Iotiana e Vulcaniana

Posted on Sat Feb 14th, 2026 @ 1:40pm by Petty Officer 3rd Class Fulvia Benvenuto & Crewman Apprentice T’Vel

Mission: Lower Decks
Location: Fulvia’s Quarters
Timeline: 14 February

“I’ve checked and double-checked everything,” Sakura said. “There are no EPS fault. The temperature is stable. Safety systems are calibrated. You don’t need to do anything except turn it off when you’re done, and even then it will do that by itself.”

The pink-haired engineer smiled and took her best friend and roommate’s hands in hers. “You’re worrying about nothing.”

Fulvia sighed and hung head down. “I guess you’re right. Thanks doll.”

Sakura’s smile turned into a grin, accompanied by a giggle behind it. “You’ll do fine, Fulvia-chan.” She kissed her friend on the cheek and then let go of her hands. “I’ve gotta go. You look great, by the way.”

“And you, you’re goin’ like that?” Fulvia asked, her surprise breaking her from her previous worries. “You’re in coveralls for gods’ sake!”

Sakura giggled again. “Bradley got us an hour-long holodeck reservation.”

“He got one for tonight?!” Fulvia asked, incredulous. “How’d he manage that?”

Sakura shook her head. “Don’t know, don’t wanna know. But he’s taking me to a private hot spring spa, and he’s bringing me my robe for the walk back to his quarters after.”

Fulvia snickered. “Assuming you can walk after.”

“I know how to access the transporter,” Sakura replied, a touch of airiness and whimsy in her voice.

The doorbell chimed.

Fulvia froze.

Sakura grinned. “Come in!”

The door opened and T’Vel walked in holding paper wrappings that, from the ends sticking out from the bottom, appeared to hold some kind of botanical. Her red blouse matched the colour of her lipstick perfectly. Her white skirt came to just above her knee and matched a lovely pair of white heels.

“I hope I am not early?” she said, flustered both by Sakura’s presence and by Fulvia’s cute but understated navy blue blouse and black skirt.

“I’m just leaving,” Sakura said. “Have fun you two! I’ll see you tomorrow!” With that, she skipped out of the quarters and toward her holodeck date.

“You look great, Ears,” Fulvia said, crossing the floor toward T’Vel.

“Thank you,” T’Vel said, awkwardly, a flush coming to her cheeks. “I…attempted to research appropriate clothing for an evening such as this. But neither the computer nor our friends were particularly helpful.”

Fulvia grinned and laughed heartily. “Yeah. Katie gave me some details, but Angelface seemed to think it was just an excuse for people to wear out their bedsprings. Not that that broad needs a special night for that.” In fairness, neither do we, she thought.

The tiniest smile reached the corner of T’Vel’s lips. “Indeed. Nevertheless, my research suggests that these are appropriate Valentine’s Day colours. And Katie tells me these are an appropriate Valentine’s Day gift.”

Fulvia took the present from T’Vel and smiled when she unwrapped six medium-stem red roses. “They’re beautiful! Thanks Gorgeous!” She gave T’Vel a quick peck on the lips and handed the flowers back. “Hold these a sec? I need to get something.”

The Iotian stopped at the replicator to produce a vase half-filled with nutrient-infused water. On her way back to T’Vel, she picked a small box with a lid and a bow on it off an end table. “Here, trade.” She took the flowers from T’Vel, who in turn took the box. “Go on! Open it!” she said excitedly as she put the flowers in the vase.

T’Vel took the lid off the box, revealing a pair of stud earrings with a Vulcan IDIC design on each of them, with a small sparkling blue stone at the triangle’s point.

“You like ‘em?” Fulvia asked. The vase went on a wall shelf, just below the red flower pressing that hung on the wall. “The stones are from Tial! Bradley helped me extract it from the rock samples he took. Don’t worry, the lab didn’t need ‘em anymore, he promised me.”

T’Vel tried to find words but only a muted “Th-thank you” came out.

“Now come here, Toots, I have an evening planned for us!”

The Vulcan took a moment to swap the earrings she was wearing with the new ones and joined Fulvia at the one structure in the quarters that had not been there before: a countertop next to a very hot convection oven. “What is all this?” she asked.

“Glad you asked!” Fulvia said with a proud grin, entirely too pleased with herself. “We’re not replicating dinner tonight, Ears. We’re making it! We are, however, replicating the ingredients but that can’t be helped. And what’s on the menu, you ask? The pride of Italians, Italian-Americans, and Iotians alike!”

“Which is?” T’Vel asked, non-plussed.

“Pizza, Dollface!” Fulvia cheered. “Do they teach you nothing in the core worlds?!”

“Not this.”

“Well then! We’re gonna take this dough,” she pointed to a pair of raw dough balls on the counter next to a bowl of flour, “shape them into pizza doughs, add ingredients, and bake! I’m making an Iotian inspired one for you – vegetarian, obviously – and you’re making a Vulcan one for me!”

“That sounds… lovely, actually,” T’Vel said. “Have you done this before?”

“Well, um, no,” Fulvia answered honestly. “I don’t know how to shape it. So we’re gonna learn together! I have a short instructional video ready to go on that screen! Then when it’s shaped, we’ll add ingredients and cook! Fun, right?”

“Let us proceed then.”

**

The video had been entertaining, to say the least. A woman whose Italian accent Fulvia declared to be inauthentic made quips as she pulled the edges of the dough in her hands, slowly turning her ball into a disc. She twirled it a few times as she went, achieving that perfect shape and thickness.

T’Vel took to it almost instantly. Flour on her hands and on the counter, she held it, pulled it, and teased it out as she slowly turned it along one axis.

In her peripheral vision, she could see that Fulvia was having a harder time. It was not for a lack of trying. She was so focussed on her task that her tongue pushed out the side of her lips without her even noticing, an expression T’Vel found charming. But try as she might, her dough wasn’t taking shape. She pulled it such that it would tear, and the Vulcan could tell that she was getting frustrated.

“They may need to take my Iotian card,” Fulvia said sadly as she put her dough down after a third failed attempt.

“You are doing better than you think,” T’Vel reassured her. “Here, allow me to assist.” She set her own perfectly shaped dough onto her pizza tray and moved behind Fulvia.

“Doll, what’re you doin’—whoa.” Fulvia blushed as T’Vel stood directly behind her and reached around her.

“Here.” T’Vel picked up the dough and held it so the two of them could work on it together. Four hands on it, they added flour and a splash of water and reshaped it into a ball so they could try again. “Feel how I do it.”

Goosebumps rose on Fulvia’s neck as T’Vel’s warm breath went past her ear. T’Vel was right though. She could feel how the Vulcan was using a bit less force when she pulled. She was also spreading it more across her palm. She started to follow T’Vel’s lead and the dough wasn’t tearing like it had been. “I think I’m getting the hang of it,” she said proudly.

“You are,” T’Vel assured her. “And remember that it does not need to be perfect. Only functional.”

“I want…” Fulvia hesitated, but pushed on. “I want it to be perfect for you.”

“Fulvia,” T’Vel said softly. “What I want is for it to be you.”

“You sayin’ I’m imperfect?” Fulvia said, the humour in her voice plain for even T’Vel to pick up on.

“The roughness around your edges and the small amount of chaos you bring are part of your charm,” T’Vel answered. “They are part of you, and you should never be ashamed of that. They are part of what drew me to you that first night.”

She placed a gentle kiss on the side of Fulvia’s neck. Then another. Her hands released the dough, leaving it in Fulvia’s care, and rested on her abdomen, feeling the heat of bare skin where her blouse had become untucked and risen up.

Hands slipped under the shirt’s hem, prompting Fulvia to giggle. “You here to help or distract me, doll?” she asked, cocking her head to the side so T’Vel could continue kissing her.

“I can do both,” she answered. “I am very good at multi-tasking.”

Fulvia’s breathing picked up. She found herself increasingly flustered as T’Vel continued peppering her neck, jaw, and ear with soft kisses. She gasped as T’Vel’s warm hands found their place cupping her chest. But Fulvia’s own hands kept on the dough. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she leaned back, knees struggling not to give out under T’Vel’s tender touch.

“There,” she said, pushing the word past a hitched breath. She held up her dough proudly. It was a bit bumpy, and to call it a circle would be generous, but it was very her. “Now are we gonna cook these or what?”

But despite her words, she let out a quiet whimper as T’Vel removed her hands and stepped back into position beside her, each now in front of a stretched and flattened round of dough about thirty centimeters across.

“Ingredients?” T’Vel asked, her demeanour cool and collected despite a conflagration behind her eyes.

“Right!” Fulvia gestured to a flat rectangular plate on the countertop that was pushed up against the wall. “Sakura installed a replicator plate within reach. Like I said before, I want a Vulcan take on pizza, while I make you an Iotian one. Typically it’s some kind of sauce, cheese, and any combination of toppings you think will be good. Herbs and spices can be nice too. Ours often has meat on it, like a cured sausage sliced very thin, but we have some good vegetarian versions too.” She leaned forward instinctively so she could address the replicator. “Computer: ingredient mode. Pizza sugo, mozzarella, basilico, peperone rosso arrostito, funghi saltati, origano, e olio d’oliva.” The ingredients, along with a handful of serving implements, shimmered into existence on the plate, which Fulvia took before she gestured for T’Vel to proceed.

T’Vel similarly leaned forward, the act of shifting one’s position to speak to the computer being so ingrained. “Computer: Salsa di ricotta frullata con aglio e olio d’oliva. Mozzarella, tagliata sottile. Melanzane arrostite, tagliate sottili. Cipolla caramellata. Za’atar alla vulcaniana. Olive blu di Ta’Vistar, crude. Olio d’oliva.” Another batch of ingredients manifested.

Fulvia raised an eyebrow before she started. “Where’d you learn that?”

“I found it interesting that Iotian, while almost identical to Federation Standard, uses terminology from Earth’s Italian peninsula when referring to food,” T’Vel explained as she began to apply white sauce to her dough with a small ladle. “It was a fascinating topic to study.”

Fulvia smiled and turned to face her ingredients, in part to hide the blush on her cheeks. “You studied Iotian,” she said quietly. Not a question. A statement of fact.

“Where you come from is an important component of who you are,” T’Vel said as she spread the sauce evenly and with great care. “I would like to visit one day.”

Fulvia’s heart raced, which made her sauce spread a bit more messily, but that was all the better. “I visited Vulcan once,” she said. “It was part of my apprenticeship. We were there to study ancient star charting techniques, but we had time before leaving to sightsee. There was this temple in AraKahr–”

“The Temple of T’Plana-Hath,” T’Vel said, now precisely laying thin round slices of mozzarella in two rings around the pizza’s centre. “It was one of my favourite places to visit as a child.”

“I remember just staring up at this statue,” Fulvia continued. “T’Plana-Hath, I guess, but I didn’t want to bother anyone by askin’. And I just felt…at ease, you know? Like her presence calmed not just me, but everyone. Everything, even. Just…I felt like everything would work out.” She smiled and started putting pieces of roasted red pepper and sautéed mushroom on her pizza. “Maybe one day you can tell me about her?”

“I would…like that,” T’Vel said as she began to apply roasted eggplant, caramelized onion, and olives–the blue ones from Ta’Vistar, on Vulcan–spreading them in a beautiful mosaic in the gaps between the mozzarella.

“Next time I get a holodeck slot, we’ll go back to the temple,” Fulvia said as she started sprinkling her mozzarella over everything else. “Heh. Think I can sell it to Espersen as a cultural training exercise so we can get priority?”

T’Vel’s lips curled upward slightly as she sprinkled Vulcan-style za’atar–an herb and spice blend from Earth’s Middle-East which had been incorporated into Vulcan cuisine–thinly and evenly over her pizza. “He might, but then he would want you to open it up to everyone on the ship.”

“Yeah,” Fulvia said, pursing her lips together. “I like my shipmates but I don’t exactly want them to come out on a date with us.”

“Not even Kally?” T’Vel asked, a hint of teasing in her voice. “Or Sakura?”

Fulvia snorted and held her hand up to her face as a means to excuse herself. Finished with the cheese, she quickly drizzled a small amount of olive oil over her pizza. “There’s a difference, Doll. Is that ready?” she asked, nodding toward T’Vel’s pizza, as she was finishing drizzling her own spiral of olive oil atop it.

“It is,” T’Vel said. She stepped back and allowed Fulvia to open the pre-heated oven and slide the two pizza trays side-by-side into it.

When Fulvia was finished closing the oven door, she brought up a display screen. Temperature was holding steady at two-hundred-fifty degrees Celsius. She set a ten-minute timer, noting it might need a couple of minutes longer.

She took a deep breath and held T’Vel’s hands in hers.

“Ears…” she began, but then corrected herself. “T’Vel. I…I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to still have fun with them sometimes. They’re my best friends, and I love ‘em. But… I want to go on dates with you. I want to spend my time with you, and talk to you about anything. Everything. I want to come home to you.” Flustered, she couldn’t help but giggle. “I love ya, T’Vel. More than I thought I’d ever love anyone. More than–oof!”

She was caught off guard when T’Vel let go of her hands so she could grab the sides of her head and pull her into a kiss. This wasn’t the same as before. This wasn’t the kiss of barely controlled lust like they’d first shared so long ago. This was a kind of passion that burned hot and bright, but not like the candle that would burn itself out twice as quickly. This was the self-sustaining fusion of a star. This was real.

When the kiss broke, Fulvia had tears in her eyes. “Say it,” she whispered. “Please. I need to hear it.”

“Fulvia,” T’Vel replied. “I love you also.” She took a breath and tamped down her feelings with imperfect control. “You may find,” she continued, “that I don’t say it as often as you would prefer. But please be assured. I do love you.”

Fulvia smiled and laughed, tears having obviously run down her cheeks. “Look at me. I must be a mess.”

“You wore mascara on the night you were going to tell me you loved me?” T’Vel said, her tone mildly chastising but clearly meant in good fun.

“Hey I didn’t know what would happen tonight!”

“Go and get yourself cleaned up,” T’Vel suggested. “You don’t need it anyway. I’ll monitor the pizza.”

“Great! When the timer goes off, take a look. If the cheese isn’t melted then leave it for another two minutes.” Fulvia disappeared into the washroom, and T’Vel took a seat and closed her eyes, allowing herself a few minutes of quiet to re-centre herself.

**

Eleven minutes later, Fulvia returned. Her face-wash hadn’t been enough, so she’d taken a little while longer to have a sonic shower. Her hair was loose around her face now, and she wore the dark purple silk robe that Sakura had given her for her birthday. “How is it?” she asked.

“It needed longer, as you said,” T’Vel answered. “It should be ready…” She was interrupted by the beeping of the oven timer. “Now.”

Fulvia opened the oven and the pizzas looked perfectly cooked, the cheese melted and uniform, the dough that right shade of brown with the tiniest bits of black where it had bubbled highest. She used a long heavy spatula to lift the trays out of the oven and put them on the counter. “Perfecto,” she said. She let the sit long enough for her to put the spatula away, get them each a plate, and find the circular pizza knife she’d replicated for the occasion.

She went first, cutting her pizza into quarters and sliding all four pieces onto a plate. She then cleaned the pizza cutter and handed it to T’Vel.

The Vulcan meticulously turned one circle into four identical quarter-circles and slid them onto the other plate.

Fulvia picked her plate up and gestured for T’Vel to follow her to a table in the opposite corner, against which two chairs had been pushed. Both place settings had a napkin and a wine glass, with a bottle each of red and white synthehol wine. One of the place settings had a knife and fork, while the other did not. “Pizza is finger food,” Fulvia explained as she set the pizza she made between the utensils, “but I knew you wouldn’t like that.” She held the chair out.

“I appreciate that,” T’Vel said. She set her creation at Fulvia’s spot and then sat down, allowing Fulvia to push her chair in.

Fulvia took her own seat and, grinning, gestured proudly to the pizza she’d made. “T’Vel of Vulcan, I give you: Pizza alla Iotiana. Buon appetito!”

“And for you, Fulvia Benvenuto, I have made for you Pizza alla Vulcaniana. Yokul k’tizh’es.”

“Is that Vulcan?” Fulvia asked as she picked up her first slice.

“It is,” T’Vel answered. “We have no expression resembling Bon appétit or Buon appetito. But the words exist, and the sentiment can still be expressed. Yokul k’tizh’es is literally ‘Eat with enjoyment’.”

“That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me, Ears,” Fulvia joked. She took a bite and the flavours exploded on her tongue. “Oh my gods!” she cheered. “I’m sorry, doll, but I did not expect it to be this good. There’s layers and complexity and… I dunno but it tastes like pizza should!”

“Many a Vulcan would tell you that it is illogical to devote time and effort to ensuring food tastes good instead of simply containing all necessary nutrients,” T’Vel explained. “Those Vulcans are, in a word, wrong.” She took a bite of Fulvia’s pizza and her eyes went wide. She had assumed it would be flavourful and pleasant but she had not anticipated enjoying it this much.

“Don’t leave me hangin’, doll, what do you think?”

“It is…most satisfactory,” T’Vel answered, a flash of mischief behind her eyes.

“Oh, be still my beating heart,” Fulvia teased. “I’m glad you like it,” she added more seriously. “Don’t feel like you need to finish it though, I have a stasis unit under the counter to keep it hot and fresh for tomorrow. It’s a lot of food, and pizza is good for breakfast too.”

They ate in relative silence, the deliciousness of the pizza preventing any ongoing dialogue, neither wanting to stop eating in order to speak.

When they had each finished half, they declared they could eat no more. Fulvia put their plates in the stasis unit while T’Vel poured them each a glass of red and carried them to the couch, where Fulvia joined her.

“To us,” T’Vel said, raising her glass in toast as she handed the other one to Fulvia.

“And to wherever this takes us,” Fulvia added. They clinked their glasses and sipped. “So what happens now?”

“Do you mean with us?” T’Vel asked. “Or do you mean tonight?”

“Both?” Fulvia ventured.

“With us,” T’Vel said after taking another sip, “we see how it goes. We plan date nights. We celebrate this with our friends and loved ones. We report it, as necessary, as Commander Espersen should be aware in case this arrangement changes anything for him.”

“I’ll tell him,” Fulvia said. “And you tell Kally.” She snickered. “I’m sure she’ll want to plan a little horizontal celebration for us if you catch my meaning.”

“I do,” T’Vel said, “and that would be consistent with what we know of her. It should make for a fun night.”

“You have such a way with words, Ears,” Fulvia said, grinning. “We may want to keep a few things at each others’ places,” she suggested. “With Bradley and Sakura becoming more serious, nights together are already becoming more common than nights apart. With us properly together…”

T’Vel nodded. “In truth, for now I would prefer to keep my own space, but your suggestion is logical.”

“Logical, that’s me!” Fulvia said with a laugh. “That’s why on the streets I’m called Fulvia ‘The Vulcan’ Benvenuto!”

“You told me your street nickname was ‘Two-Knife’.”

“Er, it is,” Fulvia said, grimacing. “It’s what’s on my birth certificate anyway. But as for tonight—”

“As for tonight,” T’Vel echoed. She leaned close and pressed her lips against Fulvia’s. The rest of the ship erased from their senses as they just focussed on each other and the moment.

Fulvia’s heart skipped a beat as she felt the softness and heat of T’Vel’s fingers brush against her skin, tugging gently at the edges of her silk robe until it slipped off her shoulders. She let the sash loosen and untie so the robe could fall open completely.

She tilted her head forward so her and T’Vel’s foreheads touched but their lips parted. “For tonight…” she repeated, “you finish what you started earlier when I was shaping my dough…”

T’Vel’s response was not in words, but in kisses forming a trail down Fulvia’s neck and in hands finding those places that she learned made her beloved melt…


END


Fulvia Benvenuto
Besotted Baker

T’Vel
Stoic Sweetheart