Archive of Our Own ^beta

“I was wondering...if you would be interested in attending a Vulcan thirst party.”

“If would a what now?” I said eloquently.  

Sarda shifted in his boots.  “Perhaps the translation is less than adequate,” he suggested.“I mean,” I stumbled.  “I’m not saying I’m not interested, I just don’t know what I’m agreeing to.”

“It is…” he hesitated. “It is, in essence, a gathering in which unbonded Vulcans attempt to find compatible mates.”

“I uhhhhh…”

“Then...you are not interested?"

“I didn’t say that!” I said defensively.  “I just, I um...where is it?”

“...at the Vulcan nightclub in downtown San Francisco,” said Sarda, not sounding entirely comfortable.

“Vulcan nightclub, of course,” I muttered.  “I uh, when would that be?”

“Tonight at nineteen hundred hours,” said Sarda.

I swallowed and grinned.  “Guess I’ll find out what a Vulcan nightclub is like,” I said.

The Vulcan nightclub was somehow both less and more intense than I had expected.  There were no flashing lights, but there WAS music with a steady beat, and pairs on the floor dancing in what sort of resembled a square dance, without touching one another.  A few pairs had pulled to the sides and appeared to be brushing their hands against each other.

“Greetings,” said a very attractive Vulcan woman with long black hair and severe bangs.  “Are you...attending at the invitation of anyone?”

“I uhhhhhh,” I said eloquently.  “I...yes. Yes, I am, actually.”

“I see,” she said with palpable disappointment.  “Well, should you decide not to maintain contact with your inviter, my name is T’Rella.”

“I…” I stammered.  “I’m Piper. I’ll remember that.”  I wasn’t lying, either. The woman was GORGEOUS.

She nodded and drifted away toward the back of the club.

“I see you have arrived,” said Sarda from behind me.

“I, um, yes,” I stammered again, turning and trying not to stare too hard into his gorgeous amber eyes.  Why were Vulcans so attractive?!

“Would you….perhaps like to obtain a drink with me?”

“I would love that,” I said, somehow managing not to stutter this time.

He gestured towards the bar, and I took my first look at the menu.  There were the old favorites I had expected, like gin and tonic or rum and coke, but there were also a number of drinks I wouldn’t really have expected at a bar...like ten different varieties of hot chocolate.

“Alcohol does not affect Vulcans the way it does humans,” said Sarda, eyeing the menu himself.  “But chocolate generally does.” With that he ordered a spicy chocolate liqueur and coffee drink and then looked at me.

He was willing to let his guard fall, I read in that.  The question was whether I was.

“Gin and cranberry,” I ordered to the vulcan barkeeper, whose gender was surprisingly unapparent.  Apparently I had stumbled on the gathering place of where Vulcans with less common gender and preferences had decided to congregate...and apparently Sarda’s interest in a human somehow put him in a similar social category.

He’s interested in a human and that human is you, said the logical part of my mind.  I shut it off by taking a big swig of my newly arrived gin and cranberry mixer.

Sarda watched me and took a matching drink of his chocolate drink.

“So,” I said nodding at the general venue around us.  “You promised me you’d explain how this party works.”

Sarda swallowed uncomfortably and took and extra shot of his chocolate drink.

“It is a gathering,” he started, hedging.  “Of Vulcans who are unbonded.”

“Yeah, I think you’re going to have to start a little earlier than that,” I said.  “What do you mean by‘unbonded’?”

He took yet another swallow of chocolate, which I matched with alcohol.  

“I supposed you could say...unmarried,” he said finally.  “Though it is rather more than that.”

“‘Single’?” I suggested.

“Essentially,” agreed Sarda in some relief.  “In essence, it is a gathering whose point is to find a partner.”

“A partner who might not fit more….mainstream ideals of what a partner should look like?” I suggested.

“That is...not incorrect,” said Sarda.

“So this might be where gay Vulcans would show up?” I said, pressing my luck

“They might.”

“Or perhaps...ones interested in human partners?”

I took another long pull at my drink and so did he.

“It is not that you are incorrect…” he said, hedging like anything.

“But?” I asked.

“But...only if you are interested in a vulcan partner.”

I grinned, suddenly sure this whole situation was hilarious.  “Well, you’re not my only offer,” I said.

Sarda blinked.  “No?” he said.

“No,” I agreed.  “Though at this point…..I must say, you are the most tempting.”

Sarda looked at me, didn’t change his face, and took another shot.

“By a very small margin,” I amended and took another sip.

“I...see,” said Sarda, though I was fairly sure he didn’t.

“Nevertheless,” I said. “Still, you are the most tempting.”  I grinned, slightly tipsily, at him. “Why don’t you teach me a dance or two?”

“Vulcan dances are...best learned sober,” he said. 

“Ok,” I said, “but what if we didn’t learn them sober.”

“Then we would probably do them incorrectly,” said Sarda.

“I’m ok with that,” I said, already tipsy enough not to give any fucks.

Sarda seemed to consider that a moment, and then stood and gestured towards the dance floor.

“The steps go like this,” he said, demonstrating about twenty-eight steps in front of me.

“Uh… like this?” I said, attempting about eight of them.

“....more or less,” he said, and moved his feet again.

I did my best to copy him, backwards, which was really messing with my head.  Sarda did a spin at the end of one beat, and I followed him on the next. On the outside of the turn, I saw the woman who had been talking to me at the beginning of thenight staring at us, or possibly just at me.  

“Hey Sarda,” I ventured, trying to talk and dance at the same time.  “That woman over there asked me if I was here with anyone. Do you think she was hitting on me?”

“It is likely,” said Sarda, doing another sudden spin in place.  “Those who are drawn to the same sex frequently congregate at such establishments.”

“I….huh,” I said, still trying my best to keep up.

“You...disapprove?” said Sarda.

“Huh? Of course not.  I’m bisexual myself. I just…” I shook my head.  “I guess it just seems weird to me that Vulcans have any sexualities at all, and I know that’s not remotely logical of me.”

Sarda was silent for another moment as we continued the steps that had started to create a pattern that made sense to my brain.

“If my observations are correct,” he said finally, “Vulcans do not approach sexuality the same way that humans do. For us, telepathic contact is more...primary.”

“I’m...not sure I understand,” I said.  

“It seems to me that humans tend to know simply on sight who they might be sexually compatible with, is that correct?” he asked.

“I mean….yeah?” I said.  “I mean, we might end up being wrong about it, but I can at least tell who I’m attracted to.”

“Vulcans, generally, cannot,” he said.

“...what?”

Sarda took a deep breath.  “Generally that stage is not reached until some level of telepathic contact has been established.”

“So like...inviting me here doesn’t mean you’re interested in me?”

The song picked a convenient, or possibly inconvenient, moment to stop, and we were left facing each other with no distractions.

“It would….perhaps be more accurate to say that I am interested in becoming interested in you,” said Sarda.

“O....kay,” I said.  “I think.”

Sarda took a steadying breath.  “I cannot say I understand human customs on this matter,” he said.  “I can only say that I…” he swallowed. “I find myself drawn to you, and would be interested in deepenng such a connection as we already have.

“Oh,” I said dumbly.  “I, uh…” I took a deep breath and tried to clear my alcohol addled senses.  

“You….are not similarly interested?” said Sarda neutrally.

“Wait no!” I said.  “I mean…” I swallowed.  “I can’t really say I understand it either, but if you’re willing to brave the unknown for me, I don’t want to do any less for you.”

“I see,” said Sarda, with a larger release of breath than he usually allowed sober.  “Then, if I may ask...what is is that you experience towards me?”

“I’d kind of like to jump your bones,” I admitted.

Sarda just looked confused.

“I’d...have sex with you right now if you were interested,” I amended.  “But like...I feel kind of similarly towards the woman I was talking about?  And possibly a few other people in the room? But you’re the only one I would actually give in to that impulse with.  I….don’t know if that makes much sense.”

“Not greatly,” said Sarda.  “But I will take your word for it.”

“So you...don’t feel the same way about me?”

“I...find that I would very much like to touch your mind,” he said. “Anything further would come afterward.”

“Ok,” I said.  “So uh...you want...to mind-meld with me?”

Sarda hesitated again. “I...yes,” he said.  “But perhaps a less invasive form of mental contact would be appropriate first.”

“Like what?”

Sarda gestured towards one of the couples who had moved towards the edges of the room.  “Vulcan fingers are a highly sensitive area for telepathic contact.”

I glanced at the couple, two women, who were gently touching fingers together. “So that’s like...what, making out?”

“I do not know what that means.”

“I might have to show you at some point,” I said.  “But I mean...you want to try that?

“...yes,” said Sarda. 

“Ok,” I said.  “I mean, I don’t think I understand it, but let’s see what happens, yeah?”

Sarda gestured towards an empty spot on the wall.  I followed him.

“It is called the ozh’esta,” he said, “which I suppose could be termed...a finger-kiss?”

“Ok,” I said, “so how does it work?” 

In response, he folded his last two fingers and his thumb in and held out his index and middle fingers.  “Like so,” he said, and held them out.

I copied the gesture, not sure where it was going.

He reached out a little further and gently brushed his fingers against the side of mine, leaving a strange but not unpleasant tingling sensation in their wake.

Sarda stopped and pulled back.  “Is this...acceptable to you?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” I said.  “Better try again to be certain.” I reached out and brushed my own fingers against his, up and then down again against his skin.

Sarda visibly shivered, a fact which I chose to attribute to his chocolate-inebriated state.

“Are you….certain now?” he asked.  “Or would you prefer to continue the attempt?”

“I think I’m sure,” I said, continuing the motion of my fingers.  “But that doesn’t seem to be a reason to stop.”

It was strangely enjoyable, even if half the fun was watching his control falter under my touch.  That kind of power could easily be addicting.

“Indeed,” said Sarda, and I abruptly remembered what he had said about telepathic contact and pulled away in embarrassment.

“I...cannot read your thoughts through this level of contact,” he hedged.  “Only general impulsed and emotions. Anything further is mere guesswork.”

“Oh,” I said sheepishly, still embarrassed.

“That is why I thought you might not be entirely comfortable with a mind-meld,” said Sarda.  “It is much more….intimate.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling more naked than I ever had with my clothes off.

“There is of course no need to do so if you are not interested,” Sarda hastened to add.

“It’s just….all very new to me,” I said, and then grinned.  “I’m a virgin all over again, so I guess I’ll just say let’s go slow.”

“Again?” said Sarda, and then shook his head.  “Ah yes, I momentary forgot human custom on the matter.”

“Human custom?”

“I have never engaged in sexual congress,” he said. “Most Vulcans of my life stage have not.”

“Oh?” I said.  “Are you...looking to change that?”

“I would...not necessarily be opposed.

“Well then,” I said.  “My apartment’s not far, if you want to continue this...social experiment.”

“That would be agreeable.

I grinned and turned toward the door, then thought and turned back for the moment.  “Just one more question before we leave…” I said. “Thirst Party?”

Sarda frowned.  “Because of the drinks?”

“....oh."