Ship olympics: Event 2: Team Threesome
Title: Four measures of a dance.
Creator(s): Yuuzaiden, Badgerpride89, Darke_wulf
Universe: AOS
Word Count:7098
Rating: PG
Summary: When asked how our ship started, we replied “which one?” First steps of four different threesomes. Pairings included: OFC/Gaila/OFC, Scotty/Uhura/McCoy, Sarek/Kirk/Spock!Prime, Scotty/Mccoy/Kirk
Disclaimer: Star Trek and all related elements, characters and indicia © CBS Studios Inc. All Rights Reserved. All characters and situations-save those created by the authors for use solely on this website-are copyright CBS Studios Inc.. All Star Trek images are reproduced here solely for the purposes of promotion and publicity of this licenced property. This is a fan website in no way affiliated with Paramount Pictures, CBS Studios, Bad Robot Films, or any of the above copyright and trademark holders of Star Trek.
Dance one: Remembrance
Smoke trailed up from the incense burner, the scent all wrong, too woodsy and faint over the wet grass. It was different, but acceptable in the light of a single moon. Bowing her head in the light, engineering Officer Udania dug her hands up under her dress, peeling the scarlet top up and away baring her emerald skin and the tiny freckles over her shoulders. Boots, socks and the rest of her clothing followed, pooling on the walkway. Once bared of everything she stepped out onto the grass easing into the ring of scattered herbs and flowers.
Prickling and soft, the feel was unlike the sanded planes of her planet or the comforting confines of starships; each step kicks up the scents of home, familiar and distant at once. She bowed and turned, raising her hands to the lights above calling down the steps of her people from the stars. It was hard finding her feet alone, the rhythm awkward and clumsy. Dances of praise and worship were never meant to be performed alone. There was too much room to falter and stumble, no supporting shoulders to keep her in place as she weaved and spun. Still she curled and stretched extending her hands to the shrouded stars once more, calling out to the Orion system light-years away.
Her mother was singing, that golden voice rising up higher than those of her sisters in the circle. They carried the melody as the great mother kept time with the drums. Hands rose and fell, waving with the sway of hips and ringing of chimes. It was the way of home, her clan. Clapping her palms she bowed again, before throwing back her head in wordless song.
Her hair shone in the light, swaying with each step and dip, having been loosened about her shoulders before the dance even began. The tickle of the vibrant strands grounded her to the earth and cloying scent of the planet. She clung to the stabilizing influences of this strange little world where she could have been just as easily lost to the drumbeat of her memories.
A voice called out across the campus, halting the woman in her tracks. She had almost the gall to look guilty as the senior officer in gold approached, the shadows of the walkway hardly obscuring her face and muting the brilliant color of her uniform. Standing proud in nothing but her bravery, the Udania faced her superior with a hesitant smile. The expression changed once her disciplinarian stepped into the light.
Below the ranking bars of her uniform and curtain of ebony hair was skin as green as the grass below their feet.
“Your form is wrong,” the Commander accused, ignoring the flagrant rule violations in favor of aesthetic critique. Staring back Udania wasn’t impressed or fazed in the least by the remark. “And your beat is slow.”
From beyond the trailing smoke, her remark was countered as yet another green skinned beauty approached, hands spread in greeting. “It’s not her form that’s the problem. It is her dance that cries out for accompaniment. She is without sisters, without clan. .”
Almost shivering with the chill in the air, the engineer finds a smile coming to her lips as she faces the pair. The green lady of command is hesitant at first, her eyes nearly gray in the faint in the shadows. It’s there in the way she holds herself, the way the golden shirt molds to her form, with her chin raised, lips pursed. She longs to dance or to least be apart of one again. There’s no doubt she’s been on earth longer than the other officers of her kind. The science officer is a different story all together, shimmying out of her dress with practiced ease, her hips rising with each tap of her feet. The beat is coming again, louder than before, pulling them along. This is the first time they have danced with strangers, for the welcoming arms of their sisters are so far away. Here they are outsiders, but the still the same.
Despite their familiarity her words are still harsh and cold.
“I would never presume.”
They offer their hands anyway, warm and welcoming, a call to any wayward sister.
The incense has almost burnt out, but hands rise again in celebration, in praise. The boots are gone just as easily, leaving another Orion barefoot in the grass. Their colonies are different; it’s as obvious as the shades of their skin, but their movements are matched down to the curl of their fingers and tilts of their head. There are no chimes or beads but the dance is all the same, the drumbeat of their feet over the grass kicking up the scents of home all mingling with the heady earth and smoke about their ankles.
Goldie leaves on her shirt, the ranking marks more than enough to leave them unmolested, at least for the duration of the dance. While science girl has shed all but her skivvies, hair flowing with each turn they make, clapping and bouncing with each step. Hands to hands and skin to skin, the trio rolls and bobs their sweat slicked bodies following a rhythm only they know. It’s in their blood and it sings out, these three sisters remembering the steps drummed into them by mothers and aunts, elders in the orion way.
They’re panting by the end, the grass trampled in twisting arcs, their demented fairy ring the only physical testament to what has occurred. The green ladies are grinning and panting they squirm their way into their clothes, hands lingering over sweaty skin for moments longer than they should.
It’s funny, the way they’re dressed, colors symbolizing more than just their jobs, but the trinity they represent even now, in the middle of the night shivering in the dark. They’re still proud, austere and sincere; standing tall as they touch once more without the drums echoing in their head. Udania spoke first pushing back her hair as she greeted the women who’d shared her dance.
“How ‘bout some coffee?”
Gold takes her hand nodding as blue bows once more, retrieving the burner from stamped earth. They are sisters now, bound in the song as much as they are bound to the banner under which they have met. Red leads the way, her boots echoing on the pavement. She smiles again, the scent of sandalwood faint on her skin. Hand in hand they offer their names, bowing their heads to moon once more.
“Well met, sisters.”
For the first time in forever, Gaila is home.
Dance Two: Heartache
Leonard wasn’t the kind of man who loved easily. He guarded his heart beyond sense and so it was a patient or sneaky soul that worked his or her way into his affections. He liked being alone. If he was alone, he couldn’t be hurt by those around him.
“Leonard,” Uhura’s gentle voice prodded him back into the present.
He grinned thinly in apology. She smirked but didn’t call him on it. “Scotty and I are thinking about heading to the opera tonight. Would you care to join us?”
He shouldn’t. If he had any sense left, he would decline her enthusiastic offer and never speak with her again. But he never did have sense when it came to those within his borders.
“Sure. Be glad to,” he answered, his grin firmly masking the turmoil swirling underneath his skin.
Uhura smiled. It always had been a gorgeous one. “That’s great. Meet us at our place at seven. And Len,” she finished with a half-teasing, half-serious smirk, “If I catch you wearing that hideous white jumpsuit you own-“
“My head will roll,” he said dutifully, “Understood, ma’am.” He mock-saluted her as she cut the connection. Leonard sagged in his seat. Well, you brought this on yourself, McCoy, he berated himself, now you’re going to enjoy it.
~
Leonard didn’t know when it started. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Two years ago, his best friends shattered his world. Spock left and Jim decided being a living zombie of a jerk was better than being friends. It hurt. A lot. Still stung to think about it so he tried not to. In his darkest days, when he was nursing his hurt and wondering why he didn’t see the abandonment coming, Scotty and Uhura were there. They refused to give up on him like he’d given up on himself. Leonard wasn’t sure when gratitude for their friendship mutated into jealousy at their relationship and longing to join them but it did.
But he’d made his bed and so he’d lie in it. The last thing he wanted was to mess up what they had or to mess up his friendships. He’d dealt with that too often, thanks. As there was no way in the world he could ask them to choose or choose himself, he’d squirrel away those thoughts until not even that damn Vulcan could find them.
He arrived at their apartment ten minutes before seven as he was taught and rang the chime. Leonard blinked when the door whooshed open.
“Why aren’t you dressed? Uhura-” Leonard stopped short at the guilty look Scotty wore.
“We…sort of..,” Scotty squirmed before waving Leonard in, “Just come in, Leonard.”
Leonard’s heart stopped as he automatically walked in to find Uhura standing guardedly.
They know. The thought cycled through his head over and over again as he shook off Scotty’s offer of a drink. His normally quick mind was at a loss to say something, anything, to stop what he knew was coming. Uhura sat in the chair next to the couch Leonard was directed to while Scotty made himself comfortable on the coffee table.
“Look,” Leonard forced over the lump in his throat, “I’m sorry. I really am…”
Scotty and Uhura traded looks. “Sorry about what, Len?” Uhura asked gently.
Leonard blinked and backtracked. “Nothing. Look, if we’re not-“
Scotty caught Leonard’s gaze with his own. “You’ve been acting off for a while, Leonard,” he said quietly, “What’s wrong?”
“Please don’t lie to us,” Uhura almost pleaded.
Leonard couldn’t say no to those two. Still… “You’re going to hate me afterwards.”
“Why don’t you let us be the judge of that, eh?” Scotty returned.
Leonard took a deep breath and refused to look at them. “I’m jealous, is
all. You have each other and I have…” he trailed off.
“Len,” Uhura placed her hand on his shoulder, “Are you jealous we’re in a relationship and you’re not or are you jealous of us?”
Here it comes, Leonard thought before taking the plunge. “You two.”
Silence reigned for a moment. But Uhura’s hand remained firmly on his shoulder and Scotty hadn’t decked him yet. That had to be a good sign, right?
“Which of us are you jealous of, Len?” Uhura asked softly.
“Both of you,” he said behind clenched teeth.
One could hear a pin drop after that declaration.
Then Scotty spoke. “I told you, lass,” he said.
Leonard launched himself from his seat, snarling. “You told her-“
“Easy, Leonard,” Scotty placated, “Easy. Let me explain.”
“So you can make a fool outta me?” Leonard snarled, “No thank you.”
“No one’s making a fool out of anyone,” Scotty said patiently, “Leonard, we were going to ask ya to join us.”
“Don’t toy with me,” Leonard almost yelled.
“We aren’t,” Uhura said calmly and matter-of-factly as she replaced her hand on his shoulder, “We’ve been talking about this for months. I didn’t believe Scotty when he said you might be interested.”
“She’s telling the truth, lad,” Scotty said, placing his own hand on Leonard’s shoulder, “We won’t force ya into anything but you should know we’ve thinking about this for a long time. We need you.”
Leonard snorted at that. Who could need him in a relationship?
“You helped us stay focused,” Uhura said and Leonard realized he actually asked his question out loud, “On each other, on you, on ourselves. In case you never noticed, work usually came first for us.”
“And who else am I supposed to compare drinks with? The lass here has the poorest taste this side of the Mutara Nebula,” Scotty teased.
McCoy snorted. “That’s not very damn funny.”
“But you’re laughing anyway,” Scotty returned.
True.
Leonard sagged.
“You mean it?” he asked softly.
They nodded.
“All right then.” Who was he to fight this? Especially if they wanted it too.
“You sure?” Scotty teased, “The lass is damned possessive once she’s got you in her clutches.”
“With two such wonderful men? You better believe I am.”
Leonard laughed, leaning on Scotty slightly.
“So now what do we do?” he asked.
Scotty and Uhura traded dangerous looks. She snapped her fingers and soft music filled the room.
Leonard raised an eyebrow as Uhura stepped back. Scotty shifted and held out his hands. At Leonard’s confused look, Scotty stepped forward and pulled him into an old-fashioned waltzing embrace.
“Just this once, seeing as you’re the new guy, I’ll let you lead,” Scotty said as he did just that.
Leonard smirked as they slowly moved across the room. “Just this once, huh?”
“Because I’m such a nice guy at heart.”
“I think you’ll find more to your advantage to let me lead every once in a while,” Leonard retorted as the song ended and Scotty stepped back.
“I look forward to it,” he promised as Uhura gracefully took his place.
Leonard spun, dipped, and otherwise led a giggling Uhura through a much faster tune until they were both breathless with delight. As Scotty had done at the end of their song, Leonard stepped back and watched his new lovers dance across the room.
There would be time enough later to sort out the details of such a simple yet complicated relationship. For now, as Leonard joined them on the fourth through tenth songs, he was content to just be in the moment and leave the worrying to tomorrow.
Dance three: Grief and Beauty
Disclaimer: I don’t own them. I’m not making money from them.
Author’s Note: Sarek is going to be out of character in this. My position is that, after losing his bondmate, his planet, and the majority of his race, he’d be more than a little compromised… Also, Vulcans are presented in a somewhat negatively fashion (via Sarek’s thoughts) - his bondmate, who he must have known was looked down upon by the rest of his race, just died. I think a little belated protectiveness and anger is justified.
******
“I want to love and be loved.... I don't want a world without love or grief or beauty. I'd rather die.” ~ Daniel Mainwaring
******
“You once asked me why I married your mother. I married her because I loved her.”
******
She was gone.
His beloved Amanda was gone. He could no longer feel her mind - bright, dynamic, and so very human - in the back of his own. He knew he was compromised, the backlash of his people dying had ripped through his mind, breaking through his shields as if they had never been present. And yet, with all the death, with all the horror and insanity of what had occurred, it was her loss - that terrible new silence in his mind where before there had been joy and laughter and love - that was all he could focus on. He had a responsibility to those few of his people that remained to be strong, to serve as an example of control and logic in the face of this terrible new reality and yet… and yet…
She was gone.
******
Deep into ship’s night, Sarek walked the corridors of the Enterprise, as much as possible keeping to those areas remote enough to be only sparsely populated. Unable to sleep or meditate, he sought to grasp some measure of - not peace, he did not believe he would ever know peace again - but at least a lessening of the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.
The Enterprise was hobbling back to Earth. Preventing Nero from destroying the planet had come at a great cost to the ship. With warp engines destroyed and the impulse engines damaged in the escape from the singularity, it was anticipated that the trip to earth would take at minimum seventy-nine point three five hours. Several warp-capable transport ships had been employed to ferry the injured to Earth more rapidly, but the Vulcan Council had turned down the offer for the Vulcan survivors not injured to also leave the ship. The process would have added at least thirteen point eight hours to the journey of the Enterprise - an illogical waste of time and resources.
The Council had already started determining who had survived, working to see to it that Clans were made aware of all those alive, and that any children left orphaned were placed with appropriate familial units. It was difficult work. It tried even T’Pau’s control, to see how many had perished, how many Clans were lost, how many children had lost parents… how many bonded had lost their mates.
Sarek came to a halt as once again he was assaulted by the pain of his loss. He fought as best he could to maintain his composure, but inside his emotions rampaged - anger, pain, hatred, despair, fear - a storm that threatened with each surge to drown him in its violence.
Not for the first time he found himself envying the ways of humanity. They felt their losses no less keenly than any Vulcan, yet they embraced their feelings; they grieved, they mourned, they cried and raged and despaired. And then they healed.
He did not doubt that they would eventually recover from this tragedy, stronger than ever for the trial. Even had Earth itself been lost, he knew they would have, given time, risen from the ashes of their home world. He was not nearly no certain of the fate of his own race.
He had no delusions regarding the failings of the Vulcan race. They were stubborn to a fault, adamantly certain of their own superiority over those emotional beings whom they considered inferior. My and large they ignored the hypocrisy of their prejudice and pride, shunned bonds of love and devotion, and existed only for their individual pursuits of knowledge. In order to survive their new reality, there would need to be changes to the very fundamental makeup of the Vulcan race - a race that had not since Surak shown interest in or tolerance for such changes or those who would dare to bring them about.
Amanda…
He stumbled as he was once again overwhelmed with sorrow, his vision darkening as he fought to remain conscious.
“Ambassador!” the unexpected call caught his attention, and he looked up to see stunning blue eyes gazing at him with clear concern. Warm hands settled on his shoulders, helping to steady him as who he now knew to be the Acting Captain gently settled him against the wall.
“Ambassador Sarek, are you all right?”
No, of course he was not all right. Nothing would ever be all right again. His people were decimated, his planet was gone, and his bondmate… his bondmate…
Suddenly he was awash in feelings not his own. He had just enough time to realize that Kirk’s hand had accidentally contacted the bare skin of his neck before he was uncontrollably pulled into the Captain’s surprisingly captivating mind. Sadness, guilt, anger, pain, horror, frustration, anguish - all this and more, Kirk felt with what seemed to be his entire being. And while these emotions were decidedly negative, the beauty and enthralling nature of the mind in which Sarek found himself was… captivating… and heartbreakingly familiar. So very much like his Amanda.
Sarek had enough experience with humanity to know that not all were like his wife - and apparently Kirk. But there were enough who were that Sarek found himself illogically drawn to and protective of their race. Minds of such beauty and vibrancy, unlike any he had found amongst his own people, were to be cherished and protected.
Something he had failed to do. His misery rose again, but this time there was an answer. Cautiously, clumsily, obviously not sure what he was doing but unable to not do something, Kirk did his best to wrap his mind around Sarek’s, projecting sympathy and understanding and concern. Sarek selfishly allowed himself to bask in that tenderness. For just one moment, he allowed himself to be supported by someone else, allowed this unexpectedly noble human to comfort him in a way none save his mate had done since he was a child.
He lost all track of time. He had no idea how long their minds had been entangled, thoughts and feelings flowing back and forth and around, when he felt a new presence approach. Sarek roused himself, pressing his consciousness forward, determined to do his best to protect this precious human mind, determined not to fail again.
He relaxed only slightly when he recognized this new mind as his son’s, though surprisingly the mental landscape around him brightened at the realization, actually welcoming Spock as if he were a precious friend. Sarek remained understandably cautious. The last interactions he had witnessed between Spock and Kirk had been extremely confrontational, nearly resulting in Kirk’s death at his son’s hands. Sarek could sense Kirk’s protests, his insistence that Spock would not mean him harm, but Sarek was not willing to blindly trust Kirk’s welfare to Spock.
Then Sarek realized that the new presence was not, in fact, his son… or at least not the son with which he was familiar. This mind was far older and calmer, more at peace than Spock had ever been. And yet, Kirk, too had recognized this mind as Spock…
“Ambassador, Jim, are you both all right?”
Before Sarek could reply, Kirk sent out a wave of thought, the basic impression of reassurance being most prevalent amongst the myriad of emotions contained within it. Friendship, concern and a deep sense of caring were also present, deepening the mystery of this unknown presence.
“Ambassador?”
Sarek regarded the puzzle before him, but could come up with no satisfactory answers. This mind rang of his son’s spirit, but where a strong parental bond should be, he could sense only an echo. While the katra was the same, the imprint was different. Finally, he had to resort to asking.
“Who are you? You remind me quite specifically of my son, but at the same time in many ways you are nothing like him.”
“I am Spock, Ambassador; though not the one of this universe.”
Suddenly they were awash in memories from Kirk, most of which echoed the touch of this one who claimed to be his son. And then Sarek knew. He saw his Spock, so much older than he remembered, desperately searching for a way to save Romulus. He was him fail, and he saw the vengeance wrought by a grieving madman.
This older Spock shrank back, guilt infusing his spirit.
“If you don’t… stop with the guilt… I’m going to kick your ass.”
Sarek and Spock were startled to see an image of Kirk take shape, initially faded and fuzzy, but quickly coming into focus. Sarek found himself amazed at how rapidly Kirk was mastering the meld. It had taken Amanda several weeks to be able to communicate verbally within a meld.
“If I had just been able to work more rapidly -“
“No. You did your best. To feel guilt for what was out of your control is illogical. Wouldn’t you agree, Ambassador Sarek?” That Kirk obviously expected - even demanded - Sarek’s agreement was obvious.
“I believe your opinion to be correct, Mister Kirk. From the memories we witnessed, it was clear that every effort was made to aid Romulus. There was nothing more that you could have done… Spock. The Romulans were foolish to not take the precaution of at least preparing to evacuate, but you were not at fault.”
Disbelief, shock, incredulousness flowed for a brief moment from Spock before he was able to control them.
“My apologies. I was most startled by your response, Ambassador.”
“So I gathered. I do not understand why it is so, however.”
“The relationship between you and I in my universe was… contentious. You did not agree with many of my choices in life, and I found myself caring less and less about earning your positive regard. In time, I stopped seeking such approval altogether. It was… unexpected… to hear you give it so easily now.”
Sarek was distressed, but not surprised by this knowledge. He - the famed ambassador - found himself with nothing to say, fully aware of his unforgiving attitude where his son was concerned. In fact, he had only sought to protect Spock and Amanda with his actions. The more Vulcan Spock acted, the less he was likely to be discriminated against and shunned, and the less Amanda would be blamed for daring to mate with a scion of Surak and produce a hybrid child. When Spock left, spurning the Vulcan Science Academy for Starfleet, leaving Sarek and Amanda behind to face the scorn of the planet, Sarek had reacted… poorly. He had blamed Spock for the situation, rather than placing the blame where it belonged - at the feet of those of his people illogical enough to judge a being’s worth based on nothing more than race.
Thankfully, Spock broke in, changing the subject. “I must ask again if you are well, Ambassador. You and the Captain have been unconscious for at least six hours. You were discovered in a corridor in physical contact. Doctor McCoy could not determine a cause, but did note unusual brainwave activity from you both, and so a joining of the minds of some type was assumed. As I have received extensive training in the science of the mind, and as no fully-trained healers were available, it was deemed prudent that I attempt a meld in an effort to contact one or both of you.”
“My apologies, Spock. I… did not realize that it had been so long.” Sarek paused, not wanting to admit to his actual state. “My condition is… satisfactory.”
The Captain’s disagreement with this analysis was clear. “Like hell. Unless I’m way off base, you haven’t been able to meditate since… Vulcan. And you haven’t been getting enough sleep, or enough to eat. Your shields must be compromised, ‘cause I have a hard time believing that it’s normal for you to initiate this - whatever this is - from just a brush on the neck. You need help Sa- Ambassador. And it sounds like Spock, this Spock, could maybe give you that help.”
“Jim is correct. I believe that I can provide assistance to you.”
“What qualifications do you have?” Sarek inquired, emotion again flowing from him. “Why do you think you could help me? Have you lost a bondmate? Have you lost the one who was your other half, with no warning, decades before her time?”
“Yes. I have.”
That admission brought Sarek’s angry questions to a halt. Kirk, meanwhile, moved to Spock’s side, pulling him into his arms, a look of intense sorrow on his face.
“I was bonded in my universe, though only briefly due to my own insecurities and refusal to admit to having emotions - any emotion, even one as vital as love. But he was my t’hy’la. He completed me, he understood me, he supported me and he accepted me as no other, before or since. One day he stood happily by my side; the next I was informed that he had perished. Only that proved to be incorrect. Years later, I felt him return through the bond, only for it to be severed completely by his true death. As was his wont, he put the needs of others before his own, and he sacrificed himself to save our universe.
“When this experience is added to my familiarity with your mind and situation, I consider myself to be quite uniquely qualified to assist you in coping with and healing from such a loss.”
“I should not have assumed,” Sarek admitted, “if you believe you could be of aid, I will accept.”
Spock merely nodded, leaning further into Kirk’s embrace. Sarek found himself feeling jealously bereft. He sincerely hoped that with Spock’s help he could regain control of his emotions.
Finally Spock reluctantly pulled away from Kirk, who moved to stand between, but off to the side, of the two Vulcans. “We have been here far longer than I intended; the two of you even more so. I believe it would be prudent for us to exit from the Captain’s mind as quickly as is safe.”
Sarek agreed with Spock, but still found himself reluctant to follow his advice. For the first time in days, Sarek felt almost at peace. The ache of Amanda’s loss was still there, but supported by the minds of James Kirk and now this calm, confident version of his son, he could almost believe that he would be able to continue on without her, eventually. He knew it was irrational to desire to remain entwined with these beings, however, and so he began the process of carefully, if reluctantly, separating himself from Kirk’s mind.
As he disentangled their consciousnesses he made a startling discovery. He paused, only to be spurred on by Spock. “It is too late to correct now. If we linger, we risk making the connections permanent. We will have to address the situation at a later time. Now come.”
Finally returned to his own mind, Sarek found the emptiness even more striking that before after being cradled for so long in such a welcoming mind. He despaired that none of the Adepts had survived - he feared it might prove necessary for him to attempt Kohlinar should Spock be unable to aid him. Without an Adept to guide him, he was uncertain as to his possible success.
“No. Not happening,” a raspy voice interrupted his thoughts. Turning his head, he saw Kirk lying beside him. Their beds had been pushed together so that they were able to maintain contact. As Spock moved around from his position at the heads of the beds, Kirk continued, “I know it seems overwhelming now, but it will get better. Spock and I will help.”
“It’s about damn time you three woke up!” The Doctor stood from the chair in which he had been sitting, approaching the beds in a menacing manner. Sarek felt a whisper of fond exasperation breeze through his mind.
“Don’t even think about hitting me with one of your damn hyposprays, Bones.” Kirk commanded, bringing his arms up to ward off the oncoming Doctor.
“Don’t try my patience, kid. I’ve been sitting here all damn night waiting for you to get your head back on straight. Of all the idiot moves, crashing your way into a Vulcan’s mind.”
“Actually, Doctor McCoy, the fault is mine,” Sarek spoke up, not willing to see Kirk chastised for something that was not truly his fault. “The Captain inadvertently touched me, but there would have been no trouble if not for my weakened shields. I am afraid Mister Kirk has a most dynamic mind. I was unable to resist it in my impaired state.”
“Dynamic isn’t the word I’d use for it,” McCoy snorted, though became much less belligerent in his mannerisms, which allowed Sarek to relax slightly. He found it odd that Spock had complacently watched the proceedings with what, for a Vulcan, would be considered a fond smile.
McCoy scanned all three of them, frowning at the readings on his tricorder. “Well, physically you’re all back to normal. Ambassador Sarek, you and Jim both had some pretty elevated heart rates for a while there, which this Ambassador,” with a nod of his head he indicated Spock, “told me was unusual for a meld. But I’m not liking the brain mapping results I’m getting back. You’re both still reading atypical to your norm. I suspect this one is too, but I don’t have a baseline for comparison.”
Spock spoke up while Sarek was arranging his thoughts. “You are correct, Doctor. There have been unforeseen consequences to the meld.”
“Consequences?” Kirk asked, moving to sit up in his bed. Spock turned from McCoy to face Kirk fully.
“I am afraid, Jim, that as things now stand, you are currently bonded to both Sarek and myself.”
“Wait, both of you? That’s possible? I thought Vulcans were monogamous.”
Sarek was surprised that these were the first questions Kirk had; he seemed unexpectedly calm about the situation. Spock seemed markedly less surprised, and answered Kirk’s inquiry. “Ordinarily that is the case. Though Vulcans in general do tend to have a multitude of bonds with those they meet in the course of their life, when it comes to mating bonds, the type now held between you, Sarek and myself, it is unusual for a Vulcan to have more than one. As always, you seem to be the exception to the rule, Jim.”
“Dammit, Jim. Only you. How the hell did you manage to get yourself bonded - not wait, mated - to two Vulcans?”
Kirk shrugged. “Hell if I know, Bones.” He then regarded Spock, a thoughtful look on his face. “Ambassador, what can you tell us?”
“With the destruction of Vulcan, all members of our race are now struggling to manage the severing of hundreds of bonds of various types. In Ambassador Sarek’s case, his mind is further weakened by the loss of a bondmate to whom he was inordinately fond. While I was not present at the initiation, I suspect that the Sarek’s mind was seeking to heal the broken mate bond, stretching and seeking to attempt to find her again.
“When the Captain, whose mind bears certain similarities to Lady Amanda in its vitality and depth of emotion, inadvertently came into contact with Sarek, Sarek was drawn into the Captain’s mind. The bond, desperate to be whole again, took the opportunity to implant itself in the Captain’s mind.”
“So, Sarek misses his wife and decided to claim Jim as a substitute. So what’s your excuse?” McCoy asked Spock, not giving Sarek a chance to protest his interpretation of matters.
“I believe my… unique situation… is at fault.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Will you talk plain for one damn minute?”
“Your pardon, Doctor. You see, I am Spock.”
“Bullshit.”
At McCoy’s reaction, Kirk snorted in amusement, while the crinkling of corner of Spock’s eyes showed his own delight. “I assure you, I am quite serious.”
“He’s telling the truth, Bones,” Kirk broke in, becoming serious near instantly. Sarek doubted he would ever become used to the rapid changes in emotion humans suffered. “He came through the same portal Nero did, though he arrived about twenty years later. I’ll vouch for him, though. He’s definitely Spock.”
“As if I’m going to trust you, when he’s been mucking around in your head. Who knows what he’s managed to convince you of.”
“Until such a time as I am able to provide proof to convince you of my sincerity, I’m afraid then that you will have to take me at my word. Else we will spend hours arguing, during which time I could have been explaining to you further about Jim’s current situation.”
That brought McCoy up short. The need for certainty battled with concern for the Captain, but it was obvious which would win.
“All right, talk. But don’t think you’re getting out of proving you really are some crazy alternate version of that green-blooded hobgoblin.”
“I look forward to the opportunity. As I was saying, however, I am Spock, but from a different universe. There, I had a bondmate. Sadly, I lost him many years ago. Much like Sarek, my mind sought to heal what it saw as a wound when presented the opportunity.”
“Now wait just a minute. I’m sorry you lost your mate, but if it was several years ago, shouldn’t you have healed from it by now? And do you really expect me to believe that Jim is such a close match for both you and Sarek’s mates?”
“You are correct, my mind had… recovered… from the broken bond left in the wake of my mate’s death. There is no true healing from such a loss, but I had reached a point of stability and acceptance. Until I melded with my mate, or at least this universe’s version of him, several days ago.”
McCoy was obviously an intelligent human, and quickly put the pieces together. “You and Jim! You’re telling me you - Spock -were bonded to this infant in your Universe?”
“That is correct. Jim and I were bonded for several years before his death.”
“Shit. Dammit, Jim!”
“What are you yelling at me for? They already told you, it’s not my fault.”
“It’s always your fault, you and that damned Kirk luck of your.” McCoy sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. “Alright. I’ve got some research to do, from the sounds of it. I expect all of you to still be here when I get back.”
So saying, McCoy left the room, muttering about an emergency stash of some sort. Sarek turned his attention quickly back to his… new bondmates.
“I regret involving you in these matter, Captain. It was an appalling action on my part to allow this to occur -“
“Hey, you don’t need to apologize,” Kirk insisted. “It really actually was my fault; I should have known better than to touch you. But I was more concerned with figuring out what was wrong with you than watching where my hands were.”
“No. As I explained to the Doctor, the fault is mine. I should have better control over my mind and shields. I am afraid with recent events I have become compromised.”
“Look, you needed help, and I’m glad that I was able to provide it. I understand that there have been unexpected ramifications, but I do not regret coming to your aid. We’ll figure this out.”
“While few in number, and currently overwhelmed, there were healers that survived the destruction of Vulcan. It might be possible to arrange to have the bonds broken.”
“No!” Joint cries of denial from both Kirk and Spock were not as surprising to Sarek as they perhaps should have been. He found himself distressingly relieved by the quick refusal, as well as the outpouring of emotions he felt through their bonds.
“With all due respect, Ambassador, I think your healers have their hands more than full. These bonds don’t seem to be causing any of us any harm. In fact, you’ve admitted that they’re helping you. I say we leave them be; at least for now. Unless Spock here has issues with it.”
“Not at all, Jim. I have not felt so… complete… in some time. While you are not the James Kirk I was initially bonded to, you are just as honorable, intelligent, and compassionate as he was. My only hesitancy in keeping the bond is that I will be denying my counterpart the opportunity of finding his t’hy’la.”
A bolt of shock ran through Sarek when he heard that. T’hy’la? His son and James Kirk? Kirk, however, just shook his head. “I don’t think you need to worry about that. He and Uhura are apparently an item - and a pretty hot and heavy one from what I’ve seen. Bond or not, I don’t think this universe’s Spock and I were destined for the life of you and your Kirk.”
“Uhura?” Spock repeated in disbelief; obviously his relationship with the Lieutenant had been significantly different. “Perhaps,” he finally conceded, though it was clear he was not convinced of the validity of Kirk’s argument.
“Besides, it’s more than likely that when we get back to Starfleet I’ll be thrown out on my ass in pretty short order.”
“What would make you believe such a thing?”
“Oh, I don’t know. It’s not like I was illegally smuggled on board the Enterprise when Vulcan called for help in the middle of my academic probation hearing, argued with the Officer in charge to the point that he threw me off the ship, once again illegally got on board, and then basically stage a mutiny to take command from said Officer in charge - a Vulcan who had just lost his planet and his mother. Oh wait, that’s exactly what I did. Let’s face it, Spock. When we get back, I’ll be lucky if I just get honorably discharged. I’m sure Komack at least is calling for me to be thrown in a cell for the foreseeable future.”
“I believe you will find that saving the Earth balances out quite a few sins.”
“Maybe,” Kirk allows with a shrug, “though with this bond thing, it might not be too terrible if I am discharged. I’d be able to follow you guys off to wherever you wind up going.”
“I have told you before, Jim,” Spock replied, practically scoffing - Sarek was becoming more than a little concerned for this older, emotional version of his son; yet he detected no discomfort through their bond. It was most unsettling. “Being a Starfleet Captain is your destiny. Anything else would be a waste.”
“Yeah, well, that’s not up to either of us.”
Seeing the argument going nowhere, Sarek interrupted with his own question. “And if you are allowed to remain in Starfleet, Mister Kirk? You propose leaving the bonds in place, yet in your ‘ideal’ world, we would be light years away. Hardly ideal.”
“We’ll still figure out some way to work it out. As I told your son, I don’t believe in no-win scenarios. Hell, depending on where they put me, maybe I’ll leave on my own.”
Then Kirk met Sarek’s gaze with his own of piercing blue. Sarek could feel the other man’s determination flooding the bond as he forced himself to believe that everything would work out to their advantage, as if any other result was impossible, as if through the sheer force of his will he could make it so.
“And Sarek. No more of this ‘Mister Kirk’ shit. Call me Jim.”
Dance four: Memories
There'd been so much alcohol Kirk wasn't quite sure how he'd ended up in Scotty's room, sandwiched between the engineer and the doctor. But the bed was warm and his head hurt so he vowed to think on it later. At any rate, he promised himself that he'd make this happen again one day soon. Preferably without the alcohol so he could remember it next time.