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Croft comes awake slowly. Beside him, Chandra snuffles sleepily. He reaches over to his other side; he doesn’t feel the higher temperature of their other bond, only the bed. He slides out from under Chandra’s arm, then pulls a blanket around himself. He pads downstairs to the living room of the barndominium that was his mother’s gift to him, besides her name.
The story was kind of ambiguous as to how she acquired it. Some had told him she had won it in a poker game; another story was it had been transferred to her as a debt repayment from a pirate.
He stops as he sees T’Varilyn’s long blonde hair cascading down her back. She stands in front of the picture window. What he can see of her profile shows the closest thing to wonder he has ever seen on any Vulcan, as she watches the snow lessen in the Montana predawn light.
“I know you’re there,” she says in her throaty voice. He walks over next to her. He can feel that she’s cold, but her iron discipline refuses to let her shiver, even though she stands there without a stitch on. He pulls close to her and wraps her in the blanket.
They stand there in silence for a few moments, until they sense Chandra joining them. She pulls into the blanket as well.
“Storm’s about to break,” she observes.
He sees T’Varilyn give a slight smile in the growing light. “It already has, for me. You’re both here. And we’re safe after…
Chandra laughs lightly. “You’re a romantic, T’Vari,” she says. She looks out at the snowscape.
“I guess it is fair weather,” she muses. She reaches over and kisses T’Varilyn, then Croft.
He watches as both of them pull their foreheads together, then their lips.