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)
2018 by Djinn. This story is Rated R.
Hellcat
By
Djinn
Chapel
heard the comm system going off over the dueling
snores of her husbands. She crawled over Jim and got to the comm,
"Yes?"
"Private
channel for the captain from Admiral Nogura," the comms
officer on duty said.
"Hold
on, I'll get him."
Getting
him consisted of waking him up, and then being shunted
into the bathroom with Spock so Jim could take the call in private.
She
thought it likely that Spock could hear every word that was being said. Not
that he'd tell her if he was—and he had his best "I am doing nothing
wrong at all" face on. She leaned up against him and he put his arms
around her, nuzzling silently—confirming her suspicion that he was
listening.
Then
again, it was possible he just didn't want "hearty morning sex"
noises coming out of the bathroom when Jim was on the comm
with his boss. Was it even morning yet? Chapel felt way too tired for it to be
time to get up, and she'd been in such a rush to get to the comm
terminal, she hadn't looked at the chrono.
"What
time is it?" It was a rare day that Spock was too distracted to notice how
much time they had to play before getting up.
"We
have four more hours to sleep. Unless this is a crisis in which—"
She
kissed him to shut him up. He tended to revert back to "State the
Obvious" Spock when he'd been woken abruptly—especially after being
worn out the night before by two amorous spouses.
She
knew the Pon Farr was still on all their minds. That
they'd almost lost each other. That they, in the end, had
chosen to make it work. But that it hadn't been a given. That things did—and might again—get hard.
But
they also were choosing love. And not worrying about who was
with whom. They were a unit. And she loved that. She felt that they'd
come out the other side stronger. Not forgetting was just prudent, because
forgetting was the way to become complacent and risk that happening again.
"You
are exhausted," Spock said softly.
"I'm
really tired. Too much sex." She laughed quietly, pulling him back to her.
He
seemed content to kiss her and made small moans as she moved her hands over
places he loved to be touched. Maybe he wasn't eavesdropping?
The
bathroom door opened and Jim said, "You can come back to bed. Although you
look very pretty doing that so I'm a little torn." He yawned.
"Actually, I'm not. Come back to bed, I'm beat."
"You
do not have to attend to whatever the Admiral wanted?" Spock asked.
"Course
change. Maxwell has it under control on the bridge. I'll brief you in due
time."
Spock
frowned slightly.
Christine
knew that when Jim pulled out the "Sorry, can't tell you"
voice, it was usually something not very nice they were headed into—and
often classified.
"It
may be nothing, Spock. We'll know more tomorrow. Now come on, our bed is
calling." He left them in the bathroom and was already in bed when they
walked out.
She
let Spock have the middle this time; as much as she loved being back in the big
bed with both her men, she was tired of being deafened by the snore-chestra.
##
Saavik sees the
commandant and returns the strange little smile he always gives her. She is not
afraid to play on the warmth she has parlayed into favors, into survival. But
she enjoys it, too. He treats no other child this way. "Little Cat, it is
time to say goodbye."
"Are we leaving?"
"I am. You are not.
You will stay here."
She turns and sees the
Romulans are packing their belongings into shuttles. What they cannot easily
carry, they are destroying. "But...we are your children." In fact,
she is his child, even if he has never told her that.
Her mother did, spit it at her one day when Saavik came in bruised from a
fight—a fight she had won because he had taught her how to.
He sighs. "You are
our bastards. Our...experiments. There is a
difference." But the way he ruffles his hand through her hair belies his
tone, and his voice almost breaks.
"Take me with you.
Take me home," she whispers.
"You have no home,
Little Cat. The day you realize that is the day you will be truly free."
He hands her his dagger. "Fight well with this. The food stores we are
leaving for you are extremely limited." His expression
changes. "At least there will be no adults to take them from you.
Romulans leave no prisoners, but we also do not kill our own, even if you have
no place with us."
She looks around and
realizes all she sees are children. "But... There were so many
adults."
"A Vulcan would
know exactly how many. You are so Romulan." For a moment, he looks torn,
but then he turns away.
"So we will die?
Where is the logic in that?"
"Your mother taught
you foolishness. Only a few races operate by the tenets of logic, child, and
they will not rule the cosmos. It is a pity she did not die before you could
soak up her ways."
She barely remembers her
mother. A Vulcan. Beautiful. But cold—ashamed of her.
She knows her mother taught her the basics of logic because it angered the
Romulans, not because she wanted her daughter to be anything like her.
She meets the
commandant's eyes and sees so many emotions in them, but she can tell that none
will allow him to relent, to take her with him, to keep her safe.
She has always wondered
why he taught her to fight. Now she knows. She turns on her heel and does not
say goodbye.
But she fights tears as
she hears him say it in their shared tongue.
##
Christine
found Jim in their quarters, studying a padd. "Len said you wanted to see
me."
He
held his hand out to her, pulling her close and leaning his head on her hip.
"Orders
you don't like?" she asked softly.
"More
like orders to a place Spock is going to find hard to bear." He handed her
the padd.
She
read quickly: Romulans experimenting with captured Vulcans, a ten-year eugenics
program of some kind, but no adults left, just
children. Children who didn't read, didn't write, had spent
their entire lives fighting for survival in some kind of Darwinian society.
"How could they do this? It's..."
"Unspeakable.
Yes." He took the padd and pulled her into his lap, but it was clear he
was interested in closeness, not sex. "God knows what they had to
do—what they've seen?"
"Does
it remind you of Tarsus IV?"
He
looked up, surprise clear on his face. Did he think she wouldn't understand?
Finally, he nodded.
"I'm
sorry, Jim. But we'll do right by them. Their lives will improve, right? A hard
road, after all they've been through, but ultimately a healthier one. And
happier, if they're allowed to feel that."
"Spock
feels."
"I
know. But he's always gone his own way."
"Do
you think Sarek doesn't love Amanda? Isn't happy with her?"
She
kissed him gently. "He married a human. I'm not sure we married into a
typical family."
"Good
point. They won't want to talk." His expression darkened; he was obviously
referring to the kids again, not their in-laws. " You want to forget after
horrible things. You want to move on. But you have to face things to move
on." He studied her. "You have to face what you did to survive."
"I've
never been in that position. I'm sorry." She stroked his cheek gently.
"Other than Thule. But that's not the same thing. No one was hunting us,
other than the elements. And we all had each other. And look where we ended
up." She kissed him as tenderly as she could.
When
they eased away, she could tell the sharing was over. His face was the captain
again, not her husband.
She
eased off his lap. "So what next?"
"Spock
has been talking to his father all morning. Making plans for the
children."
"How
could the Romulans leave them to die? They're half Romulan."
"I
don't know."
The
door opened and Spock came in.
"I've
read her in," Jim said.
Spock
nodded, as if this was not a surprise. "I believe all is in order. My
father is preparing a place for them. They will be evaluated. Those who are
healthy enough will be assessed for where and how to integrate them into
society."
"What
about their families?" Christine asked.
"The
Adelphi has sent us the genetic
information of the survivors as well as the deceased adults and children, and I
have forwarded it to my father but..." He actually sighed, loudly.
"There is great shame in this. That so few survived will be seen as
perhaps fortunate."
"Fortunate."
Jim sounded resigned.
"What
about compassion?" She moved closer. "What the hell about taking care
of your own?"
"We
shall."
"We,
Vulcan, you mean? Not we, their families? What? In some kind of institution?"
"It
will be up to each family to decide what is right for them. We cannot force
them to welcome these children into their lives."
She
started to say something, but Jim said, "Christine, this is hard enough
for him." He stood. "And we'll be there in three hours. We need to be
united, not fighting."
"Indeed,
Jim."
She
glared at both of them. "They're just children. Children who possibly
killed other children just to survive."
"Yes.
That makes them potentially quite dangerous." Spock's look was more tender than she expected given how she was insulting
his society. "You must not let down your guard until we have assessed
them." He turned to Jim. "Mister Chekov and I have configured one of
the auxiliary sickbays into a temporary dormitory. With maximum security
protocols."
"You
think they'll try to take over the ship?" She almost laughed at the idea.
"Christine,
they may have been trained to do exactly that. You must not view them as
children, but as potential Romulan agents. We cannot discount that possibility
until we know they have not been raised to infiltrate the Federation."
"This
is insane." She pushed his hand away as he tried to lay it on her
shoulder. To what? Calm her down? "I'm going to
sickbay. Where I assume we still heal people no matter who they might be."
"Leonard
is already working on the issue."
She
cocked her head. "And didn't tell me."
Jim
stood, clearly tired of her attitude. "I'm telling you now. This is
sensitive beyond just Vulcan feelings about the status of these kids. If this
is a plot, Starfleet Intelligence will want the knowledge of it contained. I'm
only allowed to read in select personnel. So now that you're in the know, go
help Bones." He sounded tired. Like he didn't want to be her captain,
wanted to go back to holding her. But then he turned and motioned for Spock to
follow, "So tell me what I need to know."
The
door closed behind them and she tried to kick away the feeling of being left
out, which was stupid. They did this; they worked closely together. More closely than either of them did with her.
So
she took a moment to try to find the logic she knew she was capable of and went
back to sickbay, not surprised when Len motioned her into the office. "You
seem ticked off. I gather Jim read you in?"
"He
did." She sat and studied him. "They're going to be prisoners on the
ship, Len."
"I
know, hon. Let's do our part to get them viewed as children, not spies."
She
helped him prep the exam kits to take down to the makeshift dormitory. The
other doctor and nurses on duty didn't ask questions, just started to help them
when they saw what they were doing.
When
they finished, she and Len sat in his office, waiting for the ship to establish
orbit around a hell world.
##
Saavik watches the crew
from the small ship herding children from one shelter
to another. She knows the ship is called Adelphi because she heard the crew introduce themselves as she was fleeing, but
they were not speaking Romulan, and there was an echo of another language under
the Romulan, as if their voices were being translated as they spoke.
One of them is scanning
and points to where she is hiding, so she ducks back, against the hills that
contain some kind of metal that confuses sensors.
The ship landed two days
ago. The small crew have not only been treating and feeding the surviving
children but putting the bodies of the dead in some kind of bags. Then they
began digging up the remains.
Her mother is there.
Saavik feels very little about that.
She does not trust the
people in the ship. She does not like the way they keep the survivors confined,
weapons out, some kind of clear barrier transforming the shelters into cages.
She was lucky to get
away. But not surprised that the other children probably told the men to look
for her. She has the knife, after all. An advantage over all
of them.
She is in the best
health, has the fattest belly—although she knows that will change the
longer she hides. There is nothing to eat but the little remaining of what the
commandant left them, and now what the men in the ship provide. Both of which
are kept far from her.
She is thirsty, too. The
stream that feeds the settlement is blocked by the men and
their shelters, and it is too long a walk to any others—if there
are an others nearby. She grabbed a full water carrier on her way out of the
settlement when she heard the ships, but it has only a few sips left.
She is not sure why she
fled. The children do not appear to be suffering under the hands of the men in
the ship: they are simply confined. But something in her said to run, so she
listened. It is how she has survived so far. Relying on herself, on her own
wits, on the intuition the commandant used to tell her to cherish since it
would keep her alive when logic failed.
It is this instinct that
keeps her hungry and thirsty; logic would dictate that she join the rest of the
children.
But even hungry and
thirsty, she is free and she wants to stay that way.
It may well mean she
will die alone in this wasteland, but at least something will have finally been
her choice.
##
Christine
and Len accompanied Jim and Spock to the surface, relieving the crew of the Adelphi after being briefed on the
current situation.
Spock
examined the remaining Romulan tech, all destroyed, no doubt beyond any means
to get the information back.
She
crouched down next to him. "Anything?"
He
shook his head. "They were quite thorough." He turned to the head of
the scout team. "Have the children shown any sign of revolt?"
"No,
but they're extremely weak. No one but us has come to the planet since they
were abandoned with minimal stores. They say there's an older child out
there"—he gestured toward the bare mountains that rose up beyond the
camp—"who the commandant gave special favor to."
"A
concubine?"
"I
don't think so, sir. She's only ten. But she's a wily one. And armed with a
dagger, from what the kids told us. We catch her biosigns
every now and then, but then she gets closer to the mountains and the jivanium screws with our sensors." He turned to Jim.
"We appreciate you taking them home, sir. We don't have room."
"Understood.
I've got security men beaming down in a few minutes. You'll be clear to leave
once they get here."
"Aye,
sir. It's..." The man swallowed hard. "It's horrible. What's happened
here." He turned and headed back to the shelters,
as if talking about it was just too difficult.
Christine
surveyed the body bags laid out, the smaller bins that would hold less complete
remains. "So many."
Jim's
eyes were hard as he followed her gaze, and she knew he was back on Tarsus IV
for a moment, then he turned as Spock started to head
out toward the mountain. "Spock, wait for security."
"It
is better that I do this alone, Jim."
"Why?"
Spock
turned, his eyebrow going up. "Because I can reach her."
"And
you know this how?"
"I
just do. Perhaps, I have been spending too much time with you?" His words
were playful, but his expression wasn't.
"Maybe
so." Jim sighed and pulled out his communicator. "Kirk to Chekov, we're
ready for you down here."
"Aye,
sir. Beaming now." A moment later he appeared with a contingent of
security officers. He turned to watch Spock striding toward the mountains.
"Do you want some of my men to go with him?"
"Send
two. But tell them to keep well back unless Spock needs them. He thinks he's
better suited to get this done. She's a ten-year-old child but she's got a
knife and you should consider her dangerous.
"Understood,
sir." Chekov motioned two officers forward and after a few words, sent
them to tail Spock.
"All
right, Bones," Jim said. "Let's see what
we've got."
She
tried not to bristle. She was his wife, not his CMO—he was going to look
to Len first.
But
then he looked back and made the little smile of "I know you're here,
too," and she felt stupid and overly sensitive.
She
glanced back to where she'd last seen Spock; he was out of sight. He could
handle a ten-year-old. He was strong and smart and suspicious of
her—possibly more so than humans would be. He'd be fine.
Meanwhile,
there were children who weren't fine. She hurried to catch up to Len and Jim,
steeling herself for what they were going to find in the shelters.
##
Saavik can tell someone
is behind her, even if there should be no way to track her when she is this
close to the mountains. She climbs up, because it has been her experience that
few fail to consider that danger may come from above, and she waits.
He strides into view. A
Vulcan?
"I am not here to
hurt you," he says in Vulcan, but she somehow hears it as Romulan, too.
She answers back in
Vulcan. "I do not believe you."
This time, when he
answers, there is no echo in Romulan. "I presume you have little reason
to." He looks up, his eyes scanning the ridge she is on. "I used to
enjoy climbing. My father never looked up."
Does he know she is
missing the commandant? Is that why he mentions his father? She will not show
him that it hurts. "Some kind of game?"
"No, generally I
was attempting to avoid him." He moves closer. "My name is Spock. I
am part of Starfleet. Of the Federation. Do you know
what those are?"
"No." She
moves closer so she can study him. "I am Romulan."
"You are half
Romulan, if I understand the purpose of this planet correctly."
"My Vulcan mother
made it clear that half-breeds are abominations."
"I am half human.
Not all who have mixed blood are seen as bad."
"So she was
wrong?"
"She was forced to
have you. That is what is abomination—the lack of consent—not you
as an individual."
"Small
comfort."
"Yes, I suppose
that is true." He moves closer.
She pulls her knife out.
He is almost under her. As he comes fatally close, she launches, stabbing down,
aiming for the gut but only hitting the shoulder because he moves too
fast—she is used to underfed adults, who are sluggish. He is obviously
well fed.
He falls with her but
twists, bringing her up under his arm, and she gets ready to elbow him when
suddenly she feels his fingers on her neck. She has forgotten this thing
Vulcans can do. None had used it in years because the Romulans cut off fingers
in punishment, and no touch telepath wanted that.
She has no idea how to
fight this attack. Her world goes black before she has to think too long about
options.
##
Christine
felt the bond ping hard, and saw Jim turn, both of them staring toward where
Spock disappeared, their hands reaching up to their right shoulders. She
expected her hand to come away bloody, but it didn't.
"Jim,
he's injured."
Jim
began to head off, but then two security men appeared in the distance, one with
a child slung over his shoulder. The other walking behind,
clearly ready in case she woke. And Spock was bringing up the rear and
holding his shoulder, his hand covered with green.
"Bones,
help me with Spock. Christine, assess the child." Jim ran to Spock.
"I
don't need a scanner to diagnose that she's a goddamn menace." As Spock
came closer, she saw a nasty knife she must have been carrying. "Over
here," she motioned to the security officer, then
turned to Spock. "Neck pinch?"
He
nodded even as Len told him to hold still.
"Let's
get some restraints on her. She's obviously an 'act first, ask questions later'
kind of girl." She waited for the security officers to get the forcecuffs on her, then began to
scan. "Astonishingly healthy, compared to the others. Age about ten."
"She's
one of the oldest, then." Len walked over. "Spock says the dagger's
Romulan."
"Did
she steal it or did someone give it to her?"
"Does
it matter?"
"Yeah,
it does." She thought about the way favors worked, and scanned to see if
this child had been trading her body for advantage, but to her great relief,
she found no indication of sexual activity, consensual or non.
Spock
walked over, Jim sticking close, watching him as if trying to figure out what
he was thinking.
She
realized she was having a hard time feeling him, too. After the pain of the
stabbing, he'd shut down, probably to spare them, but had not opened back up.
"Revive
her," he said, his voice harsher than she was used to.
"Spock,
is that wise?" Len held his hand out when Spock pushed forward. "Why
not get her up to the ship where we can control her better? The isolation room,
for instance, in the auxiliary sickbay is perfect."
Spock
seemed torn in a way Christine wasn't used to seeing him. It didn't make sense
to her; she would have been in no hurry to get anywhere near the kid again.
"There
are other children here, Spock." Jim actually took Spock's elbow, easing
him away from the girl and to the tent where the others were being held.
"Color
me old fashioned, but I wouldn't be so interested in a child who'd just
skewered me as wickedly as this one did Spock." Len met her eyes.
"You got any idea what's going on in his head?"
"I
guess they connected out there."
"Before
or after she tried to kill him."
"No
idea." She could tell the girl was starting to come around and reached for
the hypo before Len could tell her not to, sending her back into a nice deep
sleep. "Don't lecture me."
"I
was going to give you a commendation, hon'. Angry
half-Vulcans aren't big on my list of favorite things."
He'd
seen Spock during that first Pon Farr, and later with
Zarabeth, when he'd reverted. And he'd faced down a
very angry Spock after their own Pon
Farr, when he wouldn't let him see her.
She
studied the girl. Pretty but her hair was wild and her skin and clothes were
covered with dust. But she'd clean up just fine—on the outside, anyway.
God only knew how damaged she was on the inside.
##
Saavik wakes on a bed
very different than the cots she is used to. She notices a strange vibration
under her feet, then the smell of air that is somehow wrong. She sees the
Vulcan she stabbed sitting just outside the doorway of the room she is in, and
even though she no longer has her dagger, even though he lifts his hand and
says, "Do not," she charges.
A moment later, she is
on the ground, shaking herself from the shock of whatever barrier is between
them.
"You have never
seen a force field? I would have thought the Romulans used them."
She gets up and studies
the doorway, easing closer until she can feel the slight tingle, running her
hand close enough for the hair on her arm to rise. "The power was
unreliable. The same thing in the mountains that defeats sensors interfered at
times with the generators."
"Ah." Then he
frowns. "But there were no bars."
"There was nowhere
to go. And..." She takes a deep breath,
remembering and not wanting to. "If you ran, they killed anyone you cared
for."
"Were there
suicides?"
"At first."
She studies him now that the force field no longer fascinates her. "It is
easy to kill someone else. Not so easy to kill yourself. Not without weapons.
And the Romulans intervened if someone stopped eating or drinking."
"Were there no
revolts?"
She imagines the feel of
the dagger in her hand—how much safer she felt with it, taller and
bigger. "No. There were more Romulans than captives. Not just guards but
scientists. Rebellion was inefficient." Her mother told her this once,
when Saavik was very young and asked why she did not do anything to free them.
"When the Romulans
left, they killed all the adult captives. Why not you?"
"We were Romulans,
if only half." She sits on the floor.
"How did you come
to have the knife?"
"The commandant
gave it to me when he left. I was his favorite." She meets his eyes.
Wondering if he will see what she is not saying.
"You were his
daughter?"
She nods.
"And yet he left
you."
She turns away. "I
was an experiment. Not a family member."
"But he left you
the knife."
"He
was...conflicted." She looks up to see if he is surprised she knows the
word. Her mother used it more than once. Never about how she felt, always about
how the commandant did.
"What is your name?
Mine, if you remember, is Spock."
She sees no reason to
hide her name, not when she is clearly his prisoner. "Saavik."
"Is that
Romulan?"
"I do not
know."
"Did the commandant
give it to you?"
She nods.
"What did your
mother call you?"
"Nothing." She
hopes he sees how little she feels when she says it. Just as little as her
mother did. "I meant more to the commandant, and I meant little to
him." She pushes herself to her feet in one lithe movement. It is
something she practiced, being able to get away fast.
But there is nowhere to
go. "Let me out."
"I cannot. Not
until I know you are not going to try to hurt anyone."
"I do not know
where I am. I can guess that it is a ship. But even if I were to somehow get to
the controls, I would not know how to do anything with them." She frowns.
"Do you think I do not understand how cooperation gains certain
freedoms?"
"I think you fully
understand that. Which is why I cannot let you out just yet. Cooperation can be
temporary."
"You wish something
more permanent for me? Assimilation? Annihilation?" Will he admit it if
that is what is ahead for her? "Indoctrination?"
He flinches. Just the
smallest bit but she has learned to see that kind of thing. "You think you
can fit me into your society? On...Vulcan?"
"You are half
Vulcan."
"It is not my
dominant half."
"That is not your
doing." His eyes are full of something it takes her a long time to realize
might be compassion.
"Do not pity me.
Vulcans are weak."
"That is your
truth. Perhaps I can change it." He gets up. "Do you prefer your food
mild or spiced? I will bring you some Vulcan dishes."
She walks to the
doorway, careful not to get too close, and looks past him. "Where are the
other children?"
"In a different
place, but nearby."
"Why am I
alone?"
"You are the only
one who was armed. And you are the only one who is healthy."
"So I am punished
with confinement. You do not trust me."
"As I have
said."
She wonders what he
thinks her capable of. But, as he turns, she says, "Highly spiced."
"Excellent."
He will have to lower
the field to give her the food. Should she try to escape? She was not lying
when she said she would have no idea what to do with a ship.
But she is a fast
learner.
When he comes back, with
two trays, he puts one in a slot in the wall, never opening the field and she
feels relief rather than disappointment. She does not know what she would do if
she got out.
She is hungry so she
eats quickly. She drinks the water he has brought and he refills the bottle for
her twice.
The bottle is of a soft
material. If she broke it, it would not make a good weapon.
She sees what she thinks
is a small smile playing at his lips when she looks up. He knows what she is
thinking?
Then a door opens behind
him and a woman with dark hair comes in. She stands next to him with her hand
on his neck, and he leans into her slightly.
"Jim wanted to know
if you're coming to dinner, but I see you're not." She walks to the field.
"Hello. My name is Christine." She smiles but it is not a real one.
It does not reach her eyes. The commandant taught her to look for this. Her
mother never would have—Saavik never saw her smile even once.
"Christine is
human," Spock says. "You remember I said I was half human?"
She nods. She remembers.
"What is a human like?"
"Emotional,"
both Christine and Spock say together. Christine laughs softly and her smile
becomes genuine. "And very happy that you're free of that place."
Saavik gestures toward
the field. "I am not free. I have just been moved to a different
cell."
She looks stung.
"It's temporary."
"Is not
everything?" She can tell the woman does not know how to answer that.
Christine turns,
touching Spock again on the arm and murmuring, "Don't stay here all
night," and leaves.
"She is
your...mate?"
"She is one of
them."
She lets an eyebrow go
up. "Interesting." It makes him more vulnerable to have so many he
cares about. "A Vulcan this time?
"Another human. You
will meet him later. Possibly tonight. He is in charge
of this ship."
"You have important
associations."
"I am second in
command."
"Ah. Then it is the
woman who has mated for advantage."
He thinks about it.
"I think she would not necessarily agree." He almost smiles.
"She is a healer."
"You put it that
way so I will not equate her with the Romulan doctors who did cruel things to
us. I am not so easily manipulated."
"That is because
you are very bright."
The commandant always
told her that, and suddenly she is not hungry and pushes what is left of her
meal away. "I wish to rest."
"Then do so. There
is a privacy area behind the screen if you need to relieve yourself. Rest well,
Saavik."
She does not answer,
just goes to the bed and faces away from him.
He does not take the
tray, and it has a fork and spoon on it, so she waits for him to walk away and
then retrieves them. They will not make fine weapons, but they can be modified
to be useful. But as she lies, unsleeping, the utensils clutched in her hand,
they begin to vibrate, then disintegrate into powder.
She has no weapons and if she wishes to eat more later,
she will have to use her hands.
It is how they ate in
the camps. If Spock thinks it will be a hardship, he is very wrong. But it
annoys her that he anticipated what she would do. She must not be predictable.
Not if she wants to escape.
But escape to where? She
feels an emptiness fill her.
It is hard to have hope
when one has no home.
##
Christine
followed Jim into their quarters after lingering over dinner and possibly
having a few too many drinks in the lounge, and was surprised that Spock wasn't
in bed already. "I thought he'd be back by now."
"I'll
go introduce myself to the girl and rescue our husband." Jim kissed her
quickly, then strode off in his best "Captain of
the ship" mode.
She
sat at her desk, rubbing her neck as she tried to concentrate on the padd, but
then she heard the door open and turned, "Wow, that was fast."
Spock
raised an eyebrow.
"Oh,
it's just—I though it was both of you. Jim went to get you."
"Should
you perhaps have some antitox?" Normally he was
indulgent about drinking but tonight he sounded annoyed.
"I'm
a doctor. I think I'd know if I needed it." Which was stupid. She probably
did need it. So did Jim. But they had a nice lusty buzz on and wanted to focus
it on Spock. Was that a crime?
"I
have been meditating in guest quarters."
"You
can't meditate here?"
He
gave her a look that clearly said he was going to ignore the question.
"You said Jim went to get me...in the children's containment area? I asked
you both to give me time alone with her."
His
words were a verbal slap and she could feel herself redden, but she was still
having trouble feeling anything from him through the bond, which would usually
tell her if he was truly annoyed at her or just generally bitchy. She started
to ask about it, then chickened out.
He
was her husband—and her bondmate. Why the hell
couldn't she ask about this? If he was shutting her out, shouldn't she know
why?
But
one look at him and she knew she wouldn't push it, as he practically glared at
her. But that didn't mean she was going to just back down. "Yeah, he went
to find you. It is his ship."
Without
a word, he turned for the door, so she followed him into the corridor and to
the lift. They rode it in silence, until she asked softly, "You wish I'd
stayed in our quarters, don't you?"
"I
am unsure of the utility of your presence in this instance."
"Wow.
Okay." She took a deep breath. "Maybe I just want us to face this as
a unit. She's not just your problem."
"Is
that what you saw when you looked at her? A problem?"
"That's
not what I mean. You know what I mean, damn it." But he was already
double-timing it down the corridor toward the auxiliary sickbay and she had to
jog to keep up with him.
Jim
was standing at the force field, talking to the girl. She could tell he'd taken
some antitox by the controlled way he was smiling.
"Spock?" He glanced at her, and she gave a little shake of her head
in warning.
"I
wish I had known you wanted to meet her." Spock sounded more than
annoyed—was he angry? Why the hell did it matter that Jim wanted to meet
her—on his own fucking ship?
Jim
seemed to agree with her assessment. "I thought it was high time I met
her. And we didn't need a chaperone, did we, Saavik?"
"No,
sir." Her tone was respectful, but her eyes were wary. The kid could
clearly read a room.
"I
do not think threats are the best method."
Jim
looked confused. "Threats?"
"The
hierarchy she lived under was all consuming. Do you wish to establish yourself
in the same role as the Romulans."
Now
Jim looked mad. "Do I wish to—I'm sorry but were they in the habit
of bringing her cookies?"
Christine
realized the girl was holding a half-eaten ginger snap. "Guys, let's give
Saavik some privacy to enjoy those cookies, okay? Because they look really
good."
The
girl cocked her head, and Christine had the feeling she was being assessed and
found wanting for being the peacemaker. Yeah, well, welcome to marriage.
"Guys."
She tried to use her doctor voice—the one they
generally did not ignore.
And
they didn't this time, both finally moving into the corridor. Jim turned on
Spock the minute the door was closed. "What the hell, Spock? What did you
think I was going to do?"
"I
have formulated a strategy for reaching her. But it must not be contam—" He looked down.
"Were
you going to say contaminated? By what? A human? Or is
it just me you don't trust?"
"Jim,
you do not have experience with children."
Christine
closed her eyes. She couldn't believe Spock would say that. Not when Jim had no choice in the matter.
"And
you do? I'm sorry, is there a part of your life we're missing. Some mystery son
or daughter along with your mystery brother?" Jim got closer, the way he
did when he was truly angry. "I remember a kid we met on our first
mission. Grew up away from normal civilization. Name of
Charlie. You recall that? His parents had to take him away for our
safety."
"I
also remember a child named Miri, who you reformed.
All of those children were reformed, as I recall."
"They
had parents who cared for them before the sickness came. They weren't raised as
science experiments. Neither were the kids with their friendly angel alien. I'm
not saying Saavik is one or the other. But you have to be prepared for the
possibility that we are dealing with someone like Charlie—someone you
can't help. And you seem to be losing perspective on that."
"We
don't know which way she should go, and we shouldn't be fighting about
it." She looked at Jim, trying to get him to let it go since he seemed the
easier to convince. "But you can't shut us out, Spock. Well, maybe you can
shut me out on this if you really want to, but not Jim."
"You
wish to know what is next for her?" At Jim's nod, Spock said, "I plan
to show her the ship. I think it will help her understand the enormity of
change that is before her. The possibilities."
"Were
you going to ask me if I thought she was ready for that?"
"Keeping
her in a cell, Jim, will only reinforce what she already knows. That she is a
pawn and that adults will hurt her. Even if they come
bearing sweets."
Jim
crossed his arm over his chest. "I checked with Len, Spock. You've shown
almost no interest in the other kids. Why is this one so special?"
"She
is the commandant's child. She had...more latitude than the others. He gave her
the dagger so she would survive; she was given affection, trained to survive,
to consider his ways, not just Vulcan as the rest of the children seem to
gravitate toward. She was made to feel special and now feels...betrayed and
abandoned. He left her, left her to deal with the fallout of his actions."
"Are
we still talking about Saavik, Spock? Or your brother?"
She
looked at Jim startled that he'd bring Sybok up again. But she saw something in
Spock's expression that told her he was on to something.
Moving
slowly, afraid to do anything to light the powder keg of emotion that suddenly
seemed to be surrounding them, she got between them. "Let's go back to our
quarters." When neither moved, she said, "Please?"
Spock
stalked off first, which she considered a very good sign. She grabbed Jim's
hand and pulled him with her, so they could catch up and stand in the lift
together, Jim and she smiling at crew who got on and off during the ride. Then the short walk to their space, their sanctuary.
She
moved first, pressing against Spock, "Please let us in, Spock. Whatever
this is really about, we want to support you."
"I
believe you do, Christine." He pulled her to his side, his arm tightly
around her, and she suddenly felt like the prize he'd just claimed.
She
slipped out of his grip, using a combination of moves she'd been learning from
the self-defense trainer. It was one of her ways of getting ready for the next pon farr. She'd never be able to
out-muscle them, but there were other ways to get away if things went south
like they did the first time.
Spock
and Jim were both obviously surprised.
Then
she moved to Jim's side. Mainly because he made no move to
grab her. "Don't ever do that to me again. I'm not your
possession."
The
tension in the room ratcheted up, but she didn't care. "Furthermore, why
can't I feel you? What's wrong with the bond?" She turned to Jim.
"Can you feel him?"
"No."
He didn't sound mad, more hurt, when he reached out. "Spock, why are you
shutting us out? We want to be here for you."
"I
have told you what I need."
She
was sick of his attitude, sick of the emptiness that filled where the bond
should be, sick of seeing Jim's face register the emotional hits. "What
you need? Oh, you mean for us to butt out so our annoying human ways don't fuck
up you trying to create a perfect Vulcan out of that poor child."
Spock
turned on his heel and walked out.
"And
you were doing so well at mediating." Jim rubbed his eyes. "God damn
it, Christine. What the hell is wrong with him?"
"I
don't know." She walked to the viewscreen,
snagging some antitox from her desk on the
way—it made her feel sober but it didn't make her feel better. "Jim,
you pushed it, and you know you did. Why did you go see her alone?"
"I
went looking for him. He wasn't there. She was. I introduced myself. And I
brought cookies—that Len approved, by the goddamn
way—for all the kids, not just her. Is that a fucking crime now?" He
turned away from her and walked into the bathroom.
She
knew, if pneumatic doors could slam, theirs would be
slamming very hard.
##
Saavik is bored, even with the padds they have given her. Padds with
interactive games that she suspects are evaluating her intelligence as she
plays.
She hears the door open
but does not get up to see if it is Spock. She is not willing to show any
eagerness. To give him that much power.
And if it is one of his
mates, she does not want to give them that much respect. She is not sure why,
but she is causing problems for them. She can read it in the way they stand,
the way they talk when they are together. And she can tell by the grudging way
the captain told Spock he could take her out.
She wants out. She wants
out of this room so badly she could scream. But she suspects screaming would be
the worst thing to do if she wants to gain Spock's
trust. He is like her mother, wishing to teach her logic. Only his desire seems
rooted in emotion, unlike hers, which was rooted in some kind of cultural
pride.
She turns and sees it is
Christine who has come in. She does not think Christine will take her out so
she ignores her and goes back to playing.
"You're a clever
girl." Christine's voice is soft. Soft and low and she sits in the chair
that is Spock's and studies her.
"These games are
assessing my intelligence, are they not?"
"Maybe." She
smiles, but it seems to convey something other than happiness.
"Do you like
me?"
"I hardly know you,
Saavik? Do you like me?"
She shrugs. "You
are important to Spock. So I anticipate having to interact with you." It
is not smart to antagonize the lovers of the only person who seems to find her
pleasing, but she cannot help it. She has been in this room for too long. The
air is too cold and too stale, and no one has dropped the barrier. She is fed
and watered through a slot, like the animals the Romulans kept to butcher.
Spock has not asked her
if she eats animal flesh. She thinks he knows she must have. But every Vulcan
meal he brings her is vegetarian. He has told her the reasons not to eat
another living creature.
She finds them
unconvincing. The strong prey on the weak. It has been the core lesson of her
life.
Spock comes in and does
not appear surprised to see Christine there. He merely says to Saavik,
"Are you ready to see the ship?"
"Yes." She
ignores Christine and as soon as it is clear Spock has dropped the force field,
goes to the other side of him so she will not have to be near his mate.
If logic and things
Vulcan are so important to him, why did he marry humans? This is a mystery she
is not sure will be easily solved.
She forgets herself at
times during the tour. Marveling at the views, at the tech, at the sheer number
of people—so many different species—on the ship.
"We will save the
bridge for another day," he says, sounding...sad, and she thinks the
captain has not told him she can come up there. She understands that the bridge
is a place of command and Spock's other mate does not trust her there.
"Spock, let's get
her some ice cream. I don't know a kid who doesn't love it."
He is saying something,
when Christine puts her hand on Saavik's shoulder.
She does not stop to
think, she grabs Christine's hand and wrenches it in a way that causes a very
loud snap.
To her credit, Christine
does not cry out very loud. This is surprising.
"Saavik, why did
you do that?" Spock seems torn whether to lecture her or tend to his mate.
"I'll just get to
sickbay. Don't worry about me, Spock." She glares at Saavik then says,
"More Charlie than Miri, I think."
Saavik does not
understand the reference but it makes Spock angry, even if he barely shows it.
"Do not touch me
again," Saavik says, wanting to defy Christine. To show
support for Spock in some way.
"Don't worry, kid.
I sure as shit won't."
"Christine,
language, please."
"Here's a tip, hon'. Don't tell the lady with the broken wrist to watch
her goddamn language." And then she walks away, cradling her hand.
Spock is standing very
still. "Did you plan to hurt her?"
"No. People only
touched to hurt on Hellguard. It was...instinctual to
react."
"Do you regret
hurting her?"
She can see it is very
important that she says yes. But she does not think he will trust a quick yes.
So she considers and finally nods when she realizes she does, to some extent,
regret hurting his mate.
He seems to let out
breath he was holding and she knows she has said the right thing the right way.
##
Christine
sat in sickbay while Len worked on her wrist. "I gotta
tell you, Christine. This child is not a fan of yours."
"Not
to defend her, but I think it was more out of instinct than malice. I should
have known better than to startle her."
"She's
a kid. Having to worry that she'll hurt you should not be something that comes
up on a normal day. Or even an abnormal one. The other kids—they're far
more passive. Pleasant even, if very tentative." He scanned her wrist.
"Okay, good as new."
"Thank
you."
After
her shift, she went back to their quarters, lying on the big bed, thinking
about the last time they'd all made love. It felt like such a long time ago.
But
it had only been a few days since the little hellion had come into their lives.
It was as if Spock was turning off before their eyes.
As
if he didn't love them anymore. Which was ridiculous. He'd known this child a
hot minute.
She
was still lying there when Jim came in barreling in, clearly agitated.
She
frowned. "What now?"
"First,
is your wrist okay?"
"Of
course. Len patched me up. Did Spock tell you she hurt me?" She was
surprised he'd admit his precious protŽgŽ had fucked up that bad.
"He
did." He began to pace so she sat up so she could see his expression
better. "He doesn't want it to happen again and obviously she can't stay
here. So, when we get the kids to Vulcan, he plans to stay. To
mentor her. He's put in for a year off."
Her
stomach sank. "A year?"
"I
countered with three months. We compromised at six. And...I
want you to go with him."
"Jim,
no. He needs to stay here. With us. The Vulcans are
going to work with all the kids in some institution. That was the plan." A
plan she'd had problems with until she met Saavik.
"And
they still will. But he plans to take Saavik home. He's already talked to Sarek
and Amanda." He sighed, loudly. "Why are we not part of this?"
"Because
she hurt me." She closed her eyes in defeat. "Because he won't admit
he's wrong. You know how he is. Once he's on a path..." She swallowed
hard. "But can't Sarek and Amanda mentor her..."
"You
know better than that. He won't stay here. That kid's got him. I don't know
how. But she's wrapped him around her fingers." He pulled her to him,
nuzzling her neck as he whispered, "I'm afraid, if you
don't go with him...if you don't keep him grounded, we'll lose him. I'd
go too if I could, but the ship...I just got her back."
"He
hasn't asked me to go, Jim."
"And
he probably won't. So you'll have to push it."
She
started to protest and he shook his head. "You're very good at getting
what you want and we both know it." He followed the words with a gentle
stroke of her cheek. "You can keep him with us."
"But
without you—promise me you'll visit. As often as you can?" She
pulled away and forced him to look at her. "Jim, what if he thinks of her
as a daughter? If that's the case, we need to, too, or we will lose him."
"I
know. I don't really like her, though." He laughed, the slightly helpless
laugh that always made her nervous because she was used to him being in
control. "Do you?"
"She's
not a fan of me as evidenced by my war wounds."
"That's
not an answer."
"I
guess I'll learn to like her. Or I'll be back here sooner rather than
later." She stroked his face gently. "Tell me you don't want me to
go."
"Of
course I don't want you to go. I lived through this scenario after the Pon Farr. That you'd leave with Spock. That
I'd be alone. I still could be. Once Spock has you alone..."
"What's
wrong with you? I love you, and have no plans to become just his. And more
importantly, he loves you as much as he loves us. He's just...obsessed the same
way he was when he was helping Pike. Only this time, we know he's doing it and
we'll get out of his way."
"That
sounds like you're not going with him."
"I
will. I'll just try to be...less of a bitch." She tipped his chin up.
"I trust you to know what's best when it comes to him. But I'm also
serious that you need to get to Vulcan as often as you can. Am I making myself
clear?"
He
smiled slowly. "I love you."
"Yeah,
I know. That's why you married me." She laughed as he hiked her up onto
the dresser. "Oh, sure, turn this into sex. See if I care." But the
eager way she was pulling off her clothes gave lie to any thought of her being
not in the mood. It just felt good to be touched, to connect.
"I
need to get as much of you as I can before you're gone." He traced her
cheek as he moved against her.
She
threw her head back and rode out the high, but once she could think again, she
wondered if he was going to need Spock just as much—and worried that he
wasn't going to let himself. That he was going to let that little hellion come
between them.
As
he leaned against her, breathing hard, she murmured, "Don't shut him out,
Jim. He's not leaving you. He's just helping her."
"Semantics."
He pushed up, maintaining the connection, so she wrapped her legs around him
and pulled him in closer. "Chris, I have these dreams where he left me.
Just gone, for no reason that makes sense."
"He
didn't leave you. He'll never leave you."
"Before
we were lost. Before we were lovers. He...he spoke of a place called Gol. On Vulcan. A
place to purge emotions. He spoke of it...longingly, Chris."
She
wondered if he realized he was calling her Chris instead of Christine. He never
had before. Was he trying to make something that was just theirs? "He's
embraced emotions. He's bonded to us. He'd never do that."
"No,
he'd never do that now. But what if being on Vulcan with Saavik is appealing?
What if he doesn't want to come back?"
"Then
we make a long-distance marriage work."
"Where
would you be?"
"I'd
be on the ship. I still have a career, you know." She started to unwrap
her legs but he grabbed them, holding tight. "You want me to say I'd pick
you."
"I
want someone to pick me, yeah."
"Jim,
sweetheart, where is this coming from? He loves you so. Why are you doubting
this?"
"I
saw how happy he was when he had you to himself after the pon
farr—after I hurt you. I saw how happy you looked too, Christine."
"You
sent us away." She shook her head, feeling tears coming but not sure why
"And you're doing it again now, so don't make me go. He'll come back or he
won't, with or without me." She kissed him almost desperately. "I
won't have anything to do there. I'll just be in the way."
"You
need to go because you're right: she's probably going to be our daughter if he's as smitten as I
think he is with her. And she won't be if we're not there—she'll just be
his, and this thing that is always between us all." He sighed. "And
yes, I get that it has to be all of us, not just you and him. I absolutely need
to find any excuse to get near Vulcan." He let go of her legs. "I
just...things were so bad after the Pon Farr, but
they've been good. They have, right?"
"Yes,
they have." She kissed him as sweetly as she could. She wasn't used to
seeing him this vulnerable. "And they will be again. I'll make sure of
that. I'm your wife, too."
They
kissed for a very long time. Then he said, "You need to tell Spock you
want to come. He'll balk if he thinks it's my idea." He eased away and did
up her uniform before his own. Then he went and poured them both some scotch.
She
joined him at the viewscreen, taking the glass.
"He'll know once he melds with me that I'm lying."
"Then
don't let him meld with you till you're on Vulcan and it's too late for him to
say no. He's in full-on Dad mode. He'll do anything to protect her. Even from
us."
"He's
not Carol."
"He
might as well be." He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Letting out
bitterness that she thought probably had as much to do with David as with
Saavik. Then he held up his glass. "To you winning the little brat
over."
"To
you not thinking of her as the little brat."
"Oh,
that's my nice version." He clinked his glass against hers, his eyes
twinkling. "You'll have your hands full. I'll send a bottle with
you."
She
leaned her head on his shoulder. "Nothing says love like parting with your
best scotch."
"Amen."
##
Saavik sits between
Spock and his female mate. She can sense the tension between them and is unsure
why Christine has chosen to accompany them to Vulcan.
She thinks Spock is also
uncertain about her motive.
And Saavik knows she has
one. She is wary around Saavik, tensing every time she moves to get something
from the compartment in the seat ahead of them. As if Saavik might hurt her
again.
She thinks Spock notices
this.
Finally, Christine gets
up and says she needs something called scotch. By Spock's expression, Saavik
understands he does not approve.
"Why is she
here?" she murmurs once she is gone, so softly he can choose to ignore it
if he wishes. It is how she would ask the commandant her most difficult
questions. Sometimes, he did not answer and she would never ask again.
"She wants to be
part of your life, Saavik."
"But she fears
me."
"Yes. But she does
not know you. In time, she will not fear you."
"Do I have anything
to learn from her?" She studies his face.
"Of course. There
is a saying on Vulcan: Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations. IDIC."
"What will she,
specifically, teach me that you cannot?"
He breathes out more
audibly than usual. "Time will tell."
"In other words,
you do not know."
"That is not what I
said."
"No, but it is what
you meant." She sees Christine coming back to their seats. She has a
beverage of some kind, golden colored, and only filling a third of the glass.
Did Christine drink the rest or is this some kind of human ritual—to
leave so much of the glass empty?
But then she sees that
Christine also holds a bottle of water and another bottle of what looks like
orange juice, which she has discovered a great fondness for. She looks up at
Christine in surprise.
"He mentioned you
like it. Extra pulp and everything." She hands it over with a smile that
Saavik reads as genuine—one that also says she does not care if Saavik
drinks it or not—and sits down.
She is not currying
favor. She is merely being...kind.
Spock takes the water
without comment. Saavik studies him. He does not open his water so she is
unsure whether to open the juice container.
Finally he says,
"You may drink if you are thirsty, Saavik."
Christine looks as if
she is going to say something, to rebel, and Saavik wonders what tack she will
take, but instead she closes her eyes and breathes deeply, as if in the
meditation Spock has tried to teach Saavik. Then she reaches for her glass and
takes a long drink. There is only half the amount of liquid left.
"I suggest you
moderate—"
Christine gets up before
he can finish. She drinks the rest of the golden liquid and then says, "I
need a refill. I may be a while. The bar, at least, is friendly."
Saavik stares down at
her juice. She is thirsty and wishes to drink, but it is important to ally
herself with the most powerful person—the one who has not fled.
She slips the bottle
into the container in the seat ahead of her, where it will stay cold, and tries
not to think about how good it would taste.
##
Christine
followed Spock into his house without a word, then
pushed past him to the room she and Jim always shared with him. No way she was
going to let him stick her in some guest room because he was annoyed with her.
Amanda
followed her. "We didn't expect you. Why didn't we expect you?"
"He's
on some kind of quest with the girl. It doesn't, apparently, involve Jim or
me." She sat down and stared at Amanda. "The girl, by the way, can be
dangerous if you startle her. I found this out the hard way."
"Is
she malicious?"
Christine
thought about the way Saavik had stared at the orange juice. At how she had
made the poor child a pawn by bringing it—and she'd known she would.
"No. But I think I might be."
Amanda
sat next to her. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"I
don't know." She heard Spock coming down the hall, talking to his father.
They walked past, Saavik in tow. "Is it a nice room? Pink and full of
ponies and rainbows?"
"Hardly
the stuff of Vulcans." Amanda laughed softly. "I loved ponies."
"I
loved unicorns." She sighed. "Saavik has known neither."
"Well,
there's still time. I'm sure there are unicorns somewhere in this wide
universe." She grinned. "And ponies can be found on Earth."
"What
if he won't let ever her be a child?"
"Why
would you think that?"
"I
don't know." She felt bad for badmouthing Spock to his mom. "I'm
sorry. I'm just so tired."
"Lie
down and rest. I'm going to go meet this child that has so many people I love
twisted up in knots." She closed the door on her way out, and Christine
lay back on the bed but couldn't relax enough to sleep.
Spock
came in eventually, closing the door and studying her. "You told me you
wanted to get to know her."
"Jim
told me to tell you that." It's the wrong thing to say, and if she wasn't so tired—of travelling, of being on edge around
Saavik...and Spock—she wouldn't have said it.
"Why
would you lie to me? And if Jim wanted you here, why could he not tell
me?"
"Because
you've been acting like a stranger. Spock, I can't feel you. Through
the bond. I haven't since she stabbed you. Why? Why would you shut us
out—especially when we all nearly lost each other after the Pon Farr?"
He
moved toward her, his look finally some semblance of the tender one she was
used to. "That is behind us. We repaired the fractures that I caused us."
"You
didn't cause—"
"I
did. You and Jim would never have had to endure that but for me." He sat
down. "You are my mates. But you are also a significant distraction. There
will be times that I need to..."
"To
keep us away?"
"I
am Vulcan. When I need time, this is how I will get it. Do you think my father
has never done this to my mother?"
"I
don't know. Should I ask her?" By the look on his face, she could tell he
wasn't sure, was just saying it to give more power to his point.
She
moved closer to him, running her fingers over his hand. "Spock, I need
you. You haven't touched me in a while."
"You
should have stayed with Jim if you wanted that."
"We
can't have sex while we're here?"
He
stroked her hair. "We can. But you do not want to merely have sex. You
want me to be the man who can lose himself in you. And I will be that man
again, Christine. Nothing has changed. But at the moment, this girl is my
focus."
"Why?"
"Because
she needs me. And no one else will do. But you are not alone. You have Jim as
well as me. If you are lonely, go back to the ship." His tone was gentle.
He was not trying to be unkind.
But
still, it hurt. "This feels like the old days. When I was nothing you
wanted."
He
leaned down, so quickly it took her by surprise. His lips on hers were fierce,
his hands on her body possessive. "Do not say foolish things, my
wife." Then he was up and out of the room, and she was left wondering what
the hell Jim thought she was going to accomplish here.
Miracles, apparently. She was pretty sure she was going to
prove he was a goddamned fool.
##
Saavik likes Spock's
house. It is large and after a week of being chaperoned without incident, she
has been given free run of it. Spock's father is imposing and she knows without
being told that it is important to please him.
Spock's mother is not
imposing, but Saavik knows that this does not mean she can take advantage of
her. She can see in how Spock treats her that she is important to him.
It is Christine that
puzzles her. There are times, when Spock watches Christine, that Saavik can
clearly see she is his mate. His look is possessive and even affectionate. And
he treats her with respect. But when he works with Saavik, whether on
meditation or studies or any other thing, he seems to prefer that Christine not
be a part of that.
Saavik can tell this
does not make Christine happy. If she wanted to, if this were Hellguard and she needed to drive her off, she thinks she
could do it easily.
But this is not Hellguard and Christine brought her juice when she did not
have to.
The house is quiet now,
Spock has gone to talk to the people at the school he wishes her to attend, and
Amanda and Sarek are at some engagement. Christine is sitting in the main
salon, reading a padd.
Saavik knows there is a
bottle of golden liquid in Christine's bag because she has gone through it. She
has gone through many things in the house.
She has taken nothing.
She is not a thief. But knowing what someone values brings understanding. The
commandant taught her that. And knowing what people keep hidden is also useful
information.
She finds a glass in a
kitchen cupboard that looks like the one Christine had on the shuttle, and goes
into the room Christine shares with Spock. The bottle is no longer in the bag,
is in fact sitting on the nightstand, and Saavik studies it.
It is not full. The seal
is broken. Christine has already been drinking from it.
She opens the bottle and
sniffs, pulling back quickly as her eyes water. Her respect for Christine goes
up. The woman may avoid spicy food during meals but clearly if she can handle
this, she is more robust than Saavik thought.
She pours the same
amount Christine had on the shuttle, stoppers the bottle and sets it back where
it was, then carries the glass out to where Christine sits.
Christine starts
laughing. "I hope you didn't drink any of that."
"I did not. I
smelled it. It burns."
"Oh yeah." She
narrows her eyes. "Did you poison it?"
Saavik feels stung.
"No. Why would I?"
"To get rid of
me."
"I could break your
neck with little effort."
"Comforting
thought." Christine takes the glass from her. "Bottoms up, kid."
Saavik has no idea what
that means. Christine says many such things, and she has learned to ignore them
unless they interest her enough to ask her to explain the words.
This does not, so she
asks, "What are you reading?"
"Medical
reports."
"Whose?"
"That is none of
your business. But not yours." She seems to be studying Saavik. "Why
did you bring me this?"
"You avoid
me." She hurries to add. "And Spock keeps us apart."
"No flies on
you."
Saavik does not need an
explanation for that one. Flies were plentiful on Hellguard
and the dead were not always discovered right away. "Do you wish he did
not find me when I was hiding?"
"Not if it means
you never got found."
Saavik likes the logic
of that. "But if someone else had found me instead?"
She expects Christine to
say yes, quickly. But the woman thinks about it. "You stabbed Spock. Had
he been human, with different anatomy, you might have killed him." She
takes a sip of her drink, her expression changing not at all, despite how much
it must burn. "I am not sure what would have happened to you. You
certainly wouldn't have ended up in this house. So...I find it hard to wish
more hardship on you."
"But you would like
him back on the ship."
"Yes. Yes, I
would." She closes her eyes. "But that's selfish of me. And I know
it." She takes another sip and seems to sigh happily.
"You enjoy
that?" She edges closer. "May I taste it?"
"Baby, you'll be
sorry." But she gives her the glass. "I recommend the tiniest of
sips."
Saavik decides to listen
to her because she speaks with authority, like she does when she is doing
medical things. The liquid hits her tongue and she cannot help it, she grimaces
in a way Spock would not approve of. "I do not understand the appeal of
this beverage."
"And if you keep it
that way, Spock will be most pleased. We won't tell him you tried it."
"You would lie to
him?" Is that what marriage is?
"He won't ask. Unless you volunteer the info. Do you plan to? He may wonder
why you thought bringing me a drink was a good idea. Unless
you're trying to understand me. That was important where you grew up,
wasn't it? To know where people fit—what they were made of?"
Saavik decides not to
answer, but she meets Christine's eyes, trying to assess how much the woman
knows and how much she is guessing. Spock has told her humans often rely on
intuition rather than logical thinking. "Surviving required many
skills," she finally says.
The door opens and she
moves a few steps away from Christine. Spock comes into the room, his
expression neutral until he sees the glass in her hand.
"What?"
Christine says with a grin that is both disarming and rebellious—Saavik
admires the duality. "I can't drink around her?"
He does not answer.
Merely gestures for Saavik to follow him to the room he has turned into a
classroom. She glances back at Christine, who has taken all the responsibility
off of her. Christine does not look happy, and she smiles in a way Saavik decides
is bitter, then goes back to her padd.
Saavik can taste the
golden liquid on her breath. She grabs a mint from the bowl Amanda keeps in the
hallway. They are made from Vulcan herbs that have soothing properties, so
Spock does not berate her for the indulgence.
And does not notice the
subterfuge.
It is a weakness of his,
she realizes. Sometimes, he sees what he wants to see. She does not think
Christine, and probably their other mate, would make the same mistake.
It is a revelation.
##
Christine
found Spock in their room, packing a small bag. "Are you going
somewhere?"
"Saavik
and I are going on a retreat. We will be gone several days."
A
sound behind her made her turn; Saavik was sitting in the armchair Christine
always read in. Sitting so quietly with an expression Christine could not read.
"Hi there."
Saavik
said softly, "Hi." Again, there seemed to be a look that Christine
could not decipher.
She
decided to go with her gut and said, "Well, I'll pack a bag, too."
"You
are not going. The environment is taxing."
"Oh
and Thule was a walk in the fucking park." She saw him nearly wince at her
choice of words. "She'll need to get used to all sorts of language,
Spock."
Which
she actually didn't believe—normally she'd watch her mouth around a kid—but
he didn't treat Saavik like a kid, just a very small Vulcan.
"Christine,
please."
"What
if you need a rabbit dressed?" She could see his reaction before he said
anything. "How the hell do you know she wouldn't like some meat?" She
turned to stare at Saavik. "Were you vegetarian on the planet?"
Saavik
looked torn, as if she didn't want to lie but didn't want to disappoint Spock
either. Christine took pity on her and said, "Never mind. I withdraw the
question. He'll make you one. Whether you like it or not."
"You
will not take your anger out on her." Spock took her by the arm and turned
her toward the door. "We will discuss this when Saavik and I return."
"You
bet we will." She could tell he expected her to leave, but instead she
walked to Saavik and knelt down. "I'm not mad at you, honey. I'm usually
not mean." She gently stroked her hair, letting the tentative touch turn
into a caress and was surprised when, just for a moment, Saavik leaned into her
hand. "Be careful."
"I
am skilled in survival," Saavik said softly.
"I
know. Keep him safe, then." She met the girl's eyes, saw how much older
her gaze was—hated how much older her gaze was. "Okay, have
fun." She stood and saw that was obviously the wrong thing to say by the
near-scowl on Spock's face. "And you. Don't die out there."
Then
she strode out, trying her best not to stomp.
She
was shaking by the time she got to the door to the garden, crying by the time
she found the bench deepest into the flowers and sat down.
A
few minutes later, she heard the door open and close, and soft footsteps coming
toward her. "Oh, sweetie." Amanda sat next to her, hugging her
tightly.
"I'm
getting nowhere."
"I
don't think that's true. I think Saavik likes you."
"Yeah,
sure she does." But she thought of the look they'd shared. Was she getting
through to the girl or did she just crave some meat and Christine seemed the
likeliest person to get her some?
"You
need to go back to the ship and Jim." Amanda's tone was firm but gentle.
"I
can't leave. I'll—we'll lose him."
"You
won't lose him. You can't lose him, darling. You're bonded to him. Both of you
are to everyone's amazement, even if no Vulcan will admit to that
reaction." She rubbed Christine's back softly. "You need to realize
something that I'm not sure you've considered. This isn't about you or Jim.
It's about Sybok." She exhaled softly. "Spock couldn't save him, but
he can save Saavik. And he will, Christine. He's already made great
strides."
"Jim
did think of that. But she's not Sybok."
"Do
you think that matters?"
Christine
didn't answer, but finally shook her head.
"Darling,
you know I love you, but you're not helping here."
"So
you think I should just surrender him to her?"
"She'll
be yours, too. And Jim's. Not now, but eventually.
Come back in a month or so. I think you'll be surprised."
A
month? "No."
"Yes.
If you stay, you'll force her to choose between you two, and she'll choose
Spock—and he'll choose her, and that will kill you. I don't want that for
you or him or Jim or especially her. She needs you. She'll need Jim. She's a
child and she's never had a moment of fun. She certainly won't have it here.
That's your job, Christine—yours and Jim's. When she's tamed to Spock's
satisfaction, you and Jim will show her what fun is."
Christine
realized Amanda was crying softly. "Hey. It's okay. I'm sorry."
"No,
darling, it's not—you'll show her what love is, too. The same way I did
him. I know you will. But you can't do it if you're fighting with him. Because
you just might lose him over this. So go back to the ship. Enjoy your other
husband." She smiled with a "I can't believe
I just said that" sort of grin and wiped away her tears. "Look at me.
All sentimental. Children,
grandchildren now. She's a beautiful girl."
"She
is."
"I
said grandchildren for a reason. Do
you think you'll ever...?"
"I
don't know. We talk about it sometimes. But they don't allow babies on a
starship and we're not ready to not be together."
"I
understand." She narrowed her eyes. "And it might not be Spock's. I
didn't have an easy time conceiving."
"He's
half human. It'd be easier. And he and I can both work on making it easier. Len, too. He'll have ideas."
"Ever
the scientist. It's one reason he loves you." Her expression grew serious.
"I hope you know I would welcome your child no matter which of your
husbands the father was. I love you, not just the wife of my son. And I love
Jim, too."
"I
know. We love you, too, Amanda." She took a deep breath and let it out
slowly. "I guess I should pack."
"I
guess you should." Her hand on Christine's back didn't drop. "But
maybe not just yet. Let's enjoy the roses for a little while—it's so nice
to have you here."
##
Saavik follows Spock
through the sand even though she would rather lead. But he expects her to let
him go first, to be her teacher—in all things, not just Vulcan things.
This surprises her. She
always thought logic equaled wisdom, but he was not
wise in dealing with Christine. He humiliated her.
She has seen so many
humiliated in her time—has experienced it herself—that she could
nearly feel the pain coming off the human woman.
She felt...she felt bad
for her. Sorry. She tried to show her that, by leaning in when Christine
stroked her hair.
Spock never does that,
but his mother does. His mother seems to expect nothing of her except to try
new foods and discover what she enjoys and what she does not. When Amanda
smiles, Saavik feels something hard go down inside her.
She likes to follow her
around the rose garden. The smell is lovely and it is where Amanda is happiest.
Happiness is such a
foreign idea. Much like the new foods. She finds she cannot get enough of
either of them.
She wishes that
Christine was happier. She thinks she would be nice to
follow around, too.
"Saavik, keep
up." Spock's voice is firm but gentle.
She thinks he cares for
her. She is not sure why she does, but she does not question it. Unlike some on
Hellguard who pretended to be her friend because of
the way the commandant treated her, Spock has nothing to gain by feigning
affection. She is worth nothing to him and still he wants her company.
It is strange. But reassuring.
##
Christine
walked slowly down the corridors after beaming aboard, and paused in front of
the door to their quarters, taking a deep breath, trying to throw off the anger
she felt, anger that had grown the farther she'd gotten from Vulcan. Finally,
she gave up and palmed the door open.
Jim
was at the desk working. He looked around, clearly not sure who was walking in.
She
hadn't commed him, had been afraid he'd tell her to
stay. "Surprise."
He
was up and to her so quickly it surprised her, pulling her close. "Is
Spock with you?"
"No.
No, he's not." She could hear defeat in her voice, but if she couldn't
share it with him, who could she share it with?
"Amanda told me to come home."
He
started to bristle and she shook her head. "No, she was right. I was
just...fighting with him. It wasn't helping Saavik. Or our marriage." She
pulled him closer. "Could you kiss me please? I feel slightly unloved
right now."
"You're
definitely not unloved here." He took her bag from her shoulder and set it
down, then drew her to the bed. But he didn't undress her, just urged her onto
it and pulled her in close. "God, I missed you."
"Me
too." She tapped her lips. "Kisses. Now."
"Tyrant."
But he kissed her. Very nicely, very thoroughly, and she held on to him almost
frantically. "Chris, are you okay?"
"I'm
just so mad at him."
"Does
he know you're gone?"
"If
he's back from his walkabout in the desert with Saavik, he does." She
rolled her eyes. "Amanda made me leave a note. Even helped me write it
since mine was basically just 'Fuck you.'"
He
started to laugh.
"It
was way nicer in her words. All about trust and giving him space blah blah blah." She pushed her
head against his shoulder. "But I like my version better."
"I
do, too." He sighed. "So, we just wait?"
"In
Amanda's shiny happy world, you and I show Saavik love and fun. Once Spock gets
done making a Vulcan out of her."
"She's
a child of two worlds just like him."
"Well,
let's hope he remembers that." She stretched out, feeling herself relax
finally. "I was lying in bed next to him and he was just so shut down. We
never melded—he didn't want to so we never had sex either, because I
wanted more." She sighed. "We're a distraction right now. That's why
we can't feel him. But...after having the bond, it's so weird to feel..."
"Nothing.
I know."
"I'm
angry with him but then I'm angry at myself because he's doing this to help a
little girl who's been through hell. I feel petty. But I'm...pissed and hurt.
And I can't tell anyone."
"You
can tell me and I can tell you. And we can work it out so when he comes
back—"
She
made a face.
"No,
Chris, when, not if, he comes back.
When he does, then we won't sandbag him with all our angst. We'll be ready for
him."
"And
Saavik. Because she's not going away."
"Do
you want her to?" He watched her so intently, in a way she'd missed with
Spock being so focused on Saavik.
"I
actually don't. I think, at the end, we were connecting."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah.
I think there might be a nice little girl under all that armor." She
studied him, afraid to break the mood, but finally have to speak. "Can I
ask you something?"
"You
have to ask?" He leaned back, arms behind his head.
"What's
with calling me Chris?"
"You
don't like the name?" He glanced over at her.
"No,
I love it actually. But you've never called me that. You and Spock always call
me Christine."
"Maybe
I don't want it that way anymore. Maybe I need it not to be that way
anymore."
"Fair
enough. I think you've got months to get over that." She smiled and rolled
so she could snake her arm over his chest.
They
lay in silence for a moment, then she asked,
"What if he doesn't come back, Jim? What if he decides we're too much of a
distraction?"
"Then
we'll divorce him and be with each other." He tipped her chin up so she
was looking at him. "I mean it, Chris. I'm not just with you because
you're part of the package. But it's kind of immaterial because he's coming
back. I know him. He's...hell bent right now but he'll come back when he's
ready."
"Amanda
agreed with you, that it's because he sees his brother in Saavik—the
chance to save him through her. That this is something deep inside him that was
never resolved, and we need to understand that. But we're his...loves. I want
to share his pain."
"We're
human, Chris. Maybe...maybe this is where we allow him to be Vulcan and not
share. Even if we don't like it."
"You're
wise, Captain Kirk."
"And
you're beautiful, Mrs. Kirk."
She
laughed. "I think you're Mister Chapel, buster."
"Fine.
But did you catch the beautiful part. Because while we're being reasonable and
giving Spock his space"—he grinned in the way she
loved—"we're going to make love like there's no tomorrow."
She
started to laugh. "We will, huh?" But she rubbed his chest, to show him she liked the idea.
"Oh,
yeah." He started to laugh, too. "I may wear some of his clothes
while we do it. Or maybe spread his robes out and screw on top of them. The
mother of all wet spots waiting for him."
She
was laughing harder, almost hysteria, she knew. Relief after
trying to be reasonable and loving and supportive. "Can we just do
it on the bed tonight? I don't have the energy for enhanced sexual
vengeance."
"Lightweight."
He nuzzled her neck as he began to slip her clothes off. "Let's just enjoy
this time. I've never had you all to myself like this."
She
reached up and touched his cheek gently. "It's okay to miss him,
Jim."
"Does
that mean you're not going to enjoy this?" He finished making her naked as
she smiled. "Ah, so you think you might?"
She
nodded.
"Are
you going to take my clothes off?"
"Nope.
Punishment for sending me away in the first place. You
can take your own goddamn clothes off tonight. And make it snappy,
Mister."
"Aye
aye, sir." He had his clothing off in record
time and moved between her legs, kissing down and down and...
"Oh,
God, yesssssss."
He
was inside her before she'd even come all the way down, taking her almost
violently, but he was watching her face, as if this might remind her of the Pon Farr so she dug her nails into his arm and said,
"It's okay. Let go. I understand."
And
he did. And she did. And when it was over and he lay breathless in her arms, he
whispered, "I love you so much. I'm sorry I sent you away. Should have
kept you here for myself."
"It'll
work out," she murmured as she stroked his back the way he liked. "It
has to. I don't want to divorce him."
"Me,
neither." He played with her hair, watching her, and she wondered what he
saw. "Do you want to have a baby?"
"Someday,
yeah. Not tonight, though, okay?"
He
chuckled. "Okay. Do you want to have my
baby is I think what I'm asking."
"Wow,
when you mark your territory, you go all the way." She studied him.
"I always thought that, when we were ready, I'd just go off the contraceptives
and one of you would make me pregnant."
"Are
the odds in my favor? Hybrids are generally sterile."
"They
are. He's not, though."
His
eyebrows went up.
"He
never asked me to check, Jim. I would have told you if he had. But I was
curious back in my stalker days. We had plenty of readings on him."
"Of
course you did. Sorry, I didn't mean to get jealous."
She
smiled gently. "When we're ready to not all be stationed together—or
be on Earth or some planet together—then we can talk baby-making strategies.
Until then..."
He
nodded.
"Is
this about David? Spock gets a daughter and you can't even see your son?"
He
looked away, the way he did when something hit too deep. But he nodded because
he never evaded totally. It was something she loved about him.
"I
think that's a normal reaction on your part." She gently pulled him back
to her so she could kiss him.
"I
probably shouldn't have asked about the baby. Don't tell him what I said."
He looked so disappointed in himself she kissed him slowly until she felt his
lips turn up into a smile.
"It's
just between us. So, life of the party that you are, if you were going to show
a little girl who's never, ever had any fun, the time of her life, where would
you start?"
"An
amusement park. Roller coasters."
"Isn't
that a bit scary?"
"She's
half Romulan, Chris."
"Good
point. Well, I would take her to the beach. Or the lake I grew up on, maybe
rent a boat and go tubing?"
"I
love wake-boarding." He nodded quickly. "Horseback riding would be
good—at my uncle's place in Idaho. Usually little girls love
horses."
"That's
true. And I would introduce her to Len's barbeque."
"Mmmm. But meat?"
"I
think that poor kid is dying for a steak."
He
laughed. "Oh, man, the possibilities to corrupt her are almost infinite.
Spock is going to be so mad at us."
"We
could teach her to gamble and drink."
"Smoke
and skip class." He was laughing as he pulled her on top of her. "You
control the pace this time."
She
moved so they were together then found a rhythm they both seemed to like. And
it was slow and sensual, nothing frantic or angry this time.
They
fell asleep trying to outdo each other in ways to bring fun into Saavik's life.
##
Saavik hates how much
older she is than her classmates, but Spock has insisted she start at the level
she tested, and while the commandant taught her advanced survival skills and to
read and write in Romulan, she was behind in every academic subject. Even her
Vulcan was accented, something she had never realized until her classmates
stared at her when the teacher told her to introduce herself.
She thought the older
kids, the ones her own age, would be more accepting. But they look at her with
disdain. She is not sure where to go when it is time for private contemplation
outside so she walks down a path that leads to some benches. She does not look
back but she can hear some students following and talking about her.
Suddenly, a small rock
hits her back and she whirls, reaching for the dagger the commandant gave her.
A dagger that, of course, is no longer there.
Four boys and a girl
stand behind her. They are perfectly poised.
"Who did it?"
"A true Vulcan
would be able to determine that from the trajectory of the rock." The
girl's voice is cold, like Saavik's mother's voice always was. She turns and
walks back to the building, the boys following her.
"Wow, they hate you
more than me."
She turns and sees an
older boy watching her. Human. With hair the color of the chamomile Amanda favors
for tea, hair that curls in a way she has never seen. "They
are Vulcan. They do not hate."
"They just say they
don't. They clearly do." He studies her. "You look different than
them. Not sure how, though."
"That is highly
imprecise." But he has taken her by surprise that he can tell she is not
like the others. She has worked so hard, hard enough to fool a human, if not
her Vulcan classmates.
"It is. My mom
would ask me what I based that theory on." He grins. "Come sit."
"Your mother is
human, too?" She sits next to him on the bench he has chosen,
so far away from the others that it is clear he is rejecting them, not the
other way around.
"Human, yeah."
He starts to laugh. "Really intense though. Could be Vulcan."
"And your
father?"
"Is not here."
He looks down, his face changing, looking unhappy the way Christine did when
she was here. "She doesn't talk about him."
"Do you know
him?"
"I know who he is.
I've never met him. Can we talk about you instead?"
"My mother is dead.
My father...abandoned me."
He frowns. "I
thought you were Spock's kid."
"He is my guardian,
not my father."
"My mistake."
He smiles and splits the orange he is holding. "Want some?"
Her lunch is back in the
school and she does not relish going past that girl and the boys to get it.
"Thank you."
"Yeah, no big
deal." He studies her. "So you are different, aren't you?"
"I am half
Romulan." She whispers it.
"Wow." He
sounds...impressed rather than repelled.
It is not the reaction
she expected. "My name is Saavik."
"David Marcus. It's
really nice to meet you." His smile lights up his face, the way Amanda's
does hers.
Saaviks finds herself smiling back before
she can think better of it. "Do not tell them I did that."
The them is clear; he looks over at the other kids and makes a face
that amuses her.
"Not a
problem." He digs around in his lunchbox, then holds out a piece of
something thin and brown. "You like jerky?"
"I do not
know."
"It's meat. I know
how you Vulcans don't ea—"
She grabs it and bites
into it. It is salty and a little tough but so satisfying.
"Let me guess.
Don't tell them about this either?"
She nods. He grins and
hands her another piece and tells her all about the science experiment he is
working on. He is only three years older than she, but exceptionally far ahead
academically. But he does not put on the airs of her Vulcan schoolmates, and
she finds herself smiling more than she probably should.
She decides she does not
care.
##
Christine
is sitting with Ny and Jan in the lounge when Jim comes in. He turns and finds
her, smiling before going to talk to some new crewmen.
"So
does the bond thing work without Spock here? We're not sitting in our normal
place but he just knew."
"Nope.
He just knows." She didn't feel like explaining that Spock had distanced
himself psychically. It sounded too dire and he'd been lighter on the comms, more his old self. Saavik was doing well in school,
and he was clearly relieved as well as proud.
"Well,
he's headed this way and IÕm not in the mood for you to be yanked off to the
dance floor," Ny said with a laugh, then smiled up at him in the way that
always meant an edict was coming. "Jim, sit. Your wife is not going to go
dance with you."
"Bossy,
bossy," Jan muttered, laughing silently.
"I
know them." She motioned to the chair next to her. "You can have her
eventually."
"Jan's
right. When did you get so bossy?" he asked with a laugh but he did what
she said. "You okay with this, Chris?"
"I'm
not gonna argue with her."
"So
we're going to be at Vulcan soon, right?" Jan was watching Jim carefully,
as if unsure if she should be asking about Spock.
But
he smiled. "We are. We'll get to see how much progress Spock has made with
our girl."
Christine
smiled. They'd been working on that, thinking of Saavik as theirs. The fact
that they had a list of fun "firsts" for Saavik to experience—a
list that took up five screens of the shared family padd—showed how much
they'd been thinking of it.
Ny
smiled. "That's nice. Parents with no effort on your part." Then she
frowned. "I don't mean I think Spock's doing all the heavy lifting."
"Well,
he pretty much is." Jim's smile was tighter though. He was missing Spock
as much as she was, even if they were enjoying each other tremendously.
A
piece of them was missing. And the longer it was gone,
the more it hurt.
"You two going to do anything special on Vulcan?" Jim asked.
"Uh,
stay on the ship." Jan mock shuddered. "It's too hot, the air's too
thin, and there are no bars."
"An
apt summation," Christine said with a laugh.
"I
want to go to a concert. It's a group who specialize in ancient Vulcan chants.
Harmonies for days," Ny said. "I'll drag her with me."
"You
played me their stuff. I don't like it."
"You
fell asleep to it just fine. Woke up in a good mood, too."
Jim
caught her eye. "Are you two...?"
"A
couple?" Ny laughed. "We decided to quit trying to recreate what you
guys have with Spock and focus on the part of our trial threesome we actually
liked. Being together."
"Which
means there's no dumb guy to stick with 'Accompany Ny
to boring concert' duty." Jan sounded put out, but her smile when Ny
pouted was very sweet.
"Awww." Christine put her hand over her heart.
"That's really cute."
"Oh,
shut up. We'll never out-cute the three of you. Especially when you add an
adorable child. Well, cute provided Spock gets that dagger away from her. Won't
be so cute if she stabs you two to death in your sleep."
Ny
punched her softly in the arm but Jim laughed. "Never change,
Janice."
"Don't
intend to."
"Should
I have known that you two are together?" Christine asked. Was she that
friend, so involved in her own romance that she never noticed what was going on
around her?
"Nyah. We kept it on the down low until we figured out if it
was going to work. But we like it." Jan gave her the easy smile that meant
she wasn't just saying something.
"I
kind of love her." Ny grinned.
"What's
this kind of shit?"
"You
see what I put up with?" Ny rolled her eyes. "Maybe we should hit the
dance floor. We haven't danced in public yet, snookums."
She said the endearment so sarcastically it made Christine and Jim burst out
laughing.
"That's
because we can't figure out who should lead, sugarfoot."
Jan batted her eyelashes.
"You
can work out who leads while you're out there. I want to dance with my
wife." Jim pulled her up, not waiting to see if the other two would come
or not.
But
they did. And they looked nice dancing together.
"You're
thinking how you'd like to be in the middle of that, aren't you?" Christine
laughed at his expression.
"Little
bit, yeah." He pulled her closer. "Actually, I'm thinking how both of
us can be."
"Don't
even."
"A
guy can dream." He batted his eyelashes the way Jan had and laughed when
she tried to mock hit him with her free hand. "Fine. Fine. I guess I've
got enough on my hands between you and our absent husband."
"We'll
see him soon. I can't wait." She kissed his cheek as she said it.
"But I love this, too. This is what you two had when I was on Earth, isn't
it?"
"Nope.
He and I never danced." He pulled away a little. "He and I were
hiding it, if you recall. So, my dear, you can let go of that resentment.
You've had more of me."
"It's
not resentment. It's just our history." She relaxed into him. "It's
just who we are."
##
Saavik opens the door of
the house carefully, unsure if she is supposed to bring guests home. "Come
in but be quiet," she says to David. She listens for him behind her. She
let her guard down that first day at school because she assumed Vulcans would
not hurt her. She will not make that mistake again.
"Oh, hello,
sweetheart." Amanda looks up from the main salon and gives her a brilliant
smile. "Who's your friend?"
"Is it all right if
he is here?"
"Of course."
She gets up and walks to them, slipping her arm around Saavik's shoulder.
"And young man, you are...?"
"David Marcus. It's
nice to see another human."
"I quite
understand. Are you two hungry? I was just fixing tea."
"I'm always hungry,
ma'am."
"So polite. Your
mother raised you right."
"She had to. No one
else to do it."
Saavik shares a look of
sympathy. Then she hears the familiar cadence of Spock's footsteps and turns.
But he is looking at
David in what is almost shock. "You are Carol Marcus's son."
"Yes, sir. And you
are very famous." He looks down. "And a friend of my father's, if
what my mother told me is right."
"It is more complex
than that. Does your mother know you're here?"
"Sure. She's
thrilled I've found a Vulcan friend." His smile is more subdued than
Saavik is used to—as if he wants to impress Spock.
"But does she know
specifically where you are."
Saavik feels like she is
missing something. She looks at David's face and sees no similar confusion.
"No, sir. Coming
here was my idea."
"He said he wanted
to see the house." She tries to keep emotion out of her voice. Spock will
appreciate that.
"I believe he
wanted to see me, Saavikaam. You see, he is Jim's son."
All their interactions
replay in her mind, all the things he has said about his father. She backs
away. "You lied to me."
"I didn't. And
meeting you was fate, not planned. I really do like you. But your guardian
knows my father, so it was win win."
"And how like your
father you sound, David." Spock shakes his head slightly. "I believe
your mother prefers you stay away from your father—and his
associates."
"Prefers? More like
demands." He moves closer. "Sir, I just want to know what he's
like."
Spock is very still for
a long moment. Then he nods, and she hears him murmur something about fate but
thinks he said it too low for David to catch. "He will be here tomorrow.
Perhaps you can find out for yourself what he is like."
David's smile is
immediate, but it is also...calculated. Did he use her? Is this no different
than how it was on Hellguard?
She turns and leaves him
with Spock, finding Amanda in the corridor between the main salon and the
kitchen.
"I heard," Amanda says, her voice solemn. "Don't be sad,
darling."
"I thought he liked
me." She sounds...weak and stupid. The commandant would laugh to see this
side of her.
"He does like you,
but sometimes what we want and who we know...coincide."
"He will say it was
efficient. Gain a friend. Take advantage of her connections. He likes to say:
'No harm, no foul.'"
"It's a handy
saying, that's for sure." She strokes her hair gently.
Saavik wishes she had
her dagger. Not to use on Amanda, of course. Or even on David. Just to feel
strong again.
Hellguard was hard, but the rules were simple. Here...there are so
many ways to hurt someone without drawing a single drop of blood. "I'm
going to go for a walk. To...collect my thoughts. I am
overly...emotional."
"I won't tell him
where you've gone. But don't throw him away for this, dear. Sometimes friends
do stupid things but for good reasons."
Saavik nods and leaves
quietly because Spock has taught her Vulcans do not shout. She walks softly and
slowly. Until she gets to the desert just beyond their
enclave. And then she runs until she is past the range of Vulcan
hearing.
And she screams. For a very long time.
##
Christine
stood on the transporter pad next to Jim. He looked at her, his smile a little
nervous as he told the transporter tech to beam them down to Vulcan.
The
transporter station was in the middle of town, but Spock had sent a flitter for
them and they recognized the driver. Jim followed her into the back seat of the
flitter, taking her hand once they were seated.
"Nervous?"
"Yes.
Stupid, huh?"
"We
haven't seen him in months. And... No, it's not
stupid. But you're excited, too. I know you're getting sick of just me."
He
laughed at that. "Right. That's going to happen."
"Could.
Isn't likely, but could." She took a deep breath as Spock's house came
into view.
He
was waiting for them. Nearly at the door. She smiled
at how eager he looked.
"Hey,
stranger," Jim said, his voice shy but wanting.
They
had the foyer to themselves so Spock pulled first Jim, then her, into an
embrace, kissing them each soundly. "I have missed you. My husband. My
wife."
"Ditto."
Jim peered past Spock. "How is Saavik doing?"
"Extremely
well. But there is someone else you need to see first." He gestured for
them to follow him to the back courtyard.
"Don't
tell me you think we're going to add another person to our
arrangement—" Jim went silent as he looked out the windows.
She
frowned and followed his gaze. Sarek and Amanda sat in the shade. Saavik and a
human boy were doing something with a tricorder.
"Is
that...?" Jim's voice was ragged.
"It
is. He wants to meet you." Then he turned to her and mouthed, "David."
"Ohhhhhhh," she mouthed back.
"Come."
Spock opened the door to the courtyard, holding it for them.
Amanda
got up to hug them. Sarek stood but, to no one's surprise, didn't offer an
embrace.
"David,"
Spock said. "Your father is here."
The
words hung between them all. David turned, his gaze appraising. Then he handed
Saavik the tricorder and got up, walking toward them.
"David,
how...?"
"Mom's
working on Vulcan. She'll kill me if she finds out I'm here. She thinks I'm
touring a museum on the far side of the planet with my new Vulcan friend."
He looked toward Saavik. "I wanted..." He looked down, a flush
spreading down his cheeks to his neck. "I wanted to meet you because
you've never come around."
She
could tell Jim wasn't going to badmouth Carol, so she said softly, "Your
mother made it clear he couldn't."
Jim
glared at her, but she saw approval in Spock's expression.
"Maybe
we can talk?" Jim sounded so tentative. "Take a walk, get some
privacy?"
"Yeah.
I'd...I'd like that."
They
walked away and as they passed Saavik, she looked up and watched them go. Then
she turned away, moving to a bench far away, her back to them, looking like she
was meditating. So still, but not the predatory stillness of before.
"She
thinks David used her," Amanda said softly.
"Perhaps
because he did," Sarek said, his voice disapproving. Christine suspected
he too had fallen under Saavik's spell.
"I
have had no luck in consoling her. Perhaps you might try," Spock sounded
as tentative as Jim had. He put his hand on her arm. "I believe you will
know what to say."
"Giving
me a lot of credit."
"The
action is past due, is it not?"
She
smiled and touched his arm gently. "Here goes nothing." She made sure
to kick stones as she walked; she didn't want to appear to be sneaking up on
Saavik. When she got to the bench, she asked, "May I sit?"
"You
may." Saavik's voice had lost the savage roughness of before. She sounded
like...she sounded like a Vulcan.
But
it wasn't that big a surprise. Adaptability had no doubt been an important
survival mechanism on Hellguard.
"When
I was younger, in University, I was engaged—betrothed—to a powerful
man at the school."
Saavik
didn't look up but she was clearly listening. "Did you care for him? Or
was he only attractive because he was powerful?"
"I
loved Roger, but that's not the point." She laughed. "Can I make my
point?"
"Yes.
I am sorry I interrupted."
"It's
okay. Anyway, a student befriended me. But it was to get to Roger. To get him to be his advisor. As soon as he had that, he
grew too busy to spend any time with me."
"But
if you were a powerful man's woman, would that not be dangerous? To offend
you?"
"You'd
think, wouldn't you? But no. Roger had a way of
attracting..." She sighed. "I told him the guy used me. He didn't
care. I thought he was good to me back then, but since I've been with your
father and Jim, I realize he wasn't all that nice to me. Not really. Does that
make sense?"
"My
father was the commandant of the camps. I thought he cared for me. And then he
left me there to die."
"They
probably knew they'd been discovered. That we were coming.
He did leave you with food, right?"
She
seemed to think about it. "It was sufficient for the time between their
departure and your arrival."
"So
maybe he was looking out for you." Christine took a chance and ran her
hand down Saavik's hair. "So soft," she murmured.
"That
feels good." Saavik looked off into the distance, as if she had said
nothing.
"It's
natural to be mad at David. He did use you. But he used you not to advance
himself but because this may be the only time he gets to meet Jim, his father.
I think you need to give him a pass."
"A
pass for what?"
Chapel
laughed. "It's a saying. Let it go. Move on. Forgive. Surely you enjoy his
company. He's a good companion, right?"
"He
made me feel safe at school."
Christine's
heart ached for the girl. "Are they cruel?"
"They
are. But I am more dangerous." She held herself upright, imposing and wild
for just a minute. Then it faded. "I am dangerous on a world where that
gets me nothing."
"I
know."
"Spock
says to ignore them. He grew up with cruelty, too, from his classmates."
"Spock
isn't you. His advice may be excellent for one born here. But ignoring enemies
would get you killed on Hellguard, wouldn't it?"
Saavik
stared up at her, as if shocked at her insight. Then she nodded.
"Fortunately,
you're not on Hellguard. But I know being picked
on—or ignored—can still hurt. I say, if these children won't accept
you, that's their loss." She kept stroking Saavik's hair.
The
girl didn't say anything, but she leaned hard into her hand. They sat in
silence for a few minutes, then she asked very softly,
"Did you leave because of me?"
"I
left because I was getting in the way of your journey. He's my husband and I
was mad at him—all the time. It was better to go back to Jim and let you
and Spock take your time getting where you needed to go. But I'm sorry if you
thought I didn't like you."
"It
is nice having you back."
Christine
smiled, unaccustomed to this softer version of the girl she'd left. "It's
nice to be back."
##
Saavik watches Spock as he sits with Jim and Christine. They are not touching
but he looks...happy. Somehow they are all bonded. The children at school do
not understand. They talk about it at times in disparaging ways.
But other times she
hears wonder, now that she knows what to listen for. To mine the monotone for
clues to how they are feeling. Spock has done something no one else has ever
done in bonding with them both.
And it is not the first
time. He is both famous and infamous. She realizes he took her in not caring
what the others would think.
It makes her think more
of him. It makes her feel an affection that on Hellguard
would be dangerous. But here...
"Saavik. Come here,
kiddo." Christine has begun to talk to her as if there was never any
distance between them.
She has decided to
respond in like manner. She goes to where she is sitting between Spock and Jim.
Christine holds up a round thing that looks a bit like one of Amanda's
bracelets.
"I found this at
the store. The other girls wear their hair up using this. Do you want to try
doing that?"
It would never occur to
Spock to offer this to her. And she thinks Amanda is in no hurry to make her
conform to Vulcan ideals. But Christine is right: all the girls wear their hair
up, and Saavik would put hers up as well if she knew how to do it in a way that
did not end up falling down the moment she moves too fast. It is not that she
wants to be like them; it is that being like them will help her survive here.
Adapting is not surrender. Her mother told her this once in a rare moment of
warmth, just before she died.
Saavik realizes she
feels more for Amanda and Christine, even after this short time, than she ever
did for her mother.
She sits cross legged, leaning against Christine's legs, and lets her
brush her hair and then work it up and off her neck. The thing the girls use is
a circle of prickly mesh. It holds the hair in as Christine folds and twists
and Saavik feels surprise at that. She thought the girls just did not move
enough to disturb their hair—not that they had this device to help
them...cheat.
Finally Christine
finishes and she leans down, her hands warm on Saavik's shoulders and whispers
in her ear, "Go look and tell me what you think. It's my first time, but I
used to sport some pretty elaborate hairdos back in my younger days. Nice to
know I still have the touch."
"Come with
me?" It is out before she can call it back.
"Of course."
Christine lifts her up then follows, her hand on Saavik's neck, cool and gentle
as they go in the house. Christine takes her into the room she shares with
Spock and Jim rather than the small room Saavik is in. There is a full-length
mirror and Saavik stops, shocked at how she looks.
She looks...Vulcan. Until she smiles. A huge smile.
"You like it,
then?" Christine is smiling too.
Saavik does not think.
She turns and hugs Christine tightly.
"Oh, sweetie. Such
small things." Christine crouches down and pulls her tighter. "I'm
here. Whenever, whatever. All right?"
She nods, really fast
because she realizes she is crying. She is not supposed to. Vulcans do not.
But Romulans do. And she
is half that.
She pulls away and sees
that Christine is crying, too.
"What a pair of
saps we are, huh?" Christine wipes her eyes, then Saavik's. "Go show
Amanda."
She turns and sees Spock
and Jim at the door. Jim is smiling broadly and Spock is watching the two of
them with a look she has never seen on his face. It is more than approval. It
is more than determination. It is even more than simple affection.
She thinks... She thinks
it might be love. Not just for this woman who is his wife but also for her.
"You look very
nice, Saavikaam." He moves so she can get
through the doorway and then walks into the room to Christine.
Jim touches her shoulder
as she goes by, and when she looks up, he says, "You look gorgeous,
Saavik."
Amanda has told her it
is human to say thank you, so she does, and his smile grows wider. Then he
moves in to join Spock and Christine.
She stops to listen once
she is out of sight of the door and can tell they are kissing. David has
explained kissing to her. He explains many things she cannot ask Spock or his
parents about, but she thinks maybe she can ask Christine some of these things.
Perhaps Jim, too.
She finds the sound of
their affection comforting. She pats her new hairdo and tries to bite back a
smile but fails, so she goes to find Amanda to show her what Christine did.
##
Christine
watched Saavik and David as they sat at the kitchen table. David was tutoring
Saavik. Christine wasn't sure in what, but she seemed eager to suck up any
knowledge she could get. And she seemed to have forgiven him for using her. Probably because he clearly enjoyed spending time with his father.
The
chime went off, announcing someone at the front door, and she went to get it
since Spock and his parents were out, but Jim was already on the way so she
stopped in the hall.
He
barely had the door open before Carol Marcus stormed in. "Where is
he?"
"Carol,
hold on." Jim reached out but she shrugged away.
She
clearly thought Christine would move and had to stop to avoid running her down
when she didn't. "David, get out here."
He
came, but not fast. Saavik was behind him.
"We're
leaving."
"Carol—"
Jim had his best "Calm the angry aliens" look on, but it was not
working on her.
"We
had an agreement, Jim. You wouldn't stay so you don't get him. You've honored
that for thirteen years. Why not now?"
"Because
I tricked my friend to get to Spock." David stepped forward. "I hurt
someone I cared about just so I could find out what my father was like."
He stared at her, his anger plain. "I didn't know I'd get to meet my dad.
I just wanted to hear about him. But then he was coming and how could I not?
You've taught me to be curious. You've taught me to solve for the unknown. But then
you expect me to live with this huge gap in my life. I can't. I won't."
He
stopped, as if shocked he was talking to her like this. "I've done what
you want when it comes to school. I always do what you want. But this time I
don't care about your agreement. I get to choose. And I want to get to know
him. And Spock and Christine. I want to spend time with them, too." He
looked quickly at Jim, and Christine realized he'd probably never told him he
wanted this.
"And
we want to get to know him," she said, filling the silence. "He's
helped Saavik so much. She was...lost." She hoped Saavik wouldn't
contradict her, because appealing to Carol this way was probably the best way
to get her to relent. "He's such a good example. And he's teaching her so
much. Science. Math. She's behind, Carol. She lived on
a world where she was the experiment. There was no education. There was no
future for her. But now she has one."
She
saw that hit home. Carol looked at Saavik, who Christine was amazed
to see was doing a creditable job of looking helpless. Big faker.
"Carol,
I'm still on a ship." Jim was talking carefully, obviously not wanting to
lose the advantage Christine and Saavik and his son had given him. "You
won't have to see us that often. Only Saavik is staying on Vulcan. But I'd like
to get to know my boy. I really like what I know so far about him. He's a
credit to you."
"He
really is," Christine echoed, trying to look a
little star struck, woman to woman and scientist to scientist.
Carol
rolled her eyes. "Oh for God's sake. Do you think I can't see when I'm
being worked? I lived with Jim Kirk before you did, toots." But she took a
deep breath, and the difference in the atmosphere in the room was immediate.
"I expect you home for dinner, young man. You can bring Saavik if you
want. I'm making Indian. I bet she's never had that." Then she walked to
the door and left.
They
all just stood, David looking the most unbelieving. "I never win an
argument with her."
"Well,"
Jim said, "you had the two of us on your side."
"Three,"
Saavik said, looking not one bit helpless anymore.
Jim
started to laugh. "Right. My mistake. Little minx." The approval was
so clear in his voice that Saavik smiled slightly. "I'll remember what a
good actress you are."
She
inclined her head in a perfectly Vulcan way.
He
just laughed. "Come on, you two. Show me what you're working on."
Christine
wasn't sure she'd ever heard him sound so...content. Fatherhood clearly suited
him.
##
Saavik finds the house
so quiet without Jim and Christine. Spock is still here, and she knows he is
making a sacrifice—not professional but personal—by staying with
her. She walks down the hall to his room and knocks. She hears him call,
"Come," and enters, standing at the doorway, watching him work on his
padd.
He turns to look at her.
"Saavikaam, are you all right?"
She nods and walks to
him. "Do you miss them?" She wonders if he will indulge her. He has
spent so many hours explaining Vulcan ways to her; will he now venture into
human?
"I do." He
motions for her to sit on the bed so she does. "Do you?"
"Yes. Is
that...acceptable? For a Vulcan to miss someone?"
His expression is so
soft. "Affection—love, even—are not solely human things. Or
Romulan. Do you think my father loves my mother?"
"I do." She
does not have to think hard about this. She sees it in the way Sarek watches
Amanda, in the way he looks out for her, the way his eyes grow tender as she
teases him.
"He is fully Vulcan
and still he feels such things." He looks very light. "I think all
creatures are driven to seek out connections. Even a machine—an
enormously powerful mechanism—wanted to know..."
"Love?"
"Indeed."
She thinks about that.
"Why did you rescue me, Spock? Not just from the planet, but bringing me here,
into your family? Leaving your mates for me? Why?"
"Because you are
worth it. Because, for whatever reason, when you and I first met, we understood
each other, did we not?"
She nods. She can
remember the feeling. The strange, almost horrible, feeling
of wanting to believe in him.
It does not feel
horrible now.
He is sitting very
still, his fingers steepled, as if he is considering something important.
"It is also possible that I needed to help you. For
myself. To fill a hole I was not aware was inside me."
She moves closer since
he is speaking very softly.
"I have a brother.
I have not seen him in many years. He was exiled, so leaving me was not his
choice or his fault."
"Why was he
exiled?"
"He—it is
complicated. He followed a path he was warned not to take but did anyway."
"So it was his
fault that he left you but perhaps not his choice." She sees him frown
slightly. "Do I misspeak?"
"No. You are
correct. But I have missed him and I have felt abandoned—but also I think
I have believed that I did not do enough for him."
She cocks her head and
studies him. "Can you not help him now? You are a powerful man."
"I do not know
where he is. And we do not speak of him in this family—or anywhere. He is...forgotten.
So I helped you instead. But you are nothing like him, Saavikaam.
And I find my life the richer for having you in it." He swallows, visibly.
"But I must say something. I never gave you a choice. I brought you to
this house, to my family, to your school, and never asked you what you wanted.
Is this what you want? If it is not, I will do my best to find you a situation
that is."
"What do you
want?"
"That is
immaterial."
She moves closer,
touches his hand. "What do you want?" She wants him to feel what she
wants. That she wants to stay with him and his parents and get to know
Christine and Jim better. That she does not want to leave—to be sent
away.
He smiles. A real smile
if small. "I want you to stay as well."
"Then I choose
that. I want this. And...I thank you. I have never
said that."
"You will never
need to. Prosper and that will be the only gratitude I need."
As she gets up, he stops
her. He slowly strokes her hair, the way Christine does. "You did not have
a mother in any sense, did you?"
"No. I was an
abomination. But I think..." She has to consider her words. She has been
pondering this. "I think she did the best for me that she was able to. But
it was insufficient."
"It was indeed
insufficient. You were not to blame for what happened to her."
She takes a deep breath.
"That the commandant was my father—that he showed me favor—was
further humiliation for her. It distressed her that he made of me a Romulan. By
teaching me to fight, to survive in his way, not hers."
"As she did not
survive and you did, perhaps that was fortuitous?"
She looks up at him,
unsure if he is making some kind of joke, but his face is serene. "You can
think well of him?"
"He ensured your
survival. I cannot condone what was done there, the horror of the experiments.
But you are a unique and valuable individual. And if he saved you, then I am
grateful for that. It is a shame you did not know his name."
"But I did. I was
just forbidden by both him and my mother to use it. It was Pardek."
"Pardek." He nods,
as if he will remember the name. "Saavik, I am your guardian now, but if
you wish, I can adopt you. It must be your choice. You do not have to give up
what you were for me."
"Will Christine be
my mother if you do that? Will Jim be my other father?"
"Yes. It will be
quiet confusing."
She frowns. "Why?
You cared enough for both of them to not want to choose. It seems
straightforward." On Hellguard, all sorts of
relationships arose out of necessity. And sometimes true affection.
"I forget how old
you are in some ways."
"Amanda would be my
grandmother, then."
"She would enjoy
that." He studies her. "You do not mention Sarek. Is he distant to
you."
She is surprised at the
question. "No, he speaks Vulcan with me, to help me gain fluency. And we
work on my calligraphy."
"You do?"
"Yes. Generally
when you are out of the house."
There is a look she
cannot read on Spock's face. "Of course."
"Would David be my
brother?"
"In some form, I
think perhaps he would."
"His mother is very
dictatorial. But she treats me the same way she does him, so I think that is
customary behavior for her. Also her food is very good." Things called
butter chicken and lamb pasanda, not that she will
let that slip. David has kept her love of meat secret other than to tell his mother
not to make the meals vegetarian on her behalf. "Will Doctor Marcus also
be some sort of mother? How many mothers is
normal?"
"You ask excellent
questions, Saavikaam. Normal? What is normal?"
She finds herself
smiling, but he does not berate her. "I think that is a question only
someone who believes himself outside the bounds of what is accepted would
ask."
"You are far too
quick, little one." He touches her cheek, and his eyes are gently amused.
"I feel most fortunate that we met that day on Hellguard."
She puts her hand over
his, and holds on for a long moment. "I do, as well."
##
Christine
jogged down the corridor to the main transporter room. Jim looked up from a
padd as she hurried through the door. "Cutting it close."
"Len
kept telling me he'd finish for me, but I didn't want to leave my
patient."
"Just
one reason I love you," he said softly, probably so the transporter tech
on duty wouldn't hear them getting all mushy. If it had been Jan, he wouldn't
have been as discreet. "For what it's worth, Chris, I'm going to miss
having you all to myself. Even if I can't wait for him to get home."
She
bumped against him gently. "Same for me. Are you going to keep calling me
Chris?"
"I
am. It's...a natural thing, it happened because we've been alone."
"And
you were mad and hurt."
He
laughed softly. "And I was mad and hurt. Don't you ever get tired of
calling me on my bullshit?"
"Nope."
She was about to say more when she was overcome with a feeling of almost
vertigo, and heard Jim gasp. Then she felt it—the bond and Spock, the
warmth that she knew both she and Jim had been missing. "Jim."
"Oh,
my." He took her hand and squeezed. "I guess he's really back."
"He's
ready, sir," the tech said.
Jim
nodded, his grin so big she wanted to kiss him but forced herself
to behave. "Bring him home, chief."
The
familiar whine of the machine, the gradual appearance of a beloved face and
body. She grinned as widely as Jim was.
"Good
trip, I take it?" Jim's eyes were shining.
"Adequate."
Spock's eyes fairly gleamed as well. "I found myself anticipating all the
things that have been neglected during my absence."
As
Jim led them out of the transporter room, he murmured. "It wasn't as if we
didn't have sex on Vulcan."
"We
were most circumspect and without the bond, while it was needed and welcome, it
was the equivalent of emergency rations when one wants a gourmet meal."
"Wow,
horniness makes you poetic, Spock." Christine laughed as she touched his
hand softly once the turbolift doors were safely closed.
He
chose to ignore her, but she had the feeling he was more trying to control himself after so long away than act superior. She glanced at
Jim who was watching Spock with a look of deep contentment.
They
somehow managed not to race to their quarters. Spock
had arrived on beta shift—she imagined he'd chosen his shuttle schedules
to ensure they would be free when he got home. Sentimental sap.
Or
just really in need of some quality sex. Or probably a little
of both. She was fine with any answer.
As
soon as they were in their quarters, Spock turned and said, "Remove your
clothing. Now."
"Bossy,"
Jim said, but he was already peeling off his shirt.
"I
don't know that I want to take orders right now. Maybe I'll—" She
laughed as Spock pulled her closer and began to remove her clothes. "Or
that works."
And
then he was pulling off his own robe and pushing them to the bed, kneeling
between them, invoking the meld, the bond pulsing in a way it probably couldn't
have while they'd had so many things between them: space and resentment and one
little girl.
He
stared down at them. "I know what I asked of you—especially so soon
after the Pon Farr—was hard."
"It
was," Jim said. "But it was also life. We'll be separated. We've done
it before and we'll do it again. For what it's worth, I'm sorry that I couldn't
see the possibilities in Saavik as soon as you did." Jim reached up and
stroked his cheek. "And it's ironic, isn't it? If you hadn't left, I'd
have never met David, gotten him back in my life."
Spock
lifted an eyebrow. "It is, indeed, ironic."
Christine
pulled him down to them. "You're back so that must mean that Saavik has
integrated to your satisfaction?"
"Yes.
Enough that I can leave her with my parents. Although
ironically I believe Doctor Marcus may also be playing a not insignificant role
in her academic development."
Jim
started to laugh. "Of course she is."
Tired
of hearing about Carol when they should be having sex, Christine pulled Spock
her way. "Kisses now, okay?"
"Please,
Spock, indulge our wife." Jim rolled to his side, the sensual look on his
face that he always got when he watched them made her feel warm and
loved—and sexy.
Spock
kissed her and made sure she was ready, then pushed in, moving slowly at first.
"Closer," he said to Jim, and leaned over to kiss him, never stopping
thrusting.
"I'd
forgotten what an excellent multitasker you
are," she said as her two men pulled away from each other, the looks on
their faces soft and unguarded. "I love you both so much."
She
couldn't tell if they answered her because she felt herself going, Spock timing
his thrusts perfectly, Jim holding her hand, murmuring, "Yes, Chris. Let
go."
As
if she had a choice? As if she even wanted one?
As
she came down, Spock turned to Jim. "I will never abandon you," he
said softly, but not so quietly to exclude her.
She
knew Jim needed to hear it. And she reached out and touched Spock's back
gently.
He
looked at her. "Or you."
And
then he reached for the meld points and took them deeper and deeper, into the
realm of not knowing who was doing what to whom, into
the place where pleasure was so thick it felt like she could happily drown in
it.
Hours
later, they lay spent, and Spock had the lazy half-smile he wore after
particularly amazing—and exhausting—sex. "I have missed both
of you. I have missed this release, this trust. On Vulcan, I did not relax. Not
as I do with you."
"Well,
we're free here. There...there's so much baggage." She looked over his
chest at Jim. "But you saved her, Spock, by taking her there. Here...we
weren't going to help. She needed you and you were there."
Jim
nodded and played with Spock's hair.
"I
would like to be more than her guardian. I would like to adopt her if that is
what she wishes. It does not have to be a mutual act."
"For
better or worse—isn't that what we said," Jim said gently. "For
kids, blood or not. I've met my son. I'd love to have a daughter."
Spock
turned to look at her.
"I
adore the little charmer. No argument from me."
"I
am a most fortunate man." He pulled them both closer. "And she will
be the better for knowing both of you."
Christine
wasn't sure there was anything else to say, so she closed her eyes and allowed
herself to doze. She could hear Jim and Spock talking very softly, but she
didn't worry about what they might be saying.
Until
she heard the word "baby."
"We're
years away from that, boys."
There
was a startled hush. Clearly, they'd thought she was asleep. "Big
goofs," she said as she snuggled in closer and let herself drift off for
real.
#
Saavik is on Earth
because Amanda did not want to leave her on Vulcan when they returned to the
embassy and told Sarek that Saavik would benefit from private tutors at this
initial stage more than from the school.
He came to her to tell
her of this. "Saavikaam, my wife has decided you
are to leave school. If you do not wish this, you must let me know. It is never
wise to oppose her when she is set on something, but I will if you wish to stay
on Vulcan."
"Will it reflect
badly on me if I do not want to stay? Vulcan schools are widely regarded as the
benchmark for excellence" She was parroting Spock and she thought Sarek
knew it.
"These are unique
circumstances. I cannot imagine you are achieving much in the way of social
interactions being placed with children so much younger, and that is as
important as academic learning since you were raised in a society much
different than what you will encounter in the Federation. I believe when you
have caught up to where you should be academically, you will impress all and
find yourself more...welcome among your peers. Your mind is quick, your
analytical skills remarkable, and your facility with language
impressive—I have heard you speaking standard with Christine. If anyone
does not accept that you are an accomplished young woman, it will be a
reflection on them, not you."
"Thank you."
He ruffled her hair
gently, surprising her. "Do not thank me, child. I wish for you to thrive,
not just survive, with us."
And she is thriving. Her
tutors are kind and seem to want her to succeed—a sense she never got
from her teachers. She imagines the tutors had to impress both Amanda and
Sarek, before they were placed with her.
And Earth seems
so...diverse. With Starfleet and Federation headquarters both there, it is not
just humans she can interact with but beings of all sorts. It is stimulating
and she studies with a fervor her tutors approve of.
She has resolved to be
caught up in two years. She will excel. She will never not
excel.
And David will be back
on Earth soon. Carol's tenure on Vulcan is ending; she has already chosen an
apartment near the Vulcan Embassy so David and Saavik can visit easily.
Saavik knows Jim and
Christine bristle around Carol, but she finds her brusqueness refreshing. She
never has to try to interpret the hidden meaning. Carol has no time for
subtlety.
And she enjoys teaching
Saavik things too.
But now it is Jim
teaching her things. The Enterprise is in for
refits and Jim has taken her south to Los Angeles to an amusement park he
loves. She is surprised they are going alone, but unlike when they first met,
she feels safe around him now.
David wants him in his
life. She trusts David. Spock, too wants him near. And
Christine. Amanda loves him. Sarek tolerates him—perhaps there is even
real fondness.
Everyone but Carol
approves of him. And Saavik suspects Carol might still have strong feelings for
him. It is the way she looks when David mentions him. Annoyed but
also...nostalgic.
Saavik imagines she may
wear the same look when talking about the commandant.
"Okay, let's get
one thing clear," Jim says as they get off a ride that went far faster
than she expected—to her great pleasure. "I'm not going to tell
anyone if you want to abandon being vegetarian for the day." She cocks her
head and he laughs. "You look like Spock when you do that. Does that mean
you don't want some meat?"
"No, it does not
mean that."
He grins. "Okay,
then. You trust me?"
She nods and means it,
and his smile grows larger as he urges her forward, his hand on her neck. He
has a gentle touch, and she reads from the skin-to-skin contact that he is
enjoying being with her. That he anticipates the thing they are standing in
line for. She studies the menu. "What is a corn dog?" She has met
dogs in the park. She likes them. Must she eat one?
"It's cornbread
around a hot dog." He seems to see her distaste. "No, not a real dog.
It's a mix of things, most of them not that healthy. But it's not from a dog. I
love dogs."
They get to the window
and he orders them each a corn dog, grabbing little cups filled with things she
recognizes from Amanda's kitchen. Ketchup and mustard.
They sit under a tree
and eat them, dipping the corn dogs into the sauces. She smiles as she eats and
Jim laughs softly.
"Can I have
another?" she asks as she finishes.
"You can. But maybe
not right now." He points up, to where a ride—a rollercoaster, he
called this type—that was twice the size of the one they rode first
looms. "See, we want the front car."
They were in the middle
on the last one. "Why?"
"Because it's
terrifying. And exhilarating. But not on a too-full stomach.
The trick is to eat little bits as you go. That way you can ride all day."
"What happens if
you eat too much at once?"
"Well, there's
vomiting."
"Ah, then restraint
is prudent." She stares up at the rollercoaster as a car goes by very
fast. "Does Spock ride on such things?"
"Nope."
"Christine?"
He has to think about
that. "I'm not sure. She has meetings at Starfleet Medical with Doctor
McCoy, or she would have come with us. But I don't know if she'd have ridden
the scary rides." He suddenly looks concerned. "Hey, if you don't
want to ride them, that's okay. Just tell me. I may be getting overly enthusiastic.
But I can back off."
She watches another car
zoom by. The people on it are screaming. She realizes she is smiling.
"What is required to get the first car?"
"Speed. We're going
to be racing some pretty determined teens."
"I am quite
fast."
"So am I. We'll
show 'em not to mess with us." His grin is open
and easy, and she smiles ever so slightly then bites it back.
He leans in, his
expression serious. "Saavik, you can be whoever you want to be around me.
You can be Romulan, not just Vulcan. If you want to smile, do it."
"I am trying to
find a balance. One that will work for me over time."
"I'm all for
balance. But we also act in different ways around different people. Even Spock
and Sarek do." He takes the last bite of his corn dog, then disposes of
their trash. "You'll figure it out—what works, what doesn't. You're
one of the brightest kids I've ever met."
She feels pleasure at
the compliment. "May I ask you something?"
He nods.
"You and Carol were
close—close enough to have David. But now you are not. And...things are strained between you.
Will that happen with you and Spock and Christine, too?"
"Well, Spock found
a way to bond with both of us, so we can't go too far." His smile is
odd—fake, she thinks. Designed to change the subject or deflect away
from—from strong emotion. He is human, but he does not wish to speak of
feelings.
She finds that
fascinating. "Humans marry sometimes only for set periods, is that not
true?" She has been reading much, trying to learn so she can better understand
Christine and this man and even Amanda.
"Some people do
term marriages. It's sort of like leasing a fancy flitter. You don't spend a
whole lot of time on maintenance if you know you'll be trading it in
soon."
She frowns. "I lack
full context but I think I understand."
He studies her. "I
love Spock and I love Christine. I can't imagine my life without them. So I
hope, beyond all other hopes, that we never, ever lose our way to each
other."
"I caused strain
for you—for your marriage."
"It wasn't you,
Saavik. It was us, figuring our way. We're all pretty
strong personalities. We don't like to lose. And we were just getting over
another rocky patch. So...sometimes things get messy. But I'm glad you're
here." He starts to laugh softly. "So...do you like Carol?"
"I do. She has
taught me a great deal and speaks her mind as a Vulcan would." She decides
not to tell him that Carol refers to him and Spock and Christine as "the
three yahoos."
"That she
does." His voice drops, becomes so soft she thinks she would not be able
to hear it with human ears. "Is she good to David? A good mom?"
"She is. He
prospers."
"Wow, have you
assimilated." He laughs. "Okay, do you want more talking or to ride
on that monster?"
"I enjoy talking to
you, but I am...curious about the ride."
"Let's do it,
then."
She finds herself
walking closer to him than she did before as they near the line for the
rollercoaster. She stands almost touching him, the way she can see human
children doing with their parents. As they move in line, he reaches down,
finding her, keeping her with him.
She does not think he is
aware he is doing it. It is innate. His need to look after
people. Spock has told her this on Vulcan, when he told her about both
of his mates, but she did not understand.
As they get to the head
of the line, he indicates two pairs of boys behind them, each eying the front
car. "They're our rivals."
"They shall know
defeat."
He laughs at her
expression, and then the queue gates go up. He takes off and she runs next to
him, then passes him, slipping into the front car
before the boys can get there.
Jim is not far behind.
He eases by the boys. "Sorry, kids. Gotta sit
with my daughter."
The boys grumble but
they move away.
She looks down, hiding
the smile at what he called her.
"Is it okay that I
just called you that?" He sounds concerned, as if he is misconstruing her
looking down. "I know I'm not your dad. Although if you want me to be, I'd
love it."
She meets his eyes.
"It is fine to call me that."
"Good." His
eyes are so gentle. Why did she ever think him unwelcoming?
Once everyone is settled
and they are locked in with restraints of various kinds, the car begins to
move, a long climb to the top, from there she can see all the deep drops and corkscrews
and loops. She is suddenly nervous.
Jim takes her hand.
"It'll be fun. Trust me."
She holds on tightly
because even though she does trust him, she is also more than a little afraid.
She believes Spock would tell her there is no logic in rollercoasters. David
would probably tell her to live a little. She has no idea what Christine would
say but looks forward to finding out.
The car starts to drop;
the people behind them start to scream.
Jim laughs, and she
smiles in a way Spock would not approve of. Then she laughs, too.
There may not be any
logic to hurtling in a small car along a track in ever more exciting and fast
ways—but it certainly is fun.
FIN