Star Trek Fic: Future Bliss
Title: Future Bliss
Fandom: Star Trek (new movie)
Pairing: Kirk/Spock pre-slash, Spock/Uhura
Author: Kagedtiger
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Star Trek belongs to its owners, who are not me.
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for the movie and TOS episode "Amok Time." (Does anyone find it sad that I quoted most of the lines from "Amok Time" from memory? Yeah, me too.)
Summary: Direct sequel to "Past Sorrows, Present Joy." Spock suffers from the severing of his engagement bond with T'Pring, and Things Go Awry.
As much as Kirk tried not to let himself be influenced by old Spock's memories of the future, even he had to admit that he was having difficulty. It wasn't any specific event that bothered him, but the whole tone of the bridge was different. Spock was different. In old Spock's memories, Kirk had felt the two of them like two halves of a single whole, two sides of the same coin. They worked together like a well-oiled machine. He barely had to give an order before Spock had already carried it out, often anticipating him even before Kirk himself knew he was going to make the request. But that was old Spock and his Kirk. This was different, and after experiencing that sort of connection, the difference was frustrating.
"Spock, can I get a lifeform reading on the planet's surface?"
"Momentarily, Captain. First I must finish the gravitational readings."
"Spock."
"Captain," Spock's voice was barely even inflected, and yet somehow Kirk could hear within it the sincere disdain he had for the captain at the moment. "It is vital that I complete these gravitational readings first. An unexpected shift in the planet's gravity could easily jeopardize our orbit. The results, as I'm sure you can imagine, would be disastrous."
Kirk felt frustration seething under his skin, but he tried to take a lesson from Spock and keep his emotions in check. "Of course. Carry on then. Just get me those readings as soon as you can." Maybe it wasn't Spock who was throwing off the synchronicity he had felt. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was both of them. Maybe that feeling just wasn't meant to be in this lifetime.
"What I had with my Jim, you shall not have with your Spock," old Spock had said. Kirk tried not to think about that. He'd been trying to keep the words out of his mind since he'd heard them, because how could he not have that? How could he not have that bond, that shining, soul-defining bond that had arisen between them? He was greedy for it, wanted it right away, despite knowing that it had taken the other Kirk and Spock years to get to that point. But he wanted it as soon as possible because he was afraid, somewhere in the back of his mind, that it might never come at all.
He wanted to share these feelings with someone, to get some kind of advice on how to handle this, but there was no one. McCoy would just laugh at him, Uhura wouldn't give him the time of day, and he didn't really know anyone else on the ship well enough to broach the subject.
No. What he needed was Spock. He knew that, and he knew in the back of his mind that this instinct to share his thoughts with Spock, get the Vulcan's perspective, was probably just another residual effect of the mind-meld. The other Kirk always went to Spock when he was concerned, just as Spock always went to him, they were partners...
And so his thoughts continued, round and round in a circle like this, as they had been continuing for several days now. He slept uneasily, restless, with a constant feeling of lack, that something was off in his life, not present where it should be. With each passing hour he regretted more and more his decision to ask about old Spock and his Kirk. What they had, he might never have, and he might have been better off never knowing that such bonds existed.
When he came onto the bridge at the beginning of his next shift, he didn't notice right away. He was preoccupied with his thoughts, still pondering the idea of destiny, wondering how it applied to him. So it took him a few seconds of silence after absently calling "Spock," before he realized that something was amiss. He looked up to the science station to see a young ensign he didn't recognize standing in Spock's usual position. "Ensign?" he questioned, thrown off more than he felt he should be by Spock's absence. "Where is Commander Spock?"
"S-sir," said the young man, painfully nervous. "He's sick, sir. He's taking a shift in his quarters."
Something nagged at the back of Kirk's mind at this-
"In all the years I've known you, you've never asked for a leave of any sort. In fact you've refused them. Why now?"
-but he ignored it. He looked over at Uhura, but she only shrugged. So Spock was playing hooky. He sighed. Maybe he should just try harder to accept that they were different people than they had been in the other timeline (it was him, he was too different - Spock's life was mostly the same, up until recently. Spock hadn't grown up without his father) and let this go. Let Spock be just another officer on the ship. Old Spock would never have played hooky like this. Ah well. Let him be. Kirk had a ship to run.
For some strange reason, it didn't occur to him that something might honestly be wrong with the Vulcan. It was Spock, after all.
It did occur to him later that day, however, when he passed his first officer in the hall. "Spock," he called, intending to ask about his absence from the bridge. But the Vulcan said nothing, walking straight past him, his expression blank.
Kirk felt offended, not just on a personal level, but in an official sense as well. He was the commanding officer on this ship, after all, and even if he and Spock weren't exactly friends, it was his duty to respond to the commanding officer. This was unacceptable. Kirk turned and called out "Spock!" more seriously.
Again the Vulcan did not respond, but continued walking. Kirk strode after him, anger growing. How dare Spock ignore him. Him! Of all people! He thought they had at least reached some kind of accord, a truce at bare minimum.
And then Spock stumbled, and Kirk mentally backpedaled, reevaluating his view of the situation.
Spock's stumble was brief; he leaned against the wall for a second, and then pushed himself off of it and continued to walk steadily, not running, precisely, but in definitely hurried strides. They were traveling towards the officers' quarters, Kirk realized. Perhaps Spock was still feeling unwell, and needed to go lie down, or meditate, or whatever it was Vulcans did?
Kirk resumed following his first officer, his strides slowing as he realized where, exactly, they were going. Not Spock's room - they'd passed that already - but Uhura's. Ah. Maybe this was something he shouldn't be interfering in after all? But if Spock was just coming down for a booty call, why ignore Kirk to the point of insubordination? Why the stumble?
Uhura's door slid open at the chime, and Kirk could see her smile when she saw who it was. "Spock!" she said happily, obviously surprised to see him. Spock leaned almost wearily against the door frame. Uhura's smile faded to a look of concern. "Spock? Are you okay?"
She made the mistake of approaching him, her hand stretched out to touch, only to have Spock grab her and pin her against the wall, mouth crushing hers mercilessly. Kirk nearly blushed - not exactly a passion he'd expected from his first officer. No wonder Uhura liked him.
Except that she was struggling, Kirk noticed as he got over his embarrassment. The expression on her face was one of fear, not pleasure, and she was desperately struggling to get out of the grip that pinned her. When Spock broke the kiss, her voice was frantic. "Spock! What do you think you're doing! Stop it!"
But Spock was apparently not listening. His hand reached up, resting on her face, his fingers moving to-
Kirk realized what Spock was about to do just in time to surge into the room and grab his first officer's wrist. Sexual harassment was bad enough without adding psychic rape to the list of crimes. Spock looked at him with consternation, and Kirk realized even as he fought the impressive strength of Spock's arm - it was taking both his hands and his full strength just to budge the Vulcan's wrist - that there was no recognition in his face. He didn't know who Kirk was. He didn't even seem to recognize Uhura.
Spock frowned - a careful frown, Vulcan - and sent Kirk flying across the room as easy as shrugging. As Kirk landed in a painful heap against the wall, he heard a high-pitched "hiii-ya!" and looked up in time to see Spock slump to the ground. He blinked at Uhura, whose hand was still extended in the position of the karate chop she had delivered to Spock's neck. Kirk gave her a look that spoke clearly of how utterly confused he was.
"Self-defense class," Uhura muttered sheepishly. "In linguistics, you know, we have to learn a little bit of the alien anatomy for each language, since the sounds are produced differently, and I happen to know just where the voice box and other sensitive areas..." she trailed off, staring down at the slumped form of her Vulcan lover.
Kirk sat up, rubbing the back of his head where it had slammed against the side of a shelf. He'd have a lump there for sure. "That wasn't just me, right?" he asked, joining her in staring at the unconscious Spock. "That was really weird?"
Uhura nodded. "Entirely out of character for him. He said he'd been feeling unwell this morning, needed to meditate. I thought... I guess I don't know what I thought. But yeah. That was really weird."
Kirk moved over to the communicator panel on the wall and punched in sickbay. "This is the captain," he said perfunctorily. "I'm in Lieutenant Uhura's quarters. We need a stretcher to escort Commander Spock to sickbay. Kirk out."
"I'll go with him to sickbay," said Kirk, nodding at her. "I should probably get my head looked at."
"I've always said you needed your head examined," Uhura quipped, but Kirk could tell her heart wasn't in it. She was plainly worried about Spock. They stood in awkward silence until the medical team arrived. They were well-trained, and there were no comments or questions about what Kirk and Spock were both doing in Uhura's quarters. Instead they merely lifted him onto the stretcher and carried the unconscious Vulcan off to the sickbay. Kirk followed, unsure whether he could admit to himself that he was just as worried as she was.
Kirk was still having the bump on his head examined when Spock regained consciousness. He happened to be facing Spock when the Vulcan woke up, and it was a remarkable example of efficiency. The Vulcan's eyelids opened, slowly but completely, and his eyes roamed the room in an informational survey of his surroundings. No other part of his body moved. Finally he said, "I am in sickbay."
"Yup," said Kirk, then winced as McCoy prodded a particularly sore spot.
"Take off your shirt," the doctor ordered Kirk, and Kirk rolled his eyes but complied. He knew he had several large bruises from hitting the wall - he could feel them.
"I have no recollection of how I came to be here," Spock stated calmly. "Do you have that information?"
"Sure," said Kirk. "You more or less attacked Uhura, threw me across the room when I tried to stop you, and then she knocked you out."
Spock's eyebrows creased very slightly in a frown of concentration. He continued to stare at the ceiling from the cot on which he'd awoken. "More or less, Captain?"
Kirk wanted to smack himself in the forehead, but that would probably only serve to make his headache worse. Of course that would be the first thing the Vulcan focused on. No 'whoops, sorry I threw you into a wall, I can see you're injured.' Of course not. But then, Uhura wasn't here, so maybe he was worried he'd done her real harm.
"She's fine," Kirk assured. "You just, uh... came on a little strong. You were a little out of sorts."
"The last thing I remember is leaving my quarters to go to the canteen. I do not recall encountering Lieutenant Uhura."
"You tried to force a mind meld on her," said Kirk sharply, annoyed with Spock's lack of emotion. Spock's eyes widened slightly at this.
Kirk exchanged a look with McCoy, and McCoy handed him his shirt. "You're fine, Jim," he said. "No concussion, though Lord knows you should have one by now, given how careless you are. I guess nature understands that you can't afford to have your wits addled any further. Now, Mr. Spock," McCoy turned to him, wearing his Serious Medical Face. "Memory loss?"
"I am fine, Doctor." Spock sat up. "I believe I am suffering from a minor Vulcan malady. Nothing can be done. I shall return to my quarters and meditate in an attempt to calm it."
"Whoa, hold on now!" McCoy moved to intercept the young Vulcan as he tried to stand. "You just attacked another crewman and have no memory of the event! I can't just let you go! You could be a danger to the ship! What 'malady'? What's wrong with you, if you're so sure you know?"
"I assure you, Doctor, I have everything under control," Spock protested. "It is but a minor concern." Again he tried to stand, and again McCoy blocked his way.
"Jim," McCoy appealed to Kirk, throwing him a 'do something already' look.
"Bones is right," said Kirk, beginning to put his shirt back on. "Until we're sure you're okay, you're confined to sickbay."
"But captain!" Spock protested, forcing McCoy to stop him a third time from standing up.
"That's an order," Kirk said firmly, knowing that if nothing else, Spock knew his duty. He finished slipping his shirt back on and stood. "I have to get back to the bridge. I'll be back later to see how you're doing. If you're just meditating, you can always do it here, right? And I can't afford the risk to my crew of you having another attack, or whatever it was. So stay here until the doctor says you can go." He looked over at McCoy, who nodded.
He echoed the nod himself in satisfaction, and then made his way back to the bridge. Bones would figure out what was wrong.
"How is he?" he asked that night, as he stepped into McCoy's office.
The doctor looked towards the closed door that led into the sickbay and shook his head. "I just don't know, Jim. It's the darnedest thing."
"What do you mean? Explain," Kirk ordered, taking a seat across the desk from the doctor. McCoy pushed a bottle of brandy and an empty glass towards him before taking a sip from his own. Kirk poured himself a drink as he listened to McCoy's explanations.
"Vulcan physiology is bizarre. I had no idea if my readings were anywhere near what they consider 'normal,' so I went and did a little research. It turns out that since the destruction of planet Vulcan, there have been a whole string of cases just like his. Young Vulcans, all of them - it doesn't seem to hit anyone over thirty - just going crazy. Increased passion with loss of recognition, later memory loss - all the symptoms are the same."
"And?" Kirk leaned forward. "What do they do to fix them?"
"That's the weird part," said McCoy. "I have no idea. Every record just says that the Vulcan in question was remanded into the care of Vulcan physicians in one of the colonization groups. No mention of any kind of treatment, or even a mention of what's causing the symptoms. Just 'patient was remanded to the care of doctor so-and-so.' Truly bizarre. It's like a conspiracy."
"So you can't fix it?"
McCoy shook his head. "I did get some details on what Vulcan biology is supposed to look like, and he's in fine condition physically. No problems whatsoever. Whatever it is, it's mental. Stress, maybe. Or grief. Something from suppressing his emotions. I don't know. I guess that would explain why so many Vulcans are experiencing it now, but not why it's only the young ones. Unless the older ones are so used to suppressing their feelings by now that it doesn't even affect them when their whole planet blows up." McCoy's voice sounded disgusted. He sighed and took another sip of brandy from his glass.
"I don't know. It's so hard to tell anything about what's going on in a Vulcan's head. Anyway, he's sleeping now, at least. He hasn't had another episode since you brought him in, but I'm not convinced he's better. Even though he spent most of the afternoon in his damn meditational state. I tell you, it's not normal for someone to be that still! But yeah - I'm still not convinced he won't do it again. I want to at least keep him overnight. I was thinking of posting a guard, in case he decides to go sleepwalking."
"I'll do it," Kirk heard himself say.
McCoy said nothing, just raised an eyebrow at him.
"I mean," Kirk said, wondering why he even cared, "I'll sleep on the cot next to him. That way I'll hear him if he tries to get up." Why was he offering? This was what he had subordinates for. Why should he be the one to give up a night's sleep in his own comfy bed?
McCoy shrugged and took another drink. "Suit yourself," he said. "But if he does go wandering around at night, call for backup. Vulcans are stronger than humans, and you don't need any more bruises."
"Sure thing Bones," said Kirk, and stood to go into the sickbay.
Spock was indeed asleep on one of the cots and Kirk, feeling suddenly tired, took the one next to him. 'He'll be fine,' he told himself. 'Of course he'll be fine.'
As he drifted off to sleep, whispers of voices played through his head.
"It has to do with... biology."
When Kirk woke up in the middle of the night, he wasn't certain why, or even where he was. In the half a minute or so that it took him to realize he was in sickbay and remember why he was there, the answer to his first question became apparent - Spock.
The Vulcan was tossing restlessly, occasionally murmuring or moaning in his sleep. Whatever he was dreaming about, it didn't sound pleasant. Kirk could make out very little of what he was saying, but one word seemed to crop up a lot - something like 'ping' or 'ring.' Kirk sat up on his cot, blinking his eyes a few times and yawning. Though his dream seemed unpleasant, Spock showed no apparent signs of waking to an episode, or of sleepwalking.
But as he let out another low, pained moan, Kirk felt his heart going out to the Vulcan. McCoy had said that whatever was ailing him might have to do with grief over his lost planet. Kirk knew grief, knew loss, but how much worse must it be for Spock? Kirk had lost his father, but he'd never known the man who was killed the day Kirk was born. Spock had just lost his planet, his mother, everyone he'd ever known, any friends he'd ever had. How deep must that grief be? How horrible the psychic wound?
Spock thrashed suddenly, and Kirk got up off his cot, making his way over to the Vulcan's side. He wasn't sure there was much he could do, but he was pretty sure it couldn't hurt to try. The worst that would happen would be Spock might thrash into him and knock him back again, and he'd already survived that once, so it couldn't be too bad. Or Spock would wake up and Kirk would be embarrassed, but it wasn't like Spock was a gossip, or had the emotional capacity necessary to hold it against him. (Or did he? No. No, Kirk was pretty sure that Spock wouldn't do that.) So Kirk reached out tentatively and put a hand on the side of Spock's face, by his temple. "Shh," he said quietly. "Nothing's wrong, Spock. It'll be okay. Shh. Calm down."
To his surprise, Spock did actually calm slightly. His thrashing stopped, as did the moaning, although his head still tossed back and forth, his brow creased. "Nyota?" he mumbled.
"No, Spock, it's me. It's Jim," said Kirk, putting his other hand on the other side of Spock's head to hold him steady. "You're having a bad dream. It's okay. It's just a dream."
Still apparently sleeping, Spock raised a hand towards Kirk, and Kirk realized too late what he was doing. Spock's hand was on his face - no, both hands - and Spock's mind was sliding into his, touching it in the lightest of feather-kisses. Kirk tried to let go of Spock's face, but found he couldn't move. Spock's mind kept him anchored there, as surely as if he'd been restraining Kirk physically. Words, images, and emotions flooded into his mind, confused, jumbled, slowly at first, and then more and more, harder, faster. This was no orderly display of facts, the way old Spock had shared with him. This was just a meld, just a chaotic merging of their minds, and Kirk felt like he was falling, no, drowning. He stopped being aware of his physical self, lost in the mind and memories in front of him, there and gone too quickly to register.
"Jim."
He could hear Spock's voice, but Spock wasn't speaking. The words weren't even being spoken, they just were. They simply existed somewhere between them, somewhere inside the entity that was their shared consciousness.
"Though you may be parted from me, never shall we be parted. Never and always touching and touched. When the Time comes, I shall find you."
"Spock," Jim said, or thought. And he had intended it to be a protest, an attempt to break them apart, but instead he fell further into Spock's mind, sucked in by an irresistible gravity, and someone was speaking words for him, words he did not recognize, but was speaking himself, had to speak, and he did not know why.
"Though you may be parted from me, never shall we be parted. Never and always touching and touched. When the Time comes, I will await you."
He hadn't said that, had he? What had he just said? What were these words? Where had they come from? What was going on? Images and sensations flowed through his mind - hot sand, the ringing of bells, thin air, sun, and the bells, always the bells.
"It is agreed," were the words, somewhere in the heat of the desert. Words that had been spoken once long ago, and were continually heard - their sound echoed through time, never spoken again but constantly existing, escaping into the world through new voices.
With an abruptness that sent him reeling, Kirk was thrown back into the physical world, staggering backwards from Spock's cot. The Vulcan was asleep now - truly, deeply asleep, dead to the world. Kirk himself had no idea what had just happened. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe this was all just a bizarre dream, and he'd wake up in the morning to find that he'd slept through Spock sleepwalking and going off to murder one of the crew members. Cheerful.
Kirk made his way unsteadily back to his own cot and lay down, staring at the ceiling. What in all the universe had that been? At least Spock seemed calm now. That was a good sign, he supposed.
A deep weariness suddenly came over him, and though he hadn't expected to, Kirk felt himself falling asleep. His body felt unbearably heavy, and his conscious sagged as he succumbed to the encroaching dark.
When Kirk awoke, it was to find Spock sitting up on his cot, staring at him. Kirk sniffed, blinked, and looked over at the Vulcan. Though Spock's expression was completely blank, he was somehow aware that the Vulcan was seething with anger. How he was aware he wasn't sure, but he felt it with a conviction that he'd never had before.
"Why did you allow me to meld with you?" Spock asked, his voice tight.
At least he remembered, Kirk thought wryly, his wits still catching up with his wakefulness. "I didn't exactly have much of a choice. And don't you blame me for this! I was just trying to be nice! I was just trying to help you out of a bad dream! You're the one who grabbed my face like that."
Spock lowered his face into his hands and groaned in expression of world-weariness that seemed almost human. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"
"What do you mean me?" Kirk decided that he'd definitely gotten up on the wrong side of the bed. The side of the bed with a Vulcan next to it. He was already itching for a fight, and he'd barely finished regaining consciousness. "If anything, what we've done. Or what you've done, I really think it should be. ...What have you done, anyway?"
Spock didn't say anything right away, and it was weird, but Kirk swore he could feel the Vulcan's embarrassment. All his emotions - anger, fear, shame, confusion... but that didn't make sense. Spock wasn't displaying any of those. And suddenly the words from the previous night rose into Kirk's mind.
'Though you may be parted from me, never shall we be parted. Never and always touching and touched. When the Time comes, I shall await you.'
There was a jarring echo in his mind, something not from his own memories, something he'd experienced vicariously, but so very strongly.
"Spock. Parted from me, and never parted. Never and always touching and touched. I await you."
And beyond that, something the old Spock had said to him before they'd parted: "My younger self now suffers from the abrupt severance of the psychic marriage bond before its consummation. At least one adventure you will not share, or will share differently." It made what Spock said next less of a surprise.
"We may have become... accidentally... betrothed."
Less surprising, that was, but not less disturbing.
"We're what?!" Kirk yelled.
"Please," said Spock quietly. "Keep your voice down. This is not something I wish anyone else to know of."
"And you think I do?" Kirk countered. He glanced around, but luckily they seemed to be alone in the sickbay. Nevertheless, he lowered his voice. "Okay. What do you mean, betrothed? What are you talking about?"
"The marriage bond," Spock said haltingly. "I... on Vulcan, I had a... a fiancée, I suppose you could say, or perhaps a wife. There are no human words that precisely encompass the relationship. When the planet was destroyed, the bond was severed. Psychic bonds are powerful. Without an anchor on the other end, it was loose. Consider a ribbon stretched taught between two poles in a high wind. If the ribbon were to be suddenly severed, the ends would flap about, loosely, until secured. This is similar, although the metaphor is somewhat imperfect. My bond was... seeking, as it were. You told me I attacked Nyota - tried to meld with her. Anything but the briefest touch of minds cements the bond. I must have been trying to bond with her. However, it seems you got there first." He glared at Kirk, although it wouldn't have seemed that way to anyone else. But Kirk could feel the glare, understood Spock's expression in a way he hadn't before. Now it was clear why.
"So... are you saying we're married then?"
"Not quite. A full ceremony to consummate the bond would take place several years from now, when I- when-" Spock stopped, and his mind felt shut-off from Kirk. Guarded. Kirk frowned. He didn't appreciate secrets. "Perhaps it will not be an issue," said Spock. "Perhaps my human blood will spare-"
"I had hoped I would be spared this. But the ancient drives are too strong."
"It won't," Kirk said with conviction. Then, at Spock's raised eyebrow, "You're talking about the pon farr, right?"
Spock's expression changed to one of incredulity. "How do you know about the pon farr?"
"It is a deeply personal thing, Captain, can't you understand that?"
"Uh..." and now Kirk remembered that he was keeping secrets of his own. He couldn't exactly say, 'Oh, an older version of you from the future shared his thoughts with me, and I still kind of remember that time that he went into heat and almost killed his version of me. Very vividly, in fact, because that was probably the moment that the future version of you realized that he loved the future version of me.' "Nevermind," he said instead. "Look, it's not important how I know, but I do know a lot about it. Like the whole plak tow blood fever insanity thing, and the marriage or challenge ceremony. I know. And I, uh... I know how strong the pon farr drive is, and I doubt you'll be able to get out of it just because you have a little human blood."
Spock looked at him strangely for a second, suspicious, but then a sudden look of understanding dawned, quickly covered up and replaced by his familiar serene mask. "Well then," he said, "you know what it entails."
"Some of it, yeah," Kirk agreed. "And I really don't think I want to be your wife, no offense. Is there any way to break the bond? I mean, without you going crazy again?"
Spock shook his head. "The bond is very powerful on purpose. It ensures that we are driven home at the time of the pon farr, to avoid any harm that might come to those around us when we descend into madness. It can only be broken by death. This is why the combat for the female must always be to the death - any less, and the bond would not be severed."
Kirk frowned. "Wait, so why do only the women get to challenge? What if you wanted to marry someone else? Shouldn't she fight to the death for you, too?"
Spock shook his head again, impatient. "The male is in no position to make any sort of rational or logical decision in the midst of the plak tow. The pon farr is an insanity, Captain. It would be illogical for the male to have any say in the matter."
"So," Kirk felt an emotion rising in himself, almost like panic. "So there's no way to stop this? No way to break the bond?"
Spock hesitated. "There might... among the Elders, there might be one with skill enough to dissolve the bond safely. But they are busy with the recolonization of our race. To bother them with such a trifle would be..."
"If we don't, Spock, then you and I have to get married. What would Uhura think?" He paused, frowning. "What did she think about the fact that you had another girl back home?"
Spock stared at the floor, his expression still somewhat annoyed, but Kirk could feel that he was slightly embarrassed about the subject. He knew human customs well enough to know that Uhura would not interpret the situation the same way that he did, but nevertheless he said, "It is different for Vulcans. Until it is consummated, the bond does not imply a single commitment, especially in cases such as mine where one party is... was... distant. It merely ensures a safe and discreet outlet for the pon farr, when it occurs."
"Right," said Kirk, unimpressed. "Okay then. So these Elders could maybe do it. We'll have to make a side trip to see them."
"Captain..." Kirk could feel Spock's awkwardness, his unwillingness to disturb such sacred beings with such monumental tasks in front of them.
Kirk shook off the last remnants of his rather uncomfortable sleep, leaning his head to the side to get a kink out of his neck, and stood, heading for the door. "Might as well call me Jim, when we're not in command situations," he offered. "After all, we're apparently engaged now."
Over the next couple weeks, Kirk learned quite a few things about what it meant to have a psychic marriage bond with a Vulcan. Some of the things he learned were good: the feeling of synchronicity that he'd been craving, that feeling of anticipating and fulfilling one another's needs was there and more. Kirk had barely to say, "Spock, what would you estimate as the population of that landmass?" before Spock was already relaying him a stream of data providing not only the population, but main food sources, trade, technology level, and about a dozen other facts that Kirk hadn't realize he needed until Spock had mentioned them. It was very nearly blissful, working with him, a perfect team effort.
And not only that, everyone on the bridge seemed to be picking up on it. Taking from their example, the crew became like the well-oiled machine Kirk had seen in the old Spock's memories. They supported each other, took care of each other, saw to each other's needs with startling rapidity, and everyone covered for the steps that others missed. The bridge was beautifully efficient, which made Kirk a happy captain.
Other things he learned were not as pleasant.
Kirk liked sex as much as the next man - more, probably, in fact - but there were some boundaries even he didn't want to cross, and eavesdropping on another couple was one of them. Since the bonding, he'd had a continuous low-level awareness of Spock's emotions at all times, particularly when the Vulcan was nearby (and exceedingly strong in the rare moments that they had any sort of physical contact). Most of the time it was easy to ignore - Spock's emotions were pretty settled, even when he wasn't actively repressing them, and their mildness meant they didn't transfer as well across the bond. But sometimes, in times of extreme emotion or lowered emotional guard, they were difficult or even impossible to ignore.
Times such as when Spock was having sex with Uhura, for example.
Kirk didn't want to eavesdrop. He really didn't. But the bond gave him little choice. He'd lie in bed (he had very quickly learned that it was a Bad Idea to be on duty when Spock and Uhura might be having sex), feeling Spock's aggression and the sharp, sexual edge to it. Every time Uhura did something that made the Vulcan gasp or moan, Kirk felt it. It got to the point where he really wished he could see them, just to know what it was she was doing, just so his mind didn't constantly invent things each time he felt that one specific twinge from Spock, the rush of pleasure that accompanied some specific action. He could always tell when Spock entered her, the way the heat, the desperate desire suddenly exploded, bringing him near frenzy.
Altogether, Kirk was profoundly embarrassed, all the more so because that constant a barrage of pleasure meant that he couldn't help but grow hard. It felt wrong, especially because it was only Spock's side he could feel, and he'd never really been that attracted to men before. Not that he'd never thought about it in his life or anything - everyone experimented around in Starfleet, just to find out what they were really into - it was just that he'd generally always preferred the softness and the mystery of the female form. There was nothing soft about Spock's lust, about the driving aggression of it, and Kirk defiantly did not want to be aroused by it. But Spock's lust was so strong, his arousal so intense, that the residual effect always swept over him, and Kirk was unable to control himself.
After the third time, as Kirk lay shamefaced in his chambers, cum drying on his hands and stomach, feeling the soft glow of Spock's after-pleasure and hating himself particularly hard, he was surprised by a tendril of sympathy. A small, apologetic touch to his mind that soothed his hurt, assured him that there was nothing to be ashamed of. Kirk wanted to be angry that Spock had known all along that he could feel it when the Vulcan had sex, and had done nothing to stop the emotional resonance, but that gentle touch of Spock's mind to his assured him that Spock could not control their synchronicity any more than Kirk could. That this was unfortunate, but uncontrollable. And, after all, it was at least half Kirk's fault too, wasn't it?
'I had one compassionate moment,' Kirk thought with a sigh, and reached over the edge of the bed for a pair of dirty boxers to wipe himself off with.
By mutual agreement, Kirk and Spock had decided not to tell anyone about their little problem, but Kirk was pretty sure that McCoy was aware that something was up. He had been suspicious enough when his patient had suddenly made a miraculous recovery, with not a trace that he'd ever had any sort of affliction at all. But as the days went on and Kirk and Spock began to finish each other's sentences, each anticipating the needs of the other in a way that was almost supernatural, Kirk knew that Bones smelled a rat.
The confrontation that Kirk had been anticipating came finally when their first few missions were finished, and there was a small break before the next. They'd been supposed to head to the nearest star base to await further orders, but Kirk had unexpectedly ordered a detour to one of the new Vulcan colonies. They'd been sailing for four months by that point, and Kirk and Spock had been bonded for three of them.
"Care to tell me why the Enterprise is diverting to the new Vulcan colony?" asked McCoy as he leaned against the door frame of Kirk's room.
"It's not much of a delay," Kirk hedged. "Really, it's only a day out of our way, it's not like it's any trouble."
"That doesn't answer my question," said McCoy stubbornly.
"Well, you know, Spock wanted to see how the recolonization effort was going, it being all that's left of his people and all, and his father's with this group, so..."
"Since when do Spock's whims dictate the course of this ship?" asked McCoy, voice peevish and eyebrow raised. "Oh, I know. Of course. Since you and your first officer suddenly became all buddy-buddy overnight for no apparent reason."
Kirk pinched the bridge of his nose and gestured for McCoy to come fully into the room, allowing the door to shut behind him and giving them a little privacy. "Look," he said. "I know it's weird, okay? I know. But you're just going to have to trust me on this that it needs to be done. We have to meet one of the Elders. It's important. I can't really explain why."
McCoy fixed him with a sharp look. "But it does have something to do with why all those Vulcans who got sick had to be sent home to the colonies, doesn't it? There's something only other Vulcans can do for them?"
"More or less," Kirk said evasively. "Listen, it's private, okay? Spock wouldn't appreciate it if I just went blabbing it around. So you'll just have to trust me."
McCoy sighed. "Son, you know I hate a medical mystery more than any other kind. But alright. God help me I do trust you. I just hope that pointy-eared bastard doesn't get you into trouble."
Kirk laughed to himself as McCoy stomped out of the room in a huff. The good doctor had no idea.
He was in the hallway because he sensed Spock's distress, and it was bothering him. It wasn't serious - he didn't think his first officer was in danger or anything. But the feeling of Spock's need drew him on nevertheless. It was instinct.
When he got close enough to see the reason for Spock's distress, however, he wished that for once he hadn't followed his instincts. Kirk cautiously hid himself around a corner, out of view, and listened to Uhura's quiet response.
"So that's it, then? You're just ending it? Just like that?"
"I apologize. I know it is abrupt."
"It's not that abrupt, Spock." Kirk could hear what sounded almost like a smile in her voice, and yet she still sounded so sad. "The sex has been tapering off for about a month now. We hardly ever do it anymore, and I'm starting to realize... I'm starting to realize that maybe we never had much else."
"I apologize," Spock said again. "I do not wish to bring you pain."
"Oh Spock. Baby." Kirk heard them kiss. "If it didn't cause a little pain, it wouldn't be worth it."
A few moments later, he heard her footsteps retreat, and Spock said, "You may come out now, Captain."
Kirk rounded the corner, not bothering to ask how Spock knew he was there. He knew very well how Spock knew. "You didn't have to do that," he said, feeling guilty. "I mean, you didn't have to do it for me. It's just a few more days, and then we'll have the bond dissolved, and everything can go back to normal. You shouldn't break up with her just on my account."
Spock turned to face Kirk, his face impassive. "It was hurting you."
It had been. But still... "Yeah, but it was just a few more days, like I said. I could've born with it until then. You didn't have to..."
"I don't want to hurt you," Spock repeated in the same calm, serious voice. They happened to be right in front of his chambers, so Spock opened the door and gestured them both inside. Kirk flinched slightly at the change from the cool air of the hall to the hot, dry atmosphere of Spock's cabin. The door closed behind him.
"This is hurting me," Kirk admitted, because he knew Spock could feel it anyway. "The fact that you hurt from losing her. I can feel it. It's not... I know you don't want me to hurt. I don't want you to hurt either."
"Then perhaps you don't have to feel it," said Spock thoughtfully.
Kirk paused, nonplussed. "Sorry," he said after a moment, "I thought that was the whole problem here?"
"What I meant, Jim, is that I think I can block the emotional transference, so that we do not feel each other's emotions for a while."
There was another pause as this sank in, before Kirk burst out, "Spock! You could block the emotions all along, and you haven't been?! What's wrong with you?! Why would you let me feel all that stuff if you-"
Spock cut him off with a raised hand, as abruptly and effectively as if he'd slapped it over Kirk's mouth. "You misunderstand me, Captain," he said quietly. "I can block the emotions, but only for a relatively short period of time. Additionally, it requires intense concentration, so I could not have accomplished it during my... encounters with Lieutenant Uhura in any case. However now, at this moment, I may be able to give us a few hours of peace, at least, if I may have the time alone to meditate."
Kirk felt the tightening clench of Spock's loss at his memory of Uhura, and winced. An hour or two alone with his own thoughts sounded brilliant. "Do it then," he said. "Please."
Spock nodded. "You may return to your cabin, Captain. The synchronicity should fade as my trance increases." With no more farewell than that, Spock assumed a position of meditation and closed his eyes. Kirk took the hint and stepped out of the cabin.
As he made his way back to his own chambers, he felt the effects of Spock's trance, just as the Vulcan had promised. Spock's emotions, his mind, slowly faded from Kirk's consciousness as he moved further and further away, emptying out everything that was not Jim Kirk and leaving him, for the first time in months, alone.
And as Kirk stepped into his own bedroom, he could already tell that he wasn't going to make it several hours. After months of getting used to Spock's mental presence beside his own mind, the absence of him was unbearably lonely. He felt as though a constant companion had been ripped from him, felt lost and lonely, with no one to turn to. Something vitally important was gone. Kirk didn't even make it to his bed before he was heading out again, seeking out Doctor McCoy, out of a sheer desperate need for companionship.
When he reached the doctor's office, McCoy pushed him to a chair. "Jim, you look pale. Sit down."
"I'm..." Kirk started, but there was no way to explain. It would sound silly to say, "I'm alone," but that was what he felt. Utterly, desperately alone. As though half of himself were suddenly gone. Dead. And worse, worst of all somehow, was the knowledge that Spock could not feel his loneliness. The one mind, one heart, with which he had shared everything, could not share this. Did Spock feel so alone as well? Was this how he'd felt when the marriage bond was severed? Spock had described it as the torn end of a ribbon, snapping madly in a high wind. Right now, Kirk felt something of the metaphor himself. He felt... unanchored. Adrift. He took the seat that McCoy offered him.
"What's wrong?" McCoy asked, and Kirk shook his head.
"I'm fine," he lied. "It's okay. I'll be fine. I just wanted to come by and say hello, was all."
McCoy looked unconvinced, but nodded. "Just as well," he said. "There was something I wanted to talk to you about anyway."
"Oh?" asked Kirk, eager for any distraction.
"Yeah. I figure as long as we're taking detours, you might let me stop at the medical supply depot near the star base. Since it's on the way. I could use a few new cases of supplies - won't really take any time at all to beam them up, and it'll be good for the health of the ship. Since you're going to go dallying off to the Vulcan colonies anyway, I figure-"
"We'll stop by your supply depot, Bones, but we won't be going to the Vulcan colonies," said Kirk.
"No?" There was that damned raised eyebrow again.
"No," said Kirk firmly. "In fact, we may not even get as far as the star base, if we can get the orders sent to us at the depot. I want to be heading as far away from the colonies as we can get as soon as possible. Thank you Doctor. It was good to see you."
"Sure," said McCoy with confusion, as Kirk fled the room.
By the time Spock withdrew from his meditation, Kirk already had everything set up. Their new orders would be waiting for them at the medical base, and they would head out immediately. He was on the bridge, trying to occupy himself, when he felt Spock's presence flood back into him with a relief that nearly brought him to tears. He sensed Spock's surprise at his distress, and the reassurance of his presence - both intentional and incidental - calmed Kirk immensely. It was only when he saw the entire bridge crew relax that he realized how tense he must have been, and how it had been affecting everyone's performance. Spock returned to the bridge shortly thereafter.
"There's been a change of plans," Kirk informed the Vulcan as he stepped off the lift. "Our extra time is going to have to be spent picking up some vital supplies for the medical bay, and then we'll have to head straight off from there. I'm afraid we don't have time to stop off at the colonies."
Spock looked somewhat startled - except he didn't. He looked perfectly calm, but Kirk knew that he was startled, because he could feel Spock's emotions once again. The panic in him finally subsided fully.
"Perfectly alright, Captain. I have plenty of time to accomplish my business on the colonies at a later date," said Spock. And this was true. They had nearly two years, in fact, before the pon farr came and they would be forced to end the bond before it became permanent. Plenty of time.
"Good, good," said Kirk. "I thought as much. We'll see to that business later, then. Mr. Sulu, you know the course."
Kirk breathed a sigh of relief as Spock took his position at the science station. Two years was plenty of time. For now, perhaps it was simply best not to worry about it. He glanced over at his Vulcan counterpart. Yes. Best to just let things be for now.
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Read more Timeverse Stories
Fandom: Star Trek (new movie)
Pairing: Kirk/Spock pre-slash, Spock/Uhura
Author: Kagedtiger
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Star Trek belongs to its owners, who are not me.
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for the movie and TOS episode "Amok Time." (Does anyone find it sad that I quoted most of the lines from "Amok Time" from memory? Yeah, me too.)
Summary: Direct sequel to "Past Sorrows, Present Joy." Spock suffers from the severing of his engagement bond with T'Pring, and Things Go Awry.
As much as Kirk tried not to let himself be influenced by old Spock's memories of the future, even he had to admit that he was having difficulty. It wasn't any specific event that bothered him, but the whole tone of the bridge was different. Spock was different. In old Spock's memories, Kirk had felt the two of them like two halves of a single whole, two sides of the same coin. They worked together like a well-oiled machine. He barely had to give an order before Spock had already carried it out, often anticipating him even before Kirk himself knew he was going to make the request. But that was old Spock and his Kirk. This was different, and after experiencing that sort of connection, the difference was frustrating.
"Spock, can I get a lifeform reading on the planet's surface?"
"Momentarily, Captain. First I must finish the gravitational readings."
"Spock."
"Captain," Spock's voice was barely even inflected, and yet somehow Kirk could hear within it the sincere disdain he had for the captain at the moment. "It is vital that I complete these gravitational readings first. An unexpected shift in the planet's gravity could easily jeopardize our orbit. The results, as I'm sure you can imagine, would be disastrous."
Kirk felt frustration seething under his skin, but he tried to take a lesson from Spock and keep his emotions in check. "Of course. Carry on then. Just get me those readings as soon as you can." Maybe it wasn't Spock who was throwing off the synchronicity he had felt. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was both of them. Maybe that feeling just wasn't meant to be in this lifetime.
"What I had with my Jim, you shall not have with your Spock," old Spock had said. Kirk tried not to think about that. He'd been trying to keep the words out of his mind since he'd heard them, because how could he not have that? How could he not have that bond, that shining, soul-defining bond that had arisen between them? He was greedy for it, wanted it right away, despite knowing that it had taken the other Kirk and Spock years to get to that point. But he wanted it as soon as possible because he was afraid, somewhere in the back of his mind, that it might never come at all.
He wanted to share these feelings with someone, to get some kind of advice on how to handle this, but there was no one. McCoy would just laugh at him, Uhura wouldn't give him the time of day, and he didn't really know anyone else on the ship well enough to broach the subject.
No. What he needed was Spock. He knew that, and he knew in the back of his mind that this instinct to share his thoughts with Spock, get the Vulcan's perspective, was probably just another residual effect of the mind-meld. The other Kirk always went to Spock when he was concerned, just as Spock always went to him, they were partners...
And so his thoughts continued, round and round in a circle like this, as they had been continuing for several days now. He slept uneasily, restless, with a constant feeling of lack, that something was off in his life, not present where it should be. With each passing hour he regretted more and more his decision to ask about old Spock and his Kirk. What they had, he might never have, and he might have been better off never knowing that such bonds existed.
When he came onto the bridge at the beginning of his next shift, he didn't notice right away. He was preoccupied with his thoughts, still pondering the idea of destiny, wondering how it applied to him. So it took him a few seconds of silence after absently calling "Spock," before he realized that something was amiss. He looked up to the science station to see a young ensign he didn't recognize standing in Spock's usual position. "Ensign?" he questioned, thrown off more than he felt he should be by Spock's absence. "Where is Commander Spock?"
"S-sir," said the young man, painfully nervous. "He's sick, sir. He's taking a shift in his quarters."
Something nagged at the back of Kirk's mind at this-
"In all the years I've known you, you've never asked for a leave of any sort. In fact you've refused them. Why now?"
-but he ignored it. He looked over at Uhura, but she only shrugged. So Spock was playing hooky. He sighed. Maybe he should just try harder to accept that they were different people than they had been in the other timeline (it was him, he was too different - Spock's life was mostly the same, up until recently. Spock hadn't grown up without his father) and let this go. Let Spock be just another officer on the ship. Old Spock would never have played hooky like this. Ah well. Let him be. Kirk had a ship to run.
For some strange reason, it didn't occur to him that something might honestly be wrong with the Vulcan. It was Spock, after all.
It did occur to him later that day, however, when he passed his first officer in the hall. "Spock," he called, intending to ask about his absence from the bridge. But the Vulcan said nothing, walking straight past him, his expression blank.
Kirk felt offended, not just on a personal level, but in an official sense as well. He was the commanding officer on this ship, after all, and even if he and Spock weren't exactly friends, it was his duty to respond to the commanding officer. This was unacceptable. Kirk turned and called out "Spock!" more seriously.
Again the Vulcan did not respond, but continued walking. Kirk strode after him, anger growing. How dare Spock ignore him. Him! Of all people! He thought they had at least reached some kind of accord, a truce at bare minimum.
And then Spock stumbled, and Kirk mentally backpedaled, reevaluating his view of the situation.
Spock's stumble was brief; he leaned against the wall for a second, and then pushed himself off of it and continued to walk steadily, not running, precisely, but in definitely hurried strides. They were traveling towards the officers' quarters, Kirk realized. Perhaps Spock was still feeling unwell, and needed to go lie down, or meditate, or whatever it was Vulcans did?
Kirk resumed following his first officer, his strides slowing as he realized where, exactly, they were going. Not Spock's room - they'd passed that already - but Uhura's. Ah. Maybe this was something he shouldn't be interfering in after all? But if Spock was just coming down for a booty call, why ignore Kirk to the point of insubordination? Why the stumble?
Uhura's door slid open at the chime, and Kirk could see her smile when she saw who it was. "Spock!" she said happily, obviously surprised to see him. Spock leaned almost wearily against the door frame. Uhura's smile faded to a look of concern. "Spock? Are you okay?"
She made the mistake of approaching him, her hand stretched out to touch, only to have Spock grab her and pin her against the wall, mouth crushing hers mercilessly. Kirk nearly blushed - not exactly a passion he'd expected from his first officer. No wonder Uhura liked him.
Except that she was struggling, Kirk noticed as he got over his embarrassment. The expression on her face was one of fear, not pleasure, and she was desperately struggling to get out of the grip that pinned her. When Spock broke the kiss, her voice was frantic. "Spock! What do you think you're doing! Stop it!"
But Spock was apparently not listening. His hand reached up, resting on her face, his fingers moving to-
Kirk realized what Spock was about to do just in time to surge into the room and grab his first officer's wrist. Sexual harassment was bad enough without adding psychic rape to the list of crimes. Spock looked at him with consternation, and Kirk realized even as he fought the impressive strength of Spock's arm - it was taking both his hands and his full strength just to budge the Vulcan's wrist - that there was no recognition in his face. He didn't know who Kirk was. He didn't even seem to recognize Uhura.
Spock frowned - a careful frown, Vulcan - and sent Kirk flying across the room as easy as shrugging. As Kirk landed in a painful heap against the wall, he heard a high-pitched "hiii-ya!" and looked up in time to see Spock slump to the ground. He blinked at Uhura, whose hand was still extended in the position of the karate chop she had delivered to Spock's neck. Kirk gave her a look that spoke clearly of how utterly confused he was.
"Self-defense class," Uhura muttered sheepishly. "In linguistics, you know, we have to learn a little bit of the alien anatomy for each language, since the sounds are produced differently, and I happen to know just where the voice box and other sensitive areas..." she trailed off, staring down at the slumped form of her Vulcan lover.
Kirk sat up, rubbing the back of his head where it had slammed against the side of a shelf. He'd have a lump there for sure. "That wasn't just me, right?" he asked, joining her in staring at the unconscious Spock. "That was really weird?"
Uhura nodded. "Entirely out of character for him. He said he'd been feeling unwell this morning, needed to meditate. I thought... I guess I don't know what I thought. But yeah. That was really weird."
Kirk moved over to the communicator panel on the wall and punched in sickbay. "This is the captain," he said perfunctorily. "I'm in Lieutenant Uhura's quarters. We need a stretcher to escort Commander Spock to sickbay. Kirk out."
"I'll go with him to sickbay," said Kirk, nodding at her. "I should probably get my head looked at."
"I've always said you needed your head examined," Uhura quipped, but Kirk could tell her heart wasn't in it. She was plainly worried about Spock. They stood in awkward silence until the medical team arrived. They were well-trained, and there were no comments or questions about what Kirk and Spock were both doing in Uhura's quarters. Instead they merely lifted him onto the stretcher and carried the unconscious Vulcan off to the sickbay. Kirk followed, unsure whether he could admit to himself that he was just as worried as she was.
Kirk was still having the bump on his head examined when Spock regained consciousness. He happened to be facing Spock when the Vulcan woke up, and it was a remarkable example of efficiency. The Vulcan's eyelids opened, slowly but completely, and his eyes roamed the room in an informational survey of his surroundings. No other part of his body moved. Finally he said, "I am in sickbay."
"Yup," said Kirk, then winced as McCoy prodded a particularly sore spot.
"Take off your shirt," the doctor ordered Kirk, and Kirk rolled his eyes but complied. He knew he had several large bruises from hitting the wall - he could feel them.
"I have no recollection of how I came to be here," Spock stated calmly. "Do you have that information?"
"Sure," said Kirk. "You more or less attacked Uhura, threw me across the room when I tried to stop you, and then she knocked you out."
Spock's eyebrows creased very slightly in a frown of concentration. He continued to stare at the ceiling from the cot on which he'd awoken. "More or less, Captain?"
Kirk wanted to smack himself in the forehead, but that would probably only serve to make his headache worse. Of course that would be the first thing the Vulcan focused on. No 'whoops, sorry I threw you into a wall, I can see you're injured.' Of course not. But then, Uhura wasn't here, so maybe he was worried he'd done her real harm.
"She's fine," Kirk assured. "You just, uh... came on a little strong. You were a little out of sorts."
"The last thing I remember is leaving my quarters to go to the canteen. I do not recall encountering Lieutenant Uhura."
"You tried to force a mind meld on her," said Kirk sharply, annoyed with Spock's lack of emotion. Spock's eyes widened slightly at this.
Kirk exchanged a look with McCoy, and McCoy handed him his shirt. "You're fine, Jim," he said. "No concussion, though Lord knows you should have one by now, given how careless you are. I guess nature understands that you can't afford to have your wits addled any further. Now, Mr. Spock," McCoy turned to him, wearing his Serious Medical Face. "Memory loss?"
"I am fine, Doctor." Spock sat up. "I believe I am suffering from a minor Vulcan malady. Nothing can be done. I shall return to my quarters and meditate in an attempt to calm it."
"Whoa, hold on now!" McCoy moved to intercept the young Vulcan as he tried to stand. "You just attacked another crewman and have no memory of the event! I can't just let you go! You could be a danger to the ship! What 'malady'? What's wrong with you, if you're so sure you know?"
"I assure you, Doctor, I have everything under control," Spock protested. "It is but a minor concern." Again he tried to stand, and again McCoy blocked his way.
"Jim," McCoy appealed to Kirk, throwing him a 'do something already' look.
"Bones is right," said Kirk, beginning to put his shirt back on. "Until we're sure you're okay, you're confined to sickbay."
"But captain!" Spock protested, forcing McCoy to stop him a third time from standing up.
"That's an order," Kirk said firmly, knowing that if nothing else, Spock knew his duty. He finished slipping his shirt back on and stood. "I have to get back to the bridge. I'll be back later to see how you're doing. If you're just meditating, you can always do it here, right? And I can't afford the risk to my crew of you having another attack, or whatever it was. So stay here until the doctor says you can go." He looked over at McCoy, who nodded.
He echoed the nod himself in satisfaction, and then made his way back to the bridge. Bones would figure out what was wrong.
"How is he?" he asked that night, as he stepped into McCoy's office.
The doctor looked towards the closed door that led into the sickbay and shook his head. "I just don't know, Jim. It's the darnedest thing."
"What do you mean? Explain," Kirk ordered, taking a seat across the desk from the doctor. McCoy pushed a bottle of brandy and an empty glass towards him before taking a sip from his own. Kirk poured himself a drink as he listened to McCoy's explanations.
"Vulcan physiology is bizarre. I had no idea if my readings were anywhere near what they consider 'normal,' so I went and did a little research. It turns out that since the destruction of planet Vulcan, there have been a whole string of cases just like his. Young Vulcans, all of them - it doesn't seem to hit anyone over thirty - just going crazy. Increased passion with loss of recognition, later memory loss - all the symptoms are the same."
"And?" Kirk leaned forward. "What do they do to fix them?"
"That's the weird part," said McCoy. "I have no idea. Every record just says that the Vulcan in question was remanded into the care of Vulcan physicians in one of the colonization groups. No mention of any kind of treatment, or even a mention of what's causing the symptoms. Just 'patient was remanded to the care of doctor so-and-so.' Truly bizarre. It's like a conspiracy."
"So you can't fix it?"
McCoy shook his head. "I did get some details on what Vulcan biology is supposed to look like, and he's in fine condition physically. No problems whatsoever. Whatever it is, it's mental. Stress, maybe. Or grief. Something from suppressing his emotions. I don't know. I guess that would explain why so many Vulcans are experiencing it now, but not why it's only the young ones. Unless the older ones are so used to suppressing their feelings by now that it doesn't even affect them when their whole planet blows up." McCoy's voice sounded disgusted. He sighed and took another sip of brandy from his glass.
"I don't know. It's so hard to tell anything about what's going on in a Vulcan's head. Anyway, he's sleeping now, at least. He hasn't had another episode since you brought him in, but I'm not convinced he's better. Even though he spent most of the afternoon in his damn meditational state. I tell you, it's not normal for someone to be that still! But yeah - I'm still not convinced he won't do it again. I want to at least keep him overnight. I was thinking of posting a guard, in case he decides to go sleepwalking."
"I'll do it," Kirk heard himself say.
McCoy said nothing, just raised an eyebrow at him.
"I mean," Kirk said, wondering why he even cared, "I'll sleep on the cot next to him. That way I'll hear him if he tries to get up." Why was he offering? This was what he had subordinates for. Why should he be the one to give up a night's sleep in his own comfy bed?
McCoy shrugged and took another drink. "Suit yourself," he said. "But if he does go wandering around at night, call for backup. Vulcans are stronger than humans, and you don't need any more bruises."
"Sure thing Bones," said Kirk, and stood to go into the sickbay.
Spock was indeed asleep on one of the cots and Kirk, feeling suddenly tired, took the one next to him. 'He'll be fine,' he told himself. 'Of course he'll be fine.'
As he drifted off to sleep, whispers of voices played through his head.
"It has to do with... biology."
When Kirk woke up in the middle of the night, he wasn't certain why, or even where he was. In the half a minute or so that it took him to realize he was in sickbay and remember why he was there, the answer to his first question became apparent - Spock.
The Vulcan was tossing restlessly, occasionally murmuring or moaning in his sleep. Whatever he was dreaming about, it didn't sound pleasant. Kirk could make out very little of what he was saying, but one word seemed to crop up a lot - something like 'ping' or 'ring.' Kirk sat up on his cot, blinking his eyes a few times and yawning. Though his dream seemed unpleasant, Spock showed no apparent signs of waking to an episode, or of sleepwalking.
But as he let out another low, pained moan, Kirk felt his heart going out to the Vulcan. McCoy had said that whatever was ailing him might have to do with grief over his lost planet. Kirk knew grief, knew loss, but how much worse must it be for Spock? Kirk had lost his father, but he'd never known the man who was killed the day Kirk was born. Spock had just lost his planet, his mother, everyone he'd ever known, any friends he'd ever had. How deep must that grief be? How horrible the psychic wound?
Spock thrashed suddenly, and Kirk got up off his cot, making his way over to the Vulcan's side. He wasn't sure there was much he could do, but he was pretty sure it couldn't hurt to try. The worst that would happen would be Spock might thrash into him and knock him back again, and he'd already survived that once, so it couldn't be too bad. Or Spock would wake up and Kirk would be embarrassed, but it wasn't like Spock was a gossip, or had the emotional capacity necessary to hold it against him. (Or did he? No. No, Kirk was pretty sure that Spock wouldn't do that.) So Kirk reached out tentatively and put a hand on the side of Spock's face, by his temple. "Shh," he said quietly. "Nothing's wrong, Spock. It'll be okay. Shh. Calm down."
To his surprise, Spock did actually calm slightly. His thrashing stopped, as did the moaning, although his head still tossed back and forth, his brow creased. "Nyota?" he mumbled.
"No, Spock, it's me. It's Jim," said Kirk, putting his other hand on the other side of Spock's head to hold him steady. "You're having a bad dream. It's okay. It's just a dream."
Still apparently sleeping, Spock raised a hand towards Kirk, and Kirk realized too late what he was doing. Spock's hand was on his face - no, both hands - and Spock's mind was sliding into his, touching it in the lightest of feather-kisses. Kirk tried to let go of Spock's face, but found he couldn't move. Spock's mind kept him anchored there, as surely as if he'd been restraining Kirk physically. Words, images, and emotions flooded into his mind, confused, jumbled, slowly at first, and then more and more, harder, faster. This was no orderly display of facts, the way old Spock had shared with him. This was just a meld, just a chaotic merging of their minds, and Kirk felt like he was falling, no, drowning. He stopped being aware of his physical self, lost in the mind and memories in front of him, there and gone too quickly to register.
"Jim."
He could hear Spock's voice, but Spock wasn't speaking. The words weren't even being spoken, they just were. They simply existed somewhere between them, somewhere inside the entity that was their shared consciousness.
"Though you may be parted from me, never shall we be parted. Never and always touching and touched. When the Time comes, I shall find you."
"Spock," Jim said, or thought. And he had intended it to be a protest, an attempt to break them apart, but instead he fell further into Spock's mind, sucked in by an irresistible gravity, and someone was speaking words for him, words he did not recognize, but was speaking himself, had to speak, and he did not know why.
"Though you may be parted from me, never shall we be parted. Never and always touching and touched. When the Time comes, I will await you."
He hadn't said that, had he? What had he just said? What were these words? Where had they come from? What was going on? Images and sensations flowed through his mind - hot sand, the ringing of bells, thin air, sun, and the bells, always the bells.
"It is agreed," were the words, somewhere in the heat of the desert. Words that had been spoken once long ago, and were continually heard - their sound echoed through time, never spoken again but constantly existing, escaping into the world through new voices.
With an abruptness that sent him reeling, Kirk was thrown back into the physical world, staggering backwards from Spock's cot. The Vulcan was asleep now - truly, deeply asleep, dead to the world. Kirk himself had no idea what had just happened. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe this was all just a bizarre dream, and he'd wake up in the morning to find that he'd slept through Spock sleepwalking and going off to murder one of the crew members. Cheerful.
Kirk made his way unsteadily back to his own cot and lay down, staring at the ceiling. What in all the universe had that been? At least Spock seemed calm now. That was a good sign, he supposed.
A deep weariness suddenly came over him, and though he hadn't expected to, Kirk felt himself falling asleep. His body felt unbearably heavy, and his conscious sagged as he succumbed to the encroaching dark.
When Kirk awoke, it was to find Spock sitting up on his cot, staring at him. Kirk sniffed, blinked, and looked over at the Vulcan. Though Spock's expression was completely blank, he was somehow aware that the Vulcan was seething with anger. How he was aware he wasn't sure, but he felt it with a conviction that he'd never had before.
"Why did you allow me to meld with you?" Spock asked, his voice tight.
At least he remembered, Kirk thought wryly, his wits still catching up with his wakefulness. "I didn't exactly have much of a choice. And don't you blame me for this! I was just trying to be nice! I was just trying to help you out of a bad dream! You're the one who grabbed my face like that."
Spock lowered his face into his hands and groaned in expression of world-weariness that seemed almost human. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"
"What do you mean me?" Kirk decided that he'd definitely gotten up on the wrong side of the bed. The side of the bed with a Vulcan next to it. He was already itching for a fight, and he'd barely finished regaining consciousness. "If anything, what we've done. Or what you've done, I really think it should be. ...What have you done, anyway?"
Spock didn't say anything right away, and it was weird, but Kirk swore he could feel the Vulcan's embarrassment. All his emotions - anger, fear, shame, confusion... but that didn't make sense. Spock wasn't displaying any of those. And suddenly the words from the previous night rose into Kirk's mind.
'Though you may be parted from me, never shall we be parted. Never and always touching and touched. When the Time comes, I shall await you.'
There was a jarring echo in his mind, something not from his own memories, something he'd experienced vicariously, but so very strongly.
"Spock. Parted from me, and never parted. Never and always touching and touched. I await you."
And beyond that, something the old Spock had said to him before they'd parted: "My younger self now suffers from the abrupt severance of the psychic marriage bond before its consummation. At least one adventure you will not share, or will share differently." It made what Spock said next less of a surprise.
"We may have become... accidentally... betrothed."
Less surprising, that was, but not less disturbing.
"We're what?!" Kirk yelled.
"Please," said Spock quietly. "Keep your voice down. This is not something I wish anyone else to know of."
"And you think I do?" Kirk countered. He glanced around, but luckily they seemed to be alone in the sickbay. Nevertheless, he lowered his voice. "Okay. What do you mean, betrothed? What are you talking about?"
"The marriage bond," Spock said haltingly. "I... on Vulcan, I had a... a fiancée, I suppose you could say, or perhaps a wife. There are no human words that precisely encompass the relationship. When the planet was destroyed, the bond was severed. Psychic bonds are powerful. Without an anchor on the other end, it was loose. Consider a ribbon stretched taught between two poles in a high wind. If the ribbon were to be suddenly severed, the ends would flap about, loosely, until secured. This is similar, although the metaphor is somewhat imperfect. My bond was... seeking, as it were. You told me I attacked Nyota - tried to meld with her. Anything but the briefest touch of minds cements the bond. I must have been trying to bond with her. However, it seems you got there first." He glared at Kirk, although it wouldn't have seemed that way to anyone else. But Kirk could feel the glare, understood Spock's expression in a way he hadn't before. Now it was clear why.
"So... are you saying we're married then?"
"Not quite. A full ceremony to consummate the bond would take place several years from now, when I- when-" Spock stopped, and his mind felt shut-off from Kirk. Guarded. Kirk frowned. He didn't appreciate secrets. "Perhaps it will not be an issue," said Spock. "Perhaps my human blood will spare-"
"I had hoped I would be spared this. But the ancient drives are too strong."
"It won't," Kirk said with conviction. Then, at Spock's raised eyebrow, "You're talking about the pon farr, right?"
Spock's expression changed to one of incredulity. "How do you know about the pon farr?"
"It is a deeply personal thing, Captain, can't you understand that?"
"Uh..." and now Kirk remembered that he was keeping secrets of his own. He couldn't exactly say, 'Oh, an older version of you from the future shared his thoughts with me, and I still kind of remember that time that he went into heat and almost killed his version of me. Very vividly, in fact, because that was probably the moment that the future version of you realized that he loved the future version of me.' "Nevermind," he said instead. "Look, it's not important how I know, but I do know a lot about it. Like the whole plak tow blood fever insanity thing, and the marriage or challenge ceremony. I know. And I, uh... I know how strong the pon farr drive is, and I doubt you'll be able to get out of it just because you have a little human blood."
Spock looked at him strangely for a second, suspicious, but then a sudden look of understanding dawned, quickly covered up and replaced by his familiar serene mask. "Well then," he said, "you know what it entails."
"Some of it, yeah," Kirk agreed. "And I really don't think I want to be your wife, no offense. Is there any way to break the bond? I mean, without you going crazy again?"
Spock shook his head. "The bond is very powerful on purpose. It ensures that we are driven home at the time of the pon farr, to avoid any harm that might come to those around us when we descend into madness. It can only be broken by death. This is why the combat for the female must always be to the death - any less, and the bond would not be severed."
Kirk frowned. "Wait, so why do only the women get to challenge? What if you wanted to marry someone else? Shouldn't she fight to the death for you, too?"
Spock shook his head again, impatient. "The male is in no position to make any sort of rational or logical decision in the midst of the plak tow. The pon farr is an insanity, Captain. It would be illogical for the male to have any say in the matter."
"So," Kirk felt an emotion rising in himself, almost like panic. "So there's no way to stop this? No way to break the bond?"
Spock hesitated. "There might... among the Elders, there might be one with skill enough to dissolve the bond safely. But they are busy with the recolonization of our race. To bother them with such a trifle would be..."
"If we don't, Spock, then you and I have to get married. What would Uhura think?" He paused, frowning. "What did she think about the fact that you had another girl back home?"
Spock stared at the floor, his expression still somewhat annoyed, but Kirk could feel that he was slightly embarrassed about the subject. He knew human customs well enough to know that Uhura would not interpret the situation the same way that he did, but nevertheless he said, "It is different for Vulcans. Until it is consummated, the bond does not imply a single commitment, especially in cases such as mine where one party is... was... distant. It merely ensures a safe and discreet outlet for the pon farr, when it occurs."
"Right," said Kirk, unimpressed. "Okay then. So these Elders could maybe do it. We'll have to make a side trip to see them."
"Captain..." Kirk could feel Spock's awkwardness, his unwillingness to disturb such sacred beings with such monumental tasks in front of them.
Kirk shook off the last remnants of his rather uncomfortable sleep, leaning his head to the side to get a kink out of his neck, and stood, heading for the door. "Might as well call me Jim, when we're not in command situations," he offered. "After all, we're apparently engaged now."
Over the next couple weeks, Kirk learned quite a few things about what it meant to have a psychic marriage bond with a Vulcan. Some of the things he learned were good: the feeling of synchronicity that he'd been craving, that feeling of anticipating and fulfilling one another's needs was there and more. Kirk had barely to say, "Spock, what would you estimate as the population of that landmass?" before Spock was already relaying him a stream of data providing not only the population, but main food sources, trade, technology level, and about a dozen other facts that Kirk hadn't realize he needed until Spock had mentioned them. It was very nearly blissful, working with him, a perfect team effort.
And not only that, everyone on the bridge seemed to be picking up on it. Taking from their example, the crew became like the well-oiled machine Kirk had seen in the old Spock's memories. They supported each other, took care of each other, saw to each other's needs with startling rapidity, and everyone covered for the steps that others missed. The bridge was beautifully efficient, which made Kirk a happy captain.
Other things he learned were not as pleasant.
Kirk liked sex as much as the next man - more, probably, in fact - but there were some boundaries even he didn't want to cross, and eavesdropping on another couple was one of them. Since the bonding, he'd had a continuous low-level awareness of Spock's emotions at all times, particularly when the Vulcan was nearby (and exceedingly strong in the rare moments that they had any sort of physical contact). Most of the time it was easy to ignore - Spock's emotions were pretty settled, even when he wasn't actively repressing them, and their mildness meant they didn't transfer as well across the bond. But sometimes, in times of extreme emotion or lowered emotional guard, they were difficult or even impossible to ignore.
Times such as when Spock was having sex with Uhura, for example.
Kirk didn't want to eavesdrop. He really didn't. But the bond gave him little choice. He'd lie in bed (he had very quickly learned that it was a Bad Idea to be on duty when Spock and Uhura might be having sex), feeling Spock's aggression and the sharp, sexual edge to it. Every time Uhura did something that made the Vulcan gasp or moan, Kirk felt it. It got to the point where he really wished he could see them, just to know what it was she was doing, just so his mind didn't constantly invent things each time he felt that one specific twinge from Spock, the rush of pleasure that accompanied some specific action. He could always tell when Spock entered her, the way the heat, the desperate desire suddenly exploded, bringing him near frenzy.
Altogether, Kirk was profoundly embarrassed, all the more so because that constant a barrage of pleasure meant that he couldn't help but grow hard. It felt wrong, especially because it was only Spock's side he could feel, and he'd never really been that attracted to men before. Not that he'd never thought about it in his life or anything - everyone experimented around in Starfleet, just to find out what they were really into - it was just that he'd generally always preferred the softness and the mystery of the female form. There was nothing soft about Spock's lust, about the driving aggression of it, and Kirk defiantly did not want to be aroused by it. But Spock's lust was so strong, his arousal so intense, that the residual effect always swept over him, and Kirk was unable to control himself.
After the third time, as Kirk lay shamefaced in his chambers, cum drying on his hands and stomach, feeling the soft glow of Spock's after-pleasure and hating himself particularly hard, he was surprised by a tendril of sympathy. A small, apologetic touch to his mind that soothed his hurt, assured him that there was nothing to be ashamed of. Kirk wanted to be angry that Spock had known all along that he could feel it when the Vulcan had sex, and had done nothing to stop the emotional resonance, but that gentle touch of Spock's mind to his assured him that Spock could not control their synchronicity any more than Kirk could. That this was unfortunate, but uncontrollable. And, after all, it was at least half Kirk's fault too, wasn't it?
'I had one compassionate moment,' Kirk thought with a sigh, and reached over the edge of the bed for a pair of dirty boxers to wipe himself off with.
By mutual agreement, Kirk and Spock had decided not to tell anyone about their little problem, but Kirk was pretty sure that McCoy was aware that something was up. He had been suspicious enough when his patient had suddenly made a miraculous recovery, with not a trace that he'd ever had any sort of affliction at all. But as the days went on and Kirk and Spock began to finish each other's sentences, each anticipating the needs of the other in a way that was almost supernatural, Kirk knew that Bones smelled a rat.
The confrontation that Kirk had been anticipating came finally when their first few missions were finished, and there was a small break before the next. They'd been supposed to head to the nearest star base to await further orders, but Kirk had unexpectedly ordered a detour to one of the new Vulcan colonies. They'd been sailing for four months by that point, and Kirk and Spock had been bonded for three of them.
"Care to tell me why the Enterprise is diverting to the new Vulcan colony?" asked McCoy as he leaned against the door frame of Kirk's room.
"It's not much of a delay," Kirk hedged. "Really, it's only a day out of our way, it's not like it's any trouble."
"That doesn't answer my question," said McCoy stubbornly.
"Well, you know, Spock wanted to see how the recolonization effort was going, it being all that's left of his people and all, and his father's with this group, so..."
"Since when do Spock's whims dictate the course of this ship?" asked McCoy, voice peevish and eyebrow raised. "Oh, I know. Of course. Since you and your first officer suddenly became all buddy-buddy overnight for no apparent reason."
Kirk pinched the bridge of his nose and gestured for McCoy to come fully into the room, allowing the door to shut behind him and giving them a little privacy. "Look," he said. "I know it's weird, okay? I know. But you're just going to have to trust me on this that it needs to be done. We have to meet one of the Elders. It's important. I can't really explain why."
McCoy fixed him with a sharp look. "But it does have something to do with why all those Vulcans who got sick had to be sent home to the colonies, doesn't it? There's something only other Vulcans can do for them?"
"More or less," Kirk said evasively. "Listen, it's private, okay? Spock wouldn't appreciate it if I just went blabbing it around. So you'll just have to trust me."
McCoy sighed. "Son, you know I hate a medical mystery more than any other kind. But alright. God help me I do trust you. I just hope that pointy-eared bastard doesn't get you into trouble."
Kirk laughed to himself as McCoy stomped out of the room in a huff. The good doctor had no idea.
He was in the hallway because he sensed Spock's distress, and it was bothering him. It wasn't serious - he didn't think his first officer was in danger or anything. But the feeling of Spock's need drew him on nevertheless. It was instinct.
When he got close enough to see the reason for Spock's distress, however, he wished that for once he hadn't followed his instincts. Kirk cautiously hid himself around a corner, out of view, and listened to Uhura's quiet response.
"So that's it, then? You're just ending it? Just like that?"
"I apologize. I know it is abrupt."
"It's not that abrupt, Spock." Kirk could hear what sounded almost like a smile in her voice, and yet she still sounded so sad. "The sex has been tapering off for about a month now. We hardly ever do it anymore, and I'm starting to realize... I'm starting to realize that maybe we never had much else."
"I apologize," Spock said again. "I do not wish to bring you pain."
"Oh Spock. Baby." Kirk heard them kiss. "If it didn't cause a little pain, it wouldn't be worth it."
A few moments later, he heard her footsteps retreat, and Spock said, "You may come out now, Captain."
Kirk rounded the corner, not bothering to ask how Spock knew he was there. He knew very well how Spock knew. "You didn't have to do that," he said, feeling guilty. "I mean, you didn't have to do it for me. It's just a few more days, and then we'll have the bond dissolved, and everything can go back to normal. You shouldn't break up with her just on my account."
Spock turned to face Kirk, his face impassive. "It was hurting you."
It had been. But still... "Yeah, but it was just a few more days, like I said. I could've born with it until then. You didn't have to..."
"I don't want to hurt you," Spock repeated in the same calm, serious voice. They happened to be right in front of his chambers, so Spock opened the door and gestured them both inside. Kirk flinched slightly at the change from the cool air of the hall to the hot, dry atmosphere of Spock's cabin. The door closed behind him.
"This is hurting me," Kirk admitted, because he knew Spock could feel it anyway. "The fact that you hurt from losing her. I can feel it. It's not... I know you don't want me to hurt. I don't want you to hurt either."
"Then perhaps you don't have to feel it," said Spock thoughtfully.
Kirk paused, nonplussed. "Sorry," he said after a moment, "I thought that was the whole problem here?"
"What I meant, Jim, is that I think I can block the emotional transference, so that we do not feel each other's emotions for a while."
There was another pause as this sank in, before Kirk burst out, "Spock! You could block the emotions all along, and you haven't been?! What's wrong with you?! Why would you let me feel all that stuff if you-"
Spock cut him off with a raised hand, as abruptly and effectively as if he'd slapped it over Kirk's mouth. "You misunderstand me, Captain," he said quietly. "I can block the emotions, but only for a relatively short period of time. Additionally, it requires intense concentration, so I could not have accomplished it during my... encounters with Lieutenant Uhura in any case. However now, at this moment, I may be able to give us a few hours of peace, at least, if I may have the time alone to meditate."
Kirk felt the tightening clench of Spock's loss at his memory of Uhura, and winced. An hour or two alone with his own thoughts sounded brilliant. "Do it then," he said. "Please."
Spock nodded. "You may return to your cabin, Captain. The synchronicity should fade as my trance increases." With no more farewell than that, Spock assumed a position of meditation and closed his eyes. Kirk took the hint and stepped out of the cabin.
As he made his way back to his own chambers, he felt the effects of Spock's trance, just as the Vulcan had promised. Spock's emotions, his mind, slowly faded from Kirk's consciousness as he moved further and further away, emptying out everything that was not Jim Kirk and leaving him, for the first time in months, alone.
And as Kirk stepped into his own bedroom, he could already tell that he wasn't going to make it several hours. After months of getting used to Spock's mental presence beside his own mind, the absence of him was unbearably lonely. He felt as though a constant companion had been ripped from him, felt lost and lonely, with no one to turn to. Something vitally important was gone. Kirk didn't even make it to his bed before he was heading out again, seeking out Doctor McCoy, out of a sheer desperate need for companionship.
When he reached the doctor's office, McCoy pushed him to a chair. "Jim, you look pale. Sit down."
"I'm..." Kirk started, but there was no way to explain. It would sound silly to say, "I'm alone," but that was what he felt. Utterly, desperately alone. As though half of himself were suddenly gone. Dead. And worse, worst of all somehow, was the knowledge that Spock could not feel his loneliness. The one mind, one heart, with which he had shared everything, could not share this. Did Spock feel so alone as well? Was this how he'd felt when the marriage bond was severed? Spock had described it as the torn end of a ribbon, snapping madly in a high wind. Right now, Kirk felt something of the metaphor himself. He felt... unanchored. Adrift. He took the seat that McCoy offered him.
"What's wrong?" McCoy asked, and Kirk shook his head.
"I'm fine," he lied. "It's okay. I'll be fine. I just wanted to come by and say hello, was all."
McCoy looked unconvinced, but nodded. "Just as well," he said. "There was something I wanted to talk to you about anyway."
"Oh?" asked Kirk, eager for any distraction.
"Yeah. I figure as long as we're taking detours, you might let me stop at the medical supply depot near the star base. Since it's on the way. I could use a few new cases of supplies - won't really take any time at all to beam them up, and it'll be good for the health of the ship. Since you're going to go dallying off to the Vulcan colonies anyway, I figure-"
"We'll stop by your supply depot, Bones, but we won't be going to the Vulcan colonies," said Kirk.
"No?" There was that damned raised eyebrow again.
"No," said Kirk firmly. "In fact, we may not even get as far as the star base, if we can get the orders sent to us at the depot. I want to be heading as far away from the colonies as we can get as soon as possible. Thank you Doctor. It was good to see you."
"Sure," said McCoy with confusion, as Kirk fled the room.
By the time Spock withdrew from his meditation, Kirk already had everything set up. Their new orders would be waiting for them at the medical base, and they would head out immediately. He was on the bridge, trying to occupy himself, when he felt Spock's presence flood back into him with a relief that nearly brought him to tears. He sensed Spock's surprise at his distress, and the reassurance of his presence - both intentional and incidental - calmed Kirk immensely. It was only when he saw the entire bridge crew relax that he realized how tense he must have been, and how it had been affecting everyone's performance. Spock returned to the bridge shortly thereafter.
"There's been a change of plans," Kirk informed the Vulcan as he stepped off the lift. "Our extra time is going to have to be spent picking up some vital supplies for the medical bay, and then we'll have to head straight off from there. I'm afraid we don't have time to stop off at the colonies."
Spock looked somewhat startled - except he didn't. He looked perfectly calm, but Kirk knew that he was startled, because he could feel Spock's emotions once again. The panic in him finally subsided fully.
"Perfectly alright, Captain. I have plenty of time to accomplish my business on the colonies at a later date," said Spock. And this was true. They had nearly two years, in fact, before the pon farr came and they would be forced to end the bond before it became permanent. Plenty of time.
"Good, good," said Kirk. "I thought as much. We'll see to that business later, then. Mr. Sulu, you know the course."
Kirk breathed a sigh of relief as Spock took his position at the science station. Two years was plenty of time. For now, perhaps it was simply best not to worry about it. He glanced over at his Vulcan counterpart. Yes. Best to just let things be for now.
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