"Personal Log, Commander T'Pol, August the 17th, 2155"

I still maintain that keeping a recorded log of my personal thoughts is illogical, however, ensign Sato insists that this method will help with my reluctance to process the emotions and sensations that my human crew mates are so fond of confronting me with every day. I must admit that at least in theory her suggestion has merit as this practice does allow me to express my thoughts without the need to disclose them to anyone or anything but this recording device. I shall therefore use this experiment to verbalize the events of this day.

"Guess we have a lot 'o work to do."

These were the exact words he spoke to me in his customary defective grammar after he had deceived me into exchanging a kiss in a public place. Yet even more than the omission of the subject in what should have been an easily assembled statement of his native language, my thoughts were occupied with the meaning of these words. In fact I had become so preoccupied by my attempts to discern the meaning of his utterance that I had neglected to retract my eyebrow to its customary position until I arrived in my quarters.

I had to dismiss the theory that it would refer to his work in Engineering as he is still, technically, no longer part of this crew and if our kiss impacted him has much as it impacted me, I would severely doubt that repairing the ship's damaged systems was the foremost thought in his mind. Exchanging such intimacy in the corridor is highly unseemly but for reasons that elude my understanding I do not experience guilt and I chose to justify my decision with the fact that, were I human, it would not be considered unseemly, if perhaps somewhat indiscreet.

It has taken an unfortunately long time and the disagreeable separation through his departure to Columbia until I finally gained the understanding that my attempts at denying my obvious affection for the ship's chief engineer are without logic. I have no doubt, were he here, Charles would now impertinently interrupt me and offer his unsolicited notice that I even have the mating bond to show for it.

Our bond is still in its infancy, yet I was able to discern that his customary 'teasing', his attempts to goad me into admitting that it was my desire to be with him that prompted me to suggest his return to our ship, were a plea for reassurance. I regret not having said so immediately. My ill-advised attempt to engage in 'teasing banter' as we have done so often in the past has resulted in another unnecessary case of me offending him...

As a result of these unsettling emotions I found myself unable to meditate and I had to devise a plan to improve my interaction with Charles and, should my previous mistakes not have rendered it impossible yet, perhaps initiate a romantic relationship with the man I desire.

As always, when logic fails to provide the answers I needed, which is a frequent predicament when dealing with human behavior, I sought counsel from Ensign Sato, who has helped me countless times over the course of the last four years.

As I approached her quarters, I nearly collided with a somewhat disheveled looking Lieutenant Reed, who had obviously just left the ensign's quarters. I was prepared to dismiss this as an after-effect of the pheromones spread by the only recently departed Orion females, however, to use Charles' colorful vernacular – anyone with working eyes can see that the ship's tactical officer and the young linguist have been romantically involved for some time.

It must be admitted, the Lieutenant managed to present an image of calm as we exchanged greetings. However, his carefully crafted image of equanimity disappeared when I pointed out the very unmistakable evidence of Ensign Sato's affection that adorned the side of his neck. I believe the human word for the discoloration is 'a hickey'.