Cantrell: The Early Years, Part Four

Parted From Me and Never Parted, part Two, a Cantrell: The Early Years, Part Four Update

continued from part one:
Brianna’s heart was suddenly leaping wildly about in her chest, accompanying the butterflies in their unique symphony swirling inside of her. From the moment their paths cross this morning, it was this way, especially when he focused his attention on her.  She felt immediately awkward and unable to think, hoping she wouldn’t say or do anything else to further embarrass herself — so much so, she was forced to keep her eyes from him.

The last thing she wanted to do was destroy his apparent image of her.  She already felt the shame of her earlier lapse in discipline, to which he eluded, blatantly allowing her emotions to get the better of her, reacting as she had to Crewman Rhoades’ taunting.  Right in front of Spock, again, of all people … Spock seemed to read her like a book.  He was also busy trying to make eye contact with her, too.  What else did he see when he looked at her, she pondered?

“Forgive me, I was —” Brianna wrapped her hands around the mug of tea resting on the table, sitting on the edge of her chair as if she would jump up from it any second and escape. 

“Lieutenant.  There is nothing to forgive.  I realize you have Vulcan citizenship.  But you are also human.  You are not expected —”
“But I was taught better than this,” she said, gazing at him earnestly.  “Really.  I am d’Vel’nahr.  Or at least I used to be, although by my behavior you would hardly know it now.  Certainly, T’Pran would cringe, if she could see me.  All her teachings shot straight out the nearest torpedo tube … I don’t seem to be in control much at all, lately. 

A klaxon went off in Spock’s mind at the mention of T’Pran. The name wasn’t all that common. He found himself wanting to inquire if she was T’Pran of the House of Seltu Dei Pick? His heart began to flutter, he grew warm and wondered if he was having a medical incident, such as his father had aboard the Enterprise so many years ago. McCoy had to replace one of Sarek’s heart valves, a tricky surgery at the best of times, let alone on a Vulcan. 

“Perhaps, being around so many humans,” she said, shaking her head and sitting back into her chair more fully.  Taking a sip of tea, she placed the cup and her arm back on the table again.  Busily, she traced the lip of the gray Styrofoam-shaped ceramic mug around and around again, in her own way withdrawing from the uncomfortable subject.  She sighed again.  “I don’t know.  It’s just.  Well — I guess on top of it all I’m a bit nervous, sir,” she said, again dropping her gaze.

“Indeed?  Then I submit by your own criteria, you have been rather nervous since you got here.  While your grasp of Vulcan custom and protocol is rather commanding, your application seems capricious, at best.  Vulcan-by-Choice, did you say?  By whose choice, yours or someone else’s?”

There was a moment of silence that followed.  Someone’s loud guffaws could be heard in the background.  Spock sat back in his chair, momentarily nonplused.  “That was not a criticism, Lieutenant.  Merely an observation,” he said, at last.  She seemed unduly hard on herself, leaving him to wonder, Vulcan-by-Choice or not, who in their right mind had taught her to restrain herself so completely? — not that the lessons had taken entirely, leaving him slightly amused and curiously relieved at the same time.  This T’Pran of hers sounded harder-nosed than his own father.  Seltu Dei Pick. Has to be her.

“I guess it was a bit insane to think I could ever be Vulcan.”
“Perhaps, more for the fact that you are human,” Spock said, gently.  He reached over again, almost without presence of mind, to touch her arm.  Brianna was wearing a white duty smock, an attractive almost caftan-style tunic, vee-neckline, her sleeves ended just below her elbows, edged with lace.  Absentmindedly, Spock stroked the lace with his thumb.  “Trust me, Lieutenant, I know.  For me, it is a constant struggle.”

“What’re you actually two people in one?” she grinned at last.
Spock felt the warmth of her smile, grinning ever so slightly in return.  “If I may confide in you for a moment, there are times when I would actually prefer to throw my hands into the air and run ranting from the room, just as our good Doctor McCoy is so often inclined.”

“But your Vulcan-side holds you back?”
“Mercifully, yes.  And then I just get on with it.”
“Straining your Vulcan reserve to the maximum.  I see how it is.”  She took another sip of her tea.

“Indeed.  And if I may prevail upon you even further, it would be to ask that you not be unduly hard on my new friend Lieutenant Cantrell.  Judging her by standards that are impossibly high.  If I have learned anything, it is to just be yourself.”
“Oh, all the time, sir.  But tell me, which self is you?”

Spock drew in a breath, sitting upright, shaking his head at her.  “Madam, that sharp tongue of yours is going to lead to your undoing.  Now, out with it.”
“My tongue?” she said, innocently enough, her eyes wide.
“Negative.  Although at this moment if feels as if I am pulling teeth.  You were about to tell me what it is that has you so overstrung.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, sir.  Was I?”  Again, she hid her mirth behind her cup, taking another sip of tea.  Already it was cooling off, to her dismay.  She preferred her tea hot, especially with the ginger in it.  Otherwise, it took on a nasty taste, for which no amount of sweetener would help. I have to ask Daddy to send me some real Vulcan tea.

“You were, indeed, Lieutenant.  You are acting very much like a caged Le’mayta.  Something is troubling you.  And it is my concern that if you do not let it out soon, your restraint will, at long last, give way and I shall next have to visit you in the brig for actually having assaulted someone.  Be it Archer, Rhoades, or some other unsuspecting irritant. Either that, or you will simply implode.  Now, are you going to divulge your secret, or do I have to pull rank on you?”

“Wow, you can be extraordinarily tough when you want to be, can’t you.”
“Shall I order you, then?” Spock was enjoying this easy banter between them, keeping his ready smile under wraps for now.
“No, actually, I’ll tell you what it is,” she said, putting her mug back on the table, rising to her feet, “but do you mind if we continue to talk as we walk?  It’s like I’ve got this electric current going through me.  I could probably light up an entire Christmas tree without effort.”

“As you wish, madam,” he said, also rising, “but isn’t it rather early for Christmas?”  Spock resumed his role of tour guide, leading the way off of the recreation deck.

More to Come. . . 

Author’s Note: I have reversed my decision. The interplay between Spock and Brianna in this chapter, is just too difficult for me to recreate. Forgive me for using more of my published work.  This is taken from Chapter 19 from Night Whispers: The Deception, which is volume two of my Star Trek fanfiction trilogy. Heavily edited to fit my Sim Story. Thank you.