DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2022 by Djinn. This story is Rated R.

It's in the Spaces Between That We Fall in Love

by Djinn



Part 4: How We Came Together


He feels the joy of seeing his captain alive, the relief that he did not kill him, that T'Pring's plan had not worked.


And that he is free. Finally free.


He looks for Christine but McCoy has chased her out. He knows why even if he does not think Christine is with him any longer.


If she was ever with him. Spock understands that there is love and then there is solace, and that might have been what she and McCoy provided each other.


It does not matter to him now. He is free and so is she and what he did not take during the burning, he will ask for now.


"I believe I have a nurse to apologize to," he says, and Jim smiles in a knowing way.


McCoy though does not look happy. "I'm sure she'll live without one."


"I, however, might not." He does not move, fixes McCoy with a look that he knows is too aggressive, but the hormones from the burning still run through his veins. Even if they no longer require him to mate or die—or kill those who dared touch the woman that is his.


Stonn can have T'Pring. He cares not. But this man took Christine and that does matter.


He realizes his hands are clenched and says, "Perhaps I am not fully over the burning. I will meditate." And he leaves Jim and McCoy, and finds Christine at her desk. "Come with me."


She does not ask why, does not tell McCoy she is leaving, just takes the hand he has held out for her and lets him pull her up.


They walk very fast to the lift, even faster to his quarters. Once the door closes, he asks, "Do you understand what has happened?"


"No. Len kicked me out, remember?"


"Because he knows you are mine."


Her surprise is immediate. Before she can debate him, he says, "T'Pring challenged. It was most unexpected."


"I don't understand, Spock." She is backing away from him and that is the wrong direction.


"In the end, she did not want me. Only wanted to humiliate me and make me suffer when my friend lay dead at my hands." He moves closer. "But my friend is not dead and I am now free of her. Free, Christine." He touches her face. "Do you understand now?"


She nods but pulls a scanner out from her pocket. "I just want to see how much you're under the influence of your hormones."


"Please do." He lets her take the readings. "Moderate at best."


She nods.


"I want you."


She puts the scanner back into her pocket and moves toward him. "I want you too."


And then she is in his arms, as she was that day on the bridge, only there is no one to fool. There is only this desire and love.


She pushes him against the wall and he hikes her up and turns, kissing everywhere he has ever wanted to, touching, stroking, slowly taking her clothes off as she does the same for him.


He does not want to rush this. "Where shall our first time be? Here against this wall or in my bed?"


She nips his lip with her teeth. "You choose. I just want you inside me."


"I value how direct you are."


She reaches down, squeezing, and he closes his eyes. "I value how hard you are." She laughs as he allows himself to smile. Then she lets go of him, stroking his face as she kisses him, and they go nowhere for a long time, leaning against the wall, kissing the way he has always wanted to.


So free. So united. The passion he feels for her telling him to carry her to his bed and take her but the love he has for her telling him not to rush. To savor. To find out how delicious this will be.


Finally she pulls away and says, "Your bed. Now."


He carries her, experiencing her laughter as both sound and emotion, the sweetest thing is this joy that has erupted between them. "I love you," he says.


"I love you too." And then she is pulling him down, and into her, and nothing he has known is like this. He feels utterly whole with her, trusts her completely. Whatever she wants in bed he will do. Whatever he wants, he will ask for, knowing she will not be offended even if it is something she does not want to do.


He has never felt so free.


They lie together afterwards, gently caressing, giving soft fluttering kisses.


Until "McCoy to Spock" sounds from his communicator.


"Spock here."


"I can't find Chapel."


He feels her tense, feels her fear, and realizes she thinks he will make her hide this as before. "She is here, Doctor. She accepted my apology. I do not think you will see her the rest of the night."


Her smile is a mixture of happiness and compassion. He has probably wounded her ex-lover with his words, and she is kind. But she is also his. And he does not care if he causes some pain while telling this man that he has, finally, claimed the woman he wants.


"I see. Well, tell her I'll see her tomorrow then." There is nothing in his voice that sound overly sad, but McCoy is a master of hiding his own feelings even as he urges Spock to show his. "McCoy out."


She studies him. "You enjoyed that."


"I did. He had you." He can feel the wash of emotions from her. "You enjoyed it, as well. A part of you did."


"You're not wrong."


"I will not hide this."


"Okay, umm, you should know that I've applied for medical school. I'm taking the courses I can virtually from here. But..."


"But you are going away?" He fights back a feeling of panic—he cannot lose her. Not now.


"Not for a year at least. And it won't be long. I'm trying to test out of a lot of it and do some of it practically under Len."


"Have I just undermined his willingness to do that—"


"No. No, it's not that. I just—I just wanted you to know. And I'm not sure how Starfleet Medical will feel about me dating the first officer, you know?" She buries her face in his chest. "I can't believe I'm saying this but can we be discreet? Not hiding it, but not flaunting it either?"


He feels a bit off balance. "How is discreet different than hiding it?"


She cuddles in next to him and does not seem upset at the question. "Well, no dancing." She laughs at his look. "And no PDA."




"Public displays of affection."


He remembers kissing T'Pring the night she asked him to marry her, remembers the man in the restaurant asking them to not do that in public. "You are as strict as a Vulcan."


"But it's okay?" She runs her hand through his hair and he closes his eyes at the sensation. "We can spend time in our quarters and outside them. But the sexy parts happen here." Then she begins to grin. "Or a lab if you reserve it for us. Or a supply closet. Or..."


"I am beginning to feel less restricted." He pulls her on top of him. "Answer me this: are you mine?"


"I am. Are you mine?"


"I am."


Her smile is beautiful, as lovely as he's ever seen. "Then we're good."


"Yes," he says as he rolls her to her back and begins to kiss down her body. "Yes, we are."




He wakes to her stretched along the length of him. It has been a week. A week where he has enjoyed her company discreetly in public, which has proven to probably be no different than how he would act if given no such limitation, and enjoyed her fully in private.


He also apologized to McCoy, blaming the hormones of the Pon Farr for his aggressive lack of tact.


McCoy seemed to take it in good grace. "I always knew she loved you, Spock. She never made a secret of that. It was you, Korby, and then me."


Spock is not sure he could be as gracious if their positions were reversed.


Jim has commented on missing his chess partner but after asking if Spock was happy to which Spock replied simply "Yes," he said, "If she can make you admit to an emotion, then I'm her biggest fan." He seemed truly pleased for him.


"Mmmm." She moves against him. She is not like T'Pring, quiet in sleep and rousing. She is an active sleeper and he has learned to move with her. And she wakes under protest, even when there is no chrono to tell her it is time to get up.


But once she is awake, the first thing she does is smile at him. A smile he thinks he would be lost without, even though it has only been a week.


She smiles now and murmurs, "Good morning," as she pulls him down to her.


He loses himself in her, marveling as always at how different this is than the more subdued lovemaking with T'Pring and the almost childlike play he and Leila engaged in under the spore's influence.


Christine is not passive, is not childlike, is not concerned with what is proper but only what they both want. She loves giving and receiving pleasure. He has always known she was caring and intelligent, but to find they are so compatible sexually makes him resent the time they have lost.


"I was thinking about the bond," he says and feels her tense.


"The one you have with T'Pring?"


"Had. The one I could have with you." He cannot deny it; there is panic on her face. "I do not mean right this instant."


She relaxes.


But he feels something deep inside. Hurt. And...doubt. "Do you not wish to be bonded?"


"Spock, we've been together a very short time."


"But we have loved each other for years."


"From afar. With people in between us." She moves away slightly, the way she does when she wants to talk seriously. "We're not the same people."


"We are. We are the same people who have new experiences."


"Which by definition means not the same people." She touches his face gently, and he knows it is as much to soothe as to let him feel her emotions.


She loves him. She is amused. She is also concerned.


He is pushing too hard. "I lived thinking I would never have you. That whether the burning came or not, I would be forever tied to T'Pring. To be freed this way, it is..." He touches her face, letting his fingers linger on the meld points for a moment.




"No. Unexpected and wonderful. I find it ironic, Christine, that I appear to be more emotionally available at this moment than you do."


She pulls away even more. "Perhaps because while you were sitting doing nothing in your purgatorial Vulcan status quo, I was losing the father of my child and the child itself. I put my science career on hold to find him."


"And slept with McCoy as you did."


Her face changes; he is seeing pure rage and it is unnerving on a countenance he associates with love and care. "He understood me, Spock."


"Are you saying I do not?"


"I'm saying that I at least changed. You just found a new version of me in Leila. Only I bet you didn't offer her a role as your mistress. I feel sorry for Leila, Spock. Just another body along the trail." She slips out of bed and gets dressed.


"Do not leave." His voice is that of a little boy, calling back those who have abandoned him.


"I'm not leaving you, Spock. I'm leaving this conversation. I'll see you at dinner, okay?"


He is completely off balance, unsure how to call her back. So he does not try.


She has changed.


She has changed and he is not sure he likes it.




It is no longer a problem to be discreet. Something has changed between them and when he sees her with McCoy, standing close the way they always have, it irritates him. He has taken to sniffing her, to try to see if there is more of McCoy's subtle cologne on her than there should be.


"What are you doing?" She looks up at him with weariness. "Are you sniffing me?"


"Your shampoo is new." It is true but it is not why he is taking in her scent so deeply.


But it is the right thing to say. She frowns and says, "Do you like the scent? I'm not sure I do."


"I prefer the one you used yesterday."


"Yeah, me too. It was lighter. This is just overpowering." She moves into his arms. "I'm sorry I've been distant. You're right, we've loved each other for years but we never had each other, Spock. And as you so like to say every time I want to try a new pastry in the mess..."


"Having is not so satisfying a thing as wanting?" He touches her cheek, wanting her to know that for him, having is intensely satisfying.


"It's just going to take some time to figure out our rhythm. You know how weird I am about commitment. Talking about a bond this soon—it really spooked me."


He nods. "Because I have been thinking of it for so long—as a state desired but unattainable—having it available to me now is all I have wanted. But I can see how it might not be immediately attractive to you."


"I'm not saying not ever. I'm saying not now." And she kisses him, the way she did before, and it should be as if nothing has changed.


But it has. His dreams for them have subtly changed. Did he really think he could order her life for her, bring her in line to fit into his world without making any attempt to fit into hers? Has he even shown enough interest in hers?


With T'Pring, he had the benefit of growing up together, knowing her history and her desires. With Leila, her devotion to him was paramount in the way she approached love. She wanted him and would have molded herself to him however he wished and called it happiness.


Christine is neither of these women. He must remember that.




Spock waits for an opportunity to talk to McCoy when Christine is not in sickbay.


McCoy looks up with a smile. "Sure is nice to see you without a beard, Spock. Made you look a little creepy."


"I once wore a beard—when I was younger." During a most difficult time. And his brother wore one. It had probably been Sybok he was trying to emulate.


"Well, don't bring it back, okay?" He leans back. "Why are you darkening my door, Spock? You're usually only here to pick up Christine."


"I was curious what she was like in this darker universe."


"Pretty much like you'd expect our girl to be if you took the morals and ethics away. A goddamn mad scientist. And she looked amazing in their uniforms." He smiles in a way Spock does not like. He also does not appreciate McCoy calling Christine "their girl."


"Were she and I...?"


"If you were, she was seriously playing around on you. Couldn't keep her hands off me."


"I see. And did you keep your hands off her?"


"This wasn't your Christine, Spock. And I was keeping up a role that Jim told us to play. Blending in." He smiles in a way that is immediately annoying. "I never knew what it was like to have all of her. For a moment there, I did. For what it's worth, the you of that world didn't seem to care when he forced a meld on me to see who I was and what I'd been up to."


Spock does not look away. "You are angry."


"I care for her." He shrugs. "But I knew the score going in. She and I were both sore at life for the way it had treated us and we found comfort in being pissed off together. That is probably not the best way to start a lasting relationship. I miss her but she was never mine."


Spock looks down. "I appreciate your attitude in all of this."


"I'm sure you do. The younger me would have challenged you to a duel but seeing what you can do in a duel, I'm glad I'm the reasonable older me." He grins, but it's a grin that holds a touch of fear. "You two all right? Seems odd you asking me about her."


"You were in sickbay. If she was in sickbay, you would have seen her. It was logical to ask."


"If you say so, my friend. If you say so."


Later he is with Christine in his quarters. They are lying quietly because she is tired and has a headache. Bad enough to get the hypo full of pain meds out.


"How did you find the other McCoy?"


"The one who groped me continually? That McCoy?" She laughs in the way that means she is amused but in a dark way. "I guess his version of me was very into him. He knew things..." She shook her head.


"What things?"


"Things about my childhood. Weird that some of it would have been the same." She shifts in his arms.


"Did the medicine help?"


"No but you are." She is sweet tonight despite her pain. This is the Christine he loves most. Sex is not required, just this closeness.


They could be closer. The bond would—


No, she has told him not yet, and he will let it lie.


"Did you not wonder why it was him and not me who was with you?"


"How do you know a me without a moral compass wouldn't have you both and be telling you the other one is only for my career advancement. It seemed from what Nyota said that they advanced by dark deeds, not good performance."


"Indeed." He pulls her closer. "Would you tell me if you missed him?"


"Len? I see him every day. He's drilling medicine into my head. Believe me, I get enough McCoy time." She kisses him. "Are you jealous?"


"Yes." He sees no point in hiding the fact.


"I love that." She cuddles closer and fully relaxes in his arms. "I heard the uniforms were quite revealing."


"Perhaps you should have Nyota draw you the schematics and replicate it for our enjoyment?"


She laughs. "Look in your nightstand drawer."


Sitting above the box of their pictures, a box he no longer hides, is a basic sketch of the outfit and Christine's version—even more scandalous. He laughs—a soft puff of air that he immediately calls back but she has heard it and she laughs too.


"You approve?"


"I do." He puts the drawings back in his drawer and closes it, turning to her once again.


"Well, obviously it won't be tonight but some night, if you've been a very, very good boy..."


"I will be an extraordinarily good boy." He kisses her gently, rubbing her back the way she likes until she falls asleep.


He allows himself to smile. She has done this for him—to please him. To please them both.


It is a wonderful feeling to be so free.




He is tired from the day, from the operation to save Sarek, from the stress of dealing with his parents after so long apart—and from the feeling that perhaps now they might finally be some sort of family again.


Christine comes over and scans him before she gets into bed.


"I am quite fine."


"Humor me."


He caresses her free hand as she works. "If you had not found that Rigelian study, my father would have died."


"I'm good at research. Better than Len probably. But he's the one who did the surgery." She smiles. "You're fine. Just tired, I think."


"I am." He lets her get settled into bed before asking the question that has been troubling him since the operation ended. "Should I have introduced you as my..."


"The word is girlfriend. And no, not when you haven't talked to them in years and your father needed emergency surgery and then you were working on maybe a rapprochement." She kisses him gently. "But I have to tell you that your mother is very perceptive. She cornered me."


"She is relentless when she wants to know something. I could hide nothing from her when I was a child."


"Yeah, I failed too. She seemed really happy for us." Her expression changes, and he notices she is not cuddling in. That they are not touching in any way skin to skin.


"Something troubles you. And you do not want me reading you."


"You know me."


"I am learning."


"She wanted to know how we met and I told her about the early years, that I had even met T'Pring. I may have made a kind of sarcastic remark about my surprise over the durability of a Vulcan bond after hearing so much about them. Since you guys could just break it so simply."


He is not sure where she is going with this line of conversation. He too has often wondered about that.


"She told me that it only works that way when both bondmates are psychically adept enough to control the bond. Most humans are not. I test average, as she does." She meets his eyes. "For her, the bond is irrevocable. She doesn't control it in any way."


"This cannot be right. I would know—"


"How would you know? Would you have asked them about that sort of thing? Once you knew what you and T'Pring had, wouldn't you just assume they were like you two?"


He nods; she is right. He has never thought to question the nature of his parents' bond. Then he sees the look on her face, the...dismay.


"You do not wish to bond if that is the case, do you?"


She shakes her head slowly. "To be forever locked in? Spock, maybe, in time, I will. But right now, I just can't imagine it." She touches his hand, and he knows she is doing it on purpose, so he can feel the rush of conflicting emotions within her. "But marriage would be okay. Not today but in the future."


"A Vulcan bonds, Christine. He does not merely marry."


"Well, what if I was psi null? Then you couldn't bond with me."


"That would be a different case. But you are not psi null. I have felt your capability, limited as it is." He realizes that sounded like an insult. "I mean no disrespect."


"I know. You're just being honest. But so am I. I'm not saying I won't change my mind someday, when we have a track record, when we know and trust each other better."


"You do not trust me?"


"I wouldn't be with you without trust, Spock. You know that about me. But to give you my entire life...? That's a whole other level of trust."


"I see." Again she has made him feel off balance.


"I bet Leila's looking pretty damn good right about now. She'd do it, wouldn't she?"


He nods. "Probably without a thought. She wanted everything."


"There's a difference between wanting everything and giving everything away." She looks down. "Is this a deal breaker for you?"


"You are what I want. You are what I have wanted for years. I will adjust my expectations. And perhaps in time your reservations will abate. I respect your choice."


She finally cuddles into him and to his shock starts to cry. He crushes her to him, stroking her hair, unsure how to help her. "I thought this would be it. I thought you'd finally realize I'm too fucked up to love."


"We all carry baggage."


"Yeah but some of us pack it worse." She kisses him, and they are frantic kisses until he slows her down.


"I love you, Christine. Had I known the nature of the bond when it is with a human, I would have understood the problem it might present for us. I will do further study. Perhaps there are mitigations to allow more control on the human partner's part. I highly doubt my father would have looked into such a thing."


"You'd do that for me?"


"I would do anything for you."




He has studied the texts; he has talked to old teachers, trusted mentors. There is nothing to indicate a way to mitigate the nature of the bond exists. He has told Christine this.


He could not tell if she was disappointed or relieved.


They lie together now, on her bed because she wanted to get something from her closet and they never managed to leave once she showed him what it was. He might abhor the morals of the dark universe they crossed paths with, but its uniforms certainly prompted a response in him. Or her modifications of what had already been a very skimpy outfit had done the trick. Either way, they lie exhausted in bed.


"I would like to be closer to you."


She laughs. "We're pretty close."


"I mean mentally. A meld."


She actually pulls away. "And switch bodies? Uh uh."


He allows himself a smile. "That was more than a meld. It was also ill advised since both T'Pring and I were probably not willing to share at that point to the level that ritual requires. This is much simpler. I did one with La'an during the Gorn attack. That was for a specific reason and limited in scope. This would be a more general sharing."


"So you'd see everything?"


"No, it is a sharing, not research." He strokes her hair. "For a human, you are so guarded."


"I know. Okay, I'm game."


He puts his fingers on her meld points and she smiles and pushes them deeper. "You've done this before. Touched me here. Did you want to meld at those times?"




"Did you and T'Pring?"


"Not after the katra incident. And barely before. I believe we never fully trusted each other."


"I trust you."


He begins the process, feeling her open up to him in a way that surprises him. That gives him joy.


"Awww, I can feel how happy you are."


"I am pleased to be sharing in this way." He kisses her.


"Wait, I can feel you kissing me like I'm you but I can still feel it from my perspective too."


He can feel her immediate arousal and a sense of mischief. "Yes, it can be used during sex."


"Oh, yes, please."


He strengthens the meld so he can remove his hand, so he can hold her and make her writhe beneath him—he comes when she does, the sensation of her pleasure overpowering him.


"Holy shit, Spock. You've been holding out on me." She is breathing hard but smiling giddily.


"It is not always this way. It requires two minds to be in sync, to have trust, to...love."


"I do love you." Her statement echoes between them, words turning to mental notes, and she smiles and closes her eyes. "Get inside me now."


He does as she orders. This time she passes out as he comes. He wakes her gently, and she clutches him, trembling.


"Was it too much?" he asks, unsure if he has pushed her too far.


"No. I mean I don't think I'd want to do it every day. But, no. It was wonderful."


He eases the connection between them, until it is almost gone, just a comforting hum. "This is what the bond felt like. An awareness that T'Pring was with me even when far away. I could not tell what she was doing or thinking. But if she was in distress, I believe I would have known it."


"Could she block you if she wanted?"


"She could. She did, as soon as she made the ultimatum. I never felt her in my mind again. Not until the burning."


"But I wouldn't be able to do that."


"Would you want to?"


"What if we fell apart?"


"Why would we fall apart?"


"I don't know." She buries her head in his shoulder. "Spock, I'm super vulnerable right now after the meld. Maybe we should just cuddle and not talk."


"I have moved you too much? If you feel vulnerable?"


"Me being guarded didn't start with Roger and the baby. I'm used to having things I love ripped away from me. When I open up, when I think that this time I'll be safe and loved, then it all blows up. I guess, over time, I learned to blow it up first. Hurt before I could get hurt."


"I will not hurt you."


"Let's just cuddle, okay?"


He does what she says. But he is confused. He felt her pleasure—her sense of connection with him. Why is she now pulling away?


She falls asleep and he is still pondering the question.




He sees her dismay as he dodders around sickbay, working as quickly as he can with her and Doctor Wallace for a cure. He stops her for a moment, his hand on hers, feeling panic.


"We will prevail, Christine."


"Go back to work, Spock." But her voice is gentle, her eyes tender.


His hearing is still good enough to hear Wallace say to her, "You love a Vulcan. And he loves you. Interesting."


"Things happened." Christine sighs.


"I read one of your papers on genetic manipulation. It was brilliant."


"I've read many of yours too."


Wallace laughs. "We can have a mutual admiration society." She pauses and there is only the sound of the two women working, then she says, "Actually, I'm surprised Jim hasn't snatched you up. You're exactly his type. A brilliant scientist and one on his ship."


"Well, I'm with his best friend. Puts a damper on the snatching." She laughs in a way Spock enjoys. "Also, I fell in love with Spock a long time ago. Jim didn't stand a chance."


"Jim, is it?"


"Again, I'm with his best friend. Comes with certain perks. Getting to know him and use his first name included."


Spock feels a rush of satisfaction. His friend and his woman are compatible. He does not think T'Pring would have liked Jim. And it was clear what Jim thought of Leila.


"But is he your type? My Jim?"


"Oh, I imagine he's everyone's type." It is a safe answer, a diplomatic one. That pleases Spock too. She will do well when he introduces her formally on Vulcan.


If he does not die of old age first.


His tricorder pings and he says, "The last one you did. It is showing results on the test cells."


They rush over and he feels Christine's hands on his shoulders as they all watch the results. The cells are reverting back to the way they should appear given the real ages of the landing party.


"We've got it," Wallace says. "I'll just go get Doctor McCoy."


Christine slides around and into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You've still got it. Gray hair and lines be damned."


"I have you. That is all I need." He strokes her face gently. "I do not want to lose you."


"I'd be losing you. Left here without you. I don't want that." She kisses him tenderly. "What would happen if we were bonded and one of us died?"


"The other would feel it. A debilitating surge of pain. An emptiness where before there was unity."


"That on top of grief. It sounds horrible, Spock."


"Think of it as many years of connection brought to an abrupt end. Do not focus solely on the end."


"Very wise approach."


Wallace walks back in and smiles at them. "Who knew Vulcans were so tactile."


"I imagine there is much you do not know of Vulcans, Doctor." He eases Christine off and tries to get up in his normal effortless manner.


It takes him two tries.


He will be glad to be his proper age again.




Spock watches as Christine gives Jim a final once over. "You're good as new, sir. Whatever Sargon and Thalassa did to make you whole, it's sticking."


Jim grins at her, an easy, trusting look. "Good."


She leans down and whispers—but not softly enough Spock can't hear, "So are you and Doctor Mulhall and me and Spock going to double date?"


"We are not, Chris. Please never say that again."


Spock bites back a frown. He does not remember Jim calling her that before. "Chris?"


She looks at him. "He's always called me that. Since before us. Well, not before we met, obviously, but since I talked him into letting me back on this ship."


"You have never told me to call you that."


"Because you called Pike that. It would have gotten confusing. Also I like the way you say 'Christine.'"


Jim sits up. "Can't I have a pet name for her, Spock? Or are you going to tell me to stop being friends with your woman?" He's grinning in the easy way he has, and Spock senses no guile in him.


He also thinks Jim is doing everything he can to put emotional distance between himself and Doctor Mulhall, who is on the far biobed with McCoy looking after her. "I have no issue with it." He glances at Christine and before she can say anything, "Not that if I did that would change anything. Christine is her own person."


"Very good, Spock." She actually gives him a quick kiss in the limited public area that is sickbay.


He finds, to his surprise, that he likes it. He likes her kissing him in front of Jim and—he looks around—yes and in front of McCoy, who walks over.


"I guess, since we all thought you were dead, I'll not get on her case over kissing a patient."


"I am not a patient."


He grins and pushes him to a biobed. "That's where you're wrong, my friend. Now, let's see if Henoch left any lasting damage."


Christine grins at him and he holds his hand out to her. She comes over, holding on tightly.


"Let go of him. His heartrate goes up when you touch him."


"That's what all the boys say." She winks at Spock and murmurs so low he knows only he can hear it, "But you're the only boy for me."


He relaxes and lets McCoy work, never looking away from her. Being held by her, safe in her mind, which was far more logically inclined than he has ever given her credit for, was...indescribable. Closer even then a bond.


"Okay, get out of here, you two."


They do not wait around to see how Jim will deal with Doctor Mulhall. Spock expects she will find herself off the ship as Doctor Noel did or assigned to Gamma as Lieutenant Moreau has been. Jim does not allow himself to be distracted by crewmembers. No matter how much he might have enjoyed kissing them—or their dark universe counterparts.


Christine takes his hand in the lift, not letting go even though people get on. He does not mind the looks: she is his, let her show it to the whole crew for all he cares.


He realizes some of what he feels is euphoria left over from being with her so intimately. With no barriers—unguarded.


"I appreciate your agreeing to host my consciousness," he says as they leave the lift and head to his quarters.


"I didn't. I was—I was under Henoch's thrall. But it was Vulcan—the power he used. Partly. Making me do things."


"That was him. Not me."


"I know. But no, they knew he'd read me, I guess. So they put you inside me without my knowledge." She smiles up at him. "I'm okay with it by the way. Losing you would have killed me."


"Did he hurt you. Physically I mean. Sexually?"


"He didn't have time. But...I think he might have gotten around to it. There was a part of me still aware—still fighting. He'd touch me here and I'd stop fighting." She lies her finger just above her eyebrows.


"That is not a Vulcan touch point. Whatever he did to you, it was not because he was in my body, but because they had great power themselves."






They fell onto his bed as soon as they got into his quarters, removing just enough clothes to be together.


"I've never felt closer to you, Spock."


"I think, after the liberties Henoch took with you, Sargon was giving us both a gift."


"I think so too." She kisses him and they both enjoy what is left of the resonance from their sharing as their bodies find the rhythm they have perfected over months now.


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