2 comments/ 3258 views/ 7 favorites Hypothesis Confirmed By: Fuinimel Author's note: As usual, while this story features characters from my other Endeavour stories, it is standalone and does not rely on them. It is also, I have to admit, the shortest and most plot-free of the stories so far, but the next one should have more to it. ***** Risa – the Pleasure Planet. At last, the Endeavour was stopping off for shore leave at a place actually suitable for the purpose. And, as far as Leandro could tell, it hadn't even really been planned. Which made sense, in a way, given that the Captain tended not to think in that way. For some reason that he was not privy to, the Endeavour had to make a side-trip to the planet, some distance out of its normal way. A rendezvous with another ship was the rumour, although why the other captain had chosen to meet here, he had no idea. But, it would seem, the other ship must have been late because they apparently had a few days to spare, and there certainly wasn't any sign of another Starfleet vessel in orbit. There was considerable speculation as to which of the senior officers might have persuaded the Captain to let the crew take advantage of the stopover. Much of that speculation was bawdy, Risa having the reputation that it did, but all Leandro could tell was that it probably hadn't been the Chief Engineer, since he would be staying on the ship for the duration. So here he was, standing in the transporter room, about to beam down to the surface of a planet for the first time in quite a while. He was looking forward to it as much for the simple break in routine as for any of the other delights that Risa was supposed to offer. If he could just soak up the sun on the beach for an afternoon, that would be enough. Holodecks, after all, could never quite duplicate that, not least because of the psychological knowledge of where you actually were. "I am afraid I will have to ask you to wait a little longer, Ensign Pessoa." Leandro, already hefting his light bag of essentials, looked across at the Saurian transporter officer, eyebrow raised. "The next group are going down together." The reason for his delay turned out to be four female officers, obviously a group of friends. The Bolian he did not know, although he had seen her around, and all he knew about one of the human women was that she was a nurse. The other human, Sumati Chennapragada, he did know, since she was a fellow engineer, albeit not in his own section, and... well, everyone had heard of Lugmilla. "She's kinda hot out of uniform," whispered Chuck, leaning over so that the women wouldn't hear him. "Agreed," said Dorel. "I wouldn't mind... wait," said Chuck, looking confused and glancing up at their companion, "you're Rigelian. Why would you think... and which one are you talking about anyway?" Dorel smiled, but said nothing. Leandro suspected that the big alien had been teasing Chuck, although you never knew for sure. It wasn't as if the American had specified who he had been talking about either, although it was presumably either Sumati or the nurse. Honestly, Chuck could be a real jerk sometimes, and Leandro couldn't imagine that either of the women would give him the time of day. In fact, while Dorel could be good company – if rather a minimal conversationalist – Leandro had been disappointed to arrive in the transporter toom at the same time as Chuck. Now he was going to have to find an excuse to get away from the man. "Nah, seriously" said Chuck, "you gotta tell me. Don't want you busting my chances..." Dorel snorted, otherwise remaining impassive. "Hey, there's a fifth space on the pad," Leandro called out to the women, "mind if I take it?" "Uh, we've got one more just coming," said the Bolian, looking a little embarrassed. "Actually, I think Sh'ree is transporting separately with Max," said Sumati, "she told me that she's got something else planned for today." "Huh," said Lugmilla, shrugging bulky shoulders, "this wouldn't be a plan that involves renting a double hotel room and not coming out for 24 hours, would it?" A wink passed between the women that suggested that this was, in fact, quite likely. Chuck would probably have leered had he not still been unsuccessfully trying to interrogate the Rigelian officer. Unfortunately for him, while he might not have been paying attention to anything the women said, the latter could apparently hear him, as both the nurse and the Bolian woman were giving him a decidedly frosty look. "Sure, hop on," said the Bolian, "and let's get down there." "Thanks. Sorry, big guy," he added to Dorel as he stepped up onto the pad, "catch you later." The Rigelian grunted, giving Chuck a resigned look that the latter still somehow failed to pick up on. Just as the transporter hummed to life, Leandro heard the American, apparently thinking he could no longer be overheard, pressing on, "'cause the one I'd like to see in a tiny bikini is..." And then they were elsewhere. "I do not know that man!" said Leandro, jokingly raising his hands, "he's nothing to do with me!" "Yes, you do," pointed out Sumati. "True, but I'm going to go somewhere else before he works that out," he turned to leave, knowing that he had a few more minutes before the next batch was due to beam down, "thanks for giving me the slot." "No problem. We'd better be going ourselves. Now, Lugmilla, where's this bar you mentioned...?" –-***–- Avoiding Chuck was not, as it turned out, particularly difficult. The American was likely to head to somewhere loud and busy, or failing that, at least somewhere close, so all Leandro had to do was head to a beach some distance from where they'd beamed down. Of course, the whole place was buzzing with tourists, so a genuinely secluded place was out of the question, but some of the beaches away from the main hotel area were more than quiet enough for some decent relaxation. So he stripped to his shorts, lay back on a towel and soaked up the warmth of Risa's golden sun. He would take a dip in the ocean a little later, he thought, watching the waves gently breaking on the shore. A few other tourists were down there already. Nobody he knew from the ship, which in itself made a change. A group of four were playing some sort of ball game. It appeared to be something like beach volleyball, except that they were standing waist deep in the water. Whatever it was, they didn't seem to be playing it very seriously, and the human couple seemed to be taking every opportunity to hold hands or put arms around waists in between bouts. The woman was petite, oriental, and wearing a very skimpy black bikini, the man taller and darker skinned. The other couple were Trill, and about the same age. As he watched, the ball was caught by an unexpected wave, and bounced up towards the beach to the group's laughter, the sound floating up to him on the light breeze. The Trill woman went to fetch it, and, yes, he noted, as she stepped into the shallower water, the spots really did go all the way down. He turned away, a little embarrassed to have been watching them, although they didn't seem to have noticed, and he wasn't really that close. Instead, he noticed an older couple, hand in hand, walking along the edge of the waves. Not everyone here was young, but at least they all looked contented. He sighed and leaned back, deciding on one last bout of sunbathing before he took to the sea himself. He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth soak into his naturally tanned body. He could hear footsteps nearby, and some sort of bird calling in the air far above. What sorts of birds did they have here? He had no idea, although there were some in the science division who could doubtless have told him. The footsteps were getting closer, but he decided to ignore them. It was unlikely to be anyone he knew, and there was more than enough space on the beach to ensure that nobody needed to set up their towel near to his. Whoever it was would pass by. But they didn't. The footsteps came closer still. They were light, and feminine, he thought. He didn't have one of those fertility things set up by his towel, so he doubted it was a native Risan, and if there were people selling things on the beach, he hadn't seen them until now. The footsteps stopped, right next to him, and he opened his eyes, leaning up and shading his face against the sun with one hand. "Do you mind?" asked a calm and decidedly sexy voice. For a second he was caught off guard, just seeing a slender body silhouetted against the sky. She was clothed, albeit lightly, with long hair, and pointed ears... his eyes suddenly adjusted and he recognised her. "T'Sel..." he said, wondering what she was doing here, "no, of course not." "Thank you," she said, sitting down quite close to him, adjusting her white summer dress – more of a wrap, really – as she did so. The thing about Ensign T'Sel, of course, and it was likely that the botanist herself was one of the few on the ship who didn't know this, was that she was stunningly attractive. Even the less humanoid members of the crew knew, albeit in their case more by observing the reactions of their human colleagues than for any other reason. Yet the Vulcan seemed oblivious, and even somebody like Chuck wasn't stupid enough to do more than admire from a distance. But still, for all that Leandro tried to avoid getting on the wrong side of his female colleagues by being too forward, it was something he could hardly fail to notice himself. He glanced across at her, her cool emotionless face with those deep brown eyes, that black shoulder-length hair falling around leaf-shaped ears, and tried to avoid visibly flushing as he noted the way the white material of her dress was just a little translucent in the bright sunlight. The way she had folded the skirt as she sat down left one leg mostly bare, flawless skin shining. She didn't seem to have noticed. He should really stop thinking like that... but that was easier thought than done. "Ensign Pessoa," she began after a brief pause, "or may I call you 'Leandro'?" Even her voice was unconsciously sexy, a soft silky tone with a calm, level inflection that somehow made it even more enticing. "Sure... T'Sel. We're off duty after all." "Indeed so. Which makes this an ideal opportunity for extra-curricular experimentation." Okay... she probably had not meant that to sound the way it did. "I have formulated a hypothesis that I am unable to test further without assistance. I have determined that you would be a suitable partner in conducting this experiment. However, given the present circumstances, and the human need for suitable periods of relaxation, I would understand if this was not convenient for you." Had it been almost anyone else, he would have brushed her off, and suggested some other time, during off-duty hours on the ship. But his mind was somewhat clouded by the desire just to listen to her voice, and, perhaps even more so by a mixture of flattery and curiosity. He was an engineer, so what sort of experiment did a botanist need him for? And why him, in particular? They had talked before, of course, so it was not as if they were strangers, but there had to be other choices at least as good on the ship. "Not necessarily... I didn't have anything specific planned. But perhaps I should hear what the experiment is first? Then I can decide." "That seems logical," she agreed. "As you know, I am employed on the USS Endeavour as a botanist. Naturally, however, I have a wide training in the biological sciences and a general interest in their application. A narrow field of study would be overly limiting, both in matters of intellectual stimulation, and, more pragmatically, with regard to potential advancement within Starfleet." "Furthermore, the complexity of ecological interactions means that it is not possible to study botanical processes and growth patterns without some reference to the animals associated with those plants, including predators, symbiotes, and so forth." Leandro nodded. What she said made sense, albeit phrased in a typically Vulcan fashion, but he had absolutely no idea where she was going with it. "I recently encountered an alien organism with an unusually long reproductive cycle, the synchronisation of which had profound effects on the local plant-life. This factor could, for example, have been relevant to attempts to colonise the planet in the future, as it could affect long-term agricultural production. Specifically, the organism, a form of small arthropod-analogue, reproduced in large swarms on an eleven- year cycle, remaining largely dormant for the majority of the remaining period." "Like cicadas?" offered Leandro, glad that he was able to add something to the conversation, "we have those on Earth." "Exactly so. My research into similar phenomena did unearth references to Terran periodical cicadas, such as Magicicada septendecim. The details are different, in that periodical cicadas are fossorial during the non-reproductive instars, but the principles are similar." 'Fossorial'? 'Instars'? No, she'd lost him again. "However, this reminded me of another organism with a similarly long-term reproductive cycle, with which you will also be familiar." He must have looked blank, because T'Sel continued talking, "I refer, of course, to the Vulcan species." "As you will be aware, we Vulcans become reproductively active only during a brief period once every seven years. This is a biological imperative, necessary for the continuation of our species, and there has been significant neurochemical and biomedical research conducted on the matter of alleviating some of its more undesirable side-effects. In addition, there have been administrative efforts to prevent it from impeding organisational efficiency. For example, I will be returning to Vulcan in good time prior to experiencing any such effects, and will not be interacting with Starfleet during that time period." Well, of course; everybody knew that. But it still left Leandro none the wiser, and, if anything, he was just becoming more confused. "However," T'Sel continued, "there is a problem with this narrative; an inconsistency that appears not to have been solved, or, that I can determine, even addressed, by other researchers. Once I identified this inconsistency, I became curious, since there must naturally be a logical explanation for the existence of the two differing approaches to reproductive activity within my species. The question is therefore raised as to whether or not this apparent discrepancy has a biological, or a sociological, root." Leandro held up his hand to stop her. "Two different...? Uh... sorry, I don't understand. I thought Vulcans all..." he glanced around, and was glad to see that nobody else was close enough to hear, "you know, that you all..." he struggled to find the right words, "used a common approach?" "Indeed, you are correct. The utilisation of a single, optimum, strategy for minimising and containing the socially deleterious effects of biologically essential functions is only logical. However, not all members of my species employ rigorous logic." "I don't... oh, wait, I see what you mean. Romulans! Huh. I never really thought about that. I suppose they must have the same problem." He paused, and then added, "or do they?" The Vulcan nodded. "It is indeed evident from our observations of Romulan culture and society that, as we would expect, their biological processes in this regard are those universal to the species. Naturally, the social implications are different, as they would have been among my own distant ancestors, and, while we know little of the precise details of how they deal with the issue, it is clear that they must do so in some fashion." "However, that they may have a different method for controlling the..." she actually halted for a second, and Leandro wondered if this was a sign of embarrassment on her part, "...the Pon Farr is not the discrepancy to which I refer, as it would be a different cultural adaptation to the same biological imperative. Where the discrepancy arises is that evidence from those who have dealings with Romulans indicates that they also engage in such activities outside the Pon Farr period." "In short, the question is, 'why do Romulans engage in sexual activities when there is no chance of conception'?" She turned towards him, an enquiring look on her face, as if expecting him to provide an answer. Leandro looked around him, noting that the older couple were some way down the beach now, and that the ball-playing group seemed to be wrapping up their game, eagerly chatting as they headed up onto the sand, facing away from him. It did not look as if they would be overheard, which unfortunately gave him no excuse not to respond to T'Sel's question. It had, he reflected, to be just about the strangest conversation he had ever had with a Vulcan, and that was saying something. "Uh... well..." he tried to avoid thinking too much about the shapeliness of the woman next to him, but without much success, "perhaps they just enjoy it?" She nodded, as if pleased he had just worked out something complex and significant. "That would be my deduction, too. Indeed, it is difficult to reach any alternative conclusion, especially considering the ubiquity of recreational sexual activity among known humanoid species." "And yet, we Vulcans are an exception to this rule. Were it not for the existence of Romulans, one might suppose this to be a biological constraint. However, with the evidence available, two possibilities present themselves. Firstly, the long genetic isolation between Romulans and Vulcans has led to an alteration in the phenotype of one or the other population, such that there is, indeed, a biological difference between the two. There are other examples of such phenotypic variation between us, after all." Leandro decided that he would take her word for that, whatever it meant. "However, my hypothesis is that the second alternative is the more likely to be correct. Unfortunately, there appears to have been no research on this matter, so far as I have been able to determine. I suspect that the matter is considered indelicate, and not worthy of scientific investigation. Yet I, as a biologist, cannot agree with this assessment, and find the resulting lacuna in our knowledge to be unfortunate. To rectify this omission, if only for my own personal curiosity, I have attempted an experiment to confirm my hypothesis. Regrettably, my early experiments were unsuccessful, and I believe that they cannot be progressed further without assistance." "Sorry," said Leandro, "could you back up a bit there? What hypothesis? I don't think you've said." She paused, tilting her head minutely to one side as she considered what he had said. "My apologies. My hypothesis is this: that there has not been sufficient time to create such an extreme phenotypic variation, and therefore that the absence of recreational sexual activity among Vulcans is a social phenomenon tied to our acceptance of the primacy of logic." "That is, I hypothesise that Vulcans are capable of experiencing sexual pleasure outside of a reproductive context, but simply choose not to do so, due to social conditioning already entrenched in our pre-adolescent phase." "As I have said, my previous experiments to confirm or refute my hypothesis were inconclusive. Therefore..." "Wait... wait... what? Experiments?" Leandro was getting decidedly flushed now; the conversation had turned in a direction that made it harder than ever to ignore T'Sel's undeniable charms, and he was having to fight to keep from jumping to the obvious conclusion. "I attempted manual stimulation to induce arousal," the Vulcan woman replied, with not a flicker of emotion, "however, my failure to achieve a satisfactory conclusion could be equally well attributed to the social conditioning I referred to earlier, as to any physiological deficit. That is, I cannot exclude the possibility of a false negative result due to the necessity of the stimulus being itself influenced by my own logical, and unemotional, thought processes." Hypothesis Confirmed Leandro could not believe he was hearing this, and was decidedly grateful that nobody else was anywhere near to being in earshot. The steady, flat way in which she spoke about – presumably – masturbating, was, combined with the silky smoothness of her voice, in itself rather arousing. And what, exactly was she asking him? His mind raced with pleasurable possibilities, until, at last, he suddenly reached one that actually made rather more sense. "Oh, I get it," he said, "I'm an engineer. You want me to make you a vibrator." T'Sel looked at him with a curious expression, one eyebrow cocked. "I do not understand," she said, simply. "I guess there's no word for it in Vulcan. But, you know... an electrical device for, uh, stimulation." "Interesting," she said, "I had not thought of that possibility. Although, had I done so, I am sure that I could have constructed such a simple mechanism myself without the need of an expert engineer. No, that was not the experiment I had intended, which I suspect would be a more comprehensive trial than the one you suggest." "Then, what...?" Was she really asking him what he thought she was? Surely he couldn't be that lucky? "I believe you have already interpreted my intention, and merely wish me to clarify the particulars," she said, chiding him a little. "I have observed, during our previous encounters, that you find both my physical form and my company to be pleasing, and I also experience a reciprocal attraction. Since I naturally require my co-experimenter to be non-Vulcan, I find you a most logical choice for the role, having the greatest potential for inducing a positive result." "If you are amenable, I propose that we engage in recreational copulation, to determine the physiological and experiential parameters of non-reproductive sexual activity in the Vulcan female." "Well, why didn't you just say so?" –-***–- Leandro paused for a moment on the patio outside the small hotel that they had agreed on as the location for the 'experiment'. The sun was setting over the sea in a riot of gold and fiery orange. T'Sel was nowhere to be seen, and he wondered if she could appreciate the natural spectacle before him as humans could. Perhaps; he had never been to Vulcan, but he had seen images, and the cities were not devoid of artwork, nor full of grey and utilitarian buildings. They were a people who gave every indication of appreciating beauty in their architecture and homes, so why not in the natural world, too? It was all in soothing and pastel shades, from what he could tell, but then Vulcans were not devoid of emotion, they just refused to be ruled by it. How that would apply to tonight, he could not say. It was undoubtedly a strange situation to find himself in. How did T'Sel really feel about him? She said that she experienced a 'reciprocal attraction' towards him, but quite what that meant, especially to an alien, he had no idea. Leandro was not one to boast about his conquests, as Chuck the security officer did, but that did not mean that he did not like sex. There had, to be sure, been little opportunity for it on the Endeavour, with its limited supply of human women... although there had been that attractive Nigerian ensign in Life Support a couple of years back. She had since been assigned to a different ship, and had apparently found someone else after that anyway. Yet here he was, about to make out... or something... with one of the most desired and yet unobtainable women on the ship. It was hard to wrap his head around it, harder still to interpret those alien thought processes of hers. This was far from romantic, but he wasn't going to turn her down. Apart from anything else, he was curious... was her theory actually correct? He was certainly going to do his best to find out. He turned to head inside, glancing briefly around the tables laid out on the patio. He realised that he recognised one of the couples there from the crew of the Endeavour. The man was Max Dorner, a weather scientist that he had worked with not so long ago, calibrating some long-range planetary sensors. The Andorian woman's name he didn't know, although he had seen her about, and he guessed that this must be the 'Sh'ree' that Lugmilla and the others had been talking about earlier in the day. The Andorian was wearing a bikini top and a wrap-around skirt, and was leaning in towards Max, the couple sharing a quiet conversation, hands entwined. Clearly they were doing a lot more than just renting out a double room, sitting out here and admiring the sunset together. A human and an Andorian, as obviously in love as any couple could be. A human and a Vulcan might be more of a challenge... although it had happened, historically. Or so he had heard. Not that a longer term relationship was what T'Sel had in mind, so far as he could tell. He stepped into the hotel, not wanting to intrude any more on Max and Sh'ree's quiet moment, for all that it had given him food for thought. He passed a couple of other people on the way to the room. One, a Risan woman, gave him a smile and a wink. She probably worked here and knew as well as anyone what happened in the hotel rooms... although she would likely find his particular situation surprising. He thought, for a second, that the second woman he passed was a Vulcan, and wondered what she was doing here. She was tall – almost remarkably so – with short-cropped brownish hair and a haughty demeanour. She glanced at a small read-out device, frowned, and gave a tut of annoyance before striding past Leandro down the corridor, a determined expression on her face. It was only then that he realised that she was a Romulan, not a Vulcan. Her forehead was flatter than normal for her race, which was why he hadn't caught it immediately, and Leandro reflected that it was the obvious, if minor, display of emotion that had really made him notice the difference. T'Sel was right; her people and the Romulans had a lot in common, despite their long cultural and genetic isolation. Which, now that he thought about it, made her theory all the more plausible. Leandro certainly hoped it was right... one-sided enjoyment really wasn't his style. At last, he found the room, knocked on the door and slid it open before stepping inside. To his surprise, he found it lit by a soft, warm, glow from dozens of candles lining the walls and laid out on a desk and the top of a small cabinet. Finding himself alone, he walked over to the cabinet, noting what looked like Vulcan filigree on the silver candle holders. He could smell the faint odour of the burning wax, combined with something like incense, yet more subtle than he was used to. Experimentally, he moved his hand slowly over the desk. It passed through the candles as if they weren't there. They were, as he had begun to suspect, holograms; it explained why the wax didn't seem to be dripping, as well as how so many had got here in the first place. The scent had to be added as an effect. Doubtless the room was set up for this sort of thing, although without the expense of a full holodeck. Apart from a large window, currently shrouded by a curtain, the room featured only a bathroom door, a wooden screen that presumably led to a walk-in wardrobe, and of course, the bed. It was a double, very neatly made, with plain white sheets with a pale green stripe down side, decorated with Vulcan writing in a contrasting golden tan. That presumably wasn't a hologram, so... impressive. "Do you like it?" He started as the bathroom door opened, and T'Sel stepped into the room . "It is my understanding that an appropriate ambience may be off assistance in promoting activities of this nature. However, I have few relevant human reference sources, and hope that this will prove suitable for our purpose." "It's perfect," he managed to say, although his eyes were now drawn solely to the woman in front of him. The soft light only accentuated her beauty, but even so it was apparent that the Vulcan had put some thought into her own appearance, too. She was wearing a long white sleeveless gown, the hem falling to her ankles, gathered at her waist with a narrow belt decorated with tiny silver balls, almost like gemstones. Leandro's eyes moved upwards, taking in her bare arms and the way the fabric followed the curve of her bust without being particularly revealing. The collar was high, both concealing and emphasising her slender neck. She wore her hair up, gathered at the top by a strand of fine silver chain. Twin strands fell in front of each of her leaf-like ears, one of which, he noted, bore a decorative silver clip about half way up. In the half-light, her hair seemed inky black, her dark eyes shadowed beneath long lashes and high, sloping, eyebrows. Her face, of course, was serene, expressionless and entirely unreadable. "As are you," he added, realising that he had been silently drinking in the vision in front of him for too long. "I am glad that you find this acceptable," she said, her voice as smooth and musical as always, her calm inflection only adding to the allure. Leandro was already finding himself more than a little aroused. "I hope you understand," continued T'Sel, " that I will require some guidance in the details of tonight's activities." "I... uh..." Leandro tried to focus again on the actual reason for his being here. "You mean, you haven't... I assumed..." Surely she was old enough to have undergone the Pon Farr before? "I believe that you misunderstand. I am aware of details of the biological process, and have, as you may surmise, experienced it on a previous occasion. However, I have no recollection of the event." Even she could read the wordless surprise on his face at that revelation, and so continued with her explanation. "This is natural to Vulcans, I assure you. Very little research has been done on this aspect of our biology, as you may imagine. It is, after all, not considered one of the undesirable side effects of Pon Farr that we wish to alleviate. However, it appears likely that the hormonal surge within our bodies inhibits the laying down of long term memories, leaving only confused recollections which we are reluctant to examine too closely. I suspect that our adherence to logical discipline may further inhibit such recall." "That is to say, my memories of the Pon Farr are limited and partial, although I am aware of the general nature of the events that occurred around me. However, I have no recollection at all of the final act – I recall entering the room, and nothing more until the tumult in my mind had passed. Of what occurred between those events, I know nothing except by logical inference." "Okay..." said Leandro slowly, "I think I understand. It's quite different for humans... but then, I guess you knew that. But, just to clarify, this memory lapse is specifically a Pon Farr thing, right?" At least she seemed more comfortable using the term now; he recalled how she had seemed almost embarrassed to use it earlier in the afternoon. "I believe so. However, as I have said, there has been little research on the matter, and I believe that you have identified the same possibility that I have. While it is logical to assume," she continued, "that Romulans retain at least a degree of recollection of their non-reproductive sexual activities, or they would have no motive for engaging in them, I cannot exclude the possibility of the recall being partial. Furthermore, should my hypothesis be incorrect, this may be a previously unknown distinction between our genetic races." "As such," she said watching his expression for a reaction, "it will be necessary to make a recording of the experiment." That he had not been expecting. Not at all. "There is, however, no requirement that the recording be visual. An audible commentary is all that will be needed. To this end, I have a microphone and recording device, here," she indicated the item of jewellery on her ear. "There will also be no need for names to be mentioned, so your anonymity will be preserved. I have observed that you are a discreet individual, and trust that you will also be able to maintain the confidentiality of the experiment." "Is all of this satisfactory to you?" Did he catch a look of hope in her eyes at that point? It was difficult to be sure, and he might well have been imagining it, but it seemed that way. He paused to collect himself, then looked at the beautiful woman in front of him again. She really had made an effort over this, he reflected. "Yes, of course," he said, "that's fine. It was a surprise, I admit, but, actually, it's," he gave her a quick grin, "very logical." She did not, of course, smile back, and instead just nodded. "I am glad that you concur." "Anything else I should know?" "We are, I believe, agreed on the terms and purpose of the experiment. For the avoidance of doubt, however, the experiment is to terminate when either one of us states that it should do so, when a positive result is obtained, or, in the event of a clear negative result, on your ejaculation. Agreed?" "Agreed," he said, finding his throat a little dry. He knew one thing; he was going to do his best to ensure that the result was positive. If, of course, that was even possible. "Then I would suggest that we commence. Should we disrobe now?" He gazed into her brown eyes, seeing no more than a mild curiosity, politely waiting for his response. He reached out, and ran a thumb across her cheek, feeling the soft smooth skin. She made no response, so he took a half-step closer, their bodies now almost touching. "It doesn't have to be straight away," he said, leaning in to brush his lips to hers. He moved back again, watching her expression in the flickering candlelight. It hadn't changed, and her posture remained as neutral as ever. "Ah," she said, "the preliminaries. I understand." "Look," he began, "if you're..." He had been about to ask if he was making her uncomfortable, if her concept of the 'experiment' did not include this, but he did not get the chance. For at that moment, she leaned into him, holding his head, and kissed him back. It was a gentle kiss, her lips not parted, but the feel of her soft lips against his was blissful, and drove any thoughts of dissuading her from his mind. After a second or two, she pulled her head back, her eyes locked on his, a slightly quizzical look on her face. "Hmm..." she said, with a questioning inflection, and kissed him again. This time her body melted into his, and he found his hands around her waist, feeling the texture of the white fabric beneath his fingers, the curves of her narrow waist. T'Sel placed her free arm around him in response, running over his back, a gentle caress that seemed more exploratory than passionate. Her other hand still held his head to hers, and this time she opened her mouth a little more, as he responded to her in kind. For a moment, she broke away from the kiss, tapping the device on her earlobe before returning her hand to its former position. "Recording begins," she said simply, "kissing is a more pleasurable experience than I had anticipated." She was, he realised as they began again, a surprisingly good kisser. She was soft and gentle, not full of passion or lust, yet she was yielding in his arms, lips moving against his, one arm stroking his back, the other running down the back of his neck as their tongues entwined in a slow, languorous, dance. He moved his own hand to her head, stroking her jet black hair, pausing for a moment to feel the alien outline of a pointed ear, then dropping it down again to hold her shoulders, keep her pressed against him. They remained like that for a while, locked in one another's arms. Leandro was the first to break from the kiss, running his lips instead across one of her smooth cheeks down to the angle of her jaw. T'Sel obligingly tilted her head, although he could not help noticing a lack of any other reaction; she was not breathing heavily, for instance, seeming as unmoved as always. The high collar of her dress was done up with a button at the side, which he deftly popped with his left hand as his right moved down to cup her shapely behind, pressing her body closer into his. Her long neck now exposed, her kissed her throat, before moving back to her cheek. His nose and lips brushed her earlobe, and he flicked his tongue out, nibbling gently at her there, tracing the unfamiliar, leaf-like shape. He squeezed her buttocks as he did so, pressing his hips into hers. "Co-experimenter showing signs of physiological arousal and tumidity," T'Sel said. "Concurrent sensations or reactions are not observed, although the experience remains pleasurable." "But just 'pleasurable'?" asked Leandro, a little disappointed. "I found the kissing satisfactory," she said, pulling away a little to look him in the eyes. "'Satisfactory'?" "I feel a mild compulsion to continue, and I can see the emotional attraction that this would have were I not able to control that compulsion." "There's no need to control it." "The instinctive nature of..." He silenced her with another kiss, and she did not object. Wow. He just couldn't get over what an incredible kisser she was, especially given her apparent detachment from the experience. He had both his arms around her back now, and slid one hand up towards her slim shoulders. There he found what he was searching for – the fastening of her dress, previously hidden behind the wrap-around collar. Still with his lips locked to T'Sel's, Leandro undid the zip, running it down her back to where it ended just above her hips. His hands ran along her bare back, cool smooth skin beneath his fingertips. He hadn't realised it until today, but it was becoming apparent that Vulcans' body temperatures were a couple of degrees below those of humans; not cold enough to be off-putting, but noticeable nonetheless. If anything, feeling that coolness against the warmth of his own body only added to the sweetness of the sensations. The Vulcan woman was also clearly following his lead, for, even as he stroked her back, she unhitched Leandro's shirt from his waistband and ran a hand up beneath it, tracing the contours of his body. Her motions were methodical, yet gentle, a careful exploration that never faltered, even as they continued kissing. Gently but firmly, he began to manoeuvre her towards the bed. She readily got the hint, kicking off her shoes, and then pulling away from his embrace to help him pull the shirt up and over his head. She looked down over his body, running a hand over his abs and up to stroke his chest. He wasn't the most muscular of men, but Leandro liked to think that his regular sessions in the gym paid off, and that he at least looked sleek and well-toned. It was, of course, impossible to tell from T'Sel's expression whether or not she agreed, although the way that she ran her fingers over his body suggested that she certainly didn't disapprove. Leandro placed his hands on the Vulcan woman's hips then slid them up, admiring the curves of her slender waist before reaching her shoulders, reaching round and beginning to ease her out of her dress. She needed no encouragement, sliding her arms free, and pushing the hem down before he could reach it. The dress pooled on the ground around her ankles, and T'Sel immediately stepped out of it, allowing his fingers only one brief brush against her flanks before she moved away to lie down on the bed. Leandro stared mutely at the vision of beauty before him, bathed in the golden candlelight. His gaze travelled slowly up her long calves to her slender thighs, admiring the creamy smoothness of her skin. From there, his eyes took in the curve of her hips, and the shape of her belly, before lingering further up. Her underwear was plain black, utilitarian rather than lacy, but the bra did nothing to hide the perfect shape of her breasts, the way she lay un-self-consciously emphasising her cleavage. Hypothesis Confirmed Yet it was to her face that he was really drawn, that wondrous alien allure of hers, those deep brown eyes that watched him with mild curiosity, those soft lips that he longed to kiss again. He realised that he had been staring too long when she tilted her head to one side and cocked an eyebrow. "You're so beautiful..." he breathed. "Your countenance and form are also pleasing to me," she informed him, "I did not select you solely for your discretion." Despite the clinical phrasing, the way she said that nearly made him blush. That light, musical quality to her voice, coupled with her calm inflection, was intoxicating, and something he was beginning to find highly erotic. Silently, he stepped towards the bed, and stripped off the remainder of his clothing. T'Sel's eyes dropped to his waist, her gaze appraising. To Leandro's delighted surprise, she reached out and gently cupped his balls, before sliding her long, cool, fingers up his shaft. He gasped out loud as she caressed the tip, thumb and forefinger tracing out the shape. "I estimate," she said, "co-experimenter's erect penis to measure seventeen point five centimetres in length. This is significantly above the median for both human and Vulcan males, and so presumably capable of producing more than adequate stimulation." He couldn't help smiling at the way she said it. That calm voice was certainly turning him on, he reflected as he lay down in the bed beside her, her hand still stroking his shaft. "'More than adequate', hey?" he said, as pulled her towards him, their faces almost touching, gazing into each other's eyes. "That would be a logical inference." "Mmm hmm..." They kissed again, and he felt her hand release him, only to slide around and feel his buttocks, pressing their hips together once again, nothing but the plain black fabric of her knickers now separating their bodies. He moved his free hand down to her thigh, lifting her leg up so that it lay across his, once again savouring the coolness of her bare skin. "Co-experimenter clearly aroused, and our present bodily contact is pleasurable," she stated, "however, physiological and psychological changes are not identified in Vulcan subject." "Really?" he said, breaking away for a moment, "are you just so good at repressing it all, or does it really not work for you?" "Emotional suppression is a natural state for any adult Vulcan, so it remains plausible that psychological factors are inhibiting the response that would be typical in humans. Or, presumably, in Romulans. It may therefore be advisable to move to the final phase of the experiment." "Not yet," he told her, firmly. "You are not sufficiently ready? I had surmised that you were, judging by your present condition." "Not me, you." She cocked an eyebrow, "I do not understand." "I want you to enjoy this. And not just because of the experiment. I am hoping that there are still a few things I can do to get you in the mood." "Interesting. While, of course, I have no direct knowledge, I would assume that preliminary activities are minimal during the Pon Farr, and that the focus is entirely upon the reproductive act." "But you don't need warming up then. Right now, I think you may do." "That does seem logical. Very well, I will continue to follow your lead." "Just lie back," he said, gently rolling her over then positioning himself above her, looking down into her mildly curious face. He kissed her on the chin, then left a trail of soft kisses down her throat and over her upper chest. Moving down a little, he reached round to unhitch the clasp on her bra, helping her to remove it. T'Sel's breasts were, he had to admit, magnificent, prominent without being overly large, her nipples dark brown against the light dusky complexion of her skin, almost glowing in the candlelight. He ran his fingertips over the outer edges of her mounds, stroking her softly as he moved inwards in lazy circles. She was breathing gently, with no change in tempo even as he reached the centres, brushing her nipples, blowing on them before planting a light kiss on each. They were not, he noted, erect. "This remains pleasurable," she informed him, "however..." "Hush... I'm not done." His kisses moved down to her belly, feeling its smooth texture beneath his lips, the way it moved with her steady breathing. He stroked her slender thighs, on the outer surface first, and then the inner, and lifted her hips up so that he could remove her knickers. Naked, T'Sel still looked essentially human, her exotic face aside. She had a neat bush of jet black hair on her mound, which Leandro stroked and kissed. He fancied he heard her sigh at that, but no more, and it was gone in an instant. He pulled her thighs slightly apart, positioning himself between them. He glanced up, seeing her watch him with a polite, enquiring expression, and then ran his tongue along the length of her slit. When she still didn't respond, he went further, pressing the tip of his tongue between her lips, then beginning to move it in slow circles. "Co-experimenter is conducting oral stimulation," said T'Sel, "a possibility I had not considered. This is inducing an unusual sensation, which exceeds that produced by my earlier attempts at self-stimulation, likely because of the absence of emotional repression on the... oh!" That last musical gasp was induced as he reached her clitoris – fortunately in the exact same position that it was on human women. Leandro needed absolutely no inducement to repeat the action. "I am experiencing a high level of... ah... stimulation induced by... oh... mmm, that... physiological levels of arousal reaching... oh... yes, just there... ahh..." While he didn't really have any comparisons, Leandro had long considered himself good at this, and Lisa from Life Support had certainly agreed, before they parted company. T'Sel's gasps were quiet, remarkable only by the fact that they existed at all, and her spoken words between them still calm and neutral, a gentle commentary on his actions. He glanced up, watching her look at him wide-eyed, her lips slightly parted, but otherwise cool and collected, not bursting with passion. He changed his motions, probing his tongue further in, teasing her clit as he did so. She was becoming wet now, for all that it didn't show on her face, and he noted that her taste was only a little different from that of a human. Clearly the two species were not so different when it came down to it. But there was one notable difference that he really should have expected, but had not. T'Sel, of course, had copper-based blood, and where he had assumed she would be pink, she was instead, a pale shade of green. A similar shade was beginning to tinge her increasingly swollen labia as he continued to tease her. "I am finding maintenance of emotional detachment increasingly... oh... difficult." She could have fooled him, from the way she was speaking, her little cries aside. He didn't want to break her, to change who she was, and found her steady composure attractive, but at the same time he was delighted that he had found a chink in it, and only wanted to test those limits further. For a moment, he stopped in his ministrations, letting his eyes wander over the naked body before him. T'Sel gently pushed his head back down again, letting out a long sigh as his pink tongue once again probed deep into her green slit. This time his finger joined it, prompting another quiet gasp from the Vulcan woman. One of her hands ruffled his hair, keeping his head down to its appointed task. His free hand caressed her hips and buttocks before moving up her side, feeling a little hammering heartbeat beneath her skin in quite the wrong place for it to be on a human. After pausing there for a little while, Leandro slid the hand up further, cupping one of T'Sel's breasts, softly kneading it and teasing her nipple... a nipple, he noted, that was now decidedly erect. She stopped talking for a while, the silence broken only by the sound of Leandro's slow lapping, and the Vulcan's occasional tiny cries of pleasure in response. T'Sel's hips, previously motionless, were beginning to move in an involuntary motion, pushing herself into him, as her free hand clenched and unclenched on the rich white fabric of the bedsheet. At last, he decided that she had had enough, breaking free of her grasp and moving up beside her on the bed. They kissed, his mouth still damp with her juices, while their hands explored each other's body anew. He bent down, and kissed one of her breasts, rolling round the erect nipple with his tongue, applying a slight suction with his lips. Freeing it, he moved over her again, gazing into her eyes beneath those exotically slanted brows, stroking her cheek with one finger, tangling it in the loose strand of black hair that fell down before her ear. She was still unreadable, lips parted but her dark eyes showing only cool and unfathomable depths. "Ready?" he whispered into her ear. She nodded. Leandro could not help but let out a groan of delight as he pushed himself inside her; he had never wanted anyone as badly as he wanted T'Sel right now, and the feel of her soft, slightly cool wetness tight around his cock was pure bliss. For her part, the Vulcan woman let out another gasp, her eyes wide for a moment before her neutral expression re-asserted itself. "Penetration achieved," she said, the lilting musical quality of her voice driving him to distraction, "sensations indes... ahhh... indescribable. Overwhelming pleasure. Involuntary physiological reactions beginning to... beginning to..." She broke off, little gasps escaping her lips with more regularity now as he continued to move inside her, finding a rhythm that seemed to suit her. They kissed and caressed, with Leandro determined to drag it out for as long as possible. Her body was undoubtedly responding, her swollen nipples hard against his chest, her hips grinding against his, legs shifting position as he ground into her over and over. Her cries became harder, and she gripped his head with both hands, brown eyes staring into his. He was seeing some reaction in them now, but only a hint, little enough that he wondered if it might be his imagination. Regardless, he slowed his motion, bringing her down again so that it didn't all end too soon. He caressed her face, ran a finger along the edge of her ears before they kissed and cuddled again, languidly moving hands and legs until he felt it was time to begin again. Time lost all meaning as the cycle continued, he bringing her close then relaxing again. He was intoxicated by her, by the scent of her, the beauty of her face, the sound of those tiny cries, by the way she stroked his back and buttocks, the way she moved her body, the way her hips responded to his... all of it. It had never been like this with anyone before, a wondrous, slow dance that seemed to go on and on, never diminishing. But no human had stamina that could last forever, and Leandro knew that, no matter how long his Vulcan lover could continue for, he would eventually fade. He began to slow increase the tempo and depth of his thrusts, watching her face all the time. When, this time, he didn't slow, T'Sel's eyes widened and she gave a little nod of encouragement. His pace quickened further as she let out cry after cry, gripping him tightly as he brought her ever close to the brink. At last, for one remarkable, incredible moment, the Vulcan's calm broke. Her eyes blazed with a deep passion, her expression turning to one of desperate need and erotic hunger. She cried out, loudly this time, head thrown back, flushing a deep green across her cheeks. Leandro came with unexpected force as T'Sel arched her back, fingers digging into him with alien strength. Her whole body shook with the force of her orgasm before her long, drawn out cry faded into muted whimpering. She clung to him tightly as he finally softened and withdrew. He stroked her hair, rolling over onto his side as he held her, and waited for the last of her shuddering to subside. Her head fell into the crook of his shoulder and he kissed her forehead as her breathing returned to normal. Even then, though, she did not let him go. She murmured something, muffled by his body, too quiet to hear. Gently, he tilted her head, and made a querying sound as he looked into her eyes, the usual Vulcan calm now fully back in place. "I said: 'hypothesis confirmed'."