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) 2008 by Djinn. This
story is Rated R.
The Truth She
Never Knew
by Djinn
Romulus is surprisingly
pleasant. The room we're in is lush; the
soft breeze coming in through the wooden shutters is cool on our overheated
skin. I laugh softly, turning over in bed
and watching Spock as he walks into the room carrying a tray of food for us. He's naked and I'm naked and we've been naked
for days now. Fortunately this lovely
Romulan room comes with a very ornate and large shower, so we smell pretty good
considering.
"Something amuses
you?" Spock asks and I shrug. He
puts the tray down on the bedside table and settles in next to me. "What?"
"I may have overstated
the hardship of this little venture to Jenny."
"You said you told her
the truth." He raises an eyebrow,
that elegant gesture I loved, then hated, and now love
again. "But truth is such a
malleable thing for you, Christine."
"Seeing as how you're
alive because of my fluid definition of truth, I'd tread carefully."
He doesn't answer, just pops
the Romulan version of a grape into my mouth to shut me up, then
watches me as I eat. "What version
of the truth did you give her?"
I lean back and he follows
me, fingers trailing down my skin, making me shiver. "I left out a few pertinent
details."
"That you are supplying
me with information I should not have? Information
that is beneficial to my mission?"
"That would be one of
them, yes." I smile as his lips
chase after his fingers. Spock is
surprisingly sensual when he wants to be.
"What are the
others?"
I remember Jenny's face when
I said I might not survive the ordeal of the Pon Farr
at my age. "She doesn't know about
the rejuvenation treatments."
Spock gives me a hard look; I
give him one right back.
"I'd be dead by now
without them. No more nookie for you, Mister."
"They are questionable
procedures."
"I prefer
'experimental.'" Another reason to
keep my M.D. up to date: you find out about the most interesting--and yes,
questionable--research that way. I don't
look young, but I sure don't look as old as I should. Good genes, I always tell people.
"So those were your
lies?"
"Lie is such a hard
word, Spock. You know I hate it. I prefer misdirection and omission."
"Yes, much more
honorable."
I punch him lightly in the
arm. "Honor is for Klingons. And neither of us are that."
"You said you told her
Leonard was her father."
"I did."
He frowns. A true, human frown. It's something he only does during the Pon Farr. When his filters are stripped bare. "What lie is
left?"
"To get to you, I needed
her off balance. But to get her that off
balance would mean telling her truths that might make her hate me. That hate--even if it didn't last long--would
make her unlikely to be altruistic. To
make her do what I wanted, to get me to you, I needed her to think that this
would in fact be a punishment rather than a pleasure for both of us."
"I am not following your
logic."
"There's a first time
for everything."
"I am not convinced
there is any logic to follow."
"There is. She loves me, but she also hated me at that
moment. She knew I was using her because
I told her I was using her. I was using
her to get to you." I nuzzle
close. "You: a man she knows I
love, but also a man she thinks only wants to fuck me when he has to."
"You did not tell her we
were bonded?"
"Oh, I did. But I made it sound like a marriage of
convenience." I take a long
breath. "She thinks this will hurt
me. To be here with
you. To be
close to you without being intimate."
He closes his eyes for a
moment and I know he disapproves. I also
know he's fully aware that the only reason he still lives is because I did the
impossible and got myself to Romulus.
"Your methods are so..."
"Cold? Or were you
going to say Vulcan? Admit it. This completely outdoes T'Pring in the logic
department."
As he always does, he ignores
my remark about T'Pring. The woman is
still a sore spot for me. Not as sore as
Valeris--I'm not really a fan of any of Spock's former paramours. Other than Jim. Yeah, I lied about that to Jenny, too, but
what was between Jim and Spock was their business.
"Jenny is your
daughter." He frowns again. "She is also mine in a sense."
"DNA testing would prove
you wrong."
"In a
sense. I was in McCoy's body, my katra, the integral
part of me."
Another thing I left out when
I told Jenny the story of her birth. Her
father might have forgotten that night, but Spock never did--once his memories
unscrambled, anyway. "So you think
of her as yours?"
"You have never let
me."
"It was for the
best." I wonder if he's going to pull
away as he does sometimes, when my methods--or just my character--repel
him.
But he doesn't. He pulls me close and strokes my back. "She should know that I care for
you."
"I'm sure I'll find a
way to work that in. Once you're safe
and sound on Earth again. Not really
seeing the need to do it until then."
He makes a sound I don't
recognize, and I realize it is a sigh.
"Spock?"
"I do not know when I
will be back. If the Tal
Shiar catches me, I may never be back."
"I know." It is a hard fact of our life. It is not a fact I like, but it is one I am
never unaware of. I lived through his
death once; I can probably do it again, no matter how much more I love him now
than I did then. "Don't talk about
it, all right?"
His face grows tender. "You are my wife in all ways that matter
to me. You could stay here."
I laugh at his whimsy. "Yes, because I blend in so very, very
well. Hell, Spock, you don't even blend
in well up close." I crawl on top
of him, taking advantage of how open he is. "Come home."
"I cannot."
It is one of life's ironies
that Spock can love me and still live away from me. I know he loves me; I can feel it when we
meld, when he touches me, even just when he looks at me the way he is now. He loves me and we'll probably never be
together. Not in any traditional way.
But I'm not a traditional
woman and I've learned to deal with this.
I have him. That's all I've ever
wanted. "I know you can't come home."
He watches me for a moment,
his hands on my upper arms, holding me in place as he moves inside me. Then he says again, "Stay here."
I see he is serious. He wants me to stay. He loves me and that love is, at times, the
only thing that keeps me going.
But someone else loves me, too. And she's
the other thing that keeps me going.
"I can't stay. I promised
Jenny. Cross my heart and hope to die
and everything."
His frown is laced with
approval. I have some honor after
all. I can see it surprises him.
"I do love her,
Spock."
"Why did you never tell
her who her father was, then? Why did
you never tell Leonard?"
"Because he loved me too
much and he would have wanted to do the right thing by me. And I couldn't have that. Not when I wanted you. And if she had known, she wouldn't have been
able to hide it. Everything she feels is
right there on her face. She'd have told
him, and I'd have again ended up with him, because the two of them together
could have shamed me into doing the right thing." I kiss him slowly. "And I didn't want that. I wanted you."
"You deprived her of her
father and Leonard of a daughter because of me.
That was selfish."
"And this is old
ground. I did what I did because I am
how I am. You don't like it, but you
love me anyway. It's a cross you have to
bear; I'm fine with it." I move on
him, riding him, not letting him talk, reaching the
point where I can't talk either.
Collapsing on him, I whisper, "I wish I could stay."
"That I believe."
He's right to believe
it. It's not a lie, or a misdirection, or an omission. It's the truth.
For once.
FIN