"New rule, we don't tell any Vulcan on this ship about Talent night, Rec-night, or any other gathering were they'd have the chance to read any type of Vulcan lititure, 'especially' Vulcan poetry." "Agreed!!" came a chorus of replies.

"Is he done yet?" Tom Paris whispered to Harry Kim, for the upteenth time. "No, hes only on verse 12." "Oh, god. Hes actually going to make us sit threw all 24 verses of this poem isn't he?!" "And you said Vulcans don't have a sense of humor."

"Did you notice those thick bracletes the Vulcans were wearing?" "Yes." "Do you think there real?" "Ofcourse, there vulcan tradition. Clan bracletes to proclaim who you are and what clan you belong to." "Clan?" "Tradition, remember." "Oh, yeah. Tradition." "Its' a symbol of their identity. Almost like their signature put into metal and jewels." "Wow," Chakotay said with a low whistle, "but then why not wear them all the time?" "Well, most only wear them on speacial occasion, it's more conservative." "I beet the 'old timmers arn't to happy about that-wait, Vulcans don't get happy." "No," Kathryn laughed "but from what I understand they are Very 'irratated' by it." "hmm" "what?" Kathryn asked. "If there so important why wasn't Tuvok wearing one?" "That Commander, is a very intresting story." "Really, do I get to hear it?" "maybe" she replied with a smile.

Tuvok took out a small portrait and gazed at his wifes image. It had been taken an hour after her command performance for the President of the federation. She'd been wearing a shoulderless colbat blue leatard, blue and black lace arm warmers, a black lace calf length skirt, and dance slippers that laced up to her knees. And around her right ankle...

"Your joking!" Chakotay said laughing. "Nope." "Tuvok dosen't strike me as the passesive kind" Chakotay said still laughing.

T'pel looked down at her right ankle and almost smiled; almost. Vulcans don't smile. Lightly she carressed the anklete she'd worn for almost 70 years.

Tuvok remembered the day...

it was after the performance and no less than 30 individuals had proposed to his mate, wich was actaully a normal thing. When they'd gotten back to the hotel they'd just barly made it to the bedroom before he'd made love to her. Wacthing T'Pel dance has always effected him strongly. When she'd begun to doze off, he'd removed the box containg his Clan braclete and he'd wrapped it around her ankle. T'Pel had looked on, now fully awake as Tuvok twisted the clasp so that the braclete couldn't be removed. T'Pel had risen an eyebrow, then she'd noticed the inscription on the braclete0now-ankelet.

T'Pel, traced a finger along the inscription. Even after all these years it still made her heart beat alittle faster to think about the words he'd had inscribed.

Tuvok had had the words placed there so that everyone who asked about of saw it would know how ture the words are. If they hadn't been true T'Pel would not had continued to wear it.

T'Pel layed back on her bed.

Tuvok layed back on his bed.

They remembered the words written in mettle, and how true theyb were. Still seperated by many years, they both for that poiont moment at that identical moment in time they simotaniously spoke the words that caused the eyebrows to rise on both Vulcans and non-vulcans alike. Written in the 'old' langauge that when roughly trasnlated meant, "She belongs to me!!!"