The Seven Year Itch

Author's notes: I haven't written fan fiction in years. I used to have another screen name on here, but I forgot (and ceased using) the email account and the password, so I will leave that screen name entombed forever somewhere on this website… mostly because it is nearing a decade since some of it was written, and I would rather it be forgotten.

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Poised in silence, Spock meditates in his quarters. Having been recently troubled with emotional problems, he has increased greatly the time that he spends on this quiet reflection period, teaching himself to bury his human conditions. Computer-simulated candlelight flickers around his black-clad frame, and he sways ever so slightly back and forth, pushed by the activity within his mind.

Soft noises slip unconsciously from his throat, akin to human noises during the sleep phase. Normally, this would be unacceptable for a Vulcan, but tonight, there is more on his mind than his usual attempts to suppress overflowing emotion. He almost feels as though there were maggots and bugs crawling beneath his skin, swimming in his veins, biting at the insides of his flesh, burrowing in his bones.

He remembers vividly the days of his youth on Vulcan, living a childhood mostly within logical parameters. However, as with Earth children, there are plenty of illogical events that occur when a Vulcan child grows up, and pon farr is one of those events that few can ever seem to overcome.

The "sex talk" is even worse for Vulcans than it is for Humans. On Earth, it is a sort of rite of passage that everyone goes through, everyone relates to, and everyone regards with at least some humor. This is unfortunately not true of Vulcans. Were it not for the painful embarrassment that still causes his cheeks to flood with a greenish tinge, he might be able to smirk at his memory of Amanda explaining to him.

For Sarek, pon farr was something that just could not be talked about. He was far too uncomfortable, and rather than feel embarrassment, shame, or fear, he thought it best to ignore it, only explaining it to his son as "logical duties" to the race. Secretly, he enjoyed it as did his sexually-liberated human wife, but that was in private only, and it would never be something to be discussed with his son. He noted the embarrassment and general sickness that would threaten to overcome him whenever he thought of his own parents having "the talk" with young Sarek.

Amanda, however, was not going to allow her son to grow up without the sex talk. She wanted him to understand sexuality, be it human or Vulcan. The last thing she wanted was for a young Spock to be experiencing the intense sexual urges of pon farr and not know what was happening to him. She also didn't want him attempting to mate with one whom he was in love, or at the very least, bonded.

"Spock, my son… Please come here, darling." She called to the upper level, her warm smile and inviting arms beckoning the boy over. His eyes were wide with a tepid fear—he was slowly becoming more Vulcan by the day, and so he was not as fearful as he was this time last year.

"Yes, mother?" Spock is all of about 10 years old; still a boy, but quickly approaching manhood and thus, pon farr. "I was practicing my meditation."

"I know, darling, but since your father has just left, I felt it would be proper to speak to you now." She squeezed his shoulder and pulled him close to her, kissing his dark scalp. He could not see, but he could feel her shake a little bit.

"Mother, what is wrong?" He asked, becoming more fearful and less controlled. "Are you ill? Shall I call Father for help?" He backed away, headed for a communicator.

"No, no, my dear. We need to have a talk, and I must admit, I am a little bit nervous, as I've only been through this type of thing once or perhaps twice before." She smiled nervously and led him over to a pleasant sofa.

"What kind of talk?" He ventured, trying to hide his own nervousness. He suspected and theorized what it could be, perhaps something to do with a recent suicide a few blocks away. He wondered if children of other planets had trepidation at the thought of a close talk with their parents.

"You may have noticed or experienced some strange… behaviors… lately, and I want to explain to you what is happening." Her warm smile had turned into a worried frown.

"Mother, if this is about T'lure having taken his own life, I assure you that I have no desire to do as such. In fact…" He said, attempting to stop her embarrassment and fear.

"No, no, no, honey… you didn't want to… did you?" She eyed him curiously, and he looked rather puzzled. "No, honey, I want to talk about sex."

"Mother, I already understand the concept of sexual intercourse." The sight of a ten-year-old boy using that phrase was comical, but Amanda could not allow herself to laugh. Sex was not something she wanted her son to be embarrassed about; she wanted him to find a mate and have a healthy sex life.

"Not just sex, my son. Pon Farr."

"Pon farr… the mating urge." He mumbled, realizing that he was caught in an awkward trap.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of… You will have an intense desire to mate with someone, and should you find a th'y'la… a lover… then you will very strongly wish to have a child with her. You were designed this way, it is perfectly natural."

"But I am too young to raise a child!" He squeaked, eyes welling up with tears.

BANG!

Spock was startled from his memory, though it was not entirely unwelcome to be ripped from the embarrassment he felt. His eyelids parted, revealing a hint of annoyance within the brown-black orbs.

BANG! BANG!

"Spock? Can I come in?" Kirk was banging on the door.

"Enter." Spock wanted to sigh, but he controlled it very well, and attempted to return to his previous state.

The door slid open, revealing a dressed-down Kirk. Unlike Spock's tasteful, Federation-issue black sleep clothes, Kirk wore a black tank top with holes appearing below his underarm area, and neon yellow pants with some juvenile cartoon character on it. "Hey, uh… I was just going through doing some important paperwork…" Kirk greeted, flushed with a bit of embarrassment. "I heard you were requesting your vacation time, and I was wondering why. We've only been on this mission for a couple of days…"

Spock let out a breath of air, not quite as loud as a sigh, but noticeable. "Noting your flustered mannerisms, I sense that you already know the answer to your own question."

"Uh, yeah… Soooooooo…" The blond man trailed, trying to come up with the proper words, trying to avoid the hard staring eyes of his First Officer. "How exactly does pon farr work? Is it like a sex thing, or…"

Spock blinked away the annoyance, and tried to focus all his energy on not blushing green himself. "Captain?"

"When Vulcans go through pon farr, do you like… want it all the time, or…"

"It seems that you are mistaking constant sexual desire for the physical urge to mate and produce a child." Spock said, the slightest hint of annoyance present in his voice. Kirk looked at him sheepishly with a blank expression.

Before he could say anything, however, Spock continued his explanation. "Every seven years, from the onset of adulthood, Vulcan males and bonded females go through pon farr—the mating drive of our race. Very obviously, it is the driving force behind the continuation of our population." Kirk nodded, seeming a bit disappointed in the boring answer. Spock sighed again. "It's not an enjoyable experience, Jim."

"Why is it not enjoyable? Is sex not fun on your planet?" Kirk was highly confused, and he stepped around Spock, his eyes roaming the room as he spoke. "Does pon farr happen because Vulcans don't like having sex?" He turned back, the cocky confidence returning to his face as he lifted an eyebrow and smirked.

Spock felt the tables being turned, and he flushed a little bit more. "I didn't say that. I said that pon farr was not an enjoyable experience. Sex…" His thoughts flashed briefly to Uhura during his pause. "Sexual relations are highly pleasurable for the Vulcan race, and it is one of few things that Vulcans permit themselves to enjoy, albeit very, very privately."

"Oh… My… God…" Kirk's small smirk blossomed into a full-on grin. "You're embarrassed by it, aren't you? Tell me, are Vulcans ashamed of it, or just a select few of you?

"You know, Jim… Captain… Not all of us are proud of sexual promiscuity." Spock attempted to usher him to the door by stepping closer into Kirk's comfort zone.

"Not all of us are ashamed of enjoying ourselves and our partners." Kirk backed towards the door.

"Very well, Jim, why don't you return to your quarters and enjoy yourself then?" Spock turned the tables back with the slightest upturn of his mouth and a single eyebrow lifted. With a gentle shove, he pushed Kirk into the corridor, smirking to himself as he did so. With a characteristic whoosh, the door shut and locked behind him.

The young blond Captain started to walk away to his own quarters before he paused.

'Wait a minute…' Kirk thought with a puzzled expression. 'Did he just tell me to go fuck myself?'