Star Trek Fic: Out of Time (2/2)

[kagedtiger]

Title: Out of Time
Fandom: Star Trek (new movie)
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Author: Kagedtiger
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Star Trek belongs to its owners, who are not me.
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for the movie and somewhat minor spoilers for "Amok Time." 
Summary: Sequel to "Future Bliss." Two years later, the pon farr finally catches up with them. Part 2/2.

They had to leave the ship separately. They had intended to travel together, but the moment they came within range of sight, Kirk was so overwhelmed with Spock's need to press forward, the need to touch him, to have him, that he turned and fled. He hadn't really intended to, and he felt Spock's hurt as he rounded a corner in the corridor and pressed himself against the wall, heart beating a mile a minute. But the pon farr was too strong now, impossible to resist, and Kirk knew that he would have to be incredibly careful, or else face consequences he was not ready for.

So he let Spock beam down first, waited several minutes, and then beamed down after him. When he appeared, he was struck immediately by the thin, sweltering atmosphere, despite the fact that he had beamed inside a building. He struggled to breathe for a few moments, his breaths larger and deeper to compensate for the lower oxygen. Then, when he was more certain of himself, he examined his surroundings.

The building they were in was more ornamental than he was used to seeing in Vulcan architecture. Vulcans generally favored simplicity - smooth curves and straight lines, fitting together neatly at simple joints. But here he found himself in a room surrounded by ornamental screens, each a carefully carved lattice of winding, twisting shapes. He stepped forward - the far end of the room had several comfortable-looking couches, and gaps in the screens that led out, presumably to hallways or other rooms. All was in varying shades of deep red, like blood, or the desert sand Kirk remembered from countless dreams that were not entirely his own.

An old Vulcan woman stood at the far end of the room, watching him carefully. With a spark of recognition, Kirk realized that he knew her - T'Pau. He'd seen her picture in several articles he'd read at the academy. And beyond that, a memory not his own stirred deeply within him. He hadn't met her before, but Spock had. Old Spock. She had officiated at his wedding. And now...

Kirk blinked, and realized that he could not feel Spock's pon farr. He was aware of Spock's presence - there was none of the crushing loneliness that he'd encountered when Spock had first attempted to suppress the bond - but the insistent heat of the pon farr was completely gone. He felt nothing more than the vaguest hint of Spock, not enough to gauge in any way how the Vulcan was feeling.

"What...?" Kirk asked, unsure as to how to phrase the question.

The old Vulcan woman raised a hand in the traditional sign of Vulcan greeting. Kirk belatedly remembered his manners and echoed it. She was dressed in an extremely elegant formal robe, with a strange black and red headdress. Her eyes on Kirk were emotionless to the point of disdain. "I have blocked the young one from projecting his state." Her voice was strangely accented, in a way that Kirk could not quite place. "This is traditionally done before the Koon'ut Kalifee, so that the woman may make her decision in peace. But I understand that this ceremony is not the reason for thy presence?"

Kirk shook his head, wondering how much she knew already. Had she already looked into Spock's mind? "I... we want to dissolve the engagement bond, so that he can bond with a Vulcan woman. I'm... I'm not suitable for... I don't want..." he trailed off. His thoughts were a confused jumble. He wasn't sure what he wanted anymore, especially after nearly a week of being tormented by Spock's needs. He didn't know what he wanted, or even how much of what he wanted was actually what Spock wanted. It had been so long since he'd been able to hear himself think, alone, that he wasn't sure he remembered how.

T'Pau's gaze was cold and rigid. Kirk felt that nothing could possibly be hidden from those impassive eyes. "Such a ceremony presents some danger to thee and thine," she warned. "The mind is not a simple thing, nor the heart. Hast thou considered thy decision?"

"We have," said Kirk. Because they had. This was what they had always intended from the very beginning, though the impending reality of it made his heart ache. He looked around, suddenly uncertain. Where was Spock? This decision was his as well, pon farr or no.

"Spock shall not see thee again until the separation is complete and he wedded to another," said T'Pau. "He is in the chambers of the Male, and thou in the chambers of the Female. Thou shalt meet his bride, as he has requested, and from hence they shall go forth and meet each other, and become one mind. The ceremony must be completed immediately. Little time remains."

Kirk nodded. "What do I need to do?"

"Lie there," T'Pau instructed, gesturing to a soft reclining couch to one side of the room. Kirk did as he was told and lay back, and T'Pau came to his side, looking down on him. She reached a hand forward, and Kirk felt the soft, dry tips of her fingers come to rest on his face. With an almost blissful ease, he felt his mind slide forward at her command, as though he were stepping out of himself. She stepped back, and he followed, except that it was not him, because he was still lying on the cot. It was only his consciousness, wrapped carefully in hers, that traveled.

From his strange vantage in T'Pau's presence, Kirk felt her travel to a small door, built into the screen so as to be nearly invisible. She removed a small key from around her neck and unlocked it, gliding through and closing it behind her. In this room, decorated almost identically to Kirk's, lay Spock on a similar couch. His eyes were closed, and he moved not a single muscle. T'Pau approached him, and placed her other hand on Spock's face, the mirror image to her position on Kirk's.

And then suddenly, the room was gone. Kirk stood in a blinding white desert with Spock directly in front of him, facing him. His face was unreadable, and Kirk could not feel enough of his emotions to tell what was beneath the surface of that mask.

"Turn. Turn away." The voice was T'Pau's, but she was nowhere to be seen. Kirk wasn't even sure that the words were being physically spoken; he might have heard them only with his mind.

Spock met his gaze solemnly, held it for a moment and then turned his back. Somewhat more shakily, Kirk turned as well.

"Thy paths are not to be together," intoned the deep, steady voice. "It shall end here, at the Parting of Ways. Walk."

Almost against his will, Kirk began to walk forward, through the blinding desert. The sun was high, glancing off the white sand and making it nearly impossible to see. He lifted a hand to his face and kept walking. The sand extended all around him - no rocks, no features of any kind. Just endless, endless white sand.

"As the day turns to night, as all things grow cold and wither away into nothingness, so also shall this."

Kirk walked, not sure how far he could make it in the oppressive heat. But momentarily, he realized that this wouldn't be a problem. As he walked, the sun was sinking towards the horizon in front of him. Soon night would fall, and the sands would cool.

As he strode forward, Kirk was aware of thoughts, emotions, fading from his mind. Spock, that beloved presence, was disappearing piece by piece. Not as he had when Spock had tried to block their connection - this fading was hazy. Dream-like. Kirk stopped. Nothing happened. He concentrated on Spock's mind within his own, but there was no answer. The flicker of his presence still remained, but that was all. Kirk kept walking. Pace by pace, the presence faded like a clearing mist. The desert stretched before him, cooling, empty. As far as the eye could see, emptiness, loneliness. He could walk forever alone in this desert.

Kirk looked back over his shoulder, and could make out Spock as a small form in the distance, walking away from him.

"Thou must not turn back," T'Pau warned. "Walk."

And so he did. And the sun slipped lower, and lower towards the horizon, and the darkness began to encroach upon the desert. Almost gone - the barest flicker of presence. Just a little farther and he would be alone once more, alone in the desert. Alone in the universe. Alone- Kirk fell to his knees.

"Walk," insisted the voice.

"I can't," Kirk gasped. "I can't. Please don't leave me alone. Please..."

"Thou must," said the voice. "Thou must walk."

"No!" Kirk gripped his sides, rocking slightly. He felt dizzy. He felt weak, and alone, and unsafe. This wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want to be alone in the desert. He'd felt what it was like to walk with a companion, and he could not be alone again. He couldn't. "Spock," he whispered, "don't leave me. Please, Spock. I don't want this. I need you."

"Thy weakness can only hinder him."

"I don't care!" Kirk screamed at the voice. "I can't do this! I need him! I'll be what he needs, just don't- Spock! Spock, don't leave me alone here!" He struggled to his feet and spun, intending to sprint back, to stop Spock from moving away, but the moment he turned, he found himself right back where they had both started, mere feet away from each other. Spock's back was still turned. In relief, Kirk stretched out his hand, only to find that he was unable to touch the Vulcan. Though Spock was close enough, the length of Kirk's arm could not seem to cover the distance between them, though he reached vainly.

"Spock!" he cried, willing the Vulcan to turn. "Please. Please, Spock. Come back. Don't go out there alone. Please. You can't leave me here." He shouted, stretched out with mind, body, and voice until he ached in every fiber of his being, but still the Vulcan's back remained turned.

"He cannot continue if thou dost not. Walk. Turn, and walk."

"No," Kirk denied softly. "No. It won't end like this. It can't. This can't be how it goes. I don't care if it means I'm weak. I know how this is meant to be, and dammit, he's meant to be with me! He's mine! I've had him this long. No one else can take him from me, you hear me? Do you hear me?! He's been my first officer, my friend, and dammit, he can be my husband too or consort or whatever, if that's what it takes! Do you hear?! I won't let him go!" By this point he was shouting at the sky, daring the voice to contradict him. But no words came. At least, not from her.

"Jim."

Kirk looked back down to see that Spock had turned, and was smiling at him with an expression half sad, half bemused. Only in dreams did Kirk ever get to see that much expression on his face. "You really cannot do anything without making a scene, can you?" the Vulcan said wearily, but there was a fondness in his voice.

"No," said Kirk, smiling back. "I can't."

"You realize what this means?" Spock asked him quietly. "If the bond remains, and we do not consummate it, I will die."

"I know," Kirk replied, swallowing. "So be it. I need you, Spock. If this is what I have to do to keep you, then so be it."

Spock closed his eyes and with a dizzying relief, Kirk felt him again - although still strangely muted - Spock's mild amusement seeping into him. "Then, as you say. So be it."

The desert was gone and Kirk was sitting up on the cot, disoriented. T'Pau was standing a few feet away, and Kirk suspected that had she not been a Vulcan, she would have been scowling.

"Sorry," said Kirk with a cocky half-smirk. 'I'm a human. Humans change their minds sometimes."

"So it is," said T'Pau. "Thou shalt have two hours in which to make thy preparations for the marriage ceremony. Prepare thy body now; thou wilt not have time when the plak tow is upon him. I have left the knowledge of the ritual in thy mind." She bowed her head to him slightly. "I leave thee to ready thyself." And she swept out.

Kirk stared after her, somewhat confused. But, consulting his memories, he found that he did know exactly what was to happen in the ceremony. It was uncanny. Following these new thoughts, he made his way to an ornately-carved cabinet of dark wood on the far side of the room. Throwing open the door, he was startled to see a very wide variety of potions, oils, salves, and similar. He had a moment to wonder what they were for before his mind informed him, and he blushed a crimson to match the walls.

"What have I gotten myself into now?" he muttered. He reached into the cabinet and pulled out a small, clear vial with a silver stopper. He pulled off the top and sniffed the contents. A mysterious and spicy aroma. He felt the vial warming in his hand to match his body heat.

He replaced the vial and closed the cabinet, unable to deal with the reality of what its contents meant at the moment. Dozens of jars, each liquid with its own purpose, to cleanse him inside and out, to prepare his body for... He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the dark wood. This was real. This was actually going to happen. Why had he- but there was no point in asking that question. He'd done what he had to to keep Spock. And now, he would continue to do what he had to. He already knew that he would die for the Vulcan. What was this, but another way of giving his life for Spock?

Kirk sighed and glanced to the side of the cabinet, where a neatly-folded garment lay innocently on a couch. A ceremonial robe. He'd have to change into it. They were always simple, his mind told him. No point in ornamentation - the garment rarely survived the coupling. Kirk felt himself blushing again, and scowled. No. This might be embarrassing for him, but for Spock it was a life or death situation. He couldn't afford to back out now.

With a sigh, Kirk started taking off his shirt. He'd made his decision. That was the hard part. All he had to do now was follow through with it. Simple, right?

When T'Pau returned, she was not alone. Several stone-faced guards in ornamental armor accompanied her. Two held strange, shield-shaped arrays of bells, two others bore a throne-like chair in which T'Pau sat. There were also a pair of weapon-bearers, and a man in a black mask who looked like an executioner. T'Pau had changed, exchanging one set of formal robes for another, almost painfully ornate, and removing her headdress in favor of a towering, braided hairstyle.

"Art thou prepared?" she asked, stone-faced.

Kirk took a deep breath. He wasn't. Well, he was physically. But he was very much not ready for what was about to happen, and he knew it. He nodded anyway.

The marriage procession lined up, and Kirk took his place behind T'Pau's chariot. He was wearing the robe they had provided him, sleek, thin, and with very short sleeves. It was cool in the hot atmosphere, much cooler than his Starfleet uniform, and for that he was grateful, even more so as they stepped out of the hot and stuffy building into the even hotter blazing sun that shone mercilessly down on the red desert. Not Vulcan, but so very similar. The colonists had done well.

From the door of the building - the temple, Kirk now realized - they made their way through a rocky pass, great shoulders of red rock heaved up from the ground on either side. They walked only a few minutes before the procession stopped, waiting. The only sound was the harsh jangling of the bells as the two guards in the front shook their instruments. It was a strange sound, harsh, frightening. Kirk frowned, consulting his own new memories to find out why they'd stopped. Ah yes. They were waiting for...

A clear, ominous gong rang out, shimmering through the air around them like heat over the desert. The bell-shakers began to move once more, and Kirk had no choice but to follow the procession. He wondered if the black-masked man standing directly behind him would execute him for cowardice if he ran.

When the pass led them into the arena, Kirk was somewhat surprised to find Spock standing there alone. He knew intellectually that they had had to come by themselves, that no one could have accompanied them without revealing their secret, but his new memories were insisting that the male was supposed to be accompanied. Where were his watchers?

The arena was large, probably thirty or forty feet wide in diameter, and surrounded on all sides by tall upright stones, still and silent, like sentinels. The surface in their midst was sand, but for a raised dais of red rock in the center. On top of the dais was a fire of glowing coals, on which incense burned, flavoring the air with a pungent spice. And above that hung a strangely geometric gong. Kirk knew its sound already as the strangely resonant call that had brought them here.

Kirk came to a stop next to T'Pau. Spock was staring at him, face expressionless as usual. Kirk could hear his own heart thudding painfully loud and fast in his chest. Could Spock hear it too?

The bells stopped. Spock approached T'Pau, his hand raised in greeting, and knelt before her. With her eyelids lowered, the old Vulcan reached forward and pressed her fingertips to his face. Moments later he stood. Kirk wondered what purpose that meld had served - T'Pau had already melded with Spock earlier, must know he was in pon farr, and that he was bonded to Kirk. She had already shielded his mind from Kirk, so his decision was not affected by the pon farr of his betrothed. There was no further reason for the meld.

But that was how it had always been done, and that was how it would always continue to be done.

"Kalifar," T'Pau intoned, pointing toward the gong.

Now was the time he could challenge if he wanted to, Kirk knew. 'Speak now, or forever hold your peace,' he thought. He didn't move. Watched as Spock made his way - were his legs shaking? - to the gong. The bell-shakers followed him, their discordant ringing accompanying his silent footsteps as he lifted a small mallet from its stone pedestal and rang the gong once more. The sound resonated in Kirk's very bones, seized up his lungs for a moment, until its echoes finally died away.

Now T'Pau looked at him, and as before, Kirk felt as though it was impossible to hide anything from that piercing stare. "Kalifar," she said again, this time gesturing from him to the gong. Kirk nodded and stepped forward, heading towards the opposite side of the dais from Spock. For a panicked moment, he wasn't certain what he should be doing. But his new memories were quick to surface, as though T'Pau were steadily guiding him through the ceremony step by step.

At the dais, Spock had already replaced the mallet on its pedestal. Kirk picked it up and rang the gong himself. Nothing else happened while they waited for its echoes to die away. When all was silence and heat once more, T'Pau said "K'rhth'a."

Spock turned to his side, where one of the bell-shakers stood, and Kirk turned to the one nearest himself. The bell-shakers handed them each a small pouch. When Kirk untied the thong around the top, a strong scent, like rosemary and basil and something else he could not quite define, something sharper, rose to his nostrils. He held the bag in his left hand, reached in with his right and withdrew a pinch of the herbs. In unison with Spock, he dropped the herbs onto the coals between them. Immediately the smoke rose from it, scenting the air between them, their clothing, their skin. It made Kirk feel light-headed, but he breathed it in deeply, his lungs desperate for oxygen in the thin air.

The ceremony was not long. Twice more they rang the gong and threw the herbs onto the fire, until Kirk thought he might pass out from the heady smoke. Each time, T'Pau intoned a short verse. Kirk could not make out the meaning. Finally, the Vulcan Elder beckoned them both forward once more. They knelt before her, and she placed one hand on each of their faces.

Kirk felt very little from her, merely a brush of inquiry against his mind. She was checking to see if he was ready, giving him one last chance to challenge. He swallowed and shook his head minutely. Seconds later, he felt the effect of her contact with Spock. She had taken down the barrier against the effects of the pon farr, and Spock's lust hit him like a stone wall, knocking what air he had left from his lungs. Beneath the still calm, almost trance-like exterior, Kirk felt a need that bordered on rage, and a hyper-sensitive awareness of Kirk's presence.

T'Pau opened her eyes and removed her hands, and the two of them stood. The marriage guard assembled once more - the weapon-bearers and throne-men gathered around T'Pau, escorting her back towards the temple, while the bell-shakers took their place in front of the new couple, and the black-masked man behind. They led them out the other side of the arena, and into the desert. Kirk spotted their destination almost immediately.

It was bizarre to see green again after the harsh, dry colors of the desert. But green it was - a solid green dome in the middle of the sandy wastes. As they drew closer, Kirk realized that the dome was in fact made up of strings of small round, flat leaves. Between them he caught sight of dark branches. It was a tree, resembling nothing more than a weeping willow, except that its foliage went all the way down to the ground, and its leaves were of a different shape and slightly different shade.

About twenty feet away, the guard stopped. The bell-shakers shook their bells, three short bursts, and stepped aside. Kirk and Spock moved forward between them towards the tree. Upon reaching it they parted the leaves, and Kirk was astonished at what they found beneath - the entire space enclosed by the tree's leaves was covered in a thick carpet of moss, and the roots on one side enclosed a sizable pool of water. The area was large - perhaps even larger than the arena had been, although much space was taken up in the middle by the tree's massive trunk. On the other side of the tree, across from the pool, someone had placed several vacuum-insulated crates. Food, Kirk realized. And then he was distracted.

Spock had already knelt down on the moss, resting between his heels, and was staring at him again. Kirk quickly followed him, kneeling down across from him.

Spock raised a hand towards him and opened his mouth, trying to speak. But Kirk could feel how difficult it was for him, how overwhelming even the effort to speak past the rising tide of the plak tow. Kirk smiled, somewhat self-deprecating, and took Spock's wrist in his hand - feeling the Vulcan's entire body go rigid with shock and sensation at the light touch - lifting Spock's fingers up to his face. "It's okay," he assured him quietly.

And then suddenly, it wasn't okay. Feeling Spock's lust second-hand was entirely different from the way Spock's mind swept into his, a tidal wave of force, enveloping him and nearly carrying away his own mind. All he could feel was need, want, and he couldn't tell what was his, what was Spock, where he started or ended, whose hands, whose back against the soft moss, the sound of ripping fabric, the desperation of flesh, and the heat, the endless, endless, drowning heat.

Kirk returned to his senses at some time early the next morning, but it was still half the day before Spock regained his enough to be coherent. When he did, the Vulcan looked with guilt at the mottled bruising that covered nearly every inch of the captain's naked skin. Kirk could feel the guilt very clearly now. The bond was different, now that it had been consummated. Where before he had had vague impressions of Spock's emotions, he now had vivid images, sensations and impressions that were so concrete they were nearly words.

Kirk smiled up at the canopy of leaves above him. Spock's emotions were particularly amusing - intense guilt at the pain he'd caused, but behind the guilt, remaining lust and a sort of puppy-like hope that Kirk might still be willing to give him more. "Give me a second to catch my breath," Kirk told him fondly, and felt Spock flop down onto the moss next to him.

They breathed quietly for a time in silence, feeling out the new bond, testing its strength, its depth. Spock reached over and rested a hand on Kirk's bare chest, and his contentment and pleasure came into sharp focus with the physical contact.

"Tell me about the oasis," said Kirk eventually.

"The Masu'lop, the water tree," said Spock. "We used to have them on Vulcan. They grow near underground water sources. When they are young, they look like a dark, blackened cinder coming out of the ground, as though scourged by fire. But as the roots delve deeper and deeper, they soften the ground and begin to raise the water towards the surface. The leaves grow out from the top of the trunk and shade the area around the tree's base. Out of the hot sun, the symbiotic moss carried under the tree's bark can grow on the now-soft earth, as far as the edges of the canopy. The water comes to the surface and feeds the moss, the moss enriches the soil, and the tree grows bigger. As the tree grows bigger, its canopy increases and the moss spreads, rejuvenating and hydrating the soil further out, and so on. They are partners, the trees and the moss. And the alcoves they create, oases like this one, are much valued by all the area fauna."

"Mm," said Kirk, drowsy, and then huffed as Spock rolled over on top of him. Their skin clung together with sweat.

"Have you caught your breath?" asked Spock, looking eagerly into his eyes.

Kirk smiled.

"We will have to inform Dr. McCoy," said Spock two days later as they made ready to beam up from the temple.

"We will?" Kirk asked. He wasn't exactly thrilled about the idea. Bones was going to make fun of him for the rest of his life, he was sure of it.

"You will need regular treatment for your wounds while they are healing." Kirk could feel the Vulcan's guilt. "And it will be far easier to explain than to maintain a falsehood. Besides which, if we encounter any other problems later, a medical officer is a valuable ally to have."

Kirk considered all the very useful supplies in the medical bay that might be difficult to get discreetly otherwise and had to agree. "Alright," he said with a sigh. "I'll tell him. Are you ready?"

Spock nodded and reached out a hand, helping Kirk to his feet. Kirk accepted it gratefully, standing stiffly and moving with a limp over to the transporter pad. "Yes, I know. It's alright," he said, as Spock opened his mouth to apologize again. Kirk flipped out his communicator and hailed the Enterprise. "Two to beam up," he said. "Energize when ready."

When they arrived on the transporter pad, Kirk was surprised to find not McCoy, but Uhura waiting for them.

Nyota, said Spock's mind in surprise. Out loud he said, perfectly calmly, "Lieutenant Uhura."

"Commander," she responded with a nod of her head, and then turned to Kirk. "Captain, Admiral Komack has contacted us several times, wondering where we are."

Kirk swore softly. "Get us on course to Altair Six as soon as possible. I'll handle him later."

"Yes, Captain." Uhura frowned at him. "Weren't they supposed to cure whatever was wrong with you down there? You don't look too good."

"I'm fine," said Kirk. "I just need a quick once-over from Bones. I'm gonna head to sickbay now. Spock, head back to the bridge with her and make sure we get set on course. We can't afford to piss off Komack any further."

"Yes Captain," said Spock. And his mind said, Worry. Alright? Alright? Certain?

Kirk nodded reassuringly at him and walked with them until the corridor diverged and he could make his way into the sickbay, where he sat gingerly on one of the medical cots. "Bones?" he called. "You in here?" He began to gingerly remove his shirt.

"Yeah, I'm comin'. So how did- Good lord, Jim! What happened to you?"

"Not much." Kirk grinned at McCoy as the doctor goggled at his bruises. "It was a hell of a honeymoon."

McCoy scowled at him in silence for a few seconds and said finally, "I can't tell whether you're joking."

"I'm not, Bones."

"You mean to tell me," McCoy began, his scowl deepening, "that we came all this way, and went through so much trouble, so that you and that damned pointy-eared goblin could elope?! Are you crazy?!"

Kirk laughed, but with little humor. "It was a life-or-death situation, Bones. It's a Vulcan thing. I couldn't just... let him die."

"Well, it looks like he very nearly killed you in the process. What in hell's name happened down there?"

So Kirk told him. He left out most of the gory details, but gave him enough to explain the scratches and bruises that covered his body. McCoy had a look on his face like all of this was giving him a headache, and as Kirk continued the look become more and more dour.

When he'd finally finished, McCoy shook his head disgustedly. "I can't leave you alone for two seconds without you getting into some sort of trouble." He made his way over to a cabinet and lifted out three small jars. Stomping back to Kirk, he thrust them at him. "This one's for the bruises, this one's for cuts and scratches, and this one," he handed it over with a meaningful look, "is for friction burns."

Kirk couldn't stop a smile, although it was not without embarrassment. "Thanks, Bones."

"Well, congratu-fucking-lations."

Kirk was somewhat surprised when Spock showed up in his bedroom that night, although he supposed perhaps he shouldn't have been. "What will people say," he remarked jokingly. Spock remained solemn.

"A Vulcan marriage is binding in the Federation," he replied seriously. "The rule regarding fraternization among officers no longer applies in this case." Kirk smiled and rolled his eyes, but didn't comment. Spock continued. "I am here to test a theory."

"Oh?" Kirk reclined comfortably on his bed, as Spock stood somewhat awkwardly in the doorway. He could sense his first officer's uncertainty, and wondered what he could possibly have to be worried about. "And what theory is that?"

"I have come to see if you are still physically attracted to me when I am not in pon farr, and thus not exerting my will upon your psyche."

Now Kirk raised both eyebrows. Was that it? With a start he realized that, given his own behavior leading up to the marriage ceremony, it was not such a wild conclusion to have leapt to. Did Spock really think that Kirk had only slept with him because he'd been lonely and mentally coerced?

"Spock," said Kirk slowly. He patted the bed next to him, and as Spock moved to his side, continued, "I'm not sure what more I could've done to prove how much I need you. And we're married now, so I'm certainly not going to be able to get sex anywhere else, not with the bond as strong as it is. Even if I wasn't attracted to you, it wouldn't mean much." Spock reached his side, and Kirk raised a hand to the Vulcan's neck, using the physical contact to sharpen the bond, to impose his meaning upon Spock as strongly as he could.

"But you are," said Spock in a low voice.

"I am," Kirk agreed. "Maybe it is just a side effect of the bond. I don't know. But regardless of the source, I feel it, and that makes it real. I just have one request." He held up a single finger.

"Yes?" Spock asked, already pushing him down against the bed.

Kirk wondered how on earth he could have any sexual energy left after the three and half days they'd had on Vulcan, but didn't question it. "You let me be the man. At least once in a while."

Spock didn't laugh. He was a Vulcan, and Vulcans did not laugh. But Kirk heard the laugh in his mind nevertheless, and it was the clearest, most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.

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