Homecoming - Christie Golden [29]
“Annika,” said Irene. “Sweet, sweet child. Welcome home.”
Three days after the welcome-home banquet, Tuvok materialized in the front hall of his own home. The colors were slightly different. He took a moment to note the changes his wife had made in his absence. Instead of the muted, dark purple hues he remembered, there were now shades of blue and green. The ancient urn that had stood in the hallway alcove had been moved to the top of the stairs. It had been replaced by a landscape painting of the Voroth Sea. It was quite striking. Looking closer, he saw that it bore the name of his youngest child, T’Pev. He raised an eyebrow. T’Pev had always had an eye for fine art, and it was good to see that the child had not squandered her talents.
“They told us that you did not wish us to travel to [83] Earth to greet you, once Sek had completed the fal-tor-voh,” a soft, female voice said.
Despite himself, despite his years of discipline, Tuvok could not suppress a quickening of his pulse. He did not permit himself to turn around immediately.
“That is correct,” he said, keeping his voice modulated. “There was no logic in disrupting the present status of your lives for an excessive and unnecessary human-inspired celebration. Once I was cured, I would then be debriefed and able to return to Vulcan shortly thereafter.”
“I agree, husband,” said T’Pel, stepping into the light as he turned around. “There was no reason to rush this reunion. I have waited seven years for your safe return. A few days more is insignificant. I trust that the fal-tor-voh was successful?”
“Entirely. Sek is a worthy son and performed the mind-meld admirably.”
He moved toward her. They were only inches apart now. Her shining brown eyes, tranquil as a pool on temple grounds, met his evenly. Slowly, Tuvok lifted his right hand and extended the first two fingers. T’Pel hesitated, and then lifted her own hand. Their fingers touched.
He did not wish it, but something stirred within him. Tuvok was still recovering from the effects of the recently cured neurological dysfunction. The mind-meld with Sek had been a balm to an injury. Peace had descended upon Tuvok’s restless, churning mind once more as his son reached and touched his mind, calmly eradicating all hints of the degeneration.
A faint frown rippled across T’Pel’s smooth, lovely [84] face as she sensed the agony and confusion he had undergone ... and something more. Something that was, no doubt, directly caused by the lingering effects of the condition.
“On the other hand,” T’Pel continued smoothly, “it is also illogical to behave as if you had not been gone for so long a time, is it not?”
“Most illogical,” he agreed. Her flesh was warm against his, her mind open to him through the intimate touch of finger against finger.
Although he had, most inconveniently, undergone Pon farr very recently aboard Voyager, where the primal desires thus roused were slaked by a holographic version of the female now standing before him, Tuvok experienced an echo of that powerful desire. Sensing his thoughts, T’Pel lifted an eyebrow in inquiry.
There was no need for words. As he accompanied his wife to their bedchamber, Tuvok reflected on how, under certain extreme circumstances, the descent of Pon farr was not always required to elicit the mating response.
Chapter 7
THE FORMER FIRST OFFICER AND CAPTAIN of the U.S.S. Voyager had enjoyed the past few days they’d spent together, although Chakotay refused to reveal their destination.
The ship that he jokingly called the “Alpha Flyer” zipped along with a smoothness that belied its rough exterior. laneway relaxed and