BUT NEVER PARTED
part 2

Lt. Hiraku Sulu stood straight in the center of the stunned bridge. Nobody seemed to be moving. He looked to his right and saw Uhura with her fingers pressed into her closed eyes. 

He willed himself not to succumb to the emotions of those around him. 

Tamarin came up the steps to stand beside him, head bowed as if to say that despite the fact that he should have been left with the command, he was willing to follow. Flores' gaze was also steady, less impacted by events then the rest of them.

"Mr. Scott, recall the shuttle on autopilot. Commander Flores, how broad is this mine field?"

"Approximately two and a half million miles. The mine density is such that we can pass through at several points short of the edge." She replied as she moved back to her normal station.

Sulu stared down at the center seat as if reluctant to take it. "Send the nearest hole location to navigation. Let's..." He closed his eyes for a long moment. "Let's get back on track to Callen."  He sat down in the center chair with a deliberate motion.

Starting slowly so as not to trigger the mines, the Enterprise backed away from the alien vessel. After attaining a safe distance and collecting the empty shuttle, Sulu ordered a course change along the field to the nearest weak point, about a half hour distant. They flew on in silence, the mines tiny specks of organized light reflecting the nearby star system's sun. They passed a tense ten minutes while they crossed through a sparse section of the field, then resumed course toward Callen.

Mr. Leslie, now at the helm, said, "Sir, three Tholian ships approaching, zero seven mark zero." Leslie wiped a sudden surge of sweat from his upper lip.

A collective tensing rippled across the bridge and Sulu felt everyone looking at him, waiting for him. He was supposed to be James Kirk. He was supposed to pull a miracle out of the air. "Come about nine zero and drop to impulse. Let's keep our back to the mines to limit their attack maneuvering." He stared at the screen. "Electromagnetic pulse." He murmured to himself, repeating the only other message they had received from the ill-fated boarding party. "Flores, what would give us an electromagnetic pulse?"

"All kinds of things. A spinning magnet, for example."

"What would give us a big one? Really quickly." The ships were closing. Watching them on the screen, Sulu estimated they had about eight minutes before the Enterprise was within range.

She shrugged, "A thermonuclear explosion induces a significant EM pulse."

Sulu and Tamarin, who stood beside the command chair, looked at each other. "We have some, don't we?" Sulu said. "For clearing asteroid fields. We never need them. Where are they stored?"

Tamarin paused a moment in thought, dredging up his review of this ship's manuals. "In storage bay three."

Sulu slammed his hand down on the comm. "Weapons! wait. Ops! Get all available personnel to storage bay three, we need all the asteroid sweepers taken to weapons and loaded into the torpedo tubes. Quickly." He looked up at Tamarin. "Will that work? Will they fit?"

"Uh..." Tamarin began.

"They are not very large." Flores interjected calmly, trying to hide a tragic amusement.

After a few breaths, Sulu hit the comm again. "Status?"

"Sadhi here. We've found them Sir. We are unloading them to carry them more easily."

"Uh...they are explosives, Sir." Flores said.

"Be very careful with them." Sulu ordered. "Weapons, did you hear that plan?"

"Yes Sir. We are unloading torpedo casings in preparation."

Sulu was beginning to really understand why Kirk always forced everyone to think for themselves.

"Sadhi here, Bridge. We have the first asteroid sweepers in the weapons control room now."

Other voices came over the comm. "Load it this way." "It's too small, it'll rattle around in there." "You took the ejection mechanisms out as well, that is why there is too much space." "We had to, they don't come off easily."

Silence. Sulu tried not to chew his knuckles. A glance at the screen showed they had about four and a half minutes. They must have sprinted from storage bay three carrying the explosives. He tried not to think about it.

"Filler foam!" Someone said over the comm. "Someone grab a few cans. A couple rings of it will hold it in place so it doesn't move." "The case still won't open without the ejection mechanism." Another voice pointed out. "It's a fission bomb, it doesn't matter if the case doesn't open. The casing will just go away when it's triggered remotely."

Another forty-five second gap.

"Okay Sir, we have three ready and are loading them into tubes three, four, and five."

"Thank you." Sulu breathed. "Does someone have the trigger ready?"

Flores pulled up the specifications and glanced through them, reading faster than she ever had before. "It needs a coded signal in the radio band. I'll send it to communications." She nodded at Lt. Uhura when she had transfered the data.

Uhura pulled it up and began madly configuring her board. As her hands ceased moving, Sulu asked, "Ready?" She nodded affirmative.

Flores reluctantly said, "If they figure it out, the communications channel will be easy to jam."

Sulu stretched his shoulders back. "We'll just have to hit them all at once. Uhura you take torpedo six, Flores five, and..." he looked over the empty engineering spot. He hadn't called up anyone when he had pulled Flores. "Tamarin?"

"Sixty seconds to contact." Leslie said and swallowed hard.

Tamarin shook his head. "I don't know the engineering board, Sir."

Sulu stood up and waved him off.  "Never mind, I'll take it."

"All set, Sir." Uhura said softly. 

That voice is balm, Sulu thought, wondering why he'd never noticed it before. "Flores, tell us when to trigger the explosions."

"Thirty seconds. One is pealing off, Sir. Seem to be wary of the mines." Leslie corrected their course slightly. "Twenty seconds."

"They don't seem to pilot very well." Tamarin observed.

"Fire four and five. Now!" Sulu ordered a moment later.

The tubes emptied one after another. The bridge held its collective breath.

"Target one is coming close, changing course now, they seem to see it coming. I've got that one." Flores said, the picture of concentration on her viewer. Sir, your's in ten." She pressed the control and the fission bomb exploded as the photon torpedo passed within meters of the craft. "Yours in five, four, three, two, now!." Sulu pressed down the switch to trigger the message to his torpedo.

Leslie pulled his head from his viewer. "Mr. Sulu, one ship is careening toward us on collision course."

"Evasive maneuvers." Sulu said.

"Targets one and two are heading away."

"The third ship is coming back around from our blind side."

Sulu surged toward the helm, desperately wanting to take over. He stood behind Leslie instead, fidgeting. "Turn us around."

"Working on it, Sir."

From the comm weapons said, "Tubes one, two, and three now loaded and ready."

"In range in five." Leslie said.

"Fire at will. Flores, take this one."

"They are evading the torpedo: it will miss by too great a distance," Flores said.

"In range now," Leslie reported.

The laser shot out, rocking the deck. The enemy ship slipped away.

"Can we pursue? Or are we damaged?"

"Incidental damage," Uhura reported.

"Helm, take up pursuit. We need to know their top speed anyway."

"Engaging warp drive," Leslie reported as he handled the controls.

"Are we gaining on them?" Sulu asked after a few minutes.

"No Sir, but they are coming about."

"Ready on weapons and triggers. Tubes one, two, and three this time. Fire them all."

This ship didn't stand a chance. It didn't get within range before being cornered by two thermo-nuclear blasts. After the explosions, the smaller ship began to drift.

"Put us back on course, Leslie. Mr. Tamarin?"

Tamarin approached the command chair. "Sir?"

"You said something earlier about their piloting?"

"Yes, Sir. I noted that they seemed to lack a certain expertise."

"Yes. Odd isn't it."


Captain Sren stepped onto the bridge. He walked over to stand behind navigation. No one monitored communications as a dedicated position. "D'Winh, see what you can find out from Starfleet regarding the status of the Enterprise."

She switched her panel over to the communications configuration then hesitated, "Using...what means, Sir?"

He paused on the way back to the command chair, "Using whatever means you have at your disposal."

The corner of D'Winh's mouth crooked as she brought the subspace array online.

Nearly an hour later she stood and approached Sren with a notepad, which she handed to him. He accepted it and scanned its contents. The Enterprise (as well as the Farragut) were successfully attacked and partially disabled by unknown ships in Orion space. His eyebrow rose at that in concern. The Enterprise discovered one of these ships caught in a minefield and boarded it in hopes of discovering a weakness that Starfleet could utilize. The entire boarding party including the captain was lost. The Enterprise was now en-route, slowly, to Callen Six. He handed the pad back to her.

D'Winh erased the information as she switched back to a navigation console. Apparently the report had some meaning for the captain, presumably related to Spock's condition, which meant his mate must have been on the boarding party or possibly killed in the ship battle. "Apparently gossip does not travel too far." Spock had said to her. She mused over this until the end of shift.


Under the reassuring weight of a medical blanket, Spock lay restlessly. He had failed at meditation, which meant he had no means to control the incessant panic which threatened to overcome him: panic at his inability to control the discomfort, pain almost, of the emptiness.

All this time he had thought he was fighting a bond with Kirk, he had in reality been fighting the side-effects of a bond: the automatic melding, the continuous low-level empathy. And now he had nothing. He shook his head in disgust at himself. He should have suspected, Kirk always seemed to understand him too well.

The door swished open. Spock looked up as D'Winh crossed over to stand beside the bed.

D'Winh noted Spock's ruffled appearance. He managed to sit up and nod something that may have been a greeting. 

"Am I needed?" For a moment Spock thought returning to duty would be a relief.

She straightened. "The data collection is being managed adequately in your absence. I came to see how you were doing."

Spock closed his eyes a moment before glancing around the room and shaking his head. "It is considered likely that I will survive," he said finally with a hint of despair or anger.

D'Winh felt a surge of anger herself looking at this being, at his shattered pride. Anger at whoever thought it rational to bear a dual-natured Vulcan and then raise him in the way of one of the strictest clan disciplines of their people, leaving him ill-equipped to deal with his own powerful emotion. She put the negative thoughts aside. "If you wish a surrogate mate to ease your difficulty, I am willing."

He looked at her in surprise.

D'Winh had only ever seen one other Vulcan in this state: a classmate when she was a teen had lost her betrothed in an accident. Trem her name was. D'Winh remembered her as scared and confused beyond her young control. She dropped her eyes out of habit, then faced him again. "If I am not suitable, Healer Sunar informed me that three others have also offered to act as proxy."

Spock had no response to that. He shivered and pulled the blanket around himself and took a deep calming breath. "I will decline such assistance. Though I am...surprised by the consideration."

"Why do you decline?" She asked sharply.

He shook his head and thought a moment. Speaking quietly he explained, "I fear losing my memories, my sense of him. It is all that I am left with." He bowed his head, seemingly depleted by the admission.

Sweet desert, D'Winh thought and felt her control wavering. She was intensely curious now, why he was here instead of the Enterprise, who his mate had been. There was absolutely no Vulcan way to ask. In standard she said, "You are willing to speak of him?"

Spock shook his head.


Ensign Christine Chapel finished the rounds of the remaining severely wounded. Dr. McCoy had not been out of his office in almost an hour. She frowned to herself and walked in without buzzing. Leonard McCoy sat as she had expected to find him: with a glass in one hand and a bottle of Saurian brandy in the other. She took the glass from his fingers; it was clean.

"Dr. McCoy."

"Huh? You need me?" He looked up.

"Eventually. Just checking your status," she said with a hint of anger. _What gave him the right to sit here like this, as if he was the only one hurting?_ She put the bottle away after finding the cork under the desk.

"Too many injured kids out there," he said blankly.

"Yes. We need you."

"Can't believe it's happened." He stood up and they looked at each other a few breaths. McCoy turned away and walked toward the door. "Wonder if Spock's found out yet," he said before exiting.


Before shift the next day, Sren visited the medical ward.

"How is Spock progressing?" the captain asked.

"He is the same, though he is calmer now that he knows what is wrong."

Sren stared at him. "He did not know?"

Sunar shook his head.

"Does he need further assistance?"

"He has refused a proxy."

"Can you assist him?" Sren asked pointedly.

Sunar replied reluctantly, "I have only incidental training in meld healing." He paced to the scanner display. "I am very reluctant to try with him. I am certain his mind is stronger than mine and that is the opposite of what is necessary for a safe healing meld."

Thinking of Sybok, Sren asked, "Does he show signs of becoming dangerous?"

"No. Not at all. He is quite internally focused."

"If we cannot assist him, then we should take him back to his people where they more likely can." At Sunar's confused look, Sren added, "The Enterprise. It is headed for Callen, which is only fifteen days away. Your opinion?"

"They certainly would know him best, but I cannot imagine what they can do for him."

Sren returned to the bridge to make the course change. He then had the undesirable task of informing T'Ring of the change in schedule.


The Enterprise limped toward Callen Six in a quiet funk. In the meantime, the Lexington reported great success in destroying another small fleet of the Tholian-made ships. Sulu called a staff meeting to make the announcement.

Long faces surrounded the table in briefing room one. Even Tamarin and Flores seemed to have caught on to the sadness.

"Well, some good news." Sulu said. "Lexington custom-rigged a more reliable neutron bomb torpedo and is currently clearing Orion Space of any of the ships that threaten them. Turns out the Orion lower families bought a small fleet of them off of the Tholians to take over interplanetary shipping in their sector."

"They couldn't have afforded them," Tamarin blurted.

"The Orions must have someting the Tholians want wery much," Chekov supplied.

"Yeah, but what?" Tamarin asked.

"Good question," Chekov replied.

Sulu waited for the conversation to cease. Controlling staff meetings was something he would have to work on if he wanted to command permanently. He continued, "This explains the poor piloting we observed: the Orions were still learning their ships."

"They can easily fix the shielding problem," Flores pointed out.

"Yes, and the Federation is talking to the Tholians pretty intensely about that weapon of theirs."

After a brief silence McCoy said mockingly, "So, we are heroes."

Sulu took a deep breath and held it. "Some of us died heroes," he said as he picked up his pad and stood up to close the meeting.


"God! I cannot believe it! Blimey hell!" Shamus Finnegan ranted after staring at his scanner.  Snyder took a step back to give his captain more clearance.  He had called the captain over to the cleanup operation because he hadn't known quite how to handle this particular situation. This was not the reaction he had expected. "He has to be the luckiest God-damn bastard in this galaxy. Do you know..." Finnegan poked Snyder in the chest. Snyder resisted another step back. "Do you know, I once set up the perfect, I mean perfect, dorm room booby-trap on him. I mean, who'd ever thought of using Denevan swamp slime before? Who? It responds to electrical impulses, you know? Set it up right you can make it spell your name out, jump up and dance a jig, whatever. Anyway, what happens but the Vice Chancellor, *the* Vice Chancellor, just happens to be the next one through Jim Kirk's door."  He looked down at the scanner again. "God, what a lucky bastard."

The tall, silver haired, Finnegan unhooked his communicator and activated it. "Smith! Get Doc Hayden on the horn." While he waited he said to Snyder. "Get this cleaned up." He indicated the remaining two bodies. "I think we're going to have to set up a mobile surgery in here."

"Hayden here, Sir." Finnegan's communicator said.

"Got someone here who looks in need of some pretty major surgery."

"Who!"

"Come on over and I'll show you. It is kind of hard to explain."

Hayden hesitated, "Are you serious, Sir?"

"Of course I'm serious! I...Tell him, Lieutenant." He held the communicator out to Snyder.

"He's serious, Doc."

"Whoa," was Mark Hayden's only comment as he used his medical scanner on the cryogenic unit's occupant. He stood up finally. "Uh...gonna need to set up right here." He pointed at his feet. "He's on the edge and I don't want to lose time transferring him after the time it will take to bring him up to temperature."

"Oh, certainly wouldn't want to lose him," Finnegan agreed sarcastically from across the alcove. Snyder and Hayden grinned at each other.


Many days later the Enterprise arrived in orbit around Callen Six, her crew on edge and in dire need of off-ship time. Sulu was actually looking forward to relinquishing command and had let Tamarin have the con most of the remaining time.

The bridge crew was among the last to beam down leaving a skeleton crew and a contractor team doing repairs. McCoy, Uhura, Scotty, and Sulu stepped from the capital city port transporter pads together. McCoy started to ask which bar they were supposed to meet at when he noticed two Vulcans approach.

"Spock!" McCoy stepped up to him. The other didn't meet his gaze.

"Dr. McCoy?" the other, very hard-looking Vulcan asked.

"Yes?" McCoy didn't take his eyes off the very distressed looking being in front of him.

"I am Captain Sren. Is there somewhere we can talk?"

"Yeah, we can beam back up to the Enterprise," he said slowly, wishing he hadn't put his medical tricorder into his baggage. "You guys go on ahead," he said to the other Enterprise officers. "Is he all right?" McCoy asked Sren.

"That is what I wish to discuss with you."

Spock turned his head to the side with a jerk as though he'd been struck.

McCoy turned to the transporter tech. "Back to the Enterprise."

In a now-empty sickbay, McCoy pulled out a tricorder as Sren explained about the bond and the condition Spock was now in. McCoy nodded and considered his charge. He himself had finally gotten over the original shock of losing Kirk; seeing Spock reduced to this brought it back again with a vengeance.

"I'll take care of him," McCoy said. He finally looked at Sren. "Do you need an escort to the transporter room or can you find it?"

"I will find it." Sren bowed. "Spock, my best hopes for you."

Spock nodded but did not meet his eyes.

After the doors closed, McCoy put a hand on Spock's shoulder. His eyes were stinging with renewed grief and sympathy. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I did not know."

McCoy shook his head and pulled out a hypo. "Well, you have four major chemical imbalances. I can neutralize them. It isn't much, but it will make you feel a little better. Then I'm ordering you down to the planet for some heavy drinking mostly because that's where I'm going and I don't want you left alone."


Kirk awakened slowly, reluctantly. The overhead lights were far too bright, and as he lifted his hand to shade his eyes, he felt strange soft wraps around his hand. The room smelled of sickbay, though different from McCoy's sickbay. He cracked his eyes open and spotted a familiar, silver-haired face above him. "Uhn...there is a hell."   Kirk murmured as he shut his eyes against the scene.

"Ah ha, he remembers me!" Finnegan said, standing straight. "His memory is intact," he commented to Dr. Hayden in a helpful tone of voice.

"Where am I?" Kirk asked from under the shelter of his forearm.

"The U.S.S. Vuitton, Kirk me lad. We were assigned to clean up the mess you left behind in Orion Space."

"The Vuitton." Kirk repeated, pulling his arm off his eyes, braving the lights. "A light cruiser?"

Finnegan rocked up on his toes in pride. "Yup."

"Where is the Enterprise?" He wished his voice sounded stronger.

"Callen Six."

"Good." Kirk murmured, feeling sleep tugging at him.

The next time he awoke, he didn't see Finnegan, only the other man who approached upon noticing he was awake.

"How do you feel?"

"Like I've been cut in half."

"Well..." Hayden paused. "We haven't been properly introduced, I'm Marcus Hayden I sewed you back together. Only took about eleven and a half hours."

Kirk lifted a hand to shake.  "Is that why it is so hard to breath?" he asked.

Hayden looked up at the monitor. "Probably. Give it a few days. You're strong enough now for the growth accelerators, that will speed things along."


D'Winh followed Captain Sren out of the bridge doors and into the hallway. He walked quickly and she had to jog to keep up with his long stride. "You sent him away?" She asked, incredulous. "Why?"

Sren stopped in the middle of the corridor. "While we are not a strict military organization, I feel compelled to point out that I am not required to submit to an overview of my non-scientific decisions."

"I am only requesting an explanation of your logic." She shot back.

"For the record, Healer Sunar could not assist him, and jointly we decided it would be best to send him back to his own people."

Turan and another stopped and were observing the unusual exchange. D'Winh ignored them. "I thought *we* were his people. I didn't think we would stoop to abandoning him."

Sren studied her a long moment. She wondered if she'd struck a chord. "If you wish to ascertain the quality of his care, you may go ashore to do so. We leave port in two-hundred and seven minutes.  I expect you to return before then."

D'Winh tried not to sprint to the transporter room. She felt sick with the thought that Spock would believe them all so callous as Sren and Sunar. _Was she doing this for him or for herself_, she wondered as the transporter beam engaged.


With a certain flair in his step, Captain Finnegan stepped off the port pads on Callen Six.  He walked over to the transporter tech. "Any idea where I can find the officers from the Enterprise?"

She looked up from her record-keeping. "What do I look like, the concierge?"

"Hey," he backed off. "I just thought since you saw everyone as they come planetside that..."

"Yeah, everyone assumes," she snapped.

Finnegan put on his best puppy-dog expression. "That's all right, then. I'll find someone else to help." He started to walk away.

"Rumor has it they hang out in the One-Eyed Moose," she said to his back.

He turned. "In the Melange?" It was a rough part of town.

"Yup. Press'd been botherin' 'em."

"Okay. Thanks." He started away again.

"If I were you, I'd not go there like that," she said.

"Like what? In uniform?"

"No, like an Irishman." She grinned at him.

"I have never in my life seen a bar that did not want an Irishman as a customer," Finnegan shot back.

There were probably worse parts of town; at least the moose was on a busy walkway. He walked down the stairs and into the moist heat of the place. It was crowded. It took him over ten minutes to find the officers from the Enterprise. They were at a large table in the corner.

Glancing around the surly silent faces, he said, "Howdy! I'm from the Vuitton, I need some assistance from an officer or a requisition signer from the Enterprise. Someone said you were them." Several, mostly blurry, faces turned up to him. He charged on. "Look, you left a bunch of equipment behind in G9 Sector and I need to do the paperwork and give the stuff back."

"Finnegan. You are Finnegan aren't you?"

Shamus turned as the man in the closest chair stood, equaling him in height, correction: the Vulcan closest to him. Finnegan had never seen such an expression on a Vulcan, it gave him the willies. "Uh, have we met, Mr?"

"We have met in a way," the dark-haired Vulcan answered enigmatically.

"In what way?"

"In a way that you would not remember."

Finnegan froze. _What the hell did that mean?_  He was accustomed to having his leg pulled, but this guy seemed serious and he *was* a Vulcan.

"I met a reproduction of you once." Spock said.

"Oh, really?" he said weakly. _Gods. I won't ask, I don't really want to know,_ he told himself. "Uh, Mr. Scott isn't it?" He recognized someone, thank God.

Scott stood up. "My liver is askin' for a break anyway. I'll come with ya'" He wouldn't mind some assistance and a glance around the table showed that only Mr. Spock, who despite four hard ciders, was sober enough to be useful. "Mr. Spock, do ya' mind accompanying me?" Scott glanced at McCoy who waved them off.

"Indeed." Spock replied.

Finnegan froze then recovered his poise.  Ah, well...

They materialized in the Vuitton transporter room. A few high-impact cases rested against the wall. "That one is yours." Finnegan pointed at one hand-labeled with the Enterprise registry number.

Scott opened it. "Five hand phasers, six phaser rifles, two lamps. Where are the other tricorders?"

_Gods,_ Finnegan thought, _does he really know exactly what is missing?_ "I'm sure they're here somewhere. We'll check the sorting room. Follow me." He glanced back at them as he headed down the corridor. The Vulcan had remained silent since they left the bar, thankfully, allowing Finnegan to pretend he wasn't there.

As they passed medical, Finnegan backed up and stood before the door. "Oh, yeah, and you left this too. Can't imagine how you forgot it." He shook his head as though he were infinitely disappointed in them and triggered the door.

Kirk looked up from his semi-reclined position, "Scotty!"

Montgomery Scott's face underwent a rapid transition from shock to disbelief to joy. "Captain Kirk!" He bounded into the room and grasped Kirk's arm. "My God, you are real!"

Hayden stepped over. "Careful," he warned Scott.

"Aye, laddie. Ya' don' know how good it is to see you. What happened to ya?"

Finnegan stepped over as well. "We found him in a cryo-chamber on the Tholian ship. In pretty bad shape."

"Aye, must have been Taylor and Briggs put ya' in there. They were the last left alive."

Kirk frowned. "What happened to them?"

"Aye, when they tried to leave a security field disassembled them. I'm sorry, Captain, the whole boarding party was lost. Well 'cepting you o' course."

Kirk looked up and noticed that Spock had not moved from the doorway. In fact from here, Kirk couldn't even be sure the Vulcan was breathing. "Spock?" The other didn't move.

"Oy, beggin' your pardon, Captain. I have to call up the others." He pulled out his communicator. The party on the other end took a long time to respond and when they did the noise of the Moose could be heard loudly in the background. "Sulu! Get everyone up here to the Vuitton. You have to see this for yourself."

Kirk dragged his eyes from Spock to Finnegan. "You didn't report ahead that you'd found me?"

Finnegan looked innocent. "What? And miss this great reunion?"

Kirk shook his head at him. "Spock." Kirk repeated. "Come over here." Spock approached on legs that seemed to move solely of their own will. Kirk noticed with no small concern that he stopped well out of reach. "You all right?" The question seemed to bring him around a little.

He looked up finally. "Captain."

Kirk opened his mouth but was interrupted by an explosion of voices from the hallway.

"Kiptin!" Chekov shouted and he, Sulu, McCoy, and Uhura burst in. Uhura gave Kirk an immodest hug while everyone else touched him somewhere to confirm his reality. After explanations the room quieted down somewhat and Hayden relaxed, that is until McCoy grabbed the scanner out of his hand and used it on Kirk.

"Hmmmf." McCoy muttered. "Well...I could have done better, but it looks good enough. He handed the scanner back.

"Thanks." Hayden said with a touch of sarcasm.

Kirk noticed that Spock had backed up to give the others space. He held up his hand for silence. "Everyone, I want to talk to Spock alone."

"Uh, Jim..."

Kirk waved McCoy to silence. "Out. All of you."

After the room emptied, Kirk gestured for Spock to approach. "Are you going to be all right?" Kirk asked, shaken by the other's distressed appearance.

Spock stepped over and said, "Eventually."

Kirk reached out a tube-strapped hand to grasp Spock's and the other jumped back out of reach again. "Spock? What's wrong?"

Spock balked and struggled with himself for several moments. Eventually he whispered, "I felt you die."

"Oh, Spock..." Kirk yearned to stand up and take this other being in his arms. He couldn't move for all the medical equipment tethering him, plus he wasn't sure he could make it. "Why won't you let me touch you?"

"I am not certain what will happen. When you died the bond between us was severed."

"Bond?" Kirk asked carefully.

"Indeed. I had not known until..." He stared at the floor. "I beg forgiveness."

"Gods, don't worry about it."

The door chimed and opened. A short Vulcan women leaned in and said something to Spock in Vulcan.

"D'Winh," Spock said in Standard,"what are you doing here?"

In Vulcan, she replied as she stepped into the room, "I discovered that Captain Sren had abandoned you here at Callen. I was concerned for your well-being."

Spock followed her lead and also spoke in Vulcan, "I agreed with his decision."

She looked disappointed. "So you are leaving us?"

"I am not certain where I will end up. I may finish out my assignment. I may take leave on Vulcan."

"I don't want you to leave believing that everyone onboard agrees with Sren."

"I would not have expected everyone to be in agreement, but I must admit I hadn't considered it.

Kirk observed this exchange. Observed this Vulcan women debating what seemed to be a dear subject with Spock. Uh oh, Kirk thought. "Uh..." Kirk interrupted.

D'Winh turned to Kirk, "I apologize for my behavior." She said in Standard as though it was a common apology for her. "I am D'Winh from the Zephr. I came because I am concerned for Spock. Captain Sren intends to leave him behind."

Kirk looked at her. "I think we can take care of him," Kirk said, not looking at Spock who he knew would not be pleased to be spoken of so.

"He is suffering from a severed bond," she insisted.

"Yes, I know," Kirk said. "The bond was with me." He tried not to sound possessive, but couldn't completely restrain himself.

D'Winh froze. "You are Captain Kirk?"

"Pleased to make your acquaintance." Kirk bowed at the neck.

"Oh." She said then straightened as part of an effort to pull her dignity back around her. She looked at Spock. "I must apologize again." She looked from one to the other. "I will make my leave now. The Zephr departs in twenty minutes." She gave Spock the Vulcan sign and exited with a last sheepish glance back.

Kirk appraised Spock, still standing more than an arms-length away.

"If you touch me what will happen?"

"Presumably, the bond will begin to reform."

"And you don't want it?" Kirk asked, feeling hurt.

Spock swallowed and met his eyes. "I...do want it. It formed incorrectly, that is why it is causing me such difficulty now. I need a healer's assistance, I believe, with a new bond."  He looked at the human a moment. "You are willing?" he asked, nearly inaudibly.

Kirk sighed. "Yes, Spock. I am." He thought a moment, chewing on his cheek. "In fact, Starfleet recognizes a bonding as a marriage, correct?"

"Yes." Spock studied him with a new calm.

"And...we are currently assigned to different vessels. If a married couple is assigned to the same post the non-fraternization rule does not apply."

"They are unlikely to be assigned to the same vessel, Captain."

"Except on long-term missions." Kirk countered. "Wright you old devil." Kirk muttered. "I think we can manage something, Spock."

The Vulcan in question stared at Kirk with a kind of disbelief.

"Anything wrong?" Kirk asked.

Spock shook his head and stared at his feet.


D'Winh transported back to the Zephr with five minutes to spare. "Captain Sren requested you see him upon your return." The transporter tech said ominously. D'Winh swallowed hard and nodded.

She practiced her strongest controls on the short walk to the Captain's office. Her face showed completely impassive as she touched the chime pad. At his summons she stepped in and stood at perfect attention.

Sren stood with a pad in his hand; he set it down as she entered. "D'Winh I am hesitant about your continued service aboard this vessel." She stood silently at attention. He tried not to sigh. "Do you have a comment, Lieutenant?"

"Is this regarding my disagreeing with you, Sir?"

"It is regarding your propensity for allowing your emotions to affect your thinking."

"I was not raised in a Major Family, Sir."

"I am aware of that. Nonetheless, by agreeing to service on this ship, you agree to a certain standard of logic."

"Yes, Sir." She continued to stare at a fixed point on the wall. "I was overly effected by Mr. Spock, Sir. Now that he is gone, I do not expect the difficulty to continue."

"He may yet return when he has recovered."

"I do not believe so, Sir."

Sren looked at her. Now she had him curious. She fought the twitch wanting to take the corner of her lip up.

"Why do you believe so?" he asked slowly.

"I believe he will be staying with the Enterprise and his captain."

"His captain is dead, Lieutenant."

"Ah, actually not, Sir. I just met him on the Vuitton. He looked like he had, I believe the human expression is, 'been put through the ringer'."

Sren did not completely mask his surprise, to D'Winh's satisfaction. "You are quite certain it was he?"

"Indeed Sir. I had a rather lengthy conversation with the Captain of the Vuitton regarding the human concept of luck. It seems Captain Kirk was nearly cut in half with a technician's tool but just before it was too late, two of his crew placed him in cryogenic suspension before they were killed by a transporter block."

"Humans lead such complicated lives." Sren stated.

"It does make one reconsider the validity of randomness though, Sir."


McCoy arranged to have Kirk transferred to a ground hospital. With the crew madly celebrating, he didn't think they could manage to staff the ship sufficiently to make it a safe place for convalescing.

Spock settled into a hotel room away from the rabid emotionalism of the crew. He pulled out the comm panel and initiated a call to his parent's home. Amanda answered the signal, her face calm compassion on the small screen.

"Spock. I have had you in my thoughts since we heard the information release from Starfleet regarding your former captain," she said with her controlled, though still emotional voice.

At that instant, Spock missed Vulcan and his parent's house more than he ever had since leaving for Starfleet.

"It is all right, Mother. A great deal has transpired in the last few hours." He locked down his panicky mind. "Jim Kirk is indeed alive. He was picked up by a light cruiser doing followup after the battles in the Orion sectors."

Her eyes widened with surprise and delight. "That is remarkable news."

"I have a request to make of you," Spock said with seriousness.

"Of course, Spock."

He took a deep breath. "I need for you to plan a sa-kai talen."

Her mouth opened slightly but she didn't speak immediately. "You are bonding with James?" she asked eventually.

"Indeed."

"I...am not certain what Sarek will think of that."

"He stated that I was allowed to chose my own this time."

"Yes he did." She smiled slightly. "Very well Spock. I will inform him."

She shut the cover to the communications desk and stood up. Sarek was meditating in what she referred to as the stone room. Waiting until he finished was not something she could manage.

She rapped on the doorframe before entering as the door stood ajar.

Sarek looked up at her in question from his kneeling position. Amanda pulled a stool over to sit before him, hands clasped between her knees. "Husband..." She hesitated. How was he going to react? "Your son just called."

"Our son?"

"Yes, yes. Our son just called." Not a good start. "He is requesting that we plan a bonding ceremony for him."

Sarek sat back on his heels. "Indeed? Did he meet someone while serving on the Zephr?" This had occurred to Sarek as a possibility when Spock had informed them of his transfer.

"Not quite. He wishes to bond with his captain."

Sarek thought a moment and then his eyes widened just slightly. "Sren?" It seemed an implausible match.

"No husband. His former captain. James." She was going to be calling him by his given name from now on, might as well start now. "He was found alive in the Orion Sectors."

"Indeed. He is a most fortunate individual."

"You mean 'lucky'?" She teased.

He ignored the comment. "And they wish a full ceremony?" _This would require most unusual invitations,_ Sarek thought.

She sat back, forcing the tension out of her shoulders. "That is what Spock requested."

Sarek considered a moment. "He has not requested my approval."

Amanda took one of his warm, broad hands between her own. "No husband, he has not. What would you have responded if he had?"

The grey robes shifted as Sarek adjusted them. "Kirk is a suitable mate, I suppose, though certainly not whom I would have chosen for Spock. But it is Spock's choice and I am willing to support him in that." He thought a moment then added, "Though it is politically complicated..."


Spock sat in the corner of Kirk's hospital room. They were finally allowing him to walk around the floor. McCoy had an arm under Kirk's shoulder as he stepped tentatively around the shiny tiles. Two trips around the room exhausted Kirk and McCoy led him back to the bed.

Spock watched this being with new eyes. In two and a half weeks he would, quite officially, be his own. He had been forced to admit to himself that the prospect was more than a little unsettling. He let his gaze travel over the other: the bright white, oversized shirt and robe gave Kirk an angelic appearance. Spock noticed Kirk's gaze resting on him as McCoy settled him back into bed, knowing human eyes soothing him. Kirk understood him well even without the bond. Fascinating.

McCoy left to run an errand and now that they were alone, Spock stood and approached the bed. 

"How was your session today?" Kirk asked. Spock was being treated by a Vulcan healer assigned to the Lexington on an exchange program. The Lexington would be leaving port in thirty-six hours so further treatment would have to wait until they arrived on Vulcan, just a few days before the ceremony.

Spock nodded, "Adequate, I believe."

To Kirk's eye, he looked about three-hundred percent better, which allowed the human to stop worrying about him every waking moment. "I miss touching you. I miss...well that can wait until I'm better." Kirk admitted.

The dark head tilted at a curious angle. "I believe I am recovered enough for a very brief touch." Spock stated.

"I don't want to risk hurting you..." Kirk began before his mouth was captured in an exquisitely tender kiss. "Oh, God," Kirk breathed, then needed to catch his breath. "Oh, please don't do that to me again unless you are going to finish me off."

Spock stood straight, but had a glint of tease in his eye. "As you wish."

The door chimed and opened. "Uhura. Please come in. Spock, can I talk to Uhura alone?" Spock nodded to them and departed. Kirk watched him leave with an ache that felt like a teenage crush.

"I need to ask you something." Kirk said once they were alone.

"Anything, Captain."

"Uh, it hasn't been announced yet because we are going to let Spock's family announce it, but Spock and I are...well...getting hitched."

"Captain!" she said, delighted.

"I need to have a sponsor present at the ceremony and since you are the most graceful person I know, I wondered if you would be willing?"

She flushed up her neck into her face. "Sir, I...I am honored, but I don't think...well I don't feel I am, well 'worthy' I suppose could be the word."

Kirk tilted his head at her in doubt. "Let me tell you the duties as they were laid out to me. One, helping me with the ceremonial robes. Two, standing on the side looking moderately interested in what is going on. Three, if I decide to challenge the marriage you have to fight to the death for me, but that won't come up." She laughed. "No, no, that one I know from personal experience, so don't laugh." He rubbed his chest.

"You can't be serious?"

"No, actually I am. But like I said, it won't come up." His face went somber. "My mother is going to be there, but I can't have a family member as a sponsor, and frankly..." he turned on his best smile, "I don't have anyone else to ask. Not that wouldn't trip over their robe or something."

"Oh, Captain." She put her head down a long moment. "All right, I'll do it."

"Thank you," he said sincerely, then added, "Spock's mother will make sure you know what to do."


Soft, heavy fabric slid up his arm as Uhura adjusted the silvery robe. She crouched before him on the rough-hewn stone floor intent on the task of getting the strange clothing to hang just right. She stood straight and looked him over with a critical eye.

"You opted for a dress uniform?" Kirk said as the braid on her uniform caught the spare light from a nearby torch.

She apparently finally decided that he looked perfect because she backed up a step, hands outstreched as if to will his garment to remain in place. "Amanda gave me this." She indicated the long sash she had triple-looped around her neck to keep it off of the floor. "It seemed...correct somehow to be in uniform." She made a last tweek to his collar.

Winona Kirk stood silently in the shadows watching a graceful, buxom women adjust her son's costume. For a moment she could pretend it was she, instead of the rigid, dark alien she saw at a distance just minutes ago, that her son was to marry. She took a step forward, scuffing her foot on a high stone. The pair turned to her.

"Mother!" Kirk said in warm welcome. Winona nodded her head in greeting and joined them in the brightest part of what seemed to be a cave. It was an odd cave though, dry, not damp. Kirk spread his arms, "How do I look?"

After a long moment of difficult consideration, it became apparent that the elder Kirk had no answer to that.

Uhura cleared her throat. "We have about a half-hour, Sir. I'll wait by the exit."

Kirk's shoulders slumped as he let his hands fall. "You are...unhappy," he said.

"I guess I don't understand." She crossed her arms and looked him up and down again.

"You haven't even met him."

That statement seemed so unlikely that she again had no immediate response. She groped for something, "I saw him outside."

"Did you talk to him?"

It was clear that this was important to James. She took a deep breath, in truth she had been intimidated. "He was surrounded by what appeared to be half the ruling class of Vulcan and the Federation." His face indicated that this was no excuse. "These are people I only..."

"'Beings', Mother."

She paused. "Beings I recognize from news articles. Do you know what they are saying about this on Earth?" She sounded disgusted.

_Do you know what it is like living with half a soul? Do you know how wonderful I feel with him?_ He didn't say either of this things because he feared her reaction. Turning away he said, "Maybe you shouldn't have come. You barely made it. Why didn't you accept the high-speed shuttle tickets I wanted to send?"

"My son is getting married, I have to be here. And I made it on time."

He turned back and grasped her shoulders. "Then accept your son's choice," he pleaded.

"Why him?" She asked, thinking of the cold alienness of the being she saw as well as the group of other Vulcans around him. "Are you sure what you are feeling is real? That you aren't being manipulated?" Her eyes were bright with emotion.

Jim released her arms, wanted desperately to escape the bigotry coming from such an unexpected source. He stood still instead. "He is the most honest, loyal, caring being I have ever known." The words came out drained of emotion, not fiercely as he wanted them to. "If you can't accept that I wish to be by his side for the rest of my life and am willing to commit to that before whoever happens to show up for it--" He waved his arm in the general direction of the ceremonial circle. "--then you shouldn't stay."

She frowned to herself. "You are certain about this?" _I didn't even know you liked men,_ she thought, but decided it was pointless to bring up at this stage.

Kirk nodded. "Spock and I need each other. I can't explain, it is too deeply rooted in me to put into words."

She shook her head and with damp eyes took his hand and said and stood silently thinking about the past. Eventually she squeezed his hand. "All right. I'll trust you on this." Obvious relief washed over him, compelling her to embrace him.

"Thank you," he said with a gruff voice.

She looked him over again and shook her head. With a Kirk-style sly smile she said, "As long as I don't have to sit next to the President of the Federation at the reception."

Kirk started to smile with her then said, "Is that really a problem?"

She gazed at him in disbelief, "I really am sitting next to the president?"

"Uh," Kirk bent down to adjust his sandle. The reception had taken on a life of its own and seemed to have become the event for those displeased about the recent trend toward Earth isolationism. "I haven't seen a seating chart lately, but... Actually you two have a lot in common." He hooked his arm through hers and led her out. "Relax and do what I do: just be yourself and it all seems to work out fine."

They found Uhura at the entrance. She had arranged the metallic sash artistically over her dress reds. She looked up and studied each of them closely. At a nod from her captain, she relaxed.

At the sound of a distant gong, the procession started from just outside the cave entrance. Their little group of three followed two sets of bells and were followed by masked warriors carrying battle axes at the ready. "Is that in case anyone steps out of line?" Winona had asked. At her son's reassuring nod and smile she ignored them.

As they entered the circle, Kirk's eyes lost interest in everything except the being across the space. Spock stood in a deep red robe, unmoving except for the slight breeze catching at his sleeves. His parents stood off to one side of him, both composed as always. That is how it should have been last time, Kirk thought to himself. He looked beautiful.

T'Pau stood up and started the ceremony. She beckoned Kirk over with a knarled hand. He obeyed and knelt before her and braced himself as her rough fingers contacted his temple. Her dry mind brushed his a moment before she broke contact. Spock had explained that since he was an outsider she was compelled to verify his motives before allowing the ceremony to continue. Apparently satisfied, she stood with the aid of a staff and shuffled to the firepit.

She spoke in heavily-accented Standard, "Ages ago, our people cast out their animal instincts onto these sands. Despite this purging, our people still retain the need for the complete companionship found only in a bonding of minds." She looked from one to the other. "Kirk, you are the second human we have enfolded into our Family; even so, it is still a break from Tradition. Do you truly understand what is to transpire here?" At Kirk's nod she continued, "Spock, thee are prepared?" As Spock nodded also, Kirk wondered if the question was ritual or in reference to the broken bond.

T'Pau turned away and made a proclamation in Vulcan with her staff upraised. The bells chimed madly and Spock raised his left hand palm facing outward. Kirk pressed his own left hand against it. A symbolic test of strength, Spock had called it. The Vulcan pressed harder than the human expected forcing him to shift his feet as the hand came down and turned at waist level. They held that position for quite a while until Kirk, staring into the deep brown depths of his lover's eyes, realized a signal was expected of him. He nodded, suppressing the smile on his lips at the realization that the moment had come.

Spock's right hand moved slowly up to his face. Kirk brought his up to mimic it. The unexpected strangeness of the touch made Kirk gasp at the same time that the total exposure of his being made tears spring to his eyes.

Winona Kirk made a move to step forward but found herself restrained by the surprising strength of the female officer who had grasped her hand.

file://Just a few moments longer.// Spock's gentle thought reached him. file://Trust me.//

With that thought, Kirk gave in where he hadn't realized he was resisting. Like living mercury, part of Spock poured into his soul. The only reason he didn't gasp again was because he had clenched his jaw tightly against it. The strange pain faded as well as the memory of it. Warm fingers broke contact with his face. A glowing core of warmth and joy trembled inside him. He feared to move wanting dearly not to disturb it.

file://It is not so fragile.// Spock said through the remaining link of their palms.
Kirk straightened his broad shoulders and blinked in the excess moisture of his eyes before the joy he felt forced it to overflow. He let his hand fall to the side as Spock turned to T'Pau. "It is thus." He said.

A masked warrior approached them with two sashes setting each at their feet. In unison they bent down for them and reached around each other to tie them at the waist.   Spock had told him they were to wear them when in public for the next eight days. The bells chimed and the processions started out. The two of them stood in the center near the coals staring at each other. Kirk tried to reach out with his mind without physical contact, but Spock did not seem to notice it.

Kirk turned as his mother exited with her hand in Uhura's and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. After the procession had departed and the wind became the primary noise in the circle, they moved as one to embrace and fell into a passionate kiss. The bond flashed into an instant meld and Kirk lost track of where his arms ended and Spock's body began. Spock broke off the kiss but still held the shorter being. file://Shall we retire. I sense you are in need of rest.//

"I'm all right." Kirk answered out loud out of habit. The kiss reminded his body how long it had been. The circle was completely quiet now. "But I would like to spend a little time alone with you."

"We are required to do so." Spock answered as he shifted to lead Kirk back to the caves.

"We are? Is that why the reception is not for thirty-seven hours."

"Indeed. In case that time is required."

"Required?" Kirk asked as they both ducked for the cave entrance. Kirk didn't seem to be getting it.

Spock stopped just inside the darkness. "Do you not recall the state I was in last time we were here?"

"Oh. I see. Uh, you aren't having any of those symptoms now are you?"

Powerful arms pulled him tight, roved over his back and buttocks. "Only in the sense that I desire thee." He tasted the other's neck.

"Oh, yes. Spock, let's find somewhere more comfortable."

The Vulcan pulled away and stared into his eyes a long moment, before reaching for a torch and leading the way deeper into the caves. Just a few turns in, they reached a stone door which turned on a center post. Spock pressed lightly and the stone swung soundlessly, revealing a large chamber. After the wall lamps were lit, Kirk could see the stone pedestal with a thick bedding and black and brown furs covering it, as well as a wash basin and in the corner what were probably facilities. In an alcove beside the door there were food and beverage containers.

Kirk gave him a sideways look. "The honeymoon suite?"

Spock's brow furrowed, "I do not think that term would typically apply in this case."

Intense desire burned in Kirk, he wondered if Spock could feel it, or even was the source of part of it. He moved to stand before the bed and began removing the ceremonial robe. Naked he laid back on the furs with seductive movements. Spock had not moved, just stood watching him.

"What are you waiting for?" Kirk asked.

Spock stepped up to the bed. "I am savoring the sight of you," he stated.

"Savor me a little closer." Kirk patted the bed beside him.

Spock moved to sit on his feet on the bed, his robed thigh pressing against bare human one. Long fingers traced the still visible scar extending from the top of Kirk's quadricep to the lower corner of his ribcage. Kirk's penis responded by stiffening and he moaned as Spock's hand moved to stroke it. Lips found his own and then his neck and nipple. He sat up as he struggled to slip Spock out of his robe. As the robe slid from muscular shoulders and his hands roamed the firm, furred chest he said, "Oh, how I missed you."

The robe finally gave way and parted to reveal a massive erection. Kirk bent his neck and took the first ridge into his mouth. Spock hips moved to try to thrust into him. Kirk added a hand and stroked knowingly. When he took a break and looked up at the other, Spocks head was canted back in abject pleasure. Kirk kissed the warm chest and teased a nipple, which prompted Spock to take him in his arms.

"Is there oil?" Kirk asked. His own cock demanded release like it never had. "I want you so badly," he whispered.

"You are feeling my desire as well as yours." He reached to the head of the bed to dip his fingers into a rough ceramic bowl. After coating Kirk's erection and watching the nearly maddening desire flare in his beloved's eyes, Spock coated himself.

"You can have me first." Kirk said, studying the gorgeous green shaft bobbing between them.

"We will have each other. There is no other way for us now."

Spock urged Kirk to turn around. Kirk lay on his chest with his hips in the air, legs well-spread. After positioning himself, Spock entered with ease, allowing Kirk a moment before inserting himself past the second ridge. As Spock's first thrust completed, Kirk came.

Never had Kirk felt anything so intense. It was as if someone had turned the volume up on his pleasure so high that he could no longer distinguish any of the sources of it. His balls were emptying into the soft fur beneath him and he knew his was screaming but couldn't control himself. And Spock was still thrusting, sending more pleasure like a high-voltage current through the center of his body.

Eventually the stimulation peaked and drained away and Kirk felt the warm weight of Spock settle against his back.

"Oh, God," Kirk murmured into the long fur beneath him. His eyes were wet from the intensity. Finding the strength somewhere, he rolled over into long arms.

Spock pulled his robe over both of them.

Kirk cracked an eye at him. "Not to complain or anything, but is a good long fuck out of the question now?"

Stroking a round, muscular pectoral Spock replied, "Eventually we will adapt to the multiplicative pleasure."

"I don't know how many times like that I can take," he said, running his fingers through his own hair in disbelief.

Spock shifted, "I think that I can shield enough for both of us." He moved to lay on top of Kirk, their soft organs rubbing together. He shook his head and at Kirk's curious look, explained, "I could not have imagined *wanting* to be here in this place."

"The right company makes all the difference," Kirk teased.

An eyebrow cocked. "Apparently."

Kirk sighed. "So we have how much time left?"

"Thirty-six hours and six point three minutes. Are you bored already?" Spock began working his way down, kissing the smooth chest.

As the lips approached his groin he breathed, "No, not yet." Warm lips drew him in and he gasped. Hands stroked his abdomen and then his thighs and eventually his penis responded. He looked down and watched the dark head descending on him. "I don't know if I can...so soon after...that."

Spock released him a moment. "I can be very patient." He said before returning to his ministrations.

"Oh, God," Kirk breathed.


Well over a Vulcan day later they emerged into the late evening light. Freshened and dressed in formal robes, they found the aircar left for them and headed into the city center. Parking near Spock's parent's estate was impossible. Official Federation and Vulcan vehicles had taken up most of the adjoining streets.

They finally entered the estate through the back, walled garden. A few guests mingled out here, enjoying the cooler evening air. They nodded a greeting and accepted congratulations from the humans. Eventually they found Amanda and Winona in the back rooms away from the main hall.

"Well, don't you look like the cat that ate the canary." Winona said upon seeing her son's face. He grinned and waggled his brow at her in reply.

He kissed her check. "I hope you have been staying occupied?" he said.

"Oh, yes. Amanda has been showing me around Shikahr."

"How are you both?" Amanda asked.

"Good. Very good." Kirk replied for both of them.

Amanda smiled at the two of them then turned to Spock. "Your father is ready to make the introduction." She moved to the door and they followed.

Sarek struck a small gong to gain the attention of the hall. He spoke in Vulcan first, then after gesturing his son and Kirk into the room said, "It is my duty to inform you that James Tiberius cha George Samuel is now also a son of the House of Sarek and T'hy'la to my son Spock. I ask members of my clan to consider them both as close family."

No reaction other than small bows was forthcoming from the Vulcans in the room. They began circulating, Kirk trying hard not to fall into his standard reception mode as this was anything but. Reaction varied from cool respect to warm sociability. McCoy handed him a drink at some point and after that everything was a blur until the call for the meal went out.

The two of them were at the end of one of three long tables. As the human and Vulcan plates were distributed, Kirk finally caught McCoy's eye. He gave him a pleading look and McCoy choked on the strawberry he had just bit into. Coughing he grabbed up the bottle he and the other Enterprise officers were sharing and came over with it. Bending down to serve him, he whispered, "How the hell you holdin' out?"

Kirk grinned at him. "Pretty well."

"Spock?" McCoy asked.

"Yes, Doctor?"

"Ehem." He cleared his throat. "Now, I didn't get a chance to say this sooner, but I thought I still should. You know you have a hell of a catch here." He gestured to Kirk who tried not to flush. "I don't want to hear one thing about you not doing your best by him, ya here?"

Spock looked as though he were considering this with grave seriousness. "Doctor McCoy, I--"

"How much of this have you had, Bones?" Kirk interrupted, indicating the smokey bottle.

"Enough to make it through this party," he answered in a low voice. To Spock he added. "You know your logic won't always carry you through in a marriage, I don't want to catch you not taking care of Jim's needs just because it doesn't strike you as logical to do so."

"You may rest your concerns, Doctor. I do have some experience with Jim's needs."

McCoy straightened. "Well, I suppose that is true." He picked up his bottle and looked from one to the other of them. "Well, y'all need me, I'll be at the next table."

Kirk shook his head as the other departed but couldn't keep from grinning wide with amusement.

As the meal wound down and most humans seemed to be enjoying their third drinks of mild Vulcan wine, Kirk felt he should check on his mother. Winona sat deep in conversation with the bulky, long-mustached man beside her.

"Mister President," Kirk said as he leaned down between them. "Honored you could make it."

Gerald Fredrick pushed his chair back and pumped Kirk's hand with vigor. "Honored to be here my good man. Good to see our peoples getting along with others. Always good to see." He dabbed his mouth with his napkin and cleared his throat. "Your lovely mother and I have been having a wonderful chat about draft horses. Not a lot of breeders these days except on colony planets. Good to know others are keeping it alive on good old Earth."

Kirk nodded and put his hands on Winona's shoulders from behind and leaned close. "Are you having a good time?"

"Oh yes, reminds me that I don't get out much anymore."

"Quite a son you have there," the president said. "Don't know where we'd be without him." Winona patted her son's hand as she saw his embarrassment. "No-siree, we'd have a much less peaceful solar system if it weren't for him."

"We do the best we can Mr. President."

"Well it is definitely appreciated back home. I think your husband is looking for you." He gestured with his broad head.

Kirk looked up and saw Spock standing with the Enterprise officers looking at him with interest.

"Uh, husband isn't quite the word..." Kirk began trying to decide how to explain.

"Ah yes, what word have they been using tonight? Tahaiyla? Has a nice ring to it. What does it mean anyway?" he asked, accepting another mulled wine from a server.

"It means 'lover', Mr. President," Kirk replied, feeling his mother twist under his hands to stare at him in surprise. He grinned down at her mischievously.

"Well, ehem. I guess Vulcans have a habit of being brutally honest in everything else."

"If you will excuse me, Mr. President, Mother?"

"Of course, Captain," Fredrick said, "Better see what...your spouse wants."

Kirk patted his mother's shoulders and left them to themselves.

As he approached, Chekov pulled out a free chair for him. "Have a seat, Captain." Kirk accepted, more exhausted than he had any reason to be.

"Beautiful ceremony, Sir," Sulu said.

"Mercifully short," Kirk added, looking up at Spock across the table from him.

The crew looked at the two of them looking at each other and shifted uneasily enmass. Uhura cleared her throat, "We are all very happy for the two of you, Sir."

"Thank you, Uhura," He said sincerely.


Back on the Enterprise, Kirk almost couldn't stand the quiet of his quarters. Spock was onboard, but only as a passenger on the way back to Fleet headquarters. Even the realization that he may be apart from him again couldn't dispel the joy still brewing in his heart. The door chime was a most welcome sound to break the silence.

The doors parted to reveal Tamarin. "Lieutenant," Kirk greeted him.

Tamarin stepped into the room with his typical long stride. "Sir." He said then took a deep breath. "I've come to request a transfer." He set a data tape on the desk.

"Mr. Tamarin?" Kirk asked, honestly confused.

"Well Sir, I knew when I accepted this post that it was temporary."

Kirk looked grim. "Have any crewmembers been pressuring you to leave?" he demanded.

"No, Sir. Not at all. Which I'm surprised at, Sir. I know they all want Mr. Spock back. I know you obviously want him back and I've been amazed at how hospitable everyone has been. I credit your leadership for that...Sir." He dropped his eyes.

Kirk sat at his desk and pushed Tamarin's tape back at him. "I can't accept your request on these grounds. It isn't fair to you."

Tamarin stared at him in surprise. "Sir." He pursed his lips a moment. "Permission to speak freely, Sir?"

Kirk took an obvious deep breath. "Granted," he eventually said.

Tamarin stepped up and pushed the tape back to Kirk. "Captain Kirk, Sir, I am granting you permission to be selfish just this once."

END

KSOF Challenge:
Spock and Kirk are lovers. Due to Starfleet protocols they have to keep their relationship secret. Unfortunately the truth is revealed. Starfleet decides to separate the best command team they've got. What do Kirk and Spock do?