DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc. The story contents are the creation and property of Karen A. Bates and is reprinted from Nuages Five, published by Checkmate Press, May 1986. Checkmate Press is the property of Karen A. Bates. This story is Rated PG.

Point of View

Karen A. Bates

Allow me to introduce myself. I am the glowing flame pot that sits day in and day out in the rather overrated quarters of the First Officer of the Enterprise, Commander Spock. Now mind you, I'm not complaining about the furnishings, or the early brothel decor, but after two thousand years of being passed down from eldest son to eldest son and having seen just about everything; this place is the pits.

I can see you're skeptical. You would not believe some of the things I've seen. There was a pon farr, let's see now, when was that? Must have been a few centuries ago, about made the wall hangings melt...

Anyway, back to the subject at hand. Spock, sweet boy that he is, is so humdrum, quite unlike his father. I remember the Sarek had that big fight, excuse me, on Vulcan we have 'rational discussions'.

As I was saying, Sarek had this big fight with T'Pau over bringing that round ear from Earth. Another time he had a rational discussion with son Spock over the decision to enter Starfleet. Really thought that son of his had some potential, but no. All I ever get is the incessant chatter from that obnoxious doxy doubling as a computer, and all night research projects. It's enough to make you old before your time.

Spock's first pon farr was quite an occasion, let me tell you. Must have been six years or so ago. He sat right here, not ten feet from me and explained, or rather worked around the explanation of the situation to Kirk. Of course, at that time, Spock hadn't done any of his homework and could only parrot back what had been fed to him for so many years. After that witch Pringle, excuse me, T'Pring, dumped him for old elephant ears, he got busy and boned up on the subject. A little late, but nevertheless...

There was a brief moment though, so pretty... Christine Chapel somehow managed to forget knocking and walked right in on the old boy.

"I had the most startling dream." Whooee, I can just imagine. "You were trying to tell me something, but I couldn't hear you."

He always was a little slow, even as a child. "It would be illogical for us to protest against our natures, don't you think?" Talk about a leading line.

"I don't understand." Let me spell it out to you, chickie.

"Your face is wet." Now's your chance, go for it.

"I came to tell you, we are bound for Vulcan." You blew it. You had your chance, and you blew it.

"Vulcan." Never has conquered the habit of repeating things. "Miss Chapel." Well, he got one thing right.

"My name is Christine." You hang in there and keep pitching, he'll catch on in a few years.

"Yes, I know, Christine. Yawn. "Would you make me some of that plomik soup?" Really now.

"Oh, I'd be very glad to do that, Mr. Spock."

And you watched her go right out that door on the most idiotic pretext I have ever heard. Serves you right, buster. Hhhmmm...the heat's turned up in here today. I wonder...

Oh, here he comes now. Let's see, what'll it be today? Another rational discussion tape to that fellow that thinks you're all wet about the Sutter-Rathborne extrapolation? Or maybe another one of those exciting games of chess with the doxy computer, you know, the ones you have the devil of a time winning?

What's this? You're not alone! Who's that with you? What are you doing, you elf-eared jackanapes? Don't you dare turn my flame out. Stop that! I can't see anything.

It's the pon farr, isn't it? Aha! I knew it! Can't fool me for long.

Come on, who is it? Don't put that cloth over me! I won't tell. Honest. I won't...

Spock! I prom...

The End