I was completely blown away by the response to How to Get the Vulcan You Want…I'd like to thank everyone who read, reviewed and favorited that story and my other two S/U fics (Discoveries and Appetite – tell your friends!).

This sequel is fluffy and nonsensical with lots of OOC moments (especially with Spock, who's a little, ahem, passionate in this fic), but it's also funny. I hope.

Oh, and there's lots of smut, both yellow and red-level, and some Gaila because people seemed to want more of each. If you don't like the description of sexual relationships between consenting adults, please don't read this.

Paramount and Roddenberry (may he rest in peace) own all of this. I'm just borrowing Spock, Uhura and Gaila and giving them something to do while the next movie gets made.

Eternal thanks to miss steph for being my beta and friend; lady, you rock at both!

The Masai Mara is the Masai Mara National Reserve; it covers 1530 kilometers in south-western Kenya. As the Nyota in my mind is from Kenya, it made sense to have her there.

~*~What Would Doctor Flenderson Do? by outtabreath~*~

~Part One of Six: 1645 Hours, Sunday~

The green horse and I are cantering through the Masai Mara and it is warm and sultry, the way the best days of my childhood were. The birds are calling each other in the acacia tree and I can see zebra in the distance. I lean low over the horse's neck and rub my face in its mane. A shudder passes through the beast at the contact. I stroke its long, lean neck gently, calming it. The sound of the birds intensifies and I continue to croon to the horse. A sweet wind swirls around me and brushes the back of my neck with my name.




The wind called me away from Africa, but I was still warm, the wind was still on my neck, and it was still calling my name.

"Nyota, it is 1615 hours. I must begin to prepare for our dinner."


"Dinner isn't until 1800 hours," I pointed out, trying to get my eyes to focus on the wall; it was hard as I was being distracted by the very warm, very firm body pressed very close to mine. "You're naturally gorgeous. How on Earth do you need almost two hours to get ready?"

"Cadet, the proper question is: What does said preparation entail?"

I craned my head back to look at him.

His eyes were doing that smoldering thing.

"Oh," I said, "that kind of preparation."

"Yes," he said, moving so I could slip under his hot, hard body.

"Did you sleep?" I asked him.

"I was not in need of rest," he replied, his eyes drifted to my lips.

"Did I snore or drool? Gaila says I do both but I think she's lying," I said, starting to worry about what I may have done for the last hour or so.

"Nyota, do you really wish to discuss this now?"

"I'd feel a lot more comfortable and relaxed if I knew that I didn't do anything humiliating while you were not-sleeping beside me."

"You pressed your body against mine…."

"Cuddled," I clarified.

"And you went to sleep," he continued. "You did not snore. You did not drool. You spoke in your sleep last night, but you did not do so this afternoon."

"I don't talk in my sleep," I said.

"You did while you were sleeping under the influence of alcohol."

"What'd I say?" I demanded, trying to remain calm. The thought of what my drunk, undefended subconscious might have cheerfully told him was even more horrifying than the thought of drooling and/or snoring around him – I had been prepared for those eventualities at least.

"It was most fascinating. You spoke a few words of Swahili and Vulcan. You recited the first ten Ferengi Rules of Acquisition and a word I did not recognize."

"What word?"


Damn it!

"Just a friend," I said quickly. "Was there anything else?"

"And you said my name."

I blinked dumbly at him. "I said your name?"

He nodded.

"And what did I say next? After I said your name, what did I say?"

He rolled aside – I instantly missed his body on mine – and propped himself up on his elbow and looked at me. "You did not say anything else; you smiled and turned over and your respiration and body movement became consistent with that of a Human entering stage two of non-rapid eye movement sleep. You remained in that state for seventy-five minutes before you began to move your legs slightly, indicating that you were entering stage three of non-rapid eye movement sleep. Do you wish for me to continue?"

"Not really, just tell me if I said anything else."

"You did not say anything else."

"Okay," I said, relief flooding me that I hadn't confessed all of my horrible secrets – starting and ending with Dr. Flenderson and the steps. And that summer when my sister and I….

He cocked his head, diverting me. "Are you satisfied now? May we proceed?"

"Oh we're proceeding," I said, pushing him onto his back so I could kiss my way down his neck and chest.


"Don't worry, I won't hurt you," I whispered.

His hands reached for my shoulders, trying to pull me back up. I batted his hands away. "I want to do this."

"It is not necessary," he said.

I looked at down at him, he was ready, hard and heavy.

I looked back at him. "I want to get to know your body a little more. Will you let me do that, Commander? Will you?"

He dropped his head back in defeat. "If you must."

I chuckled. I've never had to talk a man into oral sex. Everything with Spock was different.

I continued to taste the skin of his torso, watching in amazement as his nipples stood under my fingertips, tracing the swirls of hair, following the lines of muscle down further.

I took my time investigating. The first two times we'd made love we'd both been too caught up in the conflagration triggered by finally being together, naked and touching, to spend much time tracing and learning.

I wanted to take the time now.

I wanted to see his penis up close and personal; I'd seen glimpses of it, of course, as it slid and thrust – but I wanted to touch it and taste it.

After I spent some time here.

His fingers twisted in the sheets as I continued my ministrations. I could hear his breathing speed up; his skin flushed a pale green. I smoothed the palms of my hands over the skin I'd just licked. I met his eyes; he was staring at me openly.

"Has anyone ever taken your penis in their mouth before, Commander?"

"Nyota, is this what Humans call 'talking dirty?'" he asked, his fingers tightening against the outside of his thighs; he seemed to have a hard time speaking.

I laughed. "That was a question, Spock – talking dirty is much, well, dirtier. For example, I could've asked, has anyone ever slipped your hard cock in their wet mouth before?"

I wasn't a big fan of dirty talk, but it was kind of fun to see Spock squirm.

His chest heaved up and down, his fingers flexed, his ears turned particularly green. "I perceive the difference."

"I'm happy," I said, sliding lower, and settling myself comfortably between his legs. "Now, can you please answer my question? Have you ever experienced this before?"

"No," he said, his voice low and quiet, almost shy.

I smiled widely; his eyebrow went up in response.

I focused on the matter at hand. It was large – I had known that from when it was inside me – and perfectly formed. And green.

I spared a moment of thanks to my sex-crazed roommate. I was happy I'd had time to wrap my mind around the concept before I was called upon to wrap my hand and mouth around the reality.

I stroked the head gently; Spock's hips thrust up in response.

"So that feels good," I said conversationally.

"I regret my loss of control, Nyota. Please forgive me."

I sighed and blew a warm puff of air over the rigid flesh. "I want you to lose control, Spock; in fact, I'm going to push you very hard and you're going to explode and I am going to enjoy it very much. And so are you." And, with that, I sucked his hard flesh deep into my mouth. He grunted and his legs shook around me.

He was holding back and I was not having that.

Dr. Flenderson would make her man crazy with desire.

And so would I.

I sucked and licked and touched every millimeter of him, making sure to pay attention to the movements that made him shake, made him breathe through his mouth, made him grow bigger, impossibly bigger and harder, in my mouth. I stroked the inside of his thighs, his balls, his perineum.

And then he broke, his hands left the bed and went to my hair, tightening in the strands, his breath came in short explosive gasps, he called my name, his hips pistoned off the bed and he came.

I moved with him as the climax continued to run its course through his body.

Triumphant, I stretched out beside him and ran my fingertips across his face. He pulled me closer, obviously planning on kissing me.

"Uh," I protested. "I'll go brush my teeth first."

He shook his head and pulled me to his mouth.

Oooo, kinky Vulcan.

After several breathless kisses, he released me. "Nyota, I have never…."

"Yes?" I prompted.

"I find that I possess no words to describe that experience or any of the experiences with you this afternoon."

"But they're good, right?"

"Good is a wholly inadequate term, but, as I cannot formulate a more appropriate response I will agree with your statement."

"Do they teach you that on Vulcan?" I asked, cuddling into his side. His fingers began to skim over my body, "How to make even bedroom talk sound like a doctoral-level thesis?"

"We do not discuss such matters on Vulcan," he said, his eyes following his fingers. "What I know of such things is derived from study and very minimal practical experience."

"And none of the practical experience included what I just did?"

"No, it did not."

"I'm good with that," I said, pride flooding through me. I liked being a first for him.

"Females enjoy similar attentions, I believe," he said quietly, like he was making a comment on my Romulan pronunciation.

"Yes, we most certainly do," I said quickly, "I enjoy such attentions."

His fingers slid lower. "You will guide me?"

"Happily," I said; my good luck would just not end – I had Spock and he was willing to learn how to do things the way I liked them, not the way he thought I should.

And to think, if I hadn't bought that book I'd probably be out touring Oxford with Boris, not here with Spock willing and able to take instruction.

Thank you, fingers!

He guided me onto my back and began to drop kisses along my breasts, gentle and perfect kisses. "Exactly," I hissed, then gasped as he experimentally took a nipple in his mouth and laved it. "Perfect." He replicated his motions on the breast's twin, then ran his fingers over my breast bone, following it down to my belly button and lower still, over my pubic mount and between my legs.

He looked up at me.

I took a deep breath; I figured I wouldn't be able to breathe much longer. "First, brush across the lips with your fingers."

He did as instructed, very lightly – like he was afraid to hurt me.

"Harder," I said, covering his hand with mine and showing him. "This," I said, guiding his fingers, "is the clitoris."

"I have read of this. It is very important in female sexual pleasure."

"Yes," I whimpered as his fingers caught the needy bit of flesh. "Always, always remember where it is. I like tight, hard circles."

He followed my directions exactly, the sensations were building too fast, too furious. I had to slow this down.

He had more learning ahead of him.

I grabbed his hand and stilled his movements.

"Was I not effective?"

"No, no, no," I said, "You were too effective. I need to show you something else."


Like you could stop me.

I guided his index finger – the same finger I'd watched with avidity for two years - between the petal-soft lips and into my body. I gasped at the sensation, at a favorite fantasy fulfilled.

"Add another finger," I said between gasps. Once he had followed direction I showed him how to slide in and out, how to use his thumb on my clitoris.

"Another finger, please," I said.

He complied and my fingers fell away from his hand and my hands flew over my head, seeking for the headboard, something, anything that I could grab and use to ground myself.

He moved in and out of my body, doing just as I had told him and the sensations built again. I was going to come and come hard.

"Keep doing exactly that," I panted, my eyes tightly closed as I let the waves of pleasure wash over me.

But he stopped. "I wish to taste you," he said, his voice raspy – close to his growl.

I whimpered with senseless need. "Spock."

He leaned forward and closed his mouth over the little nexus of nerves and his fingers kept moving and I forgot how to breathe, swallow, do anything but feel his mouth on me.

I was keening and convulsing within seconds.

His body covered mine and he was tipping my hips and entering me before I had fully recovered.

I was going to need to teach him about Human sexual responses and recovery time, but for now it was fine, it was good, it was too much but not too much. I grabbed his shoulders and threw my hips up at him as he pummeled into me. His eyes were wide and open and I searched for a sign of what he was feeling, then his eyelids slid closed and his thrusts became deeper, erratic. I pulled his mouth down to mine and slid my tongue between his teeth and he began to shudder and pulse; I let him carry me along to where I shuddered and pulsed, too.

His weight crushed down on me and I could feel him whispering into the skin of my neck.

"What'd you say?" I squeaked. My whole body was still coursing with what felt like electricity.

"Most remarkable," he said, rolling to the side and bearing me with him.

"You are the master of understatement."

"I do not mean to understate anything, Nyota. Words seem to be inadequate to describe what has transpired between us."

"I can't believe it. I was able to stymie the great Commander Spock."

"That is the case."

I giggled and kissed the column of his neck. He needed to shave.

Damn it.

"Computer, time?"

"1708 hours," both the computer and Spock answered.

"That's creepy," I pointed out, wiggling out of his arms and out of bed. Sheer willpower forced my body to move.

"I have a very precise internal clock. It is not 'creepy,' it is useful," he said as he watched me run around the room. "What are you doing?"

"Getting dressed," I said as I pulled on my uniform and tried to tame my hair.

"Nyota…." He was arching an eyebrow.

"Put that eyebrow down," I ordered, "I don't think you fully comprehend the power it has over me."

"Please clarify, Cadet."

I think he's flirting with me.

I stopped moving and put my hands on my hips, "You are really not helping right now."

"Perhaps if I knew what the goal of this activity is I would be able to render assistance."

Or maybe not. How can men – even the astoundingly brilliant ones – be so clueless?

"I need to be presentable so I can smuggle you out of here," I said, squelching the urge to roll my eyes.

"You do not need to 'smuggle' me out of your room."

"Oh yes I do. I don't really want to explain to the Idiot Squad why you're here."

He pushed himself up to a sitting position, which gave me a superb view of his magnificent body. "Nyota, no other students are staying on this floor."


"You and I are the only representatives of Starfleet on this floor, the floor above and the floor below."


God I love you, you beautiful, brilliant, green crazy woman.

"Even still, what if someone's wandering by?" I asked, glancing fixedly at his face and absolutely no lower as I tried to figure out where my hairbrush could be hiding. I remembered the last confirmed sighting had been in the bathroom.

I went to find it; when I returned he was up and dressing.

"I'm going to just check the hall first, okay? Please? Humor me."

"If you will find comfort in doing so I will not prevent it," he said.

I sighed and kissed him. His hands moved to my waist and I had to step away. "Look, I need to shower and do something with my hair and get dressed and if you start that again I'm going to be very, very late to dinner."

"Your hair is presentable in its current state."

"No, no, no," I said, pushing him towards the door. "I need some girl time."

And I have to call Gaila before she sends out a search party – or adds The Green Penis Song to the Academy Chorale Ensemble's spring concert program.

I muscled past him and opened the door, stuck my head out and looked around.

The hall was empty and quiet.

"Okay, the coast is clear," I said, waving a hand at him.

"I did inform you this was an unnecessary exercise."

I glared at him as he moved past me. I watched his butt as he walked down the hall. I really did love watching the man move; he was grace and power coiled in a lithe and lean body.

"Go back into your room, Cadet," he said from his door.

"Aye, Sir," I grinned, saluting him.

His lips twitched and then his room swallowed him up.

I wandered back into my room and looked at the bed. He and I had been there – we had made love there.

I wonder how much it would cost for me to buy that bed.

And preserve it for all eternity.