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 7: How We Were One
Spock pats down his hair as
he walks with Christine to the apartment: it will not do to look as if he has
just had sex with his woman—multiple times—in the classroom. He feels tied to
her by more than physical proximity—the bond between them is open and finally
free. They walk slowly because it is distracting, this happiness bouncing between
them, taking what is both of theirs and making it one.
Finally, the unity between
them coalesces and he finds he can walk without having to actively think about
putting his feet down. He hears her sigh in what he can feel is relief.
"I was afraid it was
always going to be so..." She frowns. "All the words sound
pejorative: overwhelming, intrusive, distracting. But it's not—it feels so
good. Just—"
"Overwhelming, intrusive
and distracting." He allows himself a small smile. "I think because
we were not able to allow it to grow and develop naturally—we were always so
careful to keep it at a distance—it is now making up for lost time."
"I can't say I mind. It
was pretty amazing during sex." She grins and pulls out her communicator.
"You sure about me moving in?"
"I am."
"Then what's the
address? I left my stuff at the transporter hub's temporary storage."
He gives it to her and
listens with satisfaction as she instructs them where to send her things.
She will be with him—with
them. Saavik is not expecting this and he thinks it will be the best surprise
she has ever had.
It is certainly the best that
he has had.
"Did you really not know
Jim and I were breaking up?"
"I pulled so far away, Christine.
Distance and this new role helped. But...were you sincerely upset? I would
think I would have felt it if you had been deeply grieving."
"I think I grieved those
first few times. After that I was just so focused, like a doctor trying to
resuscitate a patient. And...I think I shut down around him. He didn't hurt me
because he also didn't make me very happy. The only thing that did was running
with Saavik and hanging out with La'an. You were never there when I picked
Saavik up at the embassy."
"No. I made sure to be
gone. She understood why, I believe. She is wise beyond her years after
watching the things she did as a child."
"Yeah. Pragmatic as
fuck."
"Not how I would have
put it but accurate."
She laughs. "You know
I'm not going to quit swearing around her."
"When have you
ever...?" He stops for a moment so he can look at her—really appreciate
that she is here and she is his. "My father will be so self
satisfied."
"That's okay. I like
him."
"And he likes you. As
does my mother. Although she was not as sure of our future success."
"She's human. She
understands me better."
"Indeed."
"Is there a reason we're
standing in the middle of the path with you staring at me like some lovesick
sap?"
"Yes. I want to."
She laughs again and moves a
little closer. "I'll ruin your reputation."
"I do not care."
But he starts them moving again because he wants to share this with Saavik.
The woman they love is coming
home to them.
They get to his apartment and
he puts her on the external and internal door systems. The concierge is not at
his post so Spock takes her upstairs—he will check on her things later.
He opens the door and they
have barely walked in when Saavik launches herself at Christine with a squeal
he has no idea she could make.
She is spinning them around
and Spock realizes it is the same thing La'an and Christine do. "The
concierge called. Your stuff is downstairs. You stuff is downstairs!"
She stops them and stares into Christine's face. "Tell me you're moving
in."
"I'm moving in."
"Tell me it's not
temporary."
"It's not—unless I get
sent out again."
"Tell me you two are
together."
"We are." Christine
is grinning. "Tell me you're going to run out of things I have to tell
you."
"I'm sorry it didn't
work out with Kirk." She almost sounds sincere and Spock is proud of her.
"No you're not. But I
appreciate you lying about it." She glances back at him. "I guess
Romulans can lie, huh?"
"That was never in
doubt. You would be surprised how many times she goes out for a girl's meal
with my mother and neglects to tell me that means they are eating meat."
"The horror."
Christine lays the back of her hand over her forehead like she's about to faint
from the shock but winks at Saavik. "Can I come or is that prime bonding
time with Amanda?"
"Yes but also yes."
"Well, we can go out carnivoring just the two of us. If your grandma doesn't
want to share."
"Two times is twice as
good."
"Nothing wrong with her
math skills." Christine puts her arm around her and leads her to the
couch.
Spock can tell Saavik is
trying to not smile too widely, to not show her joy, to be the Vulcan she has
learned to be from her tutors and him and his parents, and he finally says,
"Saavikaam, when it is just us, comport yourself
as you wish."
Christine strokes her face.
"You can be Vulcan. You can be Romulan. You can be whatever the fu—hell
you want to be. Your choice. Got it?"
She smiles and it's a
beautiful thing, so full of happiness, and it mirrors what Spock is feeling
also but will not show, not in that open of a way.
They each have their paths.
Christine pulls her in for a
hug. "I know I should be sad—losing Jim wasn't easy—but...but I'm just so
happy to be here."
And she is. He can feel it.
He does not have to guess from her facial expression or her words or her body
language. He can feel it.
It is all he ever wanted.
She glances back at him, her
smile sweet and loving. Then she turns back to Saavik. "And I'm going to
be way less easy on you than your father is when it comes to school."
Saavik just smiles. "So
I've narrowed it down to physics or chem."
He realizes Saavik is
continuing a conversation they must have had on one of their runs or over
comms. She does not talk to him about her preferences the way she does to
Christine.
"So you're still sure
about science?"
"I still am." She
leans back, her head on Christine's shoulder. "With you two as my parents,
how was I going to be anything else but a scientist?"
He walks around so he can see
Christine's face. She is smiling and her eyes are bright as she says, "You
thought of me as your mother even though I was never there?"
"You were always there.
If I needed you, I just called. And when you were here, you took me so many
interesting places. I count on you."
"That's sort of like I
was your cool aunt, though." She leans her head on Saavik's.
"Not that I don't want to be your mom, or didn't think of you as my
daughter, because I do. I just didn't know that you did too."
"No one else would have
caught me on Hellguard. They'd have had to stun
me."
He nods. "I believe
that." He suddenly feels the need to get Christine's things up to the
apartment and calls down to the concierge.
He wants her comfortable and
settled.
And theirs. Finally theirs.
##
Spock sits in his parents'
private dining room at the embassy, Christine on one side and his mother on the
other. Saavik sits next to his father, who keeps looking at Christine, next to
him, then at Spock as if to say, "See how this came to be just as I
said?"
If Spock were not so happy,
he would be annoyed.
Christine puts her hand on
his knee and he can tell she is trying not to laugh.
So apparently can his father.
"You find something amusing, Daughter?"
"You aren't subtle,
Sarek."
"And yet he persists in
thinking he is," his mother says with a wry smile.
"I am trying to be. I have
not yet asked Saavik her plans, as I so often do at the start of the meal and
hear from both you and Spock that I should not push."
"You're doing a great
job of not pushing." Now it is Saavik who is trying not to laugh.
It never seems to bother Sarek,
her lack of control at times like these. Perhaps because his own eyes are
twinkling.
"She has qualified for
early admission to Starfleet Academy," Spock says, not without some
satisfaction at her success.
"About that..." She
is looking at Christine.
Christine turns to him.
"We were just bumming around campus the other day and a friend of mine
came to lunch with us. She was the one who made that database you once helped
with?" She wiggled her nails at him and he nodded, remember the man who
would have hurt her. "She's a dean now, of an intensive four-year program.
Combination bachelors and masters."
"At Stanford?"
"Yes."
"But...Starfleet?"
"I would enter through
ROTC." Saavik says. "Stanford's program is well regarded. Well,
everything at Stanford is."
He can hear Christine in her
words, in the way she wants suddenly to upend all she has done and go this new
route. "The Academy adds a luster to one's Starfleet resume that ROTC
cannot duplicate."
Christine's eyebrow goes up.
"And Stanford adds a luster to a scientific resume that the Academy cannot
duplicate. Who knows if she'll even want to go active duty when she finishes.
Maybe the reserves will be more in line with her career path."
He realizes his father is
watching him closely.
"You have an opinion,
Father."
"Only that I remember
you telling me you had no obligation to follow in my footsteps. I wonder now if
you will pressure Saavik to do what you would not?"
Christine has withdrawn her hand
and he turns to study her. Her expression is calm, not at all as if she has
planned this to happen in front of his parents. Where he cannot possibly argue
his case without seeming a hypocrite.
She smiles gently at him.
"She'll enter Starfleet—if she decides to join and so far I believe she
wants to"—she looks over at Saavik who nods with as innocent a look as she
is capable of—"as a lieutenant. My friend has had multiple people do that
from ROTC with her masters degree. She can choose
science or command track once she's in and if it's the latter, she'll spend
some time at the Academy." Her smile is wary and just the slightest bit
sheepish. "She wanted to see the campus and one thing led to
another."
"She wants to be like
you."
"I hardly think that is
a bad thing, darling." His mother sips her wine, her smile a knowing one.
"Although I imagine you will have some interesting conversations tonight.
Saavik, do you want to go out to the beach house with us and let your parents
work out their differences alone?"
"Their differences or my
future? Because I get to choose." She sounds like the girl from Hellguard, who wasn't sure she wanted anything to do with
him.
"Your future is your
own, Saavikaam. But Christine and I may need to
discuss the need for pre-briefing prior to family dinners."
"This is not Christine's
fault. I asked as I do every dinner," Sarek says.
"Technically you did not
ask, Grandfather."
"I am trying to help
you, Granddaughter."
"Oh. Right. Sorry."
"Christine, did you know
before you brought it up that I ask this question of Saavik at these
dinners?"
"Ummm,
yes." She glares at Spock. "I hate that I hate lying."
He does not mind it; it is
one of her best qualities.
"Oh, then yes, you will
need to discuss pre-briefing with Spock." His father looks amused. "I
must say, my son, usually it is your mother telling me I must do that with her.
It would appear you and she will have much in common."
Christine laughs. "I just
want her to know what her choices are. The decision is hers."
Spock thinks that is easy for
her to say after not being here the entire time Saavik was enrolled in a school
specifically designed for those who desire early entry into the Academy. Saavik
showed no sign of that not being her desired path until Christine moved in.
He sighs, Christine takes his
hand and says, "I'm sorry I screwed up your plans," and Saavik tells
his mother she would very much like to go out to the beach house.
"Are you coming,
darling?" she asks his father.
"Someone must supervise
you two." He lifts an eyebrow, making Christine and his mother laugh.
Must his woman be so charmed
by his father? Spock knows he is being ridiculous. If Christine did not like
Sarek, that would be very uncomfortable for him and Saavik too. It is better
this way.
Even if he feels slightly
ganged up on.
When dinner winds down, he
and Christine leave Saavik with his parents—they all keep sets of clothes and
toiletries at the beach house so they do not need to bring suitcases back and
forth. He will need to tell Christine to pack some things to leave there when
they eventually go.
As they walk back to his
apartment, she says, "How angry are you?"
"Can you not tell from
the bond?"
"You're shielding."
Is he? He assesses his mental
state. "I am not, actually."
"Then you're barely
mad."
"I believe any
aggravation I might feel is so much less than the contentment being with you is
bringing me."
"Awww,
Spock. That's so sweet."
"But please do not do
that again. You put me in no-win situation."
"I know. But Saavik told
me you seemed very invested in her going to the Academy and doing well once she
was there. Have you talked about her being first in her class?"
"Only because she is so
free at times. Her Romulan half allows her to access emotions in a way a Vulcan
simply cannot after the years of training we are subjected to. It is that
discipline that is often perceived as coldness—that prevents us from excelling
in group activities as is necessary to get top honors."
"Still sore you
graduated number three, huh?"
He does not answer her, but
he knows she can feel the amused annoyance as she laughs.
"What are we going to do
with the apartment all to ourselves for the first time since I moved in?"
"I am going to pleasure
you on the dining room table. To remind you that family dinners are best
prepared for together."
"Are you going to make
me come?"
"Yes. Eventually."
"Then I imagine this is
a lecture I will enjoy." She takes his hand for a moment. "I really
enjoyed dinner. I really love your family."
"As they do you."
She lets go of his hand once
they are at the entrance to their building, palming them in and he calls the
lift. Once they are in the apartment, he backs her up and pushes her onto the
dining room table, which is conveniently cleaned off from a project Saavik was
working on the night before.
He pushes her skirt up and
pulls her panties off. "Repeat after me: I will discuss important things
with Spock before bringing them up in front of the family."
She shakes her head, her eyes
sparkling.
He begins to touch her; she is
so ready for him it is difficult not to crawl on top of her, but he controls
himself. He gets her close and then says it again.
"I'll run it by
you—Spock finish me off."
"I am not sure you are
fully aware of what you are agreeing to. Perhaps I should stop." He pulls
his fingers away and she grabs them, saying, "I promise, I promise, I
promise. Just do it."
Leaning down to kiss her,
then to whisper in her ear, "You promised, you promised, you
promised" he takes her over the edge.
She is not quiet. He does not
mind at all.
She lies still for a moment,
breathing fast, but then lets him pull her up as she urges him into the
kitchen, pushes up his robe and pulls down his underwear, and has him hop up
onto the counter. "I think about this every time we're in here."
And then she stops talking
because she has captured him with her mouth and is making him moan. She is not
playing games and he is quickly gone, stroking her hair, then pulling her up to
kiss him.
"And now I too will
think about this."
They kiss for a long time
until she murmurs, "Where else?" and he leads her into his office,
hikes her up on the desk, and takes her that way.
"It's going to be a
really long night, isn't it." She kisses him and he can feel her pleasure
through the bond, through her skin, and through the meld he initiates as they
hold each other. "Oh yeah, that's the way to do it."
"I love you,
Christine."
"Even when I annoy
you?"
"Even then."
##
They are all at the beach
house, enjoying the last days with Saavik who has opted for Stanford, and will
be living on campus. If she is going to choose this path, Spock wants her to
experience it fully even though she could easily commute.
She plops down next to him where
he sits on the sand and says, "I need to tell you something."
"You have decided to run
away to join the circus?" He enjoys her laugher.
"That's a good
one."
"It is an old one. Your
grandmother used to say it to me when I would say I had something to tell
her."
"Mine is less exotic. I
just...I'm thinking of trying out for the cross-country team."
He closes his eyes and nods.
He has been expecting this; Christine also ran cross country for Stanford.
"Are you lying, Saavik? Perhaps you have already tried out and have made
the team?"
"Why do you think I'd
lie to you?"
"That is not an
answer."
"Okay, maybe I've done
one tryout already and made the first cut. But there's three more to get
through. It is in no way assured." She takes a deep breath. "I want
your honest opinion. Do you think it is too much? This and ROTC and the
intensive studies? I managed it at the preparatory but I think this will be way
harder."
"Yes. But you are the
one living it." He studies her. "Are you doing this because you want
to? Or are you doing this because you think Christine will approve? She will
approve of you no matter what you do."
She nods.
"Also, I want you to
consider this. Running is something that I believe gives you joy. That is
something to be cherished. If it becomes an obligation, will it still give you
joy?"
"I do not know."
She lifts sand and then lets it fall. "It's a lot to take on."
"She will not care one
way or the other, Saavikaam, so long as you are
happy."
She touches his hand very
gently. "Have I told you recently that I love you."
"No, you have been
telling the woman I brought home that."
She laughs. "Oops. Well,
I love you, Spock."
"As I do you." He
wants to muss her hair as he did when she was a child, but she is a young woman
now. Not a child.
He sees one of the servants
come out, leading a slight figure in a hooded cloak. "Sir, you have a
visitor."
"Shouldn't they have
waited in the parlor?" Saavik whispers.
"Yes."
He sees his father gesture
for him to bring the person up to the patio he and his mother and Christine are
relaxing on. "Come with me, Saavik."
They make their way to the
figure. It is a female, but Spock cannot tell the age from the way the cloak
shields her face. "Please join us on the patio."
He glances at the servant and
realizes he is new and probably does not understand his faux pas. No doubt his
mother will set him straight. The ambassador is not always available, and
certainly not during private time.
"Bring our guest
water." It is a neutral form of hospitality. No promises implied, no
aggression either.
"Sit," his father
says, gesturing to a chair that is set off from the rest of them. "We are
on private family time."
The woman—no, she is a
girl—pushes the cloak off. "I believe, grandfather, that I have the right
to be here then."
Spock shares a look with
Christine. The resemblance to Angel is remarkable. He does not need to ask who
this girl's father is but he does anyway, "Your parents?"
She turns to him and there
are tears in her eyes. "I have three. My biological mother, T'Vashti; my spiritual mother and genetic donor, Angel; and
my father..."
"Xaverius,"
Spock and Christine say together.
His father looks sharply at
him. "You knew?"
"Knew what?" his mother
and Saavik ask as one.
"Xaverius,
yes. He had many names. I think Sybok is the most important." The girl
does not look away from Spock, ignoring his father and the look of dismay he
has allowed to cross his face—or the look of confusion on his mother's face.
"He is alive?"
Spock asks gently.
"If you can call it
that. We were in contested space after his escape from Ankeshtan
K'Til."
Spock looks over at his
father—he was never told of this escape. His father does not meet his eyes.
"The Klingons attacked
our ship. My mothers were killed. Not instantly. I was with them.
Father...Father felt nothing but pain. And I reminded him of them." She
looks down. "He wanted so much from me, smothered me with emotion. But I—I
did not want that path. The teachings of the V'tosh Ka'tur are counter to my nature. I wish to learn the way of
logic. From you, uncle. He said he would let me go but only to you."
"What's your name?"
Christine asks gently.
"Valeris. I have papers,
they link me to T'Vashti and another Vulcan in our
group. There is no way to trace me back to Father."
"There's this thing
called genetics." Christine pulls out a scanner and asks, "May
I?"
Valeris nods. "They did
something to me, when they added Angel's DNA after the egg was extracted and before
I was implanted back into T'Vashti."
Christine is frowning.
"She's not wrong. She's reading as a distant cousin at best. This is...is
almost..."
He can tell she does not want
to say what it is. "Is she an augment?"
"No. But whoever did
this was really skilled. She reads as pure Vulcan but not your niece. As I
said, maybe a second cousin twice removed."
"You're Chapel, aren't
you?"
"Christine, yes. Did
Angel tell you about me?"
Valeris nods. "They
laughed when they heard what happened with T'Pring. They hated her." She
looks down. "But T'Pring lives and Angel does not." She suddenly
looks up at Spock. "I wish to not feel that pain so strongly. I wish to
understand how to think my way out of it. How to reach for logic before
sentiment. I do not want to hate T'Pring or the Klingons or anyone. I just want
to be a Vulcan."
Christine meets his eyes. He
can feel the question in them.
Saavik is studying Valeris,
then also looks at him, "It is not as if you will not have the room. And I
would not want you to be lonely with me gone."
"Spock," Sarek
says. "A word."
They go to the edge of the
deck, and his father says, "You must, of course, meld with her. Verify
this. Your brother has reason to wish to hurt us—well, me in particular. She
may be the way."
"She's a traumatized
child."
"So was Saavik, but we
did it to her as well. It is prudent."
Spock nods and leads his
father back to the group. He pulls a chair over to Valeris. "Did your
father or T'Vashti ever meld with you?"
She nods.
"I must meld with you. I
must verify what you have said. I will not hurt you."
"And once you verify,
will you teach me the ways of logic?"
"I may not have time to
dedicate myself to that fully. But the tutor who worked with Saavik will be pleased
to have a new student."
Valeris looks over at Saavik.
"I know your history. Angel was fascinated with anything to do with Spock.
You are not truly family."
"She's more family than
you are, kid." Christine is at her most protective but Saavik gets up and
walks over.
She tips Valeris's
chin up and makes her look at her. "There are families of blood and
families of choice. Sometimes the latter are the stronger. Also, I'm half
Romulan—do not make me angry."
"You allow this?"
Valeris says, glancing at Spock.
"He encourages
this." Saavik lets go and walks back to Christine.
Spock leans in. "She may
be exaggerating. I am going to initiate the meld. Do not be afraid."
"I have lived my entire
life afraid—on the run and never sure what any day would bring. This—this is
nothing." And she pulls his fingers to her face, and he can sense how she
truly does not fear him.
He witnesses the deaths,
tries to ease some of that pain since she has asked for it and hears her
murmur, "Thank you." Then he sees his brother. So focused on his own
pain he can only see that, holding onto this child as if she too will die and
leave him. Suffocating her.
He checks to make sure she is
not a sleeper agent, that there are no obvious triggers set to awaken her and
put her on some kind of path of retribution. He finds none.
She is what she says, a girl
in pain who wishes to find peace in logic. He looks at his father and nods as
he says, "She will live with us."
He feels Christine's
annoyance slam at him through the bond. He turns to look at her. "She will
live with us, will she not?"
She is very still for a
moment, then she nods. He is grateful Valeris came looking for logic and not
emotion—he is not sure she will get much from Christine.
But then she surprises him by
getting up and saying, "Come on Saavik, let's get her set up in something
a little less formal. Do you swim, Valeris?"
"I can swim. If I
must."
"Oh, you mean you are
not skilled." Saavik's expression is taunting
without being cruel. "Guess we will not race, then."
"I can race." Her
tone is defiant—clearly she has a competitive nature.
"Do you run for
enjoyment?" Spock asks, dreading the answer.
"Who would do such a
thing?" She smiles and then bites it back. "I enjoy three-dimensional
chess."
"As does your uncle. So
come with us and get changed and then maybe you can play a game with him."
Christine meets his eyes and smiles.
He catches up with her at the
doorway, the two girls going on ahead. "I realize I should have
asked."
"It's family. What else
can we do? But if Michael wants to send us a kid from the future to take in,
could it be a boy? We're getting a little estrogen heavy."
He touches her face, amused
despite himself. "She will not be as easy for you to manage as
Saavik."
"Which is why you're
going to do the managing. I'll just provide emotional support." She leans
up and kisses him then goes into the house.
"My son, your family
expands with no effort on your part."
"Sarek, do not ask them
if they are going to have a baby."
"I was not. But since
you bring it up..."
He ignores his father and
goes in to retrieve the chess board. His brother was quite skilled at the game;
he looks forward to seeing what he taught his daughter.
##
He watches Valeris and
Christine interact over the rest of the weekend. They are wary around each
other, and Saavik seems to be constantly hovering whenever the two of them are
together too long.
"You do not like
me," Valeris says to Saavik after her latest pass by the table where
Christine is working and Valeris is reading the first of the lessons he has
chosen for her.
"I do not trust you.
There is a difference."
"We both lost our
mothers and our fathers abandoned us."
Christine's head shoots up.
"How do you know that? About her? And your story yesterday was not that he
abandoned you but rather overwhelmed you."
"Yes, by wanting me to
be Angel. He abandoned any path where I could simply be me."
"But how do you know
about me?" Saavik asks, her voice taking on a dangerous tone.
"As I said, Angel was
fascinated—almost obsessed—with Spock." She looks over at him. "I
think they wanted to bring you into our side of the family. They were sexually
open."
"How old are you?"
Christine asks.
"Old enough to
understand sex. And twelve."
"Your family didn't make
you...?" Christine's voice is gentle now, her eyes no longer hard.
"No. They loved me as a
child. It was nothing inappropriate."
"Okay."
"You are fascinating. I
am a burden to you, arriving now so soon after you have—potentially interfering
with your private time with Spock. And yet I hear worry in your
voice...concern."
He gets up and walks over to
the table. "How long have you been watching us, Valeris, that you know
Christine is newly arrived."
"For a while. It is hard
to enter an established group. To find a place. But Christine is new and Saavik
is transitioning. I thought there would be room for me now."
"Valeris, how
long?" He sits and takes her hand, reading her for any sign of a lie.
"Five months."
He finds it highly
disconcerting that this girl has been watching them for that long and none of
them were the wiser. "I see."
"My father set me up
financially. I could afford to wait for the right time. Before Christine
arrived, you and Saavik were insular. I did not think I would be welcome."
She looks over at Christine. "But I am aware that I might not be welcome
now when you are about to have him all to yourself."
"Will your father come
looking for you?" Christine asks. "Will he want you back?"
"No. I have rejected his
ways and that hurt him. But he has lived his life espousing freedom of choice.
How can he deny me mine. His only requirement was that I learn at his brother's
knee. Because Spock would understand my struggles to transition from a life
inundated with emotion to one of logic."
"Do you need me to love
you?" When Spock is about to protest, Christine quickly shakes her head,
in their old way, the way that says she has a purpose in her questioning.
"If logic is all you seek?"
Valeris goes very still.
"I had two mothers. I know what it is to be loved sincerely. If you do not
feel that you can care for me, then we will coexist without emotion." She
is not meeting Christine's eyes.
"That sounds like a
pretty grim way to live. Maybe we can learn to care for each other. If you
don't plan to give up everything for logic?"
"I do not want to excise
every emotion. There are positive aspects to affection—to caring. But I do not
want to feel this pain. This rage—at the Klingons for killing my mothers, at my
father for taking us out there in the first place." She looks down.
"Although it was Angel who made the decisions on where to go and when. It
is their fault they and T'Vashti are dead." She
exhales as if that is a truth she has been carrying for some time. "I
could not say that to my father. He wanted to blame himself—made them
saints."
"I know what it's like
to watch people disappear when they're sitting right in front of you."
Christine reaches over and strokes Valeris's hair.
"Angel was a force of nature. They would not have wanted you to be
struggling. They would trust Spock to help you."
"I believe so too."
She reaches for Christine's hand, and Spock thinks she wants to feel what
Christine is feeling. "I think they would trust you to help me too."
For a moment, Christine lets
her hold on, sitting quietly with a gentle smile. Then she eases away.
"Valeris, I'm going to let you study. Saavik, do you want to do the beach
or the cliff trail?"
"Can we run through
town? I have a desire for things not available here."
Valeris looks up at him.
"She means meat."
"Snitches never prosper,
child." Christine rolls her eyes at him. "And he already knows. You
can't hide meat breath from a Vulcan." They leave discussing which burger
place they want to go to.
"Why do they run?"
Valeris asks, confusion evident.
"That is something only
runners understand." He sits next to her. "You will see and hear many
things in our apartment, in the embassy, and in this house. You are not to
repeat them. You will not win points with me by sharing. In fact, you will lose
them. If I cannot trust you to keep silent about what happens around you, I
cannot have you here."
"I apologize. I...she
frightens me a little. I wanted to take her down a little."
"As she intends you to
feel. She is half Romulan and that part is never far."
"But you love her?"
"She is my daughter. Do
not ever tell her she is not. That too will not be tolerated."
She looks down. "It is
possible there were...games played in our family. Emotions can make people
mean."
"Understood." He
touches her shoulder, then gestures to the padd. "How are you finding the
lesson?"
"It is interesting. May
we discuss it when I finish?"
"I would welcome
that."
##
Spock is playing chess with
Valeris when his comm sounds. He pulls up the video on a nearby padd and sees
it is Jim.
Accepting the call, he says,
"Jim, it is a pleasure."
"So formal, Spock? I
know Chris isn't there. Cartwright's got her out working with his emergency ops
people. He'll have her over there in no time if you aren't careful."
Spock believes this is true.
He can tell Valeris is listening in avidly but has also moved so there is no
chance she will be caught in the video. What else has she learned in her
childhood of piracy and running?
"Well, listen, Antonia
and I just finished our house in the mountains. It's gorgeous and your girl
will love the trails."
"Saavik is at Stanford,
Jim."
"Oh, wow. They grow up
so fast." Then Jim gives him a knowing look. "So much for the
Academy, huh? Chris comes in and takes over. How long did you wait, by the way,
before you went for her?"
"I did not go for her,
Jim." Although he no doubt would have once he knew she was free. "She
came to me."
Jim laughs. "That I
believe. She does tend to get what she wants. And what she's wanted for a long
time is you."
Spock is not sure if Jim is
trying to turn him off his rather abstract invitation to his new house or if he
is just in the mood Christine told him about. Stuck on land and coming out of
his skin.
He knows he should mention
Valeris, that he has another girl he could bring to the mountains, but Jim
reacted so strongly to him having one daughter when he could not see his son.
How will he feel about him having two?
She is legally his ward and a
cousin, not his niece. But it has taken no time for him to think of her as more
than any of those things. Especially when she makes it so easy for him, clearly
wanting to be like him.
It is flattering. He now
understands how Christine feels about Saavik wanting to be like her.
He glances at Valeris and
sees no sign of distress that he has not mentioned her. She meets his eyes, her
own in a slight frown as if trying to figure out the relationship he now has
with Jim. What has become of their legendary friendship?
He would like to know that
too.
Although he knows what has
come between them. A woman Valeris is growing to love despite herself, he
thinks.
Jim look contrite. "So,
I'm going to be at Starfleet Command in a few weeks. Guest speaker thing. They have
a dinner planned but maybe afterwards—can we squeeze in time for chess?"
"We can."
Jim is tapping—Spock cannot
see what it is but he can hear it. He does not think his friend is even aware
he is doing it. Clearly Antonia is not keeping him sane the way he used to say
Christine did.
"I'll send you the
dates." He is looking over his shoulder. "I have to go." The
connection goes dead.
"Someone was coming he
did not want to hear your conversation." Valeris watches him carefully.
"I know I am not supposed to comment on things I hear, but you look
troubled."
"How much do you know of
my and Christine's history?"
"You were with T'Pring
but fell in love with Christine. But T'Pring would not let you go. So Christine
left you and the ship. You were reunited on the ship and when T'Pring
challenged and you were free, you two were together." She frowns.
"But it is confusing after that. Because you sought Kolinahr and then left
it—where was she in all this?"
"With Jim. But it is, as
you say, confusing. Suffice it to say that he and I are now trying to work
around her."
"Angel told me once that
Christine was kind but would always find a way to get what she wanted. Your
friend just said essentially the same thing."
He considers that.
"Probably apt. But the kindness is important. She does not set out to harm
others."
"She has been kind to
me. Kinder than I expected." She looks down. "Why did you not mention
me to him just now?"
So she did care. "What I
am about to say is just between us. Do you understand?"
She nods.
"He has a son. He is not
allowed to see him."
"By the courts because
he is a bad father?"
"No, by the boy's
mother, because she is very controlling and Jim did not do as she willed."
"So another
T'Pring?"
He almost smiles. "Perhaps,
yes." He leans in. "When I took in Saavik, he was happy, on the ship.
And yet it hurt him. That I could have a daughter given to me by fate when his
own son..."
"Was kept from
him."
He nods.
"He is not on the ship
now. And that was not the voice of a happy man. You have another daughter
gifted by fate."
He is always amazed at how
quick she is. How Vulcan intelligence combined with unfettered emotional access
gives her almost immediate insight into motivations. "Precisely."
"You did not wish to
hurt him when he is clearly already unhappy." She sounds relieved.
"Under different
circumstances, I would introduce you. I am proud of you, Valeris. So proud. And
honored that you trust me, that you wish to follow my path and not that of your
father. I hope you are content here—I know it is different than what you grew
up with."
"I feel safe here,
Spock. I have felt loved all my life but I have never felt safe. Not until
now."
"You are safe, Valeris.
You are always safe with me."
##
He is sitting on the couch
with Christine and they are kissing but not too seriously, knowing Valeris will
be home soon from her tutoring session but loathe to waste time now that they
have it. Especially now that Christine is going to be taking on a new role—Jim
was right: Cartwright did steal her away from Starfleet Medical for Emergency
Operations, as a medical consultant for at least part of her week. The rest of
the time she will be a simple doctor as McCoy used to call it.
He hears the door open, then
Valeris calls out, "Help."
They both get up and run to
the foyer, where Valeris is trying to hold up La'an, who appears to be highly
intoxicated.
"I found her in the
lobby."
"Found would imply I was
trying to hide. And I was not. You would not have found me if I was
hiding." She studies Valeris. "Do I know you?"
"No."
"Well, I like you
because you're really strong and did not let me fall."
Christine eases her off
Valeris, who says with a look full of sympathy, "She's in a lot of
pain." But when Christine pulls her scanner out, she shakes her head.
"Emotional pain, not physical."
"The young one speaks
truth." La'an allows Christine to ease her to the living room and onto the
couch.
He can tell she's been
crying, and he can only imagine one thing—one person—who could make her show
weakness this way. He sits next to her. "La'an, is she...?"
She touches his face and he
feels the vestiges of the meld they shared during the Gorn
fight—and through it, he sees her: Una. The way he remembers her from decades
ago. "She's gone."
"Antitox, Christine.
Now."
But it is Valeris who runs to
their bedroom and gets it, who hands it to Christine and says, "I did not
think you would want to leave her. Even for a moment."
"You thought right,
sweetheart. Although we're going to discuss how you knew where this was."
She turns La'an to face her. "Baby, open your
mouth."
"I'm not your baby. I
wish I was." But she opens her mouth and Christine slips in the antitox. A
moment later she begins to cry, and Christine holds her tightly.
He gets up and brings the
silk throw Saavik always told him was soothing when she was hurting and wraps
it around La'an. Then he moves back and pulls Valeris against him, his arm
around her shoulders.
"Who's gone?" she
whispers so low only another Vulcan could hear.
"Our mentor," he
murmurs back just as softly.
La'an turns to look at them.
"Who are you really, young one?"
"My name is Valeris. I
am sorry for your loss. But I don't know who it was who died."
"She was so good they
called her Number One. She was the best officer I've ever worked with. So what
if she lied? She did it to protect people. And they couldn't see—they pretend
to do things to protect us but putting her in prison was not protecting
us." She is talking fast, but Valeris seems to be following the thread.
"Who pretends?"
"Starfleet brass. The
Federation. They make rules but they don't protect the people who need
protecting. Someone like Styles is in line for captain when she should already
have been one. Not rotting in prison." She sobs and turns back to
Christine. "You tried to help. You tried so hard."
"I did. They didn't want
her free. We made the case. They just wouldn't listen."
"I should have done it.
I should have broken her out." She jerks away from Christine and is up and
at him. Pushing him back with a hard shove and then back again. "Why
didn't you help me do that? She loved us both? We were hers. You helped Pike.
Why not her?"
He pulls her in, primarily so
she will stop pushing him but also to comfort. "I would have. But she did
not want me to."
She looks up at him.
"You managed to talk to her?"
"I did not. I went
through a rather circuitous route to get a message to her. Right after the
verdict came in." They were the most unsavory people he has ever dealt
with, in fact. But he would have done worse if she had wanted to be set free.
"She forbid me from helping. Moreover, she told me to stop you if you tried.
There was nothing you could do."
"There was everything I
could have done. If I'd just done it. But I thought, in time, Starfleet would
let her go. Maybe not reinstate her but let her go. Instead she died..."
She hugs him. "Another inmate killed her, but I think she just finally
gave up, you know? She was a fighter."
"Yes, yes she was."
"I need a drink."
"I will make you
one," Valeris says. "It is one my father used to make. It is not
alcoholic."
"We have the
ingredients?" Christine asks.
"I do. I smuggled some
out with me."
La'an starts to laugh.
"Who are you really?"
"She is my ward. A
distant cousin. Her parents were killed."
"Another
foundling." She leans in to Valeris. "He's the last person I'd expect
to take in one much less two orphans. But people can surprise you."
Valeris nods and takes La'an's hand, without correcting her terminology—neither
she nor Saavik are technically orphans so long as their fathers still live.
"I can make the drink better if I can feel you."
"Feel?"
"Her parents were V'tosh ka'tur."
Valeris nods. "But I am
learning the way of logic from Spock—well, and my tutor." She digs around
in the kitchen, in the back of a cabinet neither he nor Christine use very
often and pulls out a small bag.
Christine nudges him.
"We're going to be hiding presents at the embassy. There's no way she
won't find them here." She leans into him and they watch as she mixes
herbs that look very familiar into the glass.
He lets out a puff of air,
the kind Christine knows is a laugh. "It is my mother's recipe for a cough
syrup for a certain type of Vulcan virus. In addition to bringing on sleep, it
makes one very relaxed—almost pushes problems away."
"What about the part
where she needs to feel La'an to make it right?"
"It is possible Sybok
has modified it somewhat. More likely it is nothing more than stagecraft. To
make it appear to be tailored."
Christine laughs. "And
make the user more open to it working." She moves closer. "Can I scan
it when you're done, Valeris?"
"Of course. I would like
to order more and it would help to know what it is—I didn't take very much when
I left. Father would have noticed. He was using this a lot...to forget."
She shares a look with both of them. "When he wasn't trying to convince me
how much he loved me. The more he said it, the less I believed it. I worshipped
him when I was young—I never doubted him. But then he lost them and he
changed."
Spock coughs lightly and she
seems to realize she has come dangerously close to telling La'an her true
origins. "It's possible the fumes..."
"Understood." He
gives her a gentle nod of encouragement.
La'an leans down and says,
"We all have our secrets. And yours are safe with me. Whoever you are—you
brought me up here where I'm safe."
"And loved,"
Christine says.
"Yes. And loved. So
thank you, Valeris. For taking care of me. And in case it's not clear, my name
is La'an."
"I know. Saavik has
pictures of you in our room."
"I'm very fond of
Saavik." She ruffles Valeris's hair. "I
think I'm going to be equally fond of you. You're a very kind young lady."
"I just wanted to
help." She gestures for Christine to scan the drink, then she presents it
to La'an with great solemnity. "This will
help."
La'an sips it and makes a face.
"I did not say it would
taste good while it helped."
Christine laughs as she comes
back to Spock, showing him the ingredient list and he nods. This is indeed his
mother's recipe.
"Drink it down,"
Valeris says, and Spock can see his brother and Angel in her through the care
she is showing—but also the manipulation. Then again his mate, his mother, his
father, his sister, and his best friend are all masters of manipulation, so
should he mind? No one would say they are not good people.
"This is good stuff,
little one." La'an puts her arm around Valeris. "But I need to get
home now."
"No, you can sleep in Saavik's bed. She will not mind." Valeris looks at him
and Christine, as if to make sure of that, and they both nod. "If you do
not mind sharing a room with me, I mean. I know what it's like to lose
people."
"You do find the
sweetest girls, Spock." Her eyes are drooping and she is smiling slightly.
"I'm so tired."
"Let's get you
settled." Christine urges Valeris to take her into the room she shares
with Saavik on the rare nights Saavik is home.
The door closes and he sits
down heavily, remembering the woman who was so kind to him, who took him under
her wing and made him the officer he is today. He thinks of Chris, on Talos IV,
how would he feel knowing Una was gone? He never gave up on appeals, even when
there were no more legal avenues. Right up to the accident. Until he could no
longer fight for her.
Christine comes out and pulls
him into a tight hug. "She's in bed and Valeris is reading to her from her
logic homework. It's really sweet." Then she strokes his hair and opens
the bond up fully so he can feel her concern—and her love. "I can feel how
much you're hurting. Share it if you wish."
He buries his face in her
head and drops every shield. She staggers for a second but then tightens her
hold on him. "Oh, Spock, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."
He is holding on too tightly.
He can feel that, but he can't let go. If he lets go, he might break.
"It's okay. I'm okay.
Just let me be your strength right now."
"I should have broken
her out. What sense was it for her to die in there?"
"It was what she wanted.
Not that she wanted to die—I don't mean that. Although maybe she did give up.
But don't you see, Spock? You and La'an were her legacy. What she gave to Starfleet over and above
her own service. And you two are amazing officers. If you had broken her
out—been lost to Starfleet—her legacy would truly have been nothing."
He has never considered it
that way. It is one reason he loves her so—how her mind works, how quickly she
can think of counter arguments, how insightful and caring she is.
"I love you,
Christine."
"I love you, too,
Spock."
##
The next morning, he and
Christine sit down with Valeris in the living room. La'an is still sleeping.
"I am in trouble,"
Valeris says before they can even begin.
"Not technically."
Christine sounds as if she has a plan for this, so he lets her take the lead.
Even though he remembers her telling him he would be the one to manage Valeris.
"We never told you not to go through our things."
"Or hide your things in
our cabinets," he adds.
"But still, if you had,
I would be in trouble."
"If we had but you did
it anyway, yes. But again, we never said not to. We just want to talk to you
about this behavior." Before Valeris can launch into what is no doubt
another logical "But what if" tangent, she says, "I think
information was currency in your childhood. Getting it, keeping it, then using
it if you had to. Am I wrong?"
Valeris visibly swallows.
"You are not."
"Something about what I
said frightened you."
"How do you know
that?" She looks at Spock. "I have a tell? Did you see it too?"
"I did."
"Would a true Vulcan
display this tell?"
He thinks of his father over
the years. He has never seen him do it. But he has seen T'Pring do it.
"Yes."
She seems to relax.
"Will you tell me what it is?"
"That would be very
stupid of me, wouldn't it?" Christine smiles in a way he is not sure he
entirely approves of. "I have information you now want."
"I will replay the
conversation in my mind while standing in front of a mirror. I will see in time
what I have done. I will correct it."
She shakes her head.
"Knock yourself out but it won't work. Emotional responses don't work that
way."
"But when I learn the
ways of logic..."
"Perhaps then you will
no longer show fear."
"I showed fear?"
She takes an unevenly deep breath and then looks down. "That too was a
tell—the way I just breathed."
Christine nods.
"There was a member of
Angel's crew. They had so many different crew. They left them whenever they
needed a quick escape and then formed a new crew once back in the fold. Angel's
loyalty was..."
"Shitty."
"Christine." He
looks at Valeris and shakes his head. "Do not swear as she and Saavik
do."
"I will not."
Christine rolls her eyes at
him. "Anyway, this crew...?"
"One of the men made me
uncomfortable. I tried to tell Angel but they told me it was time to learn to
assert control. They knew I was stronger physically than this man but still, he
was..."
"You don't have to
explain. I know exactly what kind of man he was."
"I went through his
belongings. I found things that were...strange. I did not understand at the
time how strange but I took them. He wanted them back. I said I would give them
back to him in front of the crew and Angel. He never bothered me again. Or
mentioned the things."
"Do you still have
them?"
"No. I burned them when
he died on one of Angel's stupid missions."
Spock feels a pang for
her—what kind of childhood must she have had? "Do you think you need to
collect information on us, Valeris? You told me you felt safe here."
"I do. But I want to know
you—both of you." She includes Christine in her look.
"That will take
time."
"She wants to know the
real us, Spock. Not what we tell her. Is that it?"
"There are things people
say. Things they state they are. And then there is what is inside their secret
places. And they are often not the same thing. Why do you, who espouse logic,
have antitox in your medicine cabinet?"
"It's mine, sweetie, not
his. When were you in our medicine cabinet?"
"I checked. Over half of
humans surveyed snoop into the medicine cabinets of homes they are
visiting. Even if it means going into rooms they were not specifically invited
into."
"You are barely
human." Spock can see them cycling over this forever. The girl has an
answer for everything.
"Do you believe Vulcans
do not look?"
"I do believe
that." He looks to Christine for help.
She smiles gently. "If I
tell you it's wrong to look through people's things without their permission,
will you believe me? If I tell you it goes to an individual's integrity to be
able to resist, will you try not to do it?"
"And yet you cannot
resist overindulging in intoxicants or you would not need antitox. You are a
doctor."
"Antitox works in ninety
seconds."
"And a human can bleed
out in less than two minutes if appropriately cut. Could you save them?"
"I would not be
intoxicated on duty."
"So you have never had a
drink while on duty?"
Christine swallows the same
way Valeris did.
Valeris laughs and then
immediately bites it back. "You also have a tell, Christine. I wonder if
it is the same one?" She gets up and starts to pace. "I hear you
saying these things so seriously about my small infractions. And yet did you
not say, Spock, that you would have helped Number One escape if she had wanted
that?"
He is unsure how to answer.
"I looked up her case.
Augmentation." She turns to Christine. "You checked me for that, did
you not?"
"I did. You're not, if
you were worried."
"I was not. You would
have displayed more agitation if my readings had indicated such a thing. But
Number One was augmented and she lied about it for years. She masqueraded as a
human."
"She was so close the
sensors did not pick up the difference. I scanned her numerous times when I was
a nurse."
"Perhaps you are incompetent?"
She lifts an eyebrow. "Or perhaps she was so well changed because there
was more to her than you think. Malicious intent, perhaps? Did you meld with
her the way you did with me, Spock?"
He shakes his head.
"There was no cause."
"And yet you were
willing to break all rules to help her? And Pike. I looked him up last night
too. La'an said you helped him. How? His record just ends. I could find no
trace of him after a certain date. As if he...vanished."
"We are not here to
discuss these people, Valeris."
"Of course not. Because
adults make rules for me and then break them for themselves." True anger
is on her face. And then tears he thinks she is not aware of. "I do not
understand. She was guilty, let her rot in prison."
"There are gradations of
guilt," La'an says from the hallway. "And yes, grownups lie."
She walks in. "Sorry to crash the family meeting."
"Coffee's made."
"Bless you, my
angel."
Before she can go into the
kitchen, Valeris turns on her. "You are in security. And yet you wanted to
help her escape."
La'an studies her.
"Here's what these two will never say. Some things supersede integrity or
right and wrong. You think you won't ever do the wrong thing but then it
happens—someone you love gets hurt. Or hurts you. And you betray them. You
betray them so badly that..."
Spock goes very still and he
hears Christine say, "La'an, no."
"And you did it because
she taught you not to lie when you were a child. She told you it was wrong. And
then you found out she did it. And you think you're okay with it until the Gorn attack and you're back to being that child. But then
you win—you beat the Gorn. With the help of someone
else this woman mentored." She looks at him, her eyes pleading. "And
you think maybe it's okay that she lied. Until you have to face them close up
again. And someone you care about dies. And you see another child, just like
you. The last of the prey." She is shaking as she brushes tears off her
eyes. "And you call Starfleet Command and tell the head of security what
you know. And then she's locked up and she never gets out and she dies. And she
never knows it was you who did it."
She is weeping now, sinking
to the ground, and he and Christine are both frozen but Valeris goes to her.
Valeris hugs her and says, "Grown-ups hurt us the most when they love us.
It is better not to love." She is holding onto La'an as if she can become
one with her.
"I've tried that. It
doesn't work. People break through. Like these two. I shouldn't have come. I
shouldn't have ever come." She meets his eyes. "Forgive me?"
He wants to tell her it is
not for him to forgive her. He wants to tell her Number One would have
understood.
But all he feels is rage.
And then it is as if
something cool splashes over the fire inside him. Christine gets up and moves
between them and says, "It wasn't just you."
She holds her hand out as he
starts to get up. "Una chose first. We had written up the report for the
encounter very specifically to not reveal her secret and she made us change it so
we were not lying. She did not want us going down for her crimes. Starfleet
knew long before you told them, La'an. Both Joseph and I were grilled after the
reports were submitted, as I assume was the captain. You didn't tell them
anything they didn't already know."
"I didn't get her
killed?"
"No." She lets up
on the calmness she is pressing all over him. "But you still betrayed
her."
He stands but is afraid to
move. "Get out."
"I'm sorry, Spock."
She looks at Christine. "Are we still friends?"
"We are. I just don't
know what that means at this moment."
Valeris turns to glare at
her. "That's not fair. She did what was right. She acted with
integrity." She looks at Spock. "I can feel your rage from here. You
want to hurt her—you want to kill her."
She is right: he does.
"How does any of this
make sense?" Valeris says as she urges La'an up. "You need to
go."
"I had two friends when
I came here."
"You still do. Christine
and me." She is pushing her out the door as Spock trails behind them,
wanting to move, forcing himself not to.
He is no longer the man who
dented a ship's panel. Who smashed his computer. Who...
He turns and breaks a vase
that is something Christine has indicated she does not like. It shatters and
some sharp pieces bounce back and lodge in his skin.
"Is this logic?"
Valeris asks. "It feels like being back with them." Then she runs to
her room.
"Spock?" Christine
is torn—not afraid but unsure what to do.
"Go to her. Before we
lose her. I will clean up."
"You're bleeding."
He turns to her and writes
"Why?" on his arm in his own blood. "You never told me you were
questioned."
"We signed things. I wasn't
even fleet then. My contract depended on my discretion."
"And then you
left."
"And then I left."
She turns and hurries into Valeris's room. He hears
the sound of Valeris sobbing, then it is cut off by the closing of the door.
He is the only one who did
not betray Una. Even the captain did, in his way. Allowing the report to go
forward the way she wanted instead of sending it the way it was originally
written.
To protect her.
To lie.
He closes his eyes and seeks
some sort of peace. Valeris is correct—how can any of them teach her the things
she wishes to know?
He attends to his wounds,
then cleans up the remnants of the vase before knocking on the door to Valeris's room. Christine opens it.
She is not afraid, but she is
wary.
"You did what you had to
do. You did what the truth called on you to do."
She nods.
"I am sorry that I
questioned that." He touches her cheek. "Deeply sorry."
"Okay." She nods
and leaves him with Valeris.
"I must apologize to
you. I do not know if I am the right person to be your teacher in logic."
"You think your father
would be a better choice?"
"Or anyone
possibly." He sits next to her and does not fight when she reaches for the
meld points. "Go ahead."
She curls into him as her fingers
press in, as she joins with him—but not without effort. She is not used to
doing this, so he puts his fingers over hers and helps her find her focus.
She shows him how chaotic her
homelife was, how T'Vashti would try to bring order
but could not overrule his brother or Angel. The number of times she was happy
but then had to run. The people lost to Klingons and Orions
and even once the Gorn—Angel had jettisoned a
lifeboat of loyal crew to allow the rest of them to escape.
She was pragmatic. The needs
of the many.
"Yes," he murmurs,
remembering how pragmatic, willing to kill his brother rather than consign him
back to Ankeshtan K'til.
Then Valeris shows him
something else, everything she has done since she arrived here, all the places
she has explored, what she has hidden where. How over the time she has been
here she would go and check and see everything in its same place and feel
grounded.
Even now, with everything,
seeing what just happened from her viewpoint, she feels safe.
Confused. Irritated. Hurting
for the pain she felt in La'an. Unsure of how truth and logic and love all fit
together.
But safe.
"I have not ruined
this?" he whispers.
She lets the meld go.
"No." She lays her head in his lap and weeps.
He feels his own eyes fill as
he strokes her hair and murmurs passages from The Teachings of Surak to her until she finally stops.
She sits up and wipes her
cheeks, then his own. "You must forgive La'an."
"Why?" He does not say
it to be belligerent. He truly wants to know her reasoning.
"I felt who she was. And
she is like me. And like you. And even like Saavik. And we are broken. And
broken things can be discarded like the vase you just undoubtedly threw out or
they can be mended."
"The vase could not be
mended."
"Perhaps not. And if you
cannot forgive her because she is good at her essence but just did a bad thing,
then let me be as pragmatic as Angel. La'an will be
loyal to you until she dies if you forgive her this. And she will be
important—is already important—in Starfleet. I looked her up too."
"Where are you looking
everyone up?"
She smiles in a way that is
more Vulcan than her old manner. "T'Vashti was a
skilled hacker."
"You must not—"
"I know. I know. I must
not use my power for anything bad—unless, of course, it is for a good
cause."
"That is not a lesson I
wished you to learn."
"Will you forgive her? I
like her. I want her here. And Saavik likes her too. And Christine loves her.
It will help bond us all to have her here."
"More pragmatism."
He allows himself a small smile. "But also logic, which I applaud. I will
forgive her." He gives her a stern look, so she will not push as she seems
about to. That is his brother in her—he remembers the same look on his face
when Spock was not doing something fast enough. "But in my own time."
##
Spock sees Valeris packing a
bag and feels a moment of distress. He thought she was settled again after that
terrible night with La'an. "Are you going somewhere?"
She smiles the same way
Christine does when she wishes to soothe him. "Your friend Kirk is coming
over. I assumed you wished privacy. Amanda is taking me to Paris."
He cocks his head and almost
smiles. Valeris has wanted to go to Paris for weeks. This is hardly self sacrificing. "Most kind of you to look out for me
in such a beneficial way for yourself."
"Win win.
Is that not the preferred outcome?" She slings the pack over her shoulder.
"Do you feel the same closeness with him now?"
"No. He is not at his
best when on land."
"Angel always said you
must prosper where you fall."
"A most pragmatic
stance. But sadly not always possible." He walks her to the door. "If
you wish to stay and meet him...?"
"What is that human
saying? Two is company but three's a crowd?" She meets his eyes.
"With Christine between you, will you and he always be you and he and
she?"
Her insight is so often
unnerving. "He is with someone. My relationship with Christine predates
his."
She cocks her head the way he
does when he views her answers as skirting the true issue.
Then her personal
communicator sounds and she says, "Amanda is downstairs." She never
calls his mother "Grandmother," has fallen so easily into the
deception. Her upbringing again, making her almost a chameleon.
He waves her off. "Go.
Enjoy Paris. Tell my mother that Saavik has deigned to join us this weekend at
the beach house." Saavik is thriving at Stanford but he misses her and the
different energy she brings than Valeris.
A more straightforward one.
And her upbringing was as atypical as Valeris's
although he got her perhaps before it was too late, before she had fully formed
her own identity. Only two years but two crucial ones.
Although they are not saying
Valeris is twelve. After talking with her for many hours both he and his father
agreed she did not interact—even without formal Vulcan training—like a
twelve-year-old. Her life with her parents and whatever motley assortment they
pulled in had matured her.
His father had then mentioned
it in passing to her that it was a shame her papers could not be altered to
show her as a fourteen-year-old since he thought she would find that age group
more amenable once she entered the same school Saavik had gone to.
A few days later, a courier
arrived at the apartment and left a package with the concierge. New papers were
inside, showing her age as fourteen. When Spock mentioned it to his father, he
nodded. "I thought she might still be able to contact your brother."
"Do you want to speak to
him?"
"No." His answer
was immediate and emotionless. "But it is good to know if we need to, we
have the means."
"She is more than just a
means to me, Father."
"As she is to me, Spock.
She is a charming child." Although his voice lacked the warmth it always
held when he spoke of Saavik.
Then again, Christine was not
as fond of her either, nor was his mother. Not that they were in any way unkind
to her. They just clearly preferred Saavik.
It was good then, that
Valeris had him.
"I will tell her Saavik
will be there. She will be happy." Valeris's
smile is a little forced; she and Saavik so far are not as close as he thinks
she wishes. But it is good for her to have to try at something—not everything
should come as effortlessly as it seems to.
He sets out the chess set in
the living room then goes to the window and stares out over the city, feeling
for Christine. She is with Emergency Ops again. He would find it unnerving that
Jim seems to know her schedule well enough to set their visits for times she is
off world, except that Cartwright is a close friend who no doubt wants to spare
him pain.
It does bother him though
that Jim will not be in the same room with her—is it because things were so raw
between them when it ended that he just cannot tolerate her? She has never
said.
Or is it that, for Jim, it
never ended? Even though he left her for another woman?
That idea bothers him far
more.
The chime rings and he says,
"Come." It does not surprise him that Jim has gotten around the
security protocols in his building designed to keep guests in the lobby until
invited up.
"I come bearing
rye." His grin is a true one. "Since Chris keeps Scotch here for me,
it only seems fair to bring her something good from my area."
"Most kind." He has
put out the scotch and the glasses Jim prefers and watches him fix himself a
drink—a larger pour than he would have done on the ship. "How is life in
the mountains?"
"Great." He looks
back, this time his grin even bigger. "I got a dog. Great Dane. Butler.
He's fabulous. Can't have that on a ship." His energy suddenly seems a bit
off—manic perhaps?
"You have always wanted
one of that breed."
"Yes. Yes I have. And a dog
loves you forever—and you it. There's none of the problems you get with people.
Letting you down."
Is he referring to Christine?
Or to him? He must not be hiding his confusion because Jim says, "I mean
I'm letting Antonia down. She wants me settled. Happy—at peace. She wants to
build stables now, bring the horses over from the farm."
"You enjoy riding."
"I do. It's one of my
favorite things. But..." He shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink
as he walks to the chessboard. "You're happy here? Your cadets. Christine.
Your girl? Settled life suits you?"
He nods, wanting to tell him
he has two girls, but as always, it seems the wrong time. "Perhaps moving
the horses is a bridge too far?"
"The ultimate
capitulation to reality: I'm not in Starfleet, I'll never have a ship again,
and I'm bor—" He takes another sip. "Let's
play, for God's sake, instead of me yammering on." He makes the first
move, one he has done many times before, and Spock settles in to play, knowing
this game could go many ways but all of them are designed to obliterate him
quickly.
He will have to work hard to
prevent that. Jim loves a fight.
"I need your counsel,
Jim."
"You need mine?
Hopefully not about Chris?"
"No. A friend." He
almost stumbles over the word. Were La'an and he ever really friends? Or were
they connected only through their love of Una? "She has done—well, did, in
the past, but I just learned of it—something that I consider a betrayal. Not of
me, per se. But of someone I held dear." He makes his move and meet's Jim's
eyes. "How did you forgive me my betrayal?"
"I didn't at first. I
was mad at hell. I'll admit part of why I wanted Chris so bad was to get back
at you. Which doesn't speak well of me during that time. Then it grew to be
something else." He looks down. "But ultimately, what you did, you
did out of love. I kept coming back to that." He makes his move. "And
it's not like you're still doing it, right? Entering minds without
permission?"
"Correct. I believe what
this person did was out of pain."
"Pain in general or pain
from love? Because pain from any kind of love is just a side effect, my
friend." He grins in a way he would have on the ship and Spock finds
himself finally relaxing. "If you're asking about it, it means you want to
forgive. If we don't want to forgive, no power on this Earth—or any other
planet—is going to make us."
"You are, as ever, wise,
my friend."
##
The breezes are blowing gently
off the beach onto the patio as Saavik tells them about her latest project.
Valeris interrupts, "Why
are you doing that? Talking so... rigidly Vulcan? It's not you."
"I drop a few
contractions, get rid of the slang, quit swearing—for the most part—and people
take me more seriously. Like they would Spock or Grandfather."
"Grandfather? He's not
your grandfather."
"Look, just because you
can't say he's your grandfather doesn't make him any less so. I'm sure it's
unpleasant not being able to share your lineage"—she grins as Spock gives
her the look that says to stop torturing Valeris by sounding so formally
Vulcan—"but think of it as a cool secret only a few of us know."
"Besides," his
mother says as she pours herself some more ice tea. "Saavik is officially
adopted so she's in. I know it's hard, darling, having to hide who you are, but
you're still a cousin. That's not nothing in this house."
"We have a lot of
cousins."
"Fine, but most do not
frequent this place. Family is family. Just like Christine." She looks
over at him. "Would you like more tea, darling?"
"Please." He holds
out his glass and suddenly the bond between him and Christine is—gone. There is
a snap of pain and then...nothing. Total emptiness where before there was
connection.
"Christine," he
cries out, crushing the glass in his hand, barely noticing that he is bleeding.
"No!" He sinks to the ground and searches harder for her.
She is gone.
"No..." He almost
wails it, reaching out again and again for her as his father lifts him off of
the ground, as Valeris pries open his hand and starts to pick out the glass
pieces, and Saavik joins her.
He shrugs them off and is
about to run—to where he has no idea when the bond is violently brought back to
life.
He staggers but Saavik
catches him. "Christine. Not dead."
But then the bond goes almost
dormant. He can feel her but it is as if she is behind glass. "Where is
she?"
He forces himself to stand straight,
to pull down his shirt, smearing blood over it, pushing glass that has not been
extracted further in. "I must contact Cartwright."
"My son, you are in no
shape. Moreover, in this case, I may have more reach. I work frequently with
him and his people. Let me help?"
"No I must. It is not
fitting that anyone else check on my mate." He is reeling, not making
sense. Of course the head of his house can check on his daughter. "Father,
forgive me, but I need to..."
"Let me do this for you,
Spock." He motions for Saavik and Valeris to get back to work. "I
will have an answer for you by the time you are free of glass."
"Thank you." He is
not sure his father has ever done anything like this for him. But he is also
doing it for Christine, who he loves like a daughter.
Spock waits as the girls pick
glass from his palms, as his mother uses the regenerator they keep in the first
aid kit to close any large cuts.
"Here," Saavik says
as she hands Valeris a different type of tweezer. "This will work
better."
For once Valeris does not
argue. She just says, "Thank you," and gets back to work.
"She was dead. I felt
it. The emptiness where everything had been." He leans into his mother,
letting her stoke his hair, not caring that the girls are seeing him weak. That
his daughters see he is capable of loving another enough to be leveled. They
should know that. It is who he is—who Christine will be if something happens to
him.
His father comes out.
"She was briefly deceased but was immediately resuscitated. The mission
took heavy casualties. More than the medics on the evac ships can deal with all
at once so she has been placed in stasis. This is good, Spock. It means she is
not in need of most care. But it also means your connections with her will be
incomplete until she is revived."
"Sometimes they put the
very badly wounded in stasis for the experts at Starfleet Medical to work
on." Or those who may have been revived but will not survive, so they make
it home alive to see their families—but he will not say that to his family. It
is bad enough that he knows.
"She is not very badly
wounded. I have this from Cartwright himself. Give it time and she will be
returned to you."
"To all of us,"
Valeris says, and she has tears in her eyes. She wipes them and says,
"Sorry. Logic fails me."
"As it should. You care
for her, child. No crime in that." Sarek puts his hand on her shoulder
then inspects their work. "Fine extraction techniques."
Spock knows he is trying to get
them to a lighter place. To take the focus of everyone else off him as he finds
his composure again—and he appreciates it.
And it may be the first time
he has unreservedly loved his father.
##
He is walking to Starfleet
Medical to see Christine—it turned out the actual injury was somewhere between
what Spock feared and what Cartwright told his father. She has been recovering
for the last few days and will return home and to duty tomorrow.
He is glad she rates a
private room because when he first saw her, he called for privacy and then
hurried to her, not melding because he was not sure it was medically advised.
But touching her, getting from his telepathy that she was really all right.
"I was scared. It
reminded me of the Peregrine only without the Gorn."
"I did not feel your
fear. You have learned to shield admirably."
"Oh my God, Spock. Then
you had no warning?"
"I did not. It
was...well, it was a little bloody. I will let one of the girls tell you about
it. Only they will probably both vie for who will tell it best."
She laughed and pulled him
down for a gentle kiss. "Don't you have cadets to mentor?"
"They can wait."
And he sat there, holding her hand, no doubt qualifying for any human fantasy
of the sappy mate.
But she had died. And he felt
it to his core. Still feels it if he dwells on it.
He believes Christine might
like new energy with tonight's dinner so he cuts through the security wing. He
sees La'an sitting alone inside her office, working on something he probably
has no need to see so he coughs gently from well outside the room.
"Spock. Hang on."
As he suspected, she closes the work down, then motions him in. "Hi."
She looks down. "Shit, that was weak. Hi, Spock, come round to shoot the
shit with the enormous fucking traitor?" She looks down. "Okay I
realize that was not really any better."
He sits and holds up his hand
and she actually stops talking. Seems resigned, as if he can only be here for
unpleasant reasons.
"Christine is in Medical,
recovering from a fortunately temporary death. She has not reached out to you—I
believe out of loyalty to me. So, it seems, I must bring you to her. We are
having pasta mama in memory of those we have lost. Please come."
"Who else is
coming?" She looks down, as if she expects the small room to be filled
with Christine's many friends.
Or more accurately the many
people she is friendly with. She only lets a few truly in.
He recalls Valeris's words: all of the people Christine truly loves
are broken.
Even Nyota, who is on leave
or he would have included her in this too.
"Just the three of us. I
must confess you will be doing me a favor. I was quite—overwhelmed when she
died. It was jarring for the entire family since we were at the beach. We may be..."
"Hovering?"
"Yes. And she has used
the word sappy but I would debate that."
La'an smiles and it is a
lovely expression but behind it, he sees the loyalty Valeris spoke of. The
gratitude that she will be allowed back in when she also has so few she cares
about. "Never let it be said you're sappy. I will give her sufficient shit
to make you seem a welcome relief."
"Much appreciated."
They talk of inconsequential
things as they make their way to Medical, and when he opens the door, and the
smell of the food he has had delivered wafts over him, he is once again in
Chris's kitchen, sitting at the island, enjoying himself as he never had
before.
"Tell me he's
happy," La'an whispers. "I know you can't give details."
"I would have thought
you had access?"
She smiles. "I may have.
But the writer of the report left out if he's happy."
"He is. He is whole and
yet not."
Christine looks up from her
padd and a huge smile breaks over her face. "You brought me a
present?"
"I did."
"So what's this garbage
about you going and dying? Even for a moment, Chapel, that's not allowed."
La'an hugs her tentatively but Christine pulls her in for a much firmer
embrace.
He can hear her whisper,
"I missed you."
"I know," La'an
says. "Me too."
##
Spock is trying to get
Christine to sit down and let him and Valeris do the meal prep but she is
resisting. He is finally making headway when the chime rings and Valeris runs
to get it.
"Hello. And who are
you?" It is Jim.
Christine looks at Spock in alarm.
"Was this on the calendar?"
He shakes his head as he
hears Valeris say, "I'm Valeris. And you're Captain James T. Kirk, my
cousin's friend."
"Cousin. Ahhh." He follows her in and gives Spock an apologetic
smile. "I know this is weird. But...Matt was at the cabin the other day
and he told me what happened to Chris. And it threw me. It frankly pissed off
my current lady how much it threw me."
"Jim," Spock says,
unsure what is happening.
"Stand down, Spock. I'm
not here to challenge you for her. I'm here to say that I'm tired of avoiding
someone I wish was a friend instead of—this. I care about you, Chris. I want to
be here when you are and"—he looks around and sees Valeris in the kitchen
finishing dinner prep—"your new girl. I assume she's living with you two?
And has been for a while, right? But she goes, too, when I come?"
Valeris turns and says,
"I did not mind. I've been to Paris and Kiev." Then she turns back
around.
Jim smiles. "Another
daughter. Of sorts."
Spock nods.
"Can't imagine why you
wouldn't want to tell me about her when I've been so much fun to be around.
When I gave you shit about the first one and me with David..." He shakes
his head.
Valeris calls from the
kitchen, "We have enough for four if you wish to get to know me."
He laughs. "Speaks for
the house, huh? Forget dinner, Chris. Just tell me if we can try to be
something close to friends. I miss you in my life."
She walks to him and pulls
him into a hug.
He buries his face in her
neck and murmurs, "I can't believe you died and I'm not the kind of friend
you call to tell that to." He looks over at Spock. "Or you. You must
have been going through hell."
"I was."
Christine lets him go.
"Stay for dinner, Jim. Valeris of the house of Sarek has invited you and
you do not wish to insult her."
Christine so effortlessly
includes Valeris, tries to make her forget she can't call her own grandfather
by the term. He loves her for it.
"Fine." He slips
his coat off and Spock goes to hang it up. "You're sure?" he murmurs
as he follows him to the closet, the way he might have on a mission.
"I am, Jim. My family is
incomplete without you."
His smile is wide, his eyes
gleaming. "Antonia is so pissed at me right now. I didn't give a shit. I
just had to come."
"Do you need a guest
room?"
"No, Matt's putting me
up at his ritzy place out on the water. Wants me to buy something there so I
have a place in the city, can bring her with me more. Not that she wants to
come." He sighs. "No. Not about me. Or at least not me bitching,
which may be all there is to me right now."
"I do not believe that
is true."
"It is time to
eat," Valeris says softly, and Spock wonders how much she overheard. He
has learned she is always listening. No doubt a way to survive and prosper when
she was growing up.
Jim sits in the chair she
indicates and laughs as she pretends to be the maître d'. "I hope you
don't expect a tip."
"Only about how to
succeed at Starfleet Academy."
Spock and Christine both look
up. This is a career path they were not aware she was going to take.
"Academy bound, huh?
Wouldn't your cousin be a better mentor? He does work there."
"I believe you might
provide suggestions he, as a Vulcan, would not."
"Be coached by a living
legend? People might think you're a cheater like I am."
"Then we will not tell
them. Just as we will not tell them you're a member of our family now or they
might think it is nepotism that will make me finish first in my class."
Spock stares at her. When did
she decide all this? And how astoundingly is she working his friend?
"First in your class? A
Vulcan's never done that."
"Yet." She lifts an
eyebrow.
He bursts out laughing.
"I love her."
"That must be a
secret." She puts a finger to her lips, allowing her lips to lift just the
slightest bit. Spock thinks it is a masterful expression—just enough to set a
human at ease, something he has not always done.
"Mum's the word, kiddo.
If we ever meet in public, it's for the first time."
"Excellent." She
hurries off to get whatever she pulled together to feed four instead of three.
Kirk looks at the two of
them. "She's...different for a Vulcan."
"Indeed. Her parents
were V'Tosh Katur. She
rejected that life. She is learning the ways of logic from us and tutors."
"Interesting. I think
she'll do it. Finish first, I mean."
"Now that I know she
wants to, I think she will too."
"Yeah, this is kind of
news to us." Christine just shakes her head. "Life is never dull with
her here."
"I can see that. You're
a mom twice over."
"I guess I am. Without
the annoying pregnancy part." She smiles at him, a bright smile that Spock
likes to see. It feels right to have Jim back like this, part of them. And open
to Valeris—perhaps she can fill a void for him that Saavik never had the
chance—or desire—to.
Because like the rest of
Christine's band, he too had his childhood hardships.
He too is in some ways
broken.