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.

We'll Meet Again

by Djinn

 

Part 2:

 

Spock put the food into the stasis containers as T'Pring took the dishes to the refresher. He felt utterly off balance. The dinner had been awkward—he should have listened to Christine.

 

But how would he have found a way to explain that to T'Pring?

 

And Kirk had been...he had been a mitigating presence. So gentle with T'Pring, except when he wasn't. He stood up to Spock's woman better than Spock did.

 

"You are pensive," T'Pring said softly, sitting down on one of the chairs, looking as effortlessly elegant as she ever did.

 

Christine had looked different. Not as...welcoming. Not just her manner but also how she had looked.

 

"Will you not talk to me, Spock? Have I not cleared the air enough for you to tell me what is going on with the woman who sat across from you at dinner?"

 

The quartermaster had asked what configuration he wanted. He had opted for a table that would be big enough to allow T'Pring and him to sit together on one side, with Kirk and Christine on the other. Would a smaller one, where they made up a square have been more suitable? Would it have made it less awkward when his fiancée was intent on guiding the conversation to ever more uncomfortable places. "Have you really been in a threesome?"

 

"Yes. But I don't plan to be in one with Christine, if that is what you are asking."

 

He turned in surprise. "It is not. I was just...surprised."

 

"You may not know me as well as you think." The disapproval was rife in her tone.

 

"Indeed, for you hid my brother's presence at Ankeshtan K'Til from me."

 

"A counterattack rather than discussing what I wish to. How very Vulcan of you. You are half human, Spock. You could lie if you wanted to. Why not try that—it may be less obvious?"

 

"I have no wish to lie to you."

 

"Then you admit you were with Christine at some point. Was it that night, of the kiss, after I left with Sybok?"

 

He sighed, then immediately regretted doing it in front of her. It was such a human sound. "No."

 

"No, not that night."

 

"No, I am not admitting I was with Christine at some point." Was that a lie? It felt like it skirted the line.

 

Could he lie? He had as a child. But only a few times. The penalty for a lie had been immense. The last time he did it, his father had taken him to their summer house without his mother as buffer and then behaved as if Spock did not exist for over a week. It had been unnerving.

 

No, it had been terrifying. To feel as if he would never be seen by his father again. So he had conformed and for what? Now he and his father both acted as if the other did not exist.

 

"May I speak frankly, T'Pring?"

 

"Spock, that is what I am asking you to do."

 

"I was unsure of my path. As you said tonight. You know me well." He crouched in front of her and took her hand.

 

Her eyebrow rose precipitously. "You would give me this. Skin to skin—to know if you are lying? I expected you to talk to me from the other room. Perhaps over the comm system."

 

He only squeezed her hand and shook his head. "I wish to communicate not just converse."

 

"How refreshing." She looked down. "Your hands are shaking."

 

"I feel deeply. I have for some time. A mission—after the kiss. The Gorn. Rage that had to be let out to fight them. Loss, death, horror." He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to drown the memories out.

 

"I feel it. I regret you experienced that. You would not if you were on Vulcan."

 

"I know this, T'Pring. But this is my place."

 

"And I can feel you believe that too." She squeezed his hands gently. "All right. Let us communicate. Do you love her?"

 

"I do."

 

"Were you intimate with her?"

 

"I was. But it was unplanned. A fault of anger and lust."

 

"And regard."

 

He looked down. "Yes, and of regard."

 

"You are here on this ship and she is also here. How will I know this will not occur again."

 

"Because she will not unless I choose her. And I will not choose her." He met her eyes. "You are my path."

 

"Why though?"

 

"Because it is logical." He could barely get the words out, his voice sounded strangled. "Is that not what you value?"

 

"Spock, would I have chosen you if an emotional attachment was not also desired?" She sighed—a sound he had never heard from her. "I will put it in human terms so there is no misunderstanding between us. I want your love. If I only have logical regard, there are other men—men who would stay on Vulcan—who would give me that. Moreover, there are men who do feel strongly for me. Who want me for reasons that have little to do with logic."

 

"Who are these men?"

 

"You will find out, if you cannot love me." She let go of his hands. "And I feel it—every time you touch me—that you do not."

 

"You are Vulcan. Are you sure you know what it would feel like?"

 

"Yes, because I just felt it when you answered if you loved Christine."

 

He closed his eyes. "If I have hurt you, I regret that deeply."

 

"I do not reject pain, Spock. If one seeks an emotional connection, pain is part of that. But what I will not tolerate is pain without love. I will not be abandoned. I will not be humiliated." She reached for him and settled her hand against his cheek. "Can you love me, Spock?"

 

"I believe so. In time."

 

She studied him for a long time as they stayed frozen in place. "I sense no deception on your part. You wish to try to make this work, then?"

 

"I do. You are my path. Always and forever." He pulled her to him, rolling her under him on the floor, nuzzling her neck. "You will be my love."

 

"I will trust you for now." She pushed him away. "But I do not wish to be intimate. Chris arranged guest quarters for me."

 

Spock sat up and stared at her. "He told you something?"

 

"He told me nothing. He did not betray you. But when he said he would assign me guest quarters in case I needed some private time during my visit, I knew something was amiss. Do you think I am blind? Do you think I did not feel the passion of your kiss with Christine to the very depths of me? Do you think I was not shaken?"

 

He swallowed visibly.

 

"Perhaps we could meet for breakfast here?" Her voice was gentle but firm. "Once we have both had time to think. To evaluate what has been said away from each other."

 

"I will not change my mind."

 

"It is good that you think so. I, however, might." She stood and left.

 

Spock wanted to kick the table, blocking his way to the bedroom, to bits. He wanted to comm Chris and ask him how he could do that to him—even if he knew it was because his friend valued both of them, wanted them to be...happy.

 

And he wanted to go to Kirk's quarters and take Christine back. Even if she might no longer wish to be with him—he had wanted to strike the man for kissing her.

 

And for the easy way he had related to T'Pring.

 

Was nothing Spock's?

 

He knelt in the meditation pose but did not try to enter even the most basic level, settling instead for rocking back and forth, trying to contain the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

 

##

 

Chapel felt shaky walking with Jim back to his quarters. As she slowed the closer they got to his door, he asked, "You okay?"

 

"You felt bad for her."

 

"Yeah, because she's hurting." He ushered her into his quarters and then pulled her close.

 

She didn't want to be close and slipped away from him. "How can you tell?"

 

"Are you being serious? Or bratty?"

 

"Bratty?"

 

"He cheated on her. With you. And neither of you denied it, which yay, by the way, for not lying. Of course, she's hurting. She's the injured party." He walked over to his bar cart and said, "Rye?"

 

"Yeah. Thanks. Aren't you the injured party too?"

 

"Nope. You and I were just getting to know each other, and I knew about him—how you felt about him," he said as he fixed their drinks. "The odds were higher that you two were going to fuck than not." He held out her drink, clearly wanting her to cross the room to him.

 

She didn't want to so she stood where she was, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why? Why were they higher?"

 

"Because you needed to get him out of your system. I don't think, for the record, that you'll ever be completely out of his system. And that's why I feel for T'Pring. Imagine being a touch telepath and knowing the person you're with may not have the right kind of feelings for you." He shook his head and set her drink back on the cart then took his to his couch.

 

She hadn't thought about it that way. Shit, now she felt even worse. "Fuck you, Jim."

 

"Yeah, I know. The truth bites." He patted the couch. "You want to stop pouting over what has happened and come on over here to be with what is happening?"

 

"Sometimes you're too clever with your words." She walked to the bar cart and downed her rye. Ice crashed against her lips.

 

"Very mature, Chris."

 

She whirled on him, trying to figure out what his expression meant, what his smile meant, why he was waiting for her to come to him? "Do you hate me or something?"

 

"No, you big idiot, I love you." He grinned but it was a cautious smile. "I just don't know if you care at the moment. Where are you at, Chapel? My quarters or wherever the dirty deed happened?"

 

It was actually a good question. Where was she? Halfway between them? Regretting an act—remembering it too, all the fucking time. She poured another drink and sipped it very slowly. "It was the lab."

 

"Didn't need to know that." He drained his drink and started to get up.

 

She walked over and said, "I'll get it." She poured his scotch, then walked back to him with both their drinks and sat down next to him once she'd put them on the table. "You love me?"

 

"Oh, you caught that part? Jesus, Chris." He laughed but again it wasn't a happy sound.

 

"I like who I am with you, Jim." Which was exactly what Spock meant about T'Pring, wasn't it? The road was a better one to walk with this person than that person. So cold. She didn't mean it that way. She could be happy with Spock but it was never going to happen. He had the choice, here when it came to her or T'Pring. But she had the choice to walk away, to go to this man, who apparently was not going to take her shit. She kind of loved that, even if it was going to piss her off when it happened.

 

She cuddled against him, and he put his arm around her immediately and pulled her closer. "I think I kind of hate her, Jim."

 

"I think you hate yourself but it's easier to hate her."

 

"Cognitive dissonance. The cause of so much human strife."

 

"Yes. Exactly." He stroked her hair. "She seems nice, to be honest. For a Vulcan, to be that open, to welcome us that way. I know she had an ulterior motive, but she was a good hostess."

 

"You just want to swing with her."

 

He started to laugh. "I think he might be in over his head." Then he whispered in her ear, "Would you, if they both wanted to?"

 

"No."

 

"I bet her lips are really soft."

 

"Shut up, Jim." But she was starting to laugh.

 

"We'll make sure there are no weapons, given your history."

 

"Shut up, Jim." She turned to him and kissed him, and felt him gently unsnapping her top. As he pushed it off her, she murmured, "I love you too."

 

"You don't have to say that."

 

"I don't say that. Ever. Okay fine, once, to the creep. And to Spock. And now to you. I love you."

 

His smile this time was gorgeous.

 

He pulled her on top of him and reached around to undo her bra so he could push it up and play, with his hands, with his lips, with his tongue and just the right amount of teeth as she threw her head back and murmured, "God bless Ruth."

 

He pulled away from her breasts for a moment. "I'd totally say yes if they both asked. And if Spock didn't work for me." Then he went back to what he'd been doing.

 

"Oh, fuck it, so would I."

 

##

 

Spock heard the chime sound and said, "Come." He had not slept and was still on the floor, wedged between the table he had not yet called the quartermaster to come get and the couch. His robe was wrinkled. He was thirsty.

 

T'Pring walked in. She looked...untroubled. Until she took in his state. "Have you been there this entire time?"

 

He nodded. "I have been wondering if it is time to undergo the Kolinahr."

 

"I have never pushed you toward that."

 

"I know. I ask myself why, now. Do you consider me incapable of success?"

 

She kneeled on the floor, facing him. "No, Spock. I did not push because I did not wish for you to change. To lose what makes you, you."

 

"But you help those who have lost their way."

 

She took his face in her hands, the same way Christine had done in the corridor, after the memorial. "You have not lost your way. You are exploring your humanity, which, if you remember back, I said you would be inclined to do. Did I not offer to explore it with you?"

 

"By reading sex books."

 

"Admittedly not an approach that worked with you. But I am skilled, Spock, at tailoring the therapy for the patient."

 

"Patient—so I am lost."

 

"No, but you do need my help." She pushed her fingers into the meld spots and said, "Let me in."

 

He never had. Not really. It was probably why their katras had switched places rather than merged. Because he did not want her to see who he really was.

 

But now he did. Now he let her in. Dropped all the barriers. Showed her all the pain. His father's disapproval first. The distance. The coldness—but not for Michael. Full human had been fine apparently, half was another story.

 

"My parents value me, Spock, so I have no reference for this pain, but I do not understand Sarek's attitude toward you. He married a human; it would be illogical to expect you to be anything but what you are. I honor your pain in this. It is valid."

 

Then the loss of Sybok only to find out he was not lost, of all that had happened to him on and off this ship, even showing her the things she should not know about the loss of Michael and Discovery but unwilling to hide any part of himself from her.

 

"I have no siblings so I cannot know your pain, but it is valid. I honor it. The people who treated you in such a manner when you needed help were abhorrent. Your pain is valid. I honor it."

 

Number one being taken. Hemmer dying.

 

"I honor those losses."

 

He showed her a snippet of what Chris had told him and he felt her fingers spasm against his face, then a burst of raw pain from her and a strangled, "No."

 

"We share that pain," he said, his voice gravelly, as if he had not spoken in years.

 

"Yes." She hovered for a long time over that moment, her pain radiating out. Then she whispered, "I need to see you and Christine. I am sorry to ask. But I need to understand how it was, not just that it was."

 

"Explore. Wherever. Whenever. Until you have what you need." He closed his eyes and relaxed against her probing mind, memories coming up of teasing and being teased by Christine, of her help with the body switch, of how she hugged him when he hurt, of the kiss.

 

And of the betrayal.

 

He expected her to pull away but she stayed close, withdrawing from the memories but not him. "It was not planned."

 

"As I said."

 

"She gave you good advice regarding me. Yet she loved you."

 

"It is puzzling."

 

She finally eased away, moving her fingers to touch his lips. "Thank you for sharing that way. To let me in so fully."

 

He enjoyed her touch for a moment, then asked the question he had always been too afraid to let anyone know haunted him, especially not her. "Am I broken, T'Pring?"

 

"You are not. You are in pain from trauma both old and new. But you have not given in to it. You make a difference. You protect and nurture and teach. You are brave, Spock. You travel a path that is not completely natural with the most grace you can find. I admire you."

 

He realized he was shaking. "You do?"

 

"I do." She kissed him, tenderly, without the barrier of hesitation he'd felt from her before—a barrier that was probably put up by him and not her.

 

For the first time he imagined what she might be like as a mother to his children. Not that she would be a mother, but how she would be.

 

She would be wonderful. They would thrive in her logic.

 

And her love.

 

##

 

Kirk was working on reports at his bridge station when he got a text comm from Spock. "If you concur, I will be delayed reporting to duty."

 

He was pretty sure Spock was never delayed. He was also pretty sure if he was now, it was because of T'Pring. But because they were fighting? Or because they'd made up? He hoped for both their sakes it was the latter.

 

He turned to look over at Buchanan, who seemed like she wasn't anywhere near finished with the project she was running at the science station. "Buchanan, you want another hour?"

 

"Yes, I do, sir," she said without even looking up. 'Two would be better."

 

He laughed. "Two it is." He keyed in, "Buchanan working on project. Will 2 hours work for you?"

 

"Yes."

 

A thank you might have been nice but whatever—Vulcans. Kirk went back to his reports.

 

A moment later another text popped up. "And thank you."

 

He laughed to himself and got up to stretch his legs, looking over at Pike, who just nodded and grinned, then went back to the padd he was reading. No doubt legal things to get the woman who would kick Kirk off this bridge back on board.

 

At least for alpha shift. He wasn't sure how he felt about getting beta shift or gamma. Hard to make a relationship work with a person on alpha. Then again, maybe Chris would shift to wherever he ended up.

 

No, he had to stop. It would take months if not years to get Number One out. He should not be making plans for Chris at all, let alone this early.

 

He walked around, observing other officers, seeing how they did or didn't do things differently than the officers on the Farragut, when he heard the lift open and a voice he didn't recognize ask, "Miss me, Captain? Chief?"

 

He turned to see Lieutenant La'an Noonien-Singh standing next to Pike and looking at the seat he'd just vacated.

 

She'd been out of comms range on a personal mission. She'd no doubt expected Chin-Reilly to be in that chair when her mission was over. Which it apparently was?

 

Why hadn't he been informed she was back? Then again Pike looked surprised too.

 

"How did you get aboard?" Kirk asked her, moving forward, toward her, so she had to focus on him.

 

"I broke in with dynamite and a sledgehammer." She looked at him like he was last week's dirty dishes.

 

"Crew are normally announced when they report back."

 

"Oh, Kyle's terrified of her. Most of the crew are." Pike grinned at her so fondly it was clear he wasn't terrified of her. "La'an, this is Jim Kirk. Our new first officer."

 

"Where. Is. Una?"

 

Kirk admired how much threat she loaded into every word.

 

He also decided to let Pike explain the situation to her.

 

"They arrested her. For augmentation. I needed a first officer and Jim's an—"

 

"Oh, fuck that." And she turned around and stomped to the lift, which seemed to have waited for her—out of fear?—and then she was gone.

 

"Where, exactly, is she going?"

 

"Probably down to your girlfriend, Jim. They're tight. And boy is it going to be awkward when she finds out Christine is dating the enemy. Her potential words, not mine." He looked back at his padd, then looked up again. "Also, for what it's worth, I did not know she was coming back. La'an sort of..."

 

"Does her own thing?"

 

"A lot of the time, yeah. But she's an excellent officer, she does know the regs and follows them, and you'll want her at your back during a firefight."

 

Kirk glanced as surreptitiously as he could around the bridge. Other than Pike and maybe Nyota, no one looked particularly thrilled to have La'an back. Ortegas met his eyes and actually rolled hers.

 

He would get the scoop from her later.

 

"On the bridge though... if it weren't against regs to knife a fellow officer in the back, you might want to watch yours here." Pike grinned at him and Kirk realized this was another side to him, a slightly trouble-making side.

 

The side that let his brother insult Spock in a way that made it an insult to his species, and did not reprimand him? He'd checked the file. There was nothing but good reports on Sam.

 

He'd have to ask Sam if he'd gotten a verbal warning. If he could even get that out of him without his brother claiming the "Pulling rank and position" foul card.

 

Which he did a lot. Kirk was never going to manage relatives again. No matter how nice it was to know his brother was just a few decks down.

 

"Oh, see, here is her request to report for duty. Submitted after she reported." Pike laughed and it was with genuine amusement. "Man, I missed her."

 

Kirk glanced at Ortegas again. She made the subtle signal for "I don't get it."

 

Yeah, from what he'd seen so far, neither did he.

 

##

 

Sickbay was free of patients, so Chapel was finetuning some of the disguise formulas for Spock. He was still proving the most problematic of the crew, probably because of his hybrid nature.

 

She heard a familiar stomp-step entering sickbay and turned with a huge smile on her face to find La'an coming toward her. "Hey, bitch."

 

"Hey, snob." La'an hurried to her and pulled her in for a hug. "I missed you."

 

"Same." Only maybe not that much lately, what with Jim, and the oh so fun times with Spock.

 

"I was just on the bridge. We have two Kirks now?"

 

"I know the first one's a loser, but the second one isn't." She tried to bite back the smile at just how much he was not a loser and knew she failed.

 

"Oh, my God. Have you gone and fallen in love with this idiot?"

 

"Also he's not an idiot." She sighed as La'an pushed her away and started pacing.

 

M'Benga came out of the office and said, "I thought I heard your voice. Welcome back, little leopard." He held open his arms and La'an rushed into them. "Did you get Oriana home safe?"

 

"I did."

 

"Do you feel as if you rewrote part of your past by doing that?" His voice was incredibly gentle—Chapel tried, and failed, to emulate him in that sometimes.

 

"I can't rewrite my past. But I don't have to let it completely define me."

 

"Good answer." He let her go and looked at Chapel. "So, shall we have coffee in my office and fill her in?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"I've already found out she's sleeping with the enemy."

 

"He's not the enemy," Chapel said, but was ignored by both of them.

 

"Kirk is not the issue here. We would have had a new person in that chair no matter what. Una has been arrested. She is not allowed out of holding. Or visitors—I know because I tried."

 

Chapel shot him a look he ignored. Why hadn't he told her?

 

"Christine is now sulking," he said with a wry grin. "You do not even like Una, my dear one. Why would I burden you with facts you do not need?"

 

"I thought you were warming up to her?" La'an looked at her with an almost angry expression. Almost—as if she just didn't think there was time to spare. "It doesn't matter. How are we going to get her out."

 

M'Benga looked at Chapel.

 

"With science. With knowing how the JAG—or at least one of them—will approach this case. With character witnesses." She touched La'an's arm gently. "We are not, not, not going to break her out."

 

"But we could."

 

"I am not so sure of that," M'Benga said in the same voice he used when Chapel wanted to do something he characterized as "mad scientist. "And our careers would be over if we did. Which might be fine if we succeeded in getting her out. But if we failed, then who would help her?"

 

"You spent far too much time on Vulcan. You sound like Spock." La'an turned to Chapel. "He wasn't on the bridge either. Did they take him too for something?"

 

"No." Spock wasn't on the bridge? Was it because he and T'Pring had broken up or because they hadn't?

 

New footsteps sounded in sickbay and she got up to help whoever needed it but it was Jim, smiling at her in the way that said he was being uber strategic. "Hi, honey."

 

"Hi." She followed him into M'Benga's office.

 

He didn't sit, just stood near the desk and stared down at La'an. "I feel as if we got off on the wrong foot."

 

"There is no right foot where Una is concerned." Her voice was less confrontational than Chapel expected. Maybe she respected Jim coming down here to deal with this expeditiously?

 

La'an ran on her own set of rules and honor.

 

"For what it's worth, I don't feel she's justly charged. That said, this was going to be a vacancy no matter what. They took her and they're not letting her go. So if you want to be mad, don't be mad at me. Turn the anger into helping to get her out."

 

La'an got up and walked to him, well past the point of courtesy, into his personal space. "You don't tell me what to do."

 

"Actually, I do. I'm the first officer. You're head of security. The hierarchy is clear." She started to talk, but he took a step toward her, nearly into her, and she shut up and backed up a step in seeming reaction. "Moreover, I can be a friend to you, an ally. Or you can make me an enemy right now. Which seems really stupid, but it's your call. Pike seems to think the world of you, but I have to ask myself: just how smart are you really?" He took another step toward her.

 

She took another step back.

 

Chapel watched, fascinated at the non-verbals going on. Jim had told her he loved dogs. That he was really good with them. That it wasn't what you said to a dog but how, and what energy you brought. That half the battle was claiming space in a calm way, a way that would make the animal cede on its own, not be cowed into it.

 

That would make the animal—or La'an—recognize who was boss.

 

"I don't need more enemies." La'an smiled in a way Chapel couldn't read and then stepped right back into him, the way he'd been doing to her. "And if you think you can cow me with your not-so-subtle alpha maneuvers, just remind yourself of this: I survived the Gorn." She glanced at Chapel. "Lunch?"

 

"Sure."

 

"I need to make some calls. Find out what's really going on in security." And she pushed past Jim, not bumping him but only just, and left.

 

M'Benga started to laugh. "Commander, you have my utmost respect."

 

Jim sat down and said, "She is vaguely terrifying." Then he looked up at her. "Pike said you two were tight. How tight?"

 

"We're friends."

 

"The grapevine had them pegged as lovers," M'Benga said as he got up and refilled his coffee cup. "The grapevine is, however, incapable of seeing friendship for what it is."

 

She could tell Jim wanted to ask if this was the same grapevine that had her and Spock together, but he didn't. He just shook his head and said, "I should have found a less problematic woman to fall for."

 

"Oh, I don't know. Christine is amazing." M'Benga winked at her. "Brilliant, funny, occasionally quite brave. I'm trying to get her to join Starfleet." He shooed them out. "I'm sure you have better places to be than in here. And even if you don't, please go. I have monthly reports and the new first officer will not be amused if they are late." He winked at Jim.

 

"Yeah, I hear he's a real stickler for that." Jim's smile was one of her favorites.

 

She pulled him out and to her office, closed the door, and pushed him up against the wall. "That was impressive. Until the end. I really thought you'd gotten to her."

 

"I did. She backed up. Twice. And that pissed her off so, so much, which is why she reclaimed her space." He was laughing. "How the hell did you two become friends?"

 

"I went to talk to her after a mission. Wanted to make sure the disguise—because she was one of the first to try it—hadn't left any lasting effects." She also had wanted to find out why La'an hadn't wanted sedation and how they could find a compromise for that in the future. "We just...hit it off."

 

"Are you more than friends?"

 

"I don't think so. It's hard to tell with her. We're very tactile."

 

"You just couldn't come without complications, could you?"

 

She shrugged in her best "What can I tell you?" way.

 

"Kiss me before I go up to the bridge."

 

"Say please."

 

He laughed and spun her around so she was against the wall, He was strong and she loved it, but was he going to go all he-man on her? "Please, please, please kiss me before I go up to the bridge?"

 

What an interesting compromise. Alpha but not taking without permission. "I love you."

 

"I love you too. I'd love you more if you'd fucking kiss me." He was laughing as he said it and she pulled him to her and started to kiss him but she was laughing too.

 

It was hard to kiss when you were laughing.

 

They did it anyway.

 

##

 

Spock and T'Pring lay in bed, kissing softly, passion spent, and a peace he was not sure he had ever felt with her descending.

 

"I found it interesting you sent your request for delayed duty to Kirk and not to Chris." Her eyes were bright, almost teasing.

 

"I would have sent it to Number One. If I had ever needed delayed duty before." He kissed her, playfully—they had never been playful with each other before. Not this way. "But it was also logical. Kirk knew why I might need it."

 

"I think Chris also would know."

 

"But perhaps I did not wish to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had been right to warn you of a problem in our relationship."

 

"Spock, you are not presently at your station on the bridge. He knows."

 

"Logical. But still, that satisfaction was derived second hand."

 

"Very well. Be spiteful if you must. Just do not take it out on him in any other way or I will be vexed with you."

 

"I would not wish that. Not now. With this new accord between us."

 

"Agreed."

 

He glanced at the chrono; they had time to discuss something they had never really delved into, except in the abstract. "Query."

 

She actually smiled. Not that a human would notice the difference, but he did. "Yes...?"

 

"How many children would you like to have?"

 

The smile faded.

 

He felt off balance—had he misread her? "Do you not want children? In the past, you indicated a desire for a family."

 

"Yes, Spock. A family. Like the one I had. With two partners raising the children." She pulled away slightly. "If you were to insist on this path, on being on a ship, then I would maintain the contraceptive regimen I am on."

 

"So we would have no children if I remain in Starfleet?"

 

"That is not what I said. We would have no children if the children and I are one place, and you are another." She touched his cheek and he felt her determination pulsing through him in the slight connection of skin on skin. "There are many assignments that are on star bases or planet bound, are there not?"

 

"Those assignments are the exception, not the norm."

 

"Then we will be the exception, not the norm for Vulcan couples. We will not have children. I will not raise them alone." She still had not pulled away. "I saw what your childhood was like—Sarek was there but not. I believe you would be an exemplary father. But how would the children know you if you are forever gone?"

 

"T'Pring, this is who I am."

 

"But will it be who you are forever?"

 

"You told me you have not pushed the Kolinahr because you wished me to be me. This is also who I am. But who I am—I fear—may only be wanted when it benefits you."

 

"That is unfair. How is my wishing to share my life with you in actual view of you not consistent with my not wanting you to shut off your emotions? They are the same desire. To have a loving family—a loving husband. To be loved." She pulled her fingers from his cheek. "I am not saying you need to leave the ship now. I am not ready yet for children, nor are you, and we have a great deal of time. But eventually, we must be together. Or we must not have a family."

 

Her voice was gentle, her eyes soft, but there was iron in her words. This was non negotiable.

 

He looked away.

 

"Do you wish to reconsider our betrothal?" Her voice was nearly a whisper.

 

"No. But I need to give my future path considerable thought. I need to weigh the desire for a family with my desire to serve on a ship." He studied her. "But you would still marry me, knowing that children might not be in our future?"

 

"I would. But again, not without your love. And love over distance can be difficult to manage."

 

He frowned. "Does one manage love or does one simply feel it?"

 

"Shall I put it into scientific terms? The amount of effort needed on your part to assure me that we are indeed united compared to the distance between us is directly proportional."

 

"There are Vulcan science ships. Were I on one, they are no different than a Starfleet vessel. They do not allow spouses or families."

 

"That is a moot point, Spock. For I know you, and you would never consider serving on a Vulcan science vessel."

 

"This is true." He reached for her, playing with her hair. "I must strive for promotion with more effort than I have. I must become essential in ways others are not."

 

She cocked her head, clearly unsure of his logic.

 

"Admirals do not serve on ships so I must rise through the ranks and become one. And experts of esoteric but critical subjects chart their own path. Including where they serve and who is with them when they do it."

 

"I believe you may be oversimplifying this. But I deeply appreciate that you wish to try to find a workable solution to this problem."

 

"Would you regret not having children?"

 

She met his eyes and nodded.

 

"As would I."

 

##

 

Kirk held back as the rest of the bridge crew briefed their shift replacements and filed out. He saw Spock look back at him—Chris had already told him she and he would be working on Pike's special project tonight—and he smiled at him in a carefree way he only kind of felt since Spock had not shared anything when Kirk had asked, "Productive morning?" when he finally reported for duty.

 

Would it have killed him to just nod or something?

 

He realized Ortegas was taking her time too and waited for her at the lift once everyone from alpha was gone except them.

 

"You have the look of a man in need of some serious scoop on the oh-so-pleasant lieutenant." She grinned in her easy way; she'd been the most welcoming to him from the moment he'd show up—other than Chris—and he really enjoyed her and her sense of humor.

 

"I do. Want to grab a drink?"

 

"Christine going to be joining us? Because she will seriously put a damper on me telling you what I really think of La'an."

 

"She will not be. She and Spock are working on a special project."

 

"Yeah, everyone thinks I don't know what that project is." She followed him onto the lift. "And no, no drink. I want to see the Arboretum."

 

"The what?"

 

"Christine told me about you taking her there. You earned big, big, big points, by the way."

 

He told the lift where to go and asked, "From her or you?"

 

"Both of us, Jim. So original."

 

"Okay but did she say it was called that?"

 

"No she called it Horticulture and Hydroponics and how freakin' dull is that, huh? If it's as amazing as she said, it needs a name similarly awesome. One that inspires envy in others that they do not get to go in at will."

 

"How many people has she told?"

 

"Just me. She waited until Ny was gone because she doesn't always think before she speaks. And I plan to tell no one. But, I do plan to think of it always as the Arboretum."

 

He laughed and led her off the lift. "Okay then. I hope it lives up the hype."

 

They walked in and, if anything, it looked even lusher than the time he brought Chris.

 

"Holy shit. This is unreal." She began to wander down the aisles, stopping to smell almost every flower. "You know it's super stupid to let Christine work with Spock like that, right? I mean if you want to keep her."

 

"I trust her."

 

"I wouldn't, if she was mine."

 

Shit, another rival? "Do you wish she were, Erica?"

 

"Honestly, no. I mean she's hot as shit, but I like my lovers a little less complicated. But she's a great friend."

 

He joined her in front of a tangle of honeysuckle.

 

She touched it gently. "Someone important to me loved this. When they died, life stopped for a while."

 

"I'm sorry." He watched her but she wasn't crying. "Do you really think I can't trust Christine?"

 

She turned to look at him. "I'm not trying to scare you off her because I really like her with you. But until those two do it and get it out of their system..." Something in his face must have changed because she said, "Oh, oh shit, no they didn't."

 

"I did not say they did."

 

"Your face said they did. Your face practically screamed they did." She looked seriously sad for him. "So, when?"

 

"I did not say they did it."

 

"Before you or after?"

 

"Erica, no." He moved away. "You're supposed to tell me about La'an. And do not say one word to Christine about the other thing."

 

"What other thing? Oh you mean that she and Spock totally boinked and you probably really need to talk about it but won't?"

 

"Yes, that thing." He turned to look at her. "It wasn't before me or after, okay?"

 

She had a wonderful "Going to solve this riddle" expression on her face, and he laughed softly. "Very cryptic—I don't get it. But I might. Let me tell you about La'an while my brain processes what you just said." She kept exploring the flowers, so he followed her while she talked. "First off, La'an showed up recently. So it's not like she's been on the ship forever, even though she acts like it. Lied as far as I can tell about how close she was to Number One to get on for a temporary mission and then Pike offered her a permanent position. She's...tough, I guess is the word. But psycho also comes to mind."

 

"Have you spent any downtime with her?"

 

"Nope. She hangs out with Number One, the people in security, in the gym beating the hell out of something, or with your girl. Which by the way, no one gets that relationship except those two."

 

"So I gathered."

 

"I'd be worried about them too. Spock and La'an—watch them like hawks around Christine."

 

"Which means I don't trust Christine."

 

"No, it means you don't trust them. And Christine is...impulsive and she always wants to help. She's trusting that way, in how nurturing can be misinterpreted. There are a lot of her patients with wicked crushes and she's oblivious."

 

"I'll keep that in mind. Number One seems to be beloved."

 

Erica's face changed. "Roses. Finally." She made way too much of a show for her to really be that excited about the roses.

 

"You don't like her, huh?"

 

"It's not that. She's smart and capable. Obviously strong—way stronger than we knew. But..." She shook her head and walked to a yellow rose.

 

"But...?"

 

"She's a personality free zone as far as I can tell." She sighs. "Do you know what her nickname is?"

 

He shook his head.

 

"Where fun goes to die."

 

"Yeee-ouch."

 

"Yeah."

 

"Do you want her back?" When she didn't answer, he said gently, "I will never tell what you said."

 

She turned. "No. I really am enjoying you. I want you to stay. She was just...she was just there."

 

"I served with someone like that. I knew they were smart. I knew they were good at their job. But the idea of spending personal time with them gave me hives."

 

"Yeah. The captain likes her, though. They go way back."

 

"How much does he like her?"

 

She shrugged and it seemed a real gesture. "I've never been sure. But it seems like a lot." She knelt down in front of a cinnamon brown and yellow rose. "This was their favorite rose. I never knew the name." She looked at the label. "Leonidas."

 

"It's beautiful."

 

"Yeah, so were they. The other thing you need to know about La'an is despite all I've said, she saved us from the Gorn. I don't even know how she's sane after that. But she is."

 

"You said she was a psycho."

 

"I know. That's not accurate, though. Driven, maybe? Not caring about social norms, for sure." She looked up at him. "But you've got to think that there's a scared little girl in there somewhere. When she took time off to help that poor kid, it changed some of my opinion of her. Doing that didn't help her career, only someone else."

 

"And maybe herself in the process." He walked over to the roses that haunted him. Red and yellow, called Confetti. Such a happy name for such horrible memories. "You know of Tarsus IV—what happened there?"

 

"Yeah, of course. Half the population killed."

 

"I was there. I was thirteen. Finally noticing girls. They were noticing me back—I sort of filled out. Marela was my next-door neighbor. So sweet. She loved these roses. Grew them in her back yard. I had the biggest crush on her—and I found out she had one back." He closed his eyes. "She couldn't metabolize vitamin D. Was always exhausted, prone to getting sick. Kodos took the least "fit" and she was one of them." He wanted to crush the rose petals, dig his hand into the thorns. "There was nothing unfit about her spirit, her soul. If I thought I could make that boy I was feel better, love again sooner, trust again more fully—by helping someone else—I'd do it."

 

"So you understand La'an. On a cellular level."

 

"And you. Roses equal loss to me. I never give them as gifts unless they're someone's favorite flower."

 

"Me neither. Or honeysuckle." She stood and put her hand on his shoulder. "You know as nice as the Arboretum is, I think I could really use a drink."

 

"God, me too."

 

"And I figured it out. Not before you, not after you. When you first got here, and you and Christine were hanging out, but you weren't 'with her' with her."

 

"No flies on you."

 

"Shitty saying, Jim."

 

"I know. I'm sorry."

 

##

 

Chapel found the silence in the lab oppressive. It was as if she and Spock were trying so hard to not talk about anything that might hurt or get them into territory they didn't want to cover, that they couldn't say anything at all.

 

She was used to chattering to him, to laughing with him. She turned around and studied him—or his back anyway. "I hate this."

 

He turned around. "The silence between us?" At her nod, he said, "I do as well."

 

"Can we talk? Like we used to before everything got crazy between us? You and T'Pring—did she try to kill you after dinner?"

 

He looked down. "Christine, I do not think it wise for me to discuss T'Pring with you any longer. But any other topic is on the table."

 

"No, sure, that makes a lot of sense. Same with Jim, then."

 

"I cannot ask about him? He is here, Christine. What if I have a question about something he has said or done?"

 

"If you want to know why he's done something, ask him. But if I can't ask about you and T'Pring, then you can't ask about me and Jim."

 

"And what of you and La'an? She is back."

 

"La'an's my friend."

 

"As was I, Christine. Perhaps you define friendship a little differently than most. A little too openly."

 

"You weren't complaining about that the other day."

 

"Yes, and we know what a disaster that day turned out to be."

 

She turned around and went back to work.

 

His voice was very soft; she had to strain to hear it. "I have offended you."

 

"As you intended." She stopped keying in information and got up, pacing in the small room. "We have to work on this project, Spock. We have to work on this together, and do it well so you can get Number One back. But right now, I don't feel like working on it at all. Not with you."

 

"You are letting your emotions get in the way of the mission."

 

"Spock, you fucked me in this goddamned room."

 

"I remember. Do you think I could forget that, even if I wanted to?" He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as if meditating. "But that is over, for you are with Jim, and I am with T'Pring. She wanted to know how it happened. I showed her. Through a meld."

 

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

 

"I am not." His eyes were gentle, as if he was trying to not hurt her—even though he was. "I also showed her what a good friend you were to us—to her. How you tried to help me with romance."

 

"Is there anything left of us that's just ours?" This should not matter.

 

But it did. It damn well did. It hurt that he had given their moments away. To her.

 

"No. I gave her full access to the memories."

 

"So I guess you two made up."

 

"Is that not what you wanted? What Jim wanted? I realize dinner was uncomfortable at times but you were both trying to help me make things right with her."

 

"I didn't say it was logical." She began to gather her stuff up. "I believe it would be easier to work on this if you did the late shift—you never sleep much anyway, right? And I do the early shift. If we have stuff you need to coordinate, we can have a joint session."

 

"Christine, please. You are making this more difficult than it has to be. Is it that you do not trust yourself with me?"

 

"Your ego could power this ship, Spock." She turned her terminal off. "It's because this used to be fun. Or at least neutrally engaging. Now...sitting her with you, knowing we're not ever going to be friends again, not really..." She threw her hands up, unsure what else there was to say.

 

"I did not say we could not be friends."

 

"But she'll see it all, won't she?"

 

"Perhaps. But what will we have to hide?"

 

"Our lives, Spock. Our conversations. Our flaws, our pain, our anger, our tears—or mine anyway. Do you think I want her seeing that—judging me?" She headed for the door. "I think for now we should plan on staying away from each other."

 

"You are behaving childishly, Christine." His voice had never held more disdain.

 

She turned slowly after setting her padds down on a table near the door. "Am I?"

 

He nodded curtly, as if she was beneath him.

 

Rage filled her. Rage she barely understood. She walked to him slowly, never taking her eyes off him.

 

He seemed unable to look away.

 

Slowly she licked her lips and saw him focus on that. She leaned down, her face very close to his and reached down, into his lap, finding his arousal. "I'm not the one dangerously close to losing control of myself here."

 

She saw something pass over his face and thought it was a kind of answering anger. "You have a certain scent when you are aroused. It is present now, Christine. Do not act as if this something that only I have participated in."

 

"Nice, Spock. You going to share this sterling interaction with her?" She let him go and walked to the door. "Don't be here the next time I am."

 

"Do not do that again, Christine. Do not touch me in that way."

 

She turned when she got the door. "Don't worry. I definitely won't."

 

##

 

Kirk nursed a scotch at the bar as Erica filled him in on things she said no one else would tell him about the ship or crew but he needed to know. As he'd told Chris, Erica was connected in all directions on the Enterprise and knew way more than anyone probably guessed.

 

He saw Chris coming into the lounge—storming into it, actually—and said, "Hi—"

 

"Five minutes," she said in as curt a tone as she'd ever used on him and went to the other end of the bar.

 

He started to get up but Erica stopped him. "Er, she's upset. I should—"

 

"No, you should not. Watch and learn, grasshopper. This is why I like my people more uncomplicated." She nodded as the bartender set down a very dark amber liquid in front of her. "Okay, so let's start Christine Chapel 101. Do not, under any circumstances, chase after her when she in in that mood."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because that way lies a speedy breakup and a very unwelcome inventory of all your bad qualities."

 

"You've seen this happen?"

 

"I have."

 

He forced himself to relax and watch. "What the hell is she drinking? A stout?"

 

"Oh, no. The enigma that is Chapel does not imbibe alcohol when she is this pissed off. She goes for her guilty drink: cola, no ice."

 

He couldn't help it. He started to laugh because it really was just so Chris. "So, in your experience, what puts her in this state."

 

"I think you would rather I didn't answer that because so far it's only been one thing."

 

"Spock?"

 

"Yeah. But, on the plus side, I've never seen her tell anyone 'Five minutes' before. So you're way ahead already."

 

"Okay." He knew Chris and Spock had been in the lab. "So, is this hurt or is it anger?"

 

"I'm pretty sure it's 'Why is he such an idiot?' Which is a question I have often asked myself."

 

He laughed.

 

"The question you really want to ask is if they did it again and no, they did not. Guilty Chapel wouldn't come in here. She'd hide in her room."

 

"Interesting."

 

"I know. It's like watching a rare savannah cat stalking her way to a watering hole."

 

He laughed softly. "We just need a British narrator for the nature special." Then he saw La'an come up, say something to the woman sitting next to Chris, who fled to a table, and she put her arm around Chris. Chris leaned into her.

 

"Wow, you ask for British and look who arrives." Erica sighed, way too loudly. "And this is why you need to watch her. See, I could do that too, go over, try to cheer her up, but I don't want her. La'an does."

 

"How do you know though?"

 

"Grasshopper, have you learned nothing about the awesome font of knowledge that is Erica Ortegas?"

 

"Sorry, I forgot myself." He had not taken his eyes off Chris and La'an.

 

Now Chris was laughing—La'an made her laugh?

 

"Okay, so five minutes will be up in about thirty seconds. Her time sense is excellent. Probably from timing experiments all her life. If she comes back to you and leaves La'an, you win. If she stays with La'an, La'an wins."

 

"And if she comes back to me with La'an in tow?"

 

"Then it's a draw. I am out of here. And quit staring at them."

 

He forced himself to look away, and Erica didn't glance that way either.

 

A moment later he felt Chris's touch on the back of his neck. One of his favorite ways for her to touch him in public. "Sorry. I just needed a moment to cool down."

 

"No worries." He turned so she could kiss him if she wanted, and she did. He also did it so he could scan for La'an. She was not there.

 

Yay. He loved winning.

 

"Erica, you're very quiet." Chris sighed. "Look at me, Ortegas."

 

Erica looked over, trying way too hard to look innocent.

 

"Did she figure it out?" she whispered to him.

 

"Yep. Do you want my stool?"

 

"Nope," She pulled his arm around her and leaned against him. "I'll use you."

 

"You can use me anytime." He leaned his head into her. "So what happened tonight?"

 

"Being friends with Spock is not so easy suddenly. Go figure. We're splitting the lab-time up."

 

"A very grown-up solution so it had to be yours," Erica said with a commiserating smile to Chris.

 

"Yes, indeedy."

 

Erica started to get up. "Why don't you take this stool? I can go—"

 

"Sit down. Stay. You're our friend."

 

God, he loved the sound of that. Their friend. "Agreed."

 

She took a deep breath and then said very softly, "I behaved badly."

 

"You?" both he and Erica said together, in the most sarcastic way possible.

 

Chris started to laugh. "Maybe the two of you together isn't such a great idea."

 

"How badly?" Erica asked. "Like"—she did the finger sign for screwing—"that bad?"

 

"God, no."

 

"Yay for that?" He thought there was something off though—but then she had to work in the lab where she and Spock had sex. That had to be challenging.

 

Especially since she still loved him. And Spock still loved her.

 

Jesus, maybe he should dump Chris and ask Erica out. Way more fun being with her sometimes.

 

Except he only wanted Chris.

 

And he suddenly understood what Erica had meant by Chris being complicated. It wasn't that she came with any more baggage than anyone else, it was that she seemed to forget to lock the suitcase, let it spill out, threw all her shit back in with some sticking out as she sat on the bag to get it re-closed. Lather, rinse, repeat.

 

On the plus side, still better adjusted than Janice Lester.

 

##

 

Spock turned when the lab door opened, expecting it to be Christine, that she'd come to her senses and would behave logically, would cease to fixate on what had been.

 

Even if he also thought of her far too often. But that was a choice and he must learn not to make it.

 

It was not Christine. It was La'an.

 

She plopped into the chair nearest the door and rolled over to him. "We need to talk about what happened to Una. How the hell could the captain just let them take her?" She was nearly glaring at him, as if it was his fault Number One was gone. "And do we break her out and go on the lam with her or do we let the wheels of justice—which in my experience are slow as fuck—run?"

 

He was unsure how he became part of her plans? Then again, they were both protégés of Number One, so she might consider them kindred spirits. Even if that was the only thing she probably thought they had in common. "The captain did not know they were coming to take her or I imagine he would have taken steps to protect—even hide—her. How did you know I was here?"

 

"Couldn't find you in your quarters or on the bridge or in your office. So I went to the lounge and found Christine and asked her. She usually knows where you are."

 

Interesting. He rarely knew where she was. Although recently he just presumed she was with Kirk.

 

"So what are we going to do?" she asked and the tough mask dropped and he saw the woman he'd seen in their meld. The little girl who was losing her brother—her protector.

 

"We cannot break her out."

 

She looked down. "She saved me, Spock."

 

"I realize that. And she has been a mentor to me. But she would not want us to repay her mentorship and protection by throwing away our careers in what would no doubt be a failed attempt."

 

"It's you and me. If anybody can get her out, we can."

 

He remembered his own experience with captivity. "Perhaps."

 

"But you don't want to risk it, do you?"

 

"I do not. I am helping"—he gestured to his terminal—"with this project. What we are doing here will be crucial to her case."

 

"Can I help?"

 

"Not with this. But if you are determined to try to rescue her if we fail, then you must find allies. You will not succeed alone."

 

"Do you think you'll fail?"

 

"Christine and I are building an excellent scientific case. But it is not a jury of her peers. It will be a panel of admirals. They are political. They may not care that we have made our case."

 

"I know. That's what worries me."

 

"On the other hand, she has an excellent history with these same admirals. Serving under them. An exemplary officer. One who could be counted on. Starfleet security may want Number One punished but the panel may not concur."

 

She closed her eyes. "I want that to be true so badly."

 

"As do I, La'an."

 

"I won't call them yet, but I still have family. They're shitholes and Una kept me away from them for a reason. But—if I didn't tell them it was her we were breaking out—I bet we could do it."

 

"I would not bet against you."

 

"Spock, you would not bet period." She smiled—a genuine smile for once. "I don't understand how scanners and experienced medical people couldn't tell she wasn't human. If it's that easy to hide, how can it matter?"

 

"That is, indeed, the question." He was unsure what more she wanted of him, but she was sitting staring at the floor. "If there is nothing else, I should get back to this."

 

She looked up. "Jim Kirk. Who is he? Why is he here? How did he and Christine...?"

 

"I too was suspicious of him, but he so far has been an exemplary first officer. He has not tried to move unduly fast to change anything. He appears interested in learning from those who do rather than showing his own knowledge. I have been impressed."

 

He stopped to consider that. Was anything he just said ill stated? No. He was, indeed, impressed with Kirk.

 

"But he and Christine? I could stand her mooning over you because I knew she'd never get you. But him? I leave for a few weeks and she's got a beau? Like a real one, not one of her flavors of the moment?"

 

"I agree. It was most unexpected." That was stating it mildly. "They met off the ship, just before he was offered the posting."

 

"I don't like him."

 

"Do you like anyone, La'an?" he asked it as gently as he could. "Other than Christine and Number One?"

 

"I like the captain. And Nyota has wormed her way into my stone-cold heart." She glared at him again. "I can feel, you know."

 

"I am aware. I did share your memories, after all."

 

"That was the old me. The innocent me. Who thought life worked out for those who were good little girls."

 

"I, too, once operated under that assumption. Time will teach one otherwise."

 

"Time and the Gorn."

 

"Yes." Or time and his father.

 

##

 

 

Part 2

 

Kirk was just getting off shift, looking forward to sequestering himself with Chris in his quarters and not letting Spock—or anyone else—ruin their evening. It had been two weeks with minimal drama—probably because Chris was sticking to her guns about not working on the special project at the same time as Spock.

 

Which wasn't the best option if this had been an official mission—and he and she had talked about that, how it might look. She was well aware.

 

She just didn't want to be around Spock right now.

 

Which was great.

 

And really worrisome.

 

What was more worrisome was that Sam was in a shit mood. His story: people couldn't take a joke. Kirk knew it had to be more than that.

 

With him, it always was.

 

So he wasn't that surprised when Pike said, "Let's go to my office and chat."

 

He had the tone Kirk had come to associate with bad news. He hoped it was about nothing more than his brother.

 

When they got to Pike's office, he gestured to the less formal area, and as Kirk sat on the couch, he poured them both drinks. As he handed over Kirk's, he said, "I got word from the JAG. Or rather from a friend within—this isn't official and I'm trusting you to keep it to yourself. Especially from Christine and Spock and most of all La'an."

 

"Are you sure you should share it with me, then—if you can't trust Spock or La'an?"

 

"You're the one sitting in the first officer's chair. Your career is the most impacted other than Una's. So yeah. And I've really liked what I've seen so far. I feel I can trust you. Is there a reason I shouldn't?"

 

"No."

 

"Sam's included in the don't-tell list but I rarely see you with him. Is it because of Chapel and the fun of new love or do you two not get on?"

 

"Definitely I'm a bit focused on Christine. But...I mean I really love my brother. I looked up to him when I was a kid. But...I'm finding we do better not working the same place."

 

"Yeah. Sorry about that." He leaned back. "I need to talk about him too as well as Una. Shit, let's start with him. I've gotten complaints. Things he's said, not the same person. Not the same type of offensive comment. He always says he's joking."

 

"Yep. He always does."

 

"I've talked to him about it. Several times. I think I'm getting to him but then...this shit."

 

Kirk nodded.

 

"He's not cut out for this ship."

 

"I agree." It pained him like hell to say it, but it was the truth—it really sucked to realize his brother was not someone he'd pick for his own ship. "He's missing his family." Why was he making excuses for him? He was an asshole. Chris didn't even like hanging out with him when it was completely social. And Kirk couldn't blame her. If Aurelian had been here, it would have been different.

 

He realized Pike was saying something and refocused.

 

"He never thinks before he opens his damn mouth. Or before he acts. Did you hear that he got injured touching an alien object we had reason to believe might be hostile?"

 

"He gave me a more positively spun version of that story."

 

"Of course he did. Because he's sunshine personified at his best, which is why I wanted him on my ship. But I only worked distantly adjacent to him before. I never had to manage him—or watch others try to supervise him. To say I've been disappointed is an understatement." He narrowed his eyes as he studied Kirk. "What do you think I should do?"

 

"Are the offenses worth a courtmartial or a demotion?"

 

"I don't know."

 

"So you're just going to pass the trash?"

 

"Jesus, Jim, it's your brother." He laughed but it was a weird sound.

 

"It is but I've had to work with passed trash and it's not fun. They get even more of an attitude the more they get away with it and the more they realize their career's going nowhere. Nothing to lose is a bad motivator."

 

"I'm too close to him and so are you. He needs one more chance with someone who is not his friend or related."

 

"Okay, then since it's a conflict of interest for me to manage him, which is why you have to now, that's one good reason to let him move on. There is also a posting on Dorcillia that really looks like it could be up his alley." At Pike's look, he said, "I've noticed too. In such a short time. It was a disappointment. My big bro and all." He sighed. "I always tried to live up to my dad's reputation. Sam went the other way. Doing his own thing, not caring if he pissed dad off with the things he said. I thought it was only with dad he was like that. But...it's not."

 

"So you've looked for a graceful landing spot for him?"

 

"I did. He's still my brother. I still love him. I want the best for him. And this position is an accompanied tour. He's better when his family is there. His wife is amazing—she keeps him true."

 

"She is amazing. Okay, I'll reach out and see what things look like for candidates for that posting." He leaned back and sipped his drink. "So...Una. Because of the work of several advocacy groups who somehow got wind of her case"—he smiled in a way Kirk could easily read—"Starfleet is not just trying Una. Her case, if it's found in her favor enough to reinstate her, could change the rules for augmentation—what's acceptable and what's not. Because of that, they want to 'give both sides time to fully prepare for this historic case.'"

 

"How long?"

 

"Eighteen months."

 

"What?"

 

"It's ludicrous. I'm..." He lifted his glass and his hand was shaking slightly.

 

"You're outraged. And enraged."

 

"All the rages, Jim. All the goddamn rages." He closed his eyes. "I thought seven months max. Don't ask me how I came up with that number. Nights lying awake, counting the tiles on the ceiling. Wishful thinking. Past cases I'm familiar with. I don't know. But a year and a half just to start?"

 

"And she stays in custody?"

 

"Yeah, they consider her a flight risk. I've been denied any access to her because I'm considered 'too close.'"

 

"Are you?" He held up his hand after asking it. "Captain's discretion as to whether and how you want to answer that or not."

 

"She's the best first officer in the fleet. She's saved me and everyone on this ship—well, except you—by outing herself in a way that got her arrested. She could have let us all die to save herself. She's smart enough to have thought of a reason why she survived when no one else did. But that's not who she is."

 

Kirk still couldn't tell if Pike was in love with her or not. But did it matter? Some partnerships transcended romance and sex.

 

"Is there anything I can do?"

 

"Just keep being the second-best first officer in the fleet."

 

He knew he was blushing a little. "I haven't done much yet."

 

"I know. But you've got the gift: presence, charm, smarts, the regs down pat, and I bet you motivate like nobody's business. I didn't pick you by accident."

 

"Why did you pick me? There are people way ahead of me in line. People who are probably very pissed at me right now."

 

"I had a feeling, Jim. I can see the man you'll become. The captain you'll become."

 

"That's my dream."

 

"Yeah, it was mine too. When I got this ship... Would you like this ship?"

 

"More than anything."

 

"Well, just keep excelling then." He closed his eyes. "You know anyone in the JAG's office who might get me in to see her."

 

"No."

 

"Figures. Nothing about this is going my way today."

 

"I'm sorry."

 

"And you're not." He opened his eyes. "Don't lie, Jim. I know what a weird position you're in. She wins, you lose."

 

"Being on the ship in any capacity is a win, Chris."

 

"Damn fine answer, my friend." He threw back his drink. "I'll let you go because I bet someone's waiting for you." He looked envious.

 

But also resigned.

 

Kirk wished he understood what drove this man. There was such a deep sadness in him at times that he didn't think had anything to do with Una Chin-Reilly.

 

But if Pike intended to share that with him, it wasn't yet.

 

And he knew better than to push.

 

Maybe, someday, he'd tell him.

 

##

 

Chapel was working in the lab when the chime went off for her personal comms. She glanced at who it was from and forgot how to breathe.

 

Her advisor. The man Jim liked to call "The Creep." The man she'd had an affair with.

 

The first man she'd ever really loved.

 

The man who had agreed this would be an excellent opportunity for her—and no doubt a great way to get his mistress away from his suddenly suspicious wife.

 

She answered and said in the flattest voice she could manage, "Hello, Roger."

 

"Hello, darling."

 

They had to be on his ultra-private comm channel. The one that didn't belong to Stanford or his home service.

 

"I haven't been your darling for some time, Doctor Korby."

 

"Aww, are your little feelings still hurt?" Despite the mockery in his voice, he was staring at her like she was the oasis and he the thirsty man in the desert.

 

"You must want something."

 

"I want you back. Your proof of concept has worked. We have enough to work on it from here."

 

"No, we don't."

 

"Let me rephrase. We no longer need our lead geneticist out there. Someone else can take your place field-testing and you can get to work on bigger and better things."

 

"Why would I come back? This is my project. I'm tweaking it from here and you've had nothing but good notes on those tweaks."

 

"Yes, I know But I'm getting a divorce, Christine."

 

"Yeah, I've heard that one before."

 

"Only this time it's true." He held up his hand.

 

No ring. And the telltale tan line, that he never seemed to realize gave him away as a married man pretending he wasn't, was gone. "We've been separated for six months. I'll be free in six more. And I miss you. I miss you more than I thought possible."

 

She leaned back. "I'm with someone."

 

"You always are. But they never mean anything."

 

"This one does." But did he? Compared to Roger? She'd wanted him so badly.

 

But he cheated on his wife—he'd cheat on her too. She knew that, deep down. She'd seen it happen to friends. They'd all thought they were special, that they were their person's one true love, and then they'd find out they married exactly the person they'd once cheated with. A cheater, once and always.

 

And Jim wasn't that. Somehow, she knew that deep down, where it mattered.

 

"Roger, this is an opportunity I find I can't leave. I don't want to go on to other things just yet. Plus, I know more than anyone else you could send."

 

He leaned in. "The thing about you, my darling, is you never really understand what I can do and what I can't. The power I wield. I need you back here. There is no discussion."

 

"No."

 

"How will you fight me? You have no power, my dove."

 

She cut the connection before he could say more. A moment later her inbox chime sounded. He'd sent the official request for her to return to Stanford to Pike. She was on the copy line.

 

A text appeared on her screen from Pike about fifteen minutes later. "Do you want to talk about this? Or do you want to go back?"

 

"I want to talk about this," she keyed back.

 

"Can you come to my office now?"

 

"Be right there." She shut down her work and hightailed it to his office, ringing for admittance, walking in as soon as the door opened, ignoring his gesture toward a chair and instead pacing back and forth.

 

"This is the same guy who sent you to us. On a two-year rotation. Why is he calling you back early?"

 

She closed her eyes. She didn't want to lie—not to him. "I was involved with him. He was married. He soon won't be. I guess he thinks we'll get back together if I go back."

 

He looked shocked she'd tell him that.

 

"It's why he's doing it, sir. You asked."

 

"I did, didn't I. I guess...I guess I didn't think someone would do that for this reason."

 

"If it matters, that was the first and last time I ever did anything like that."

 

"That's your business, Christine. But I'm glad to hear it."

 

"Thank you, sir."

 

"M'Benga would like you on staff."

 

She turned and walked to the chair he'd first suggested. "But then I wouldn't be able to work on the project. My project."

 

"I don't know about that. I'm in the mood to make some trouble, Christine. I've had enough of people I need being yanked away from me. I know his boss. Really, really well if you get my drift."

 

She started to laugh. "Doctor Bowmore is quite a woman."

 

"That she is." He leaned in. "This isn't how I wanted to pitch converting to you. But I think you should."

 

"Sir, I'm not a nurse, though. I mean I've taken the classes and I've worked my ass off being one. I'm trying to be the best nurse I can."

 

"Well, I've been impressed, and M'Benga says you're his favorite."

 

"I know. But it's not my passion. Genetics is. I'd like a science posting."

 

"And be supervised by Spock and managed by your boyfriend? Who would have to stop being your boyfriend unless you marry him, and then I become your boss—assuming Starfleet lets you stay on board. They don't always approve tandem assignments. And if you transfer out of medical, you can't work on your project because for reasons known only to the wonks who do contracts for Starfleet, Stanford's POC on board the ship has to be billeted in medical."

 

"Wow. Those are a lot of good reasons to stay a nurse." She leaned back, thinking. "There are medical tracks for geneticists."

 

"Yes, there are. If you get sick of it here, I'm sure Starfleet Medical would be thrilled to have you. Or if you get sick of Jim, you can transfer to a science position. Providing you don't get sick of him only to move on to Spock."

 

"Sir?"

 

"Christine, do you think I'm blind?"

 

"He's happy. With T'Pring."

 

"I know. It's great."

 

"It is." She loaded as much sincerity as she could into the words.

 

"And yet every time I go to talk to him in the lab, you're never there."

 

"We've divvied up the time. It frees me to spend time with Jim when he's done with reports. And Spock doesn't sleep on the same schedule as most of us, so he's fine with taking the later shift. We do meet together when we need to discuss something but for the most part, we're working different aspects of the project."

 

"Such a good answer."

 

She waited.

 

"Fine, we'll leave that alone for now. Do you want me to put in the conversion papers or do you want to think on it?"

 

"You'd try to make it so I could stay on my project?"

 

"I damn well guarantee it."

 

She smiled gently. "You can't guarantee it."

 

"No?" He smiled dangerously and she decided she would not want to be Roger if he objected. "Watch me."

 

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