedules and the questionable ethics of his courting one of his students. And forcing an introduction to the widowered parent of her now motherless sweetheart the day of their planet's destruction seemed at the time to be the most churlish of intrusions, as though she sought to assume the newly vacant role of chief female in their lives. She imagined it was understood between them that some time would have to pass before she would be introduced to his father, to allow him, and them, to reach a new equilibrium.

That the space of time in question would exceed the duration of their relationship was not in itself ironic. What was, she thought, was the fact that Sarek now bestowed upon her a degree of gracious attentiveness that indicated quite clearly a misapprehension that she was still the object of his son's affections.

"My dear Miss Uhura. I apologize for allowing circumstances to come between our meeting properly earlier. But I am pleased that I at last have the opportunity to make your acquaintance."

The warmth in Sarek's tone did not go unnoticed by the others standing in the entryway of the ambassadorial residence. She caught the sardonic lift of McCoy's eyebrow, Spock's preternatural stillness at his father's words, and the lightning shifts in Kirk's expression from bewilderment to naked hurt to a wooden, polite blandness. For a moment she imagined standing next to Spock and grinding her heel relentlessly into his instep.

She forced a small smile to her lips. "And I am delighted to finally meet you, sir."

"There is no need for such formalities. I would like you to call me by my given name. As much of it as you can pronounce, that is."

If he had been unaware of her linguistic background, he did not show it as she greeted him in high Vulcan, addressing him by his full name, her pronunciation flawless. He bowed.

"Perfection." He turned to the other Humans. "Captain. Doctor. It is indeed a pleasure to welcome you to my home. Please have some water. My son will see you into the parlor, and I will rejoin you shortly."

She could hear him softly giving instructions to an attendant to make up two of the rooms into sleeping chambers for his guests and realized with a little shock that not only was Sarek unaware of his son's current relationship status, he had also been unaware that they were coming to visit him, or even New Vulcan, at all. Despite herself, she found herself glaring at Spock, and it pleased her that he met her eyes only briefly before looking away in apparent discomfiture.

Serves him right

Spock led them into what Sarek had referred to as the parlor, a word that conjured up intimate seating, a warm fireplace, and old ladies tatting to a mind entranced since girlhood with Jane Austen novels. Far from that sort of cozy venue, It was in fact more of a formal reception hall, its floor carpeted with an intricately woven floorcloth, its sculpted, vaulted ceiling drawing the hot air up and away from its occupants to allow the cooler air of nighttime to circulate. She seated herself on a low bench next to McCoy and surveyed the room with some awe at its grandeur.

He leaned closer to whisper in her ear. "All this could have been yours. Regrets?"

She pursed her lips sternly as her elbow dug deliberately into his side, eliciting his huff of laughter. "Shut up. You know the answer."

"That I do," he murmured back, his breath tickling the space between them. "And I'm glad."

"Not as glad as you're gonna be," she smiled as she twisted away from him to survey the collection of artwork that lined the chamber's walls.

Sarek noticed her appraisal of the art as he re-entered the room. "Reproductions, I am afraid, as the originals were lost. But I count myself lucky to be able to enjoy them nonetheless." He nodded at her before moving to where Kirk was inspecting a shelf of books against the opposite wall, his finger lightly trailing a path across their spines.

"You appreciate books, Captain?"

She heard the note of surprise in Sarek's tone, and from the flush of color that crept up Kirk's throat, she gathered he hadn't missed it either.

"I do. I have a collection of my own, at home. Much smaller than this, though."

"My original collection was naturally much larger, but as with the art, I am pleased to have been able to acquire even these few works in the wake of so great a loss." He tilted his head toward the books, then glanced back at Kirk. "Most of these deal with obscure episodes in Vulcan history, and many of them are written in our own text. I would not expect them to be of any interest to you."

"Father, you are hasty. Jim is one of the few bibliophiles left on Earth."

Well it's about time

The thought had already formed in her mind before she realized that Spock, standing stiffly to her left, had not actually spoken, and that the words had come instead from across the parlor. She stood and turned to where a robed figure, having entered the room unnoticed from the opposite side, now stood next to Kirk, one slender, aged hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"Ambassador!" A fresh blush of pleasure tinted Kirk's cheeks as he clasped the elder Spock's other hand in both of his, shaking it hard and grinning broadly. She felt an echo of Kirk's happiness in the hand on the small of her back as McCoy rose too, his arm briefly encircling her waist in a quick embrace before eagerly propelling her forward toward the new arrival.

"A scholar of history as well. And, unless things are quite radically different in this universe, perfectly adept at reading Vulcan script." Ambassador Spock squeezed Kirk's shoulder before removing his hands to fold them together. "My friends. It is a delight beyond words to see you here. Sarek did not inform me of your arrival."

Sarek nodded in greeting as he approached the pair. "I myself was unaware of their intent to visit, but as your mother was fond of saying, one is wise not to inspect a 'gift horse' too closely."

"Ambassador, last time I saw you, you were just about to save our lives." McCoy removed his hand from her back and held it out to the elder Spock. "Never did get to say 'thank you' properly."

She supposed at first that his years of diplomatic experience made the return handshake from the Vulcan seem natural, but then she saw the emotion on his lined face. "Doctor McCoy. I could never aspire to save as many lives as you have throughout your career, but I will be content with having helped in some small way to preserve those of yourself and your shipmates." He released McCoy's hand and, unexpectedly, extended it toward her. "Lieutenant Uhura, I understand that both you and the good doctor were instrumental in rescuing the captain. Words cannot convey my deep gratitude, nor my admiration of your courage. You are a formidable presence in both universes."

He took her hand and enveloped it with his, dry and warm and trembling very faintly; she smiled as she gave it a cautious squeeze and was surprised at the strength of his grip, despite the slight tremor, as he returned it.

"Ambassador, as you over just for the evening, or are you staying here too?" The excitement in Kirk's voice was palpable, and the elder Spock turned to to gaze at him with undisguised fondness.

"I am a guest as well. Sarek and I have adopted the habit, when we are both in residence on New Vulcan, of keeping each other company. It is curiously satisfying to spend one's time reminiscing with those of similar years. One of the benefits of old age."

"Well, he'll have to share you. We're only here for a week, maybe less."

"Indeed. It would be my distinct pleasure to act as your guide should you wish to visit any of the local sights. There are many places of natural beauty nearby as well as points of interest within the settled areas."

"Spock, I would be grateful if you would entertain our guests tomorrow," Sarek interjected. "I have a morning appointment at the embassy that I fear will extend well into the afternoon."

The Ambassador nodded his assent and turned back to Kirk. "Then let us contrive to make a tour of the immediate environs tomorrow morning. I believe you will be impressed with the progress we have made in rebuilding our society."

"That sounds great -- I'm pretty sure we don't have anything else going on tomorrow morning."

"That is fortuitous. And what are your plans for the remainder of your time here?"

The elder Spock's question was met with a sudden silence as almost every pair of eyes settled expectantly on the younger, who straightened and clasped his hands behind his back. Kirk looked at the floor.

"With respect, Father, it is late and the journey here has been lengthy. I am certain my friends are fatigued."

Another silence followed during which she again visualized crushing his foot with her heel, then pivoting on it, bringing her opposite knee sharply up to maim his genitalia, mocking his injured gasp of shock.

I could care less

The quiet was broken a few moments later by McCoy as he stretched ostentatiously. "I second that. Spock, thanks for bringing that up. Didn't wanna be rude but I feel like I might drop where I stand if I don't get some shuteye."

"Of course." Sarek gestured toward the hallway. "It was remiss of me not to offer you rest at once. There will be ample time in the morning to discuss your plans. Let me show you to your rooms."

He led the group out of the parlor and into the smaller wing adjacent, stopping in front of the first doorway. "My dear, you and my son have this room. Captain, you and Dr. McCoy are in the room directly opposite. Please do not hesitate to let me or the attendant know of any needs or wishes you may have."

She smiled at him gratefully. "I'm sure we'll be very comfortable. Thank you for your hospitality."

"And I in turn thank you for your company. Like my son, I am delighted at your presence in my home."

He turned back toward the parlor, then looked over his shoulder. "Spock, if you are not overly fatigued yourself, perhaps you will join the Ambassador and me for some conversation while your friends rest. I imagine we have much to discuss."

Spock nodded and accompanied Sarek back down the hallway, leaving the three Humans standing in front of the bedroom doors. Once father and son had disappeared into the other wing, McCoy yawned noisily.

"Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm hitting the hay."

He opened the door to their bedroom and guffawed at the sight of a single large, low bed, its most un-Vulcan abundance of pillows an apparent accommodation of a perceived Human need for excessive physical comfort.

She found herself laughing out loud. "I'm sure you two will be very cozy."

This is so fucking ironic

"Well, it won't be the first time. Jim, you'll wake me if I snore too loud, won't you?"

Kirk speculatively eyed the pillows. "Don't count on it."