From: Laura Jacquez Valentine 

X-Mailer: BatIMail version 3.00

To: ASCEM@earthlink.net

Subject: Doctor My Eyes 1/1 (TOS, M'benga/DeSalle, PG NON-Recurring CHALLENGE)



Doctor, my eyes have seen the years

Through the slow parade of tears without crying

Now I want to understand



I have done all that I could

To see the evil and the good without hiding

You must help me if you can



Doctor, my eyes

Tell me what is wrong

Was I unwise to leave them open for so long?



  --Jackson Browne



----



DeSalle walked into sickbay, wearing a troubled expression.  M'Benga was

on duty that particular day--that particular incredibly slow day.  He

was sitting on one of the diagnostic beds practicing Vulcan meditative

techniques, relaxed as he only was when lost in the mind-rules.  Still,

he was alert, and DeSalle's entrance snapped him to readiness in an

instant.



"May I help you, Mr. DeSalle?"



Tony DeSalle winced slightly.  "I need to talk to you about Spock."



M'Benga sighed inwardly.  Spock was a common disease and talking to

M'Benga was the common cure.  "Come into my office."



They walked into the office and sat down.  M'Benga locked the door, and

DeSalle began to speak.



"He said once, on the bridge, 'I'll entertain any suggestions,

Mr. DeSalle, any at all'.  And the way he said it--it wasn't like his

normal self.  It was me he was talking to.  I knew it.  And...two weeks

ago, he started flirting with me.  Me!  I felt honored, you know?

Because he doesn't pay attention to anyone but that little crowd of

his."



"You should feel honored," M'Benga said.



DeSalle blinked, then decided to ignore the statement.  "And three days

ago, we...we..."



"You and he had sex."



"Yes.  How did you--"



M'Benga sighed.  "I have to talk to him about being more careful.  He

forgets, sometimes, how confusing it can be for humans."  He leaned

forward and laid his hand on DeSalle's leg.  "It is called the

little-bonding.  Among Vulcans, it is an honor to be so chosen by one of

Spock's rank."



"He's only a Commander."



"He's the heir to the House of Surak, Tony.  At present, he's the

third-highest ranking Vulcan--behind T'Pau and his father.  There's a

tremendous amount of power behind him.  Trust me.  It's an honor."



DeSalle shook his head.  "I wish he'd let me alone!"



"No, you don't.  You're just confused about why you love him, and why

you no longer want him.  It's all right.  It's normal.  The strangeness

will pass, and you will live and die for him.  And he, Tony, will

live and die for you."



DeSalle folded his hands and looked at the floor.  "You know?"



"I know.  I have the honor of being bound to the House of S'ton, a

family of healers for generations."



DeSalle smiled then.  "You're a good healer."



"The Vulcans thought so.  So did Starfleet."



"M'Benga?"



"Yes?"



"Meet me for dinner tonight?"



"As you wish, Tony."



That night, it was obvious that Tony had fussed over the arrangements.

He'd set up an elaborate dinner in his quarters, and had even managed to

find out that a little-bonding wasn't the only legacy of M'Benga's

Vulcan training--the doctor was a vegetarian, and so was the meal.



M'Benga could see what DeSalle wanted from him.  Could see it clear as

day.  And M'Benga, for all he wore a human shape, was not a human

doctor.  He was a Vulcan healer, and his ethics were different.

Different in such a way that they could accomodate DeSalle quite nicely.



And so it began with dinner and a kiss.  And so it continued in the

press of bodies, in a tenderness and a heat which took them both by

surprise.



Two months later, a bonded member of the House of Surak married a bonded

member of the House of S'ton.  It was recorded by Starfleet and in the

Vulcan Record of Bonds, and Spock smiled secretly to himself as he

reached along the little-bond and found Tony DeSalle happy and safe in

the arms of his new husband.



----

The End