Star Trek Fic: Out of Time (1/2)
Title: Out of Time
Fandom: Star Trek (new movie)
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Author: Kagedtiger
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Star Trek belongs to its owners, who are not me.
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for the movie and somewhat minor spoilers for "Amok Time."
Summary: Sequel to "Future Bliss." Two years later, the pon farr finally catches up with them. More notes under the cut.
Notes: First of all, a big thank you to the Vulcan Language Dictionary for the unfamiliar words I had to go and pick out myself. Secondly, the Memory Alpha archive's entry on pon farr says that in current Star Trek canon, female Vulcans also go into pon farr. I think this is stupid and directly contradicts the canon established in "Amok Time," so I'm ignoring it. So there. As far as I can tell, they only say so in the Enterprise series anyway, and I resent that series' need to over-sexualize T'Pol. So Enterprise can suck it. And finally, this story was originally going to be NC-17, but a graphic sex scene did not seem to fit with the tone of the rest of the story. If anyone really desperately misses the pon farr sex scene, I may be able to be persuaded to write it as a separate drabble. Let me know. And now, on with the fic.
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Two years was a long time to put something off, but somehow they managed to never mention it. It would occur to Kirk occasionally, especially in the times when the psychic bond with his first officer was particularly unpleasant or inconvenient, that they could always get it removed. But the thought always faded quickly, and time and again the bond proved itself more useful than inconvenient, a great asset in many situations, and so thoughts of ending it occurred only very rarely.
Kirk learned that there was a lot one could grow accustomed to. It no longer seemed even slightly strange to have Spock's presence constantly in the back of his mind. Their newfound awareness of one another made it easy to spend time together, and around their bond, whether because of or in spite of it, a friendship grew, real and honest, and cemented naturally what had been shoved on them artificially.
Kirk had grown so accustomed to the behavior of his first officer that almost nothing the Vulcan did could surprise him anymore. When it did, the surprise was always the greater for it. Which was why Kirk was nearly bowled off his feet when, after no more warning than a few days of vaguely nervous sensations from Spock, he entered the Vulcan's quarters only to hear Spock say quietly, "We need to end this now, my friend. Our time has run out."
It took Kirk only a matter of seconds to parse Spock's meaning. "You're going into pon farr. We need to get you back to the colonies."
Spock inclined his head in a nod. "As soon as possible."
"But..." Kirk did some quick calculations in his head. "At our current distance, it'll take us a week to get back."
"I know." Spock's eyes burned into his. "As soon as possible, Jim. We must hurry."
His eyes on Spock, Kirk made his way to the communications panel by the door and punched in the bridge. "Bridge, this is the captain. Mr. Chekov, plot a course for the Vulcan colonies, and lay in immediately at maximum warp. Whichever one's closest. Remus, preferably."
"But Captain," came the voice, "our orders-"
"I know," Kirk cut him off. "I'll clear it with Command later. Just lay in the course and get us there as quickly as possible. Kirk out." He took his hand off the panel and stood, watching his first officer. Spock was sitting in the middle of his bed, eyes closed once more, in a meditational position.
"Why did you wait?" Kirk asked. After two years of being bonded, he hardly needed to clarify his question for Spock to understand.
"I wasn't sure it was going to happen," said Spock serenely. "It should have happened sooner. I had hoped that my human blood might spare us this. But as you predicted, the ancient drives are too strong. There can be no more holding it back."
"I should've felt this." Kirk's voice was angry, but only because of the guilt he felt. He knew Spock could feel that guilt, and would not hold the anger against him. "Why didn't I?"
"I have been suppressing it to some extent. As best I could, at any rate. It is only now beginning to come on fully. No, Jim."
This last was because Kirk had started forward, intending to sit next to him on the bed. Kirk stopped, startled. In the past six months or so, he'd gotten used to extended physical contact, at least when they were alone. Whether conversing or just relaxing, it had become habit for the two of them to sit back to back, or side by side with their legs touching. Physical contact greatly strengthened the intensity of sensation in the bond, and having such an intimate awareness of each others' thoughts led to extremely easy and rewarding conversation. To have such contact taken from him now was hurtful to Kirk, and he frowned.
"If you touch me, Jim, there will be no stopping it," Spock explained. "I am already too far gone. You said once you did not wish to be my wife." His eyes opened, to impress his seriousness upon Kirk. "We must get used to this while we can. The lack of physical contact will be nothing to the dissolution of the bond. You must re-accustom yourself to being alone."
"What about you?" Kirk asked. He felt like a child, wanted to throw a temper tantrum and scream and cry and throw things. He didn't want to quietly give up the bond that had carried them through two years of missions, the bond that had let Spock know whenever Kirk was in trouble, and send help, the bond that had let him peer beneath the surface of his first officer, and read the emotions that no one else even knew existed, let alone could interpret.
"I will bond with whatever female is chosen for me upon my arrival. The marriage bond will form the instant we touch, and then the ceremony that consummates it will occur immediately afterwards. Jim..." Spock hesitated, and Kirk knew he wanted to ask something personal, an event that, even now, was rare and uncomfortable for Spock.
Kirk just waited, and eventually Spock said, "Would you ensure the choosing of a suitable mate for me? My father knows this will be happening, and no doubt has selected someone, but I will be in no condition to ensure that his choice will be appropriate for me. You know me better than anyone else. I know this choice will be a burden to you, but..."
"Of course, Spock," Kirk said, smiling. Once again he had to resist the urge step forward and touch Spock, lay a hand on his shoulder. "Of course I will."
"Thank you," said Spock simply. His eyes closed, and he returned to his meditational state. Kirk remained for a few minutes longer, watching him. Spock didn't really feel any different to Kirk, which surprised him. He would've thought the pon farr effect would be far more noticeable, given its strength. But if Spock said the time had come, Kirk trusted him.
"When the Time comes, I will await you."
Kirk felt his heart wrench. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to give up this bond. But he had to. He couldn't very well go and marry his first officer. That wouldn't do. That wouldn't do at all. And logically, he knew that this was the soundest decision, and that there would be a lot of benefits to ending the bond.
But Kirk had never been particularly logical, much to Spock's dismay and eventual fondness.
Kirk let himself out of Spock's room and made his way back towards his own cabin at a slow pace. He tried to think about the pros of dissolving the bond, to concentrate on them. Surely there were some.
Well, he'd be able to have sex again, for one. Nearly two years ago now, when Spock had broken off his relationship with Uhura to spare Kirk the pain and embarrassment of having to vicariously experience their sexual activities, it hadn't really occurred to Kirk that this meant that Kirk himself would also not be able to have sex.
He'd still tried to, at first. Within the following three months he'd had six different girls, unable to help himself. But each time the pain and reproach from Spock, the reminder of what he'd given up for Kirk's sake, left him with a terrible guilt afterwards. His encounters became fewer and far between, until, at the end of their first year together, they'd stopped entirely. In the two years since the bond, Kirk had had sex only nine times. Since he'd stopped seeing Uhura, Spock had had sex only two. And for one of them he'd been drugged.
So yeah. Sex would be nice. He missed sex. He really missed sex. But... but dammit, he'd had something better than sex! He'd had a companion, a constant presence, someone who understood him like no one else possibly could. And though Kirk wasn't sure he really wanted to admit it, the depth of the bond he had with Spock made the shallow physical encounters he'd had previously pale in comparison. They were... incidental. Meant nothing. The bond meant something. The bond was important, and now...
Kirk remembered how alone he'd felt when they'd last tried to separate the bond, only months after it had been formed. How lonely, like the only person in the entire world. How much stronger would the separation be now, after two years? Could he survive it? Well, supposedly the Vulcan Elders would know, anyway. But what if they couldn't separate the bond? What if it had grown too strong for them? Wouldn't it be all the stronger now that the pon farr was approaching?
For the first time in a long time, Kirk was genuinely afraid. No matter what happened, something big and fundamental was about to change in his life. He could only hope he was prepared.
Spock resumed his duties that afternoon at the beginning of his shift as though nothing had happened. Things proceeded as usual, the crew functioning with their usual speed and efficiency. Kirk and Spock made a special effort to stand a reasonable distance away from each other, so that they would not accidentally touch. When they went off shift, things were still more or less normal, although a little more tense than usual. Kirk had some difficulty falling asleep, but not for too long.
By the time their shift came up the following morning, however, there was not even a hope of normalcy. Kirk sat in the captain's chair, feeling as though the surface of his skin was tingling all over.
Doctor McCoy stepped off the lift, preoccupied by some paperwork on a clipboard in front of him. When he looked up, his expression changed to one of puzzlement. "Where's Spock?" he asked. "It's time for his scheduled physical."
"I've confined him to quarters," said Kirk. It was difficult for him to concentrate on what other people were saying, but he could manage with some effort.
"Confined? Why?" asked the doctor.
Kirk was at something of a loss. He couldn't exactly cite medical reasons. It would be very bad indeed if McCoy tried to examine Spock. Dimly, a memory not his reminded him,
"You will cease to pry into my personal affairs, Doctor, or I shall certainly break your neck."
No. McCoy should not be examining Spock. "Vulcan holiday," Kirk invented instead. "Very important day of- week of rest. He must remain cloistered for it."
McCoy raised an eyebrow at him, very obviously not buying it. "He didn't take any leave last year."
"Yes, well," said Kirk. "He converted. Found religion. It was very sudden. Just- nevermind."
"Uh... huh..." said McCoy slowly. "Alright then. You let him know that whenever he's done communing with the void or whatever, he should see me in sickbay. He owes me a physical to keep his medical records up to date."
"Will do, Bones," Kirk assured, relieved that the doctor wasn't going to continue to press questions on him. "Sure. I'll let him know."
McCoy frowned at him. "You don't look so hot either. Why don't you come and see me at the end of your shift."
Kirk nodded, wishing McCoy would just leave already. "Sure, yeah. Okay."
McCoy gave him one last suspicious look, before heading out the way he came.
"You have a bit of a fever," McCoy told him later with a frown as he let Kirk up from the sickbay cot. "Maybe you should stay here overnight for observation."
"I'm fine, Bones," said Kirk. Spock was meditating again, which meant Kirk was very nearly capable of holding a civil conversation once more. "I'm just a little... stressed, is all."
"Yeah, well, if this stress keeps up much longer, I may be forced to take you off duty. Spock can come up out of his sacred voodoo to take over for a day."
"No!" said Kirk, panicked, and then winced as he realized how that must have sounded.
McCoy sighed. "Jim, I think it's time you level with me. What in the moons of Jupiter is going on?"
Kirk echoed the sigh, pressing his hands together between his knees. The pressure of Spock's pon farr had gotten steadily worse over the course of the day, making it harder and harder for Kirk to concentrate on anything except the Vulcan's desperate, seeking need. McCoy was probably right. Even if Kirk was fit to command now, he wouldn't be in the next few days. And if it was this bad for him, how bad must it be for Spock, at the source? How terrible the heat, the need, the-
"Jim."
Kirk realized that he had started to stand up, intending to go to Spock's room. It wasn't the first time he'd caught himself on the verge of doing that today. He sat down again.
"Bones, I don't know what to... how to..." Kirk rubbed his temples. "You're right. I should probably go off duty for a few days. But Spock can't take over. He's in no condition for it."
"He's sick?" asked McCoy sharply. "Jim, you should've told me. I should go examine-"
"No," said Kirk firmly. "We know what's wrong, and it's nothing you can fix. It's nothing he can spread, or anything, only-" Kirk swallowed. "It can spread to me, I can't explain why, but I'm getting sort of... secondary symptoms, to what he has. I can't go near him for the next few days. If I do, I'll catch it, and that would be... that would be... bad..." Would it? He was becoming less and less sure. Surely anything that relieved this horrible need couldn't be bad. Spock wanted, wanted so badly. And hadn't Kirk promised? Hadn't he said he would wait? Hadn't he-
"Jim! Sit down!" Kirk felt McCoy's hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down on the cot. "Don't make me restrain you."
Kirk groaned. "You may have to lock me up. Until we get to the Vulcan colonies, I cannot be allowed to see Spock, do you understand? You have the authority to stop me. The medical jurisdiction. Make sure I don't see him. Please."
"Jim..." McCoy sat down again in his stool next to the cot. "What's going on?"
"It's Spock's place to tell you, not mine," insisted Kirk. "If you can get it out of him, fine. Otherwise, I can't tell you."
"You are both completely incorrigible," McCoy huffed. "Fine. I'm ordering the medical confinement of both of you to your quarters. Your separate quarters. Until we reach the colonies. Satisfied?"
"Thank you Bones," said Kirk sincerely.
"Sure." McCoy didn't sound very pleased, but waved Kirk off. "So get on with it, then."
Kirk slid off the cot gratefully and made his way back to his quarters.
He had thought that sleep, at least, would allow him some reprieve from the constant presence of Spock's need. But sleep was slow to come, leaving him tossing and turning in a room that felt far too hot, even on his bare skin. And when it did come, it brought no relief.
"Spock?" Kirk knew he was dreaming, or at least was pretty sure. He was in a desert of some kind, it seemed, although nothing that looked like any earth desert he'd ever seen. The sand was a dull red color, with rocks jutting out here and there from the ground, sometimes a smooth walking surface, sometimes an angry-looking unscalable crag. He couldn't see Spock, but he knew the Vulcan was nearby because he could feel him.
He was naked, the desert oddly sweltering, although it was night. It was night, and yet Kirk could see perfectly, as though at high noon. The ambient light seemed to come from nowhere at all, reflecting off the rocks but doing nothing to obscure the millions and millions of stars overhead. Kirk stared at them, turning slowly, then nearly jumped out of his skin as he turned around and found Spock standing behind him, less than a foot away.
"Spock!" he yelped in surprise. The Vulcan's face was sorrowful, far more expression than its waking counterpart ever wore. He reached out a hand towards Kirk, but Kirk flinched away, taking several hurried steps backwards. "No," he yelled, although he was not sure what he was protesting. "No, Spock. We can't. We can't, Spock."
"Please..." Spock's voice was low and rough, and so full of need that Kirk collapsed to his knees under the weight of it, still shaking his head.
"We can't," he repeated weakly, even as Spock's hand stretched forward, reaching desperately for him.
"I need!" Spock groaned. "I need! Please! Please! Jim, I need..."
Kirk just continued shaking his head, unable to speak over the depth of grief and want. His body was shaking, terrified, as Spock's hand reached for him, reached closer. His terror grew as Spock's touch drew nearer, until finally the hand came to rest on his bare chest, over his heart, and it hurt, hurt like a hot brand against his skin, made him writhe in pain as the heat suffused him, invaded him.
And then Spock was no longer in front of him but behind him, his naked arms wrapped around Kirk's chest, tight like iron bands, bare chest flush against Kirk's back. Kirk struggled, tried to run, but he could only burn himself on Spock's flesh. Nothing was safe. The need was too strong. There was no escape. He needed. He needed!
Kirk woke up, painfully hard, and covered in a cold sweat. He only had to stroke himself twice before he came with a harsh, shuddering sob, feeling desperate and afraid.
The next several days only got worse. It didn't help that Kirk had nothing to occupy him. He was bored and restless, despite how little sleep he was getting, and desperate for Spock's company. Though how much of that last was real loneliness and how much of it was the pon farr reaching out towards him, Kirk couldn't tell. By the third day he was having a difficult time physically restraining himself from going over to Spock's room. Mid day on the third day, he gave in as much as he dared and used his computer to call Spock. He didn't dare come into real, physical proximity with the Vulcan, but he missed his friend desperately.
"I'm sorry," he said when Spock appeared on the viewscreen. "I know I shouldn't be. I need to get used to- but, I need-"
"I know," said Spock, cutting him off. He looked about as tired and harried as Kirk - really looked it, rather than just felt it. And that was frightening. "I understand. It is alright."
Kirk nodded distractedly. Of course Spock understood. Spock always understood.
Somehow, even in the midst of everything, it was remarkably easy to talk to Spock. At first they talked around the issue, revisiting old favorite topics of conversation, unhurried, enjoying each other's company. They circled the immediate concern, spiraling in towards it, drawing closer and closer as though pulled by an irresistible gravity. There was no need to talk about how they felt - that was clear enough. But gradually, they made their way to the subject of the impending wedding.
"So," said Kirk. "Tell me about the ceremony. What happens after I okay your bride?"
"I thought you said you'd already seen one?" Spock asked teasingly. Kirk was the only person that Spock ever teased. Kirk frowned at him. He was fairly certain that Spock knew exactly how he'd come by his information on pon farr, but out of respect, the Vulcan never mentioned it outright. And, true to form, he didn't wait for Kirk to answer his question before replying to Kirk's own.
"First, an elder, someone very skilled in the mind-meld, must verify the bond. Presumably ours will have been dissolved by then, so I will have to be very carefully bonded with the female. If we are not careful, then we might trigger the plak tow too early, and the ceremony cannot be completed. So, yes. The elder will touch my mind, verify that the bond is in place, and that I am indeed in pon farr. Then the female is given the opportunity to challenge. Presuming she does not, I will touch her mind. The psychic touch cements the marriage bond, completes it and transforms it into its mature form. The physical touch unleashes the plak tow, the blood fever and then..."
Kirk was breathing heavily. He could almost feel the thin, hot Vulcan air in his lungs. "And then?"
"Then we retire. Near my traditional family home, there was a small oasis next to the marriage grounds for this purpose. I do not know what the facilities are like on the colonies. I will stay with the female as long as necessary for the blood fever to pass. Usually several days."
"And what if she challenges?" asked Kirk, although he already knew. He liked to hear Spock speak the words though. It reassured him that Spock could tell him these things, even though he knew very well that outworlders were not permitted this knowledge.
"Except for the very few who've been involved," came the old memory.
"If she challenges, then I unleash the plak tow myself. She chooses her champion, and I must duel him to the death. If I win, then the marriage party guard escorts her to the retiring grounds, while I follow. It is not unknown for the male to be so caught up in the bloodlust of the plak tow that after the battle he attempts to consummate with the female on the battleground itself. The guard is there for the female's protection, until she reaches the proper place."
"Sounds dangerous for her," said Kirk quietly.
"It is. Vulcan women are bred to anticipate these dangers, however. They are prepared. They know how to soothe the madness, to allow it to ride its course without sustaining too much injury."
"Injury? Really?" asked Kirk, somewhat surprised. Vulcans were so peaceful; even knowing what he knew about the pon farr, it was difficult for him to imagine any one of them hurting someone they cared about.
"Though it is rare, there have been cases where the copulation after the first plak tow has led to the female's death," Spock confirmed, making Kirk's eyebrows rise considerably.
Kirk let out a low whistle. "I see why the female has to be carefully chosen," he said.
"This is also why Vulcan males can never marry other Vulcan males," Spock added, and Kirk blinked rapidly, caught somewhat off-guard. They were getting dangerously close to a subject that he wasn't sure he was ready to discuss. Nevertheless, he said, "Oh?"
Spock nodded. "If two males bond, then the pon farr in one will trigger the pon farr in the other by the strength of the bond. When the plak tow comes, they will rip each other apart. There has never been a successful marriage coupling of two Vulcan males without at least one being killed in the attempt."
Kirk could feel how that might happen. Though he knew that he himself had no pon farr to fall into, Spock's lust even before reaching the plak tow stage was taking its toll on the human. He could feel the overwhelming need almost as though it were his own, and he thought that if he felt this as strongly as Spock did, in addition to feeling Spock's need through the bond, and Spock feeling his, there would be nothing that could stop them from coming together, so strongly that the heat and pressure between them might swallow up the very universe.
Kirk swallowed, trying to force these images from his mind, knowing that Spock could feel everything - the bond had become extremely sensitive since Spock went into pon farr. The Vulcan watched him impassively, waiting for Kirk to get himself under control. Kirk did, eventually, with a great deal of effort.
"Spock..." he started, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. Couldn't bring himself to think it, because it was too much. He knew that one way or another, his life would be changing here, but he couldn't accept it. Not yet. It was too big, too monumental - even speaking of it would change everything, change everything so fundamentally that he wasn't sure he could handle it. So he let the question die before it started, and Spock allowed it.
"We should go to bed. It's getting late," said Kirk, although really, it was not so late at all.
Spock nodded, and though he could tell everything that Spock was feeling, Kirk could not tell what Spock was thinking, and for that he was glad. Because the soft regret and uncertainty that he could feel under the naked, throbbing need that was Spock at the moment was too painful. The softness, the unconditional acceptance of Jim's will, nearly broke his heart. Kirk turned off the viewscreen, cutting off the connection, and dropped his head into his hands.
"Jim," came McCoy's voice over the communicator. Jim scowled into his pillow. He definitely didn't want to wake up. Nope. There could be nothing good waiting for him.
"Mrgh," he responded, hoping the annoying voice would go away.
"Jim, get up," McCoy's voice insisted. "Admiral Komack is asking for you. He wants to know why you're not on course for Altair Six."
"Grurgh," said Kirk, hoping that McCoy would interpret something from that and give the Admiral an answer. But when McCoy prompted him to get up yet again, he managed enough actual vocal skills to ask, "Didn't you tell him I was sick?"
"Oh, I told him," said McCoy. "It's no good. He wants to talk to you."
Kirk swore under his breath. Ugh. Komack would insist. With some effort he levered himself out of bed, ran a hand through his hair, and sat down at his desk in front of the computer. Only when he'd asked Uhura to patch Komack through did he realize that he wasn't wearing a shirt. Oh well.
"Captain-" the admiral stopped short, apparently startled at Kirk's appearance, but recovered quickly. "Captain, I would like an explanation as to why you are not heading to Altair Six as ordered. This is a very important diplomatic engagement."
"I apologize, Admiral," said Kirk, his voice a bit hoarse. He'd been talking with Spock yesterday for hours. "My first officer and I have been stricken with a rare illness, and we are going to see a specialist on the Vulcan colonies for treatment."
"Yes, so your chief medical officer told me," said Admiral Komack, frowning.
'Then why did you ask me?' Kirk wanted to yell at him, but he carefully kept his composure. "I apologize for the delay, Admiral. We are making best speed, and I hope to be back at Altair before the festivities are over."
"See that you do," said Admiral Komack, his face still set in a scowl. "This is very important, Kirk. We need to send a clear message here. Everyone is watching; if we send a strong message now, it could have ripples clear to the Klingon empire."
"Yes Sir," said Kirk. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Spock was awake. Kirk's own activity probably woke him. It was already growing difficult to think again.
"Very well then," said the Admiral. He gave Kirk a strange, suspicious look. "Feel better," he finally said gruffly. "Komack out."
Kirk stared dumbly at the dark screen for a few seconds, and then hauled himself back into bed, lying on his stomach. Once again, the heat began to rise in his blood. Kirk groaned, and tried his best to ignore it.
The days passed unbearably slowly. Kirk was constantly aware of Spock now, at all times, whether he wanted to be or not. It was actually rather disturbing. He was quite impressed that Spock was still able to talk in his current state. But talk they did, every day. The presence of the other was the only thing capable of calming either of them.
As the date of their arrival grew nearer and nearer, Kirk's guilt grew accordingly, until finally, the day before they were supposed to set foot on the Vulcan colony of Remus, he finally plucked up the courage to ask.
"Spock are you..." he stared at the computer screen for a few moments, but Spock's expression was impassive, waiting for him to finish the question. "Are you disappointed? That I'm not going to marry you?"
Spock hesitated a moment before replying, but when he did, his voice was remarkably calm. "I have come to terms with the fact that you are human and I am Vulcan, Jim. You have emotional needs that I could never fulfill, despite our bond. I could not... take care of you, as you need. I have accepted this fact."
That wasn't a no, but Kirk didn't press him any further. He knew Spock could feel his guilt, and he could feel the Vulcan's sadness at their impending separation as well. They didn't really need words - there was nothing left to be said.
"I'm sorry," Kirk said anyway. "I know that doesn't mean much, but I'm sorry anyway. I'll miss you."
"I know," said Spock solemnly, staring into him.
Continue to Part 2
Fandom: Star Trek (new movie)
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Author: Kagedtiger
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Star Trek belongs to its owners, who are not me.
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for the movie and somewhat minor spoilers for "Amok Time."
Summary: Sequel to "Future Bliss." Two years later, the pon farr finally catches up with them. More notes under the cut.
Notes: First of all, a big thank you to the Vulcan Language Dictionary for the unfamiliar words I had to go and pick out myself. Secondly, the Memory Alpha archive's entry on pon farr says that in current Star Trek canon, female Vulcans also go into pon farr. I think this is stupid and directly contradicts the canon established in "Amok Time," so I'm ignoring it. So there. As far as I can tell, they only say so in the Enterprise series anyway, and I resent that series' need to over-sexualize T'Pol. So Enterprise can suck it. And finally, this story was originally going to be NC-17, but a graphic sex scene did not seem to fit with the tone of the rest of the story. If anyone really desperately misses the pon farr sex scene, I may be able to be persuaded to write it as a separate drabble. Let me know. And now, on with the fic.
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Two years was a long time to put something off, but somehow they managed to never mention it. It would occur to Kirk occasionally, especially in the times when the psychic bond with his first officer was particularly unpleasant or inconvenient, that they could always get it removed. But the thought always faded quickly, and time and again the bond proved itself more useful than inconvenient, a great asset in many situations, and so thoughts of ending it occurred only very rarely.
Kirk learned that there was a lot one could grow accustomed to. It no longer seemed even slightly strange to have Spock's presence constantly in the back of his mind. Their newfound awareness of one another made it easy to spend time together, and around their bond, whether because of or in spite of it, a friendship grew, real and honest, and cemented naturally what had been shoved on them artificially.
Kirk had grown so accustomed to the behavior of his first officer that almost nothing the Vulcan did could surprise him anymore. When it did, the surprise was always the greater for it. Which was why Kirk was nearly bowled off his feet when, after no more warning than a few days of vaguely nervous sensations from Spock, he entered the Vulcan's quarters only to hear Spock say quietly, "We need to end this now, my friend. Our time has run out."
It took Kirk only a matter of seconds to parse Spock's meaning. "You're going into pon farr. We need to get you back to the colonies."
Spock inclined his head in a nod. "As soon as possible."
"But..." Kirk did some quick calculations in his head. "At our current distance, it'll take us a week to get back."
"I know." Spock's eyes burned into his. "As soon as possible, Jim. We must hurry."
His eyes on Spock, Kirk made his way to the communications panel by the door and punched in the bridge. "Bridge, this is the captain. Mr. Chekov, plot a course for the Vulcan colonies, and lay in immediately at maximum warp. Whichever one's closest. Remus, preferably."
"But Captain," came the voice, "our orders-"
"I know," Kirk cut him off. "I'll clear it with Command later. Just lay in the course and get us there as quickly as possible. Kirk out." He took his hand off the panel and stood, watching his first officer. Spock was sitting in the middle of his bed, eyes closed once more, in a meditational position.
"Why did you wait?" Kirk asked. After two years of being bonded, he hardly needed to clarify his question for Spock to understand.
"I wasn't sure it was going to happen," said Spock serenely. "It should have happened sooner. I had hoped that my human blood might spare us this. But as you predicted, the ancient drives are too strong. There can be no more holding it back."
"I should've felt this." Kirk's voice was angry, but only because of the guilt he felt. He knew Spock could feel that guilt, and would not hold the anger against him. "Why didn't I?"
"I have been suppressing it to some extent. As best I could, at any rate. It is only now beginning to come on fully. No, Jim."
This last was because Kirk had started forward, intending to sit next to him on the bed. Kirk stopped, startled. In the past six months or so, he'd gotten used to extended physical contact, at least when they were alone. Whether conversing or just relaxing, it had become habit for the two of them to sit back to back, or side by side with their legs touching. Physical contact greatly strengthened the intensity of sensation in the bond, and having such an intimate awareness of each others' thoughts led to extremely easy and rewarding conversation. To have such contact taken from him now was hurtful to Kirk, and he frowned.
"If you touch me, Jim, there will be no stopping it," Spock explained. "I am already too far gone. You said once you did not wish to be my wife." His eyes opened, to impress his seriousness upon Kirk. "We must get used to this while we can. The lack of physical contact will be nothing to the dissolution of the bond. You must re-accustom yourself to being alone."
"What about you?" Kirk asked. He felt like a child, wanted to throw a temper tantrum and scream and cry and throw things. He didn't want to quietly give up the bond that had carried them through two years of missions, the bond that had let Spock know whenever Kirk was in trouble, and send help, the bond that had let him peer beneath the surface of his first officer, and read the emotions that no one else even knew existed, let alone could interpret.
"I will bond with whatever female is chosen for me upon my arrival. The marriage bond will form the instant we touch, and then the ceremony that consummates it will occur immediately afterwards. Jim..." Spock hesitated, and Kirk knew he wanted to ask something personal, an event that, even now, was rare and uncomfortable for Spock.
Kirk just waited, and eventually Spock said, "Would you ensure the choosing of a suitable mate for me? My father knows this will be happening, and no doubt has selected someone, but I will be in no condition to ensure that his choice will be appropriate for me. You know me better than anyone else. I know this choice will be a burden to you, but..."
"Of course, Spock," Kirk said, smiling. Once again he had to resist the urge step forward and touch Spock, lay a hand on his shoulder. "Of course I will."
"Thank you," said Spock simply. His eyes closed, and he returned to his meditational state. Kirk remained for a few minutes longer, watching him. Spock didn't really feel any different to Kirk, which surprised him. He would've thought the pon farr effect would be far more noticeable, given its strength. But if Spock said the time had come, Kirk trusted him.
"When the Time comes, I will await you."
Kirk felt his heart wrench. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to give up this bond. But he had to. He couldn't very well go and marry his first officer. That wouldn't do. That wouldn't do at all. And logically, he knew that this was the soundest decision, and that there would be a lot of benefits to ending the bond.
But Kirk had never been particularly logical, much to Spock's dismay and eventual fondness.
Kirk let himself out of Spock's room and made his way back towards his own cabin at a slow pace. He tried to think about the pros of dissolving the bond, to concentrate on them. Surely there were some.
Well, he'd be able to have sex again, for one. Nearly two years ago now, when Spock had broken off his relationship with Uhura to spare Kirk the pain and embarrassment of having to vicariously experience their sexual activities, it hadn't really occurred to Kirk that this meant that Kirk himself would also not be able to have sex.
He'd still tried to, at first. Within the following three months he'd had six different girls, unable to help himself. But each time the pain and reproach from Spock, the reminder of what he'd given up for Kirk's sake, left him with a terrible guilt afterwards. His encounters became fewer and far between, until, at the end of their first year together, they'd stopped entirely. In the two years since the bond, Kirk had had sex only nine times. Since he'd stopped seeing Uhura, Spock had had sex only two. And for one of them he'd been drugged.
So yeah. Sex would be nice. He missed sex. He really missed sex. But... but dammit, he'd had something better than sex! He'd had a companion, a constant presence, someone who understood him like no one else possibly could. And though Kirk wasn't sure he really wanted to admit it, the depth of the bond he had with Spock made the shallow physical encounters he'd had previously pale in comparison. They were... incidental. Meant nothing. The bond meant something. The bond was important, and now...
Kirk remembered how alone he'd felt when they'd last tried to separate the bond, only months after it had been formed. How lonely, like the only person in the entire world. How much stronger would the separation be now, after two years? Could he survive it? Well, supposedly the Vulcan Elders would know, anyway. But what if they couldn't separate the bond? What if it had grown too strong for them? Wouldn't it be all the stronger now that the pon farr was approaching?
For the first time in a long time, Kirk was genuinely afraid. No matter what happened, something big and fundamental was about to change in his life. He could only hope he was prepared.
Spock resumed his duties that afternoon at the beginning of his shift as though nothing had happened. Things proceeded as usual, the crew functioning with their usual speed and efficiency. Kirk and Spock made a special effort to stand a reasonable distance away from each other, so that they would not accidentally touch. When they went off shift, things were still more or less normal, although a little more tense than usual. Kirk had some difficulty falling asleep, but not for too long.
By the time their shift came up the following morning, however, there was not even a hope of normalcy. Kirk sat in the captain's chair, feeling as though the surface of his skin was tingling all over.
Doctor McCoy stepped off the lift, preoccupied by some paperwork on a clipboard in front of him. When he looked up, his expression changed to one of puzzlement. "Where's Spock?" he asked. "It's time for his scheduled physical."
"I've confined him to quarters," said Kirk. It was difficult for him to concentrate on what other people were saying, but he could manage with some effort.
"Confined? Why?" asked the doctor.
Kirk was at something of a loss. He couldn't exactly cite medical reasons. It would be very bad indeed if McCoy tried to examine Spock. Dimly, a memory not his reminded him,
"You will cease to pry into my personal affairs, Doctor, or I shall certainly break your neck."
No. McCoy should not be examining Spock. "Vulcan holiday," Kirk invented instead. "Very important day of- week of rest. He must remain cloistered for it."
McCoy raised an eyebrow at him, very obviously not buying it. "He didn't take any leave last year."
"Yes, well," said Kirk. "He converted. Found religion. It was very sudden. Just- nevermind."
"Uh... huh..." said McCoy slowly. "Alright then. You let him know that whenever he's done communing with the void or whatever, he should see me in sickbay. He owes me a physical to keep his medical records up to date."
"Will do, Bones," Kirk assured, relieved that the doctor wasn't going to continue to press questions on him. "Sure. I'll let him know."
McCoy frowned at him. "You don't look so hot either. Why don't you come and see me at the end of your shift."
Kirk nodded, wishing McCoy would just leave already. "Sure, yeah. Okay."
McCoy gave him one last suspicious look, before heading out the way he came.
"You have a bit of a fever," McCoy told him later with a frown as he let Kirk up from the sickbay cot. "Maybe you should stay here overnight for observation."
"I'm fine, Bones," said Kirk. Spock was meditating again, which meant Kirk was very nearly capable of holding a civil conversation once more. "I'm just a little... stressed, is all."
"Yeah, well, if this stress keeps up much longer, I may be forced to take you off duty. Spock can come up out of his sacred voodoo to take over for a day."
"No!" said Kirk, panicked, and then winced as he realized how that must have sounded.
McCoy sighed. "Jim, I think it's time you level with me. What in the moons of Jupiter is going on?"
Kirk echoed the sigh, pressing his hands together between his knees. The pressure of Spock's pon farr had gotten steadily worse over the course of the day, making it harder and harder for Kirk to concentrate on anything except the Vulcan's desperate, seeking need. McCoy was probably right. Even if Kirk was fit to command now, he wouldn't be in the next few days. And if it was this bad for him, how bad must it be for Spock, at the source? How terrible the heat, the need, the-
"Jim."
Kirk realized that he had started to stand up, intending to go to Spock's room. It wasn't the first time he'd caught himself on the verge of doing that today. He sat down again.
"Bones, I don't know what to... how to..." Kirk rubbed his temples. "You're right. I should probably go off duty for a few days. But Spock can't take over. He's in no condition for it."
"He's sick?" asked McCoy sharply. "Jim, you should've told me. I should go examine-"
"No," said Kirk firmly. "We know what's wrong, and it's nothing you can fix. It's nothing he can spread, or anything, only-" Kirk swallowed. "It can spread to me, I can't explain why, but I'm getting sort of... secondary symptoms, to what he has. I can't go near him for the next few days. If I do, I'll catch it, and that would be... that would be... bad..." Would it? He was becoming less and less sure. Surely anything that relieved this horrible need couldn't be bad. Spock wanted, wanted so badly. And hadn't Kirk promised? Hadn't he said he would wait? Hadn't he-
"Jim! Sit down!" Kirk felt McCoy's hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down on the cot. "Don't make me restrain you."
Kirk groaned. "You may have to lock me up. Until we get to the Vulcan colonies, I cannot be allowed to see Spock, do you understand? You have the authority to stop me. The medical jurisdiction. Make sure I don't see him. Please."
"Jim..." McCoy sat down again in his stool next to the cot. "What's going on?"
"It's Spock's place to tell you, not mine," insisted Kirk. "If you can get it out of him, fine. Otherwise, I can't tell you."
"You are both completely incorrigible," McCoy huffed. "Fine. I'm ordering the medical confinement of both of you to your quarters. Your separate quarters. Until we reach the colonies. Satisfied?"
"Thank you Bones," said Kirk sincerely.
"Sure." McCoy didn't sound very pleased, but waved Kirk off. "So get on with it, then."
Kirk slid off the cot gratefully and made his way back to his quarters.
He had thought that sleep, at least, would allow him some reprieve from the constant presence of Spock's need. But sleep was slow to come, leaving him tossing and turning in a room that felt far too hot, even on his bare skin. And when it did come, it brought no relief.
"Spock?" Kirk knew he was dreaming, or at least was pretty sure. He was in a desert of some kind, it seemed, although nothing that looked like any earth desert he'd ever seen. The sand was a dull red color, with rocks jutting out here and there from the ground, sometimes a smooth walking surface, sometimes an angry-looking unscalable crag. He couldn't see Spock, but he knew the Vulcan was nearby because he could feel him.
He was naked, the desert oddly sweltering, although it was night. It was night, and yet Kirk could see perfectly, as though at high noon. The ambient light seemed to come from nowhere at all, reflecting off the rocks but doing nothing to obscure the millions and millions of stars overhead. Kirk stared at them, turning slowly, then nearly jumped out of his skin as he turned around and found Spock standing behind him, less than a foot away.
"Spock!" he yelped in surprise. The Vulcan's face was sorrowful, far more expression than its waking counterpart ever wore. He reached out a hand towards Kirk, but Kirk flinched away, taking several hurried steps backwards. "No," he yelled, although he was not sure what he was protesting. "No, Spock. We can't. We can't, Spock."
"Please..." Spock's voice was low and rough, and so full of need that Kirk collapsed to his knees under the weight of it, still shaking his head.
"We can't," he repeated weakly, even as Spock's hand stretched forward, reaching desperately for him.
"I need!" Spock groaned. "I need! Please! Please! Jim, I need..."
Kirk just continued shaking his head, unable to speak over the depth of grief and want. His body was shaking, terrified, as Spock's hand reached for him, reached closer. His terror grew as Spock's touch drew nearer, until finally the hand came to rest on his bare chest, over his heart, and it hurt, hurt like a hot brand against his skin, made him writhe in pain as the heat suffused him, invaded him.
And then Spock was no longer in front of him but behind him, his naked arms wrapped around Kirk's chest, tight like iron bands, bare chest flush against Kirk's back. Kirk struggled, tried to run, but he could only burn himself on Spock's flesh. Nothing was safe. The need was too strong. There was no escape. He needed. He needed!
Kirk woke up, painfully hard, and covered in a cold sweat. He only had to stroke himself twice before he came with a harsh, shuddering sob, feeling desperate and afraid.
The next several days only got worse. It didn't help that Kirk had nothing to occupy him. He was bored and restless, despite how little sleep he was getting, and desperate for Spock's company. Though how much of that last was real loneliness and how much of it was the pon farr reaching out towards him, Kirk couldn't tell. By the third day he was having a difficult time physically restraining himself from going over to Spock's room. Mid day on the third day, he gave in as much as he dared and used his computer to call Spock. He didn't dare come into real, physical proximity with the Vulcan, but he missed his friend desperately.
"I'm sorry," he said when Spock appeared on the viewscreen. "I know I shouldn't be. I need to get used to- but, I need-"
"I know," said Spock, cutting him off. He looked about as tired and harried as Kirk - really looked it, rather than just felt it. And that was frightening. "I understand. It is alright."
Kirk nodded distractedly. Of course Spock understood. Spock always understood.
Somehow, even in the midst of everything, it was remarkably easy to talk to Spock. At first they talked around the issue, revisiting old favorite topics of conversation, unhurried, enjoying each other's company. They circled the immediate concern, spiraling in towards it, drawing closer and closer as though pulled by an irresistible gravity. There was no need to talk about how they felt - that was clear enough. But gradually, they made their way to the subject of the impending wedding.
"So," said Kirk. "Tell me about the ceremony. What happens after I okay your bride?"
"I thought you said you'd already seen one?" Spock asked teasingly. Kirk was the only person that Spock ever teased. Kirk frowned at him. He was fairly certain that Spock knew exactly how he'd come by his information on pon farr, but out of respect, the Vulcan never mentioned it outright. And, true to form, he didn't wait for Kirk to answer his question before replying to Kirk's own.
"First, an elder, someone very skilled in the mind-meld, must verify the bond. Presumably ours will have been dissolved by then, so I will have to be very carefully bonded with the female. If we are not careful, then we might trigger the plak tow too early, and the ceremony cannot be completed. So, yes. The elder will touch my mind, verify that the bond is in place, and that I am indeed in pon farr. Then the female is given the opportunity to challenge. Presuming she does not, I will touch her mind. The psychic touch cements the marriage bond, completes it and transforms it into its mature form. The physical touch unleashes the plak tow, the blood fever and then..."
Kirk was breathing heavily. He could almost feel the thin, hot Vulcan air in his lungs. "And then?"
"Then we retire. Near my traditional family home, there was a small oasis next to the marriage grounds for this purpose. I do not know what the facilities are like on the colonies. I will stay with the female as long as necessary for the blood fever to pass. Usually several days."
"And what if she challenges?" asked Kirk, although he already knew. He liked to hear Spock speak the words though. It reassured him that Spock could tell him these things, even though he knew very well that outworlders were not permitted this knowledge.
"Except for the very few who've been involved," came the old memory.
"If she challenges, then I unleash the plak tow myself. She chooses her champion, and I must duel him to the death. If I win, then the marriage party guard escorts her to the retiring grounds, while I follow. It is not unknown for the male to be so caught up in the bloodlust of the plak tow that after the battle he attempts to consummate with the female on the battleground itself. The guard is there for the female's protection, until she reaches the proper place."
"Sounds dangerous for her," said Kirk quietly.
"It is. Vulcan women are bred to anticipate these dangers, however. They are prepared. They know how to soothe the madness, to allow it to ride its course without sustaining too much injury."
"Injury? Really?" asked Kirk, somewhat surprised. Vulcans were so peaceful; even knowing what he knew about the pon farr, it was difficult for him to imagine any one of them hurting someone they cared about.
"Though it is rare, there have been cases where the copulation after the first plak tow has led to the female's death," Spock confirmed, making Kirk's eyebrows rise considerably.
Kirk let out a low whistle. "I see why the female has to be carefully chosen," he said.
"This is also why Vulcan males can never marry other Vulcan males," Spock added, and Kirk blinked rapidly, caught somewhat off-guard. They were getting dangerously close to a subject that he wasn't sure he was ready to discuss. Nevertheless, he said, "Oh?"
Spock nodded. "If two males bond, then the pon farr in one will trigger the pon farr in the other by the strength of the bond. When the plak tow comes, they will rip each other apart. There has never been a successful marriage coupling of two Vulcan males without at least one being killed in the attempt."
Kirk could feel how that might happen. Though he knew that he himself had no pon farr to fall into, Spock's lust even before reaching the plak tow stage was taking its toll on the human. He could feel the overwhelming need almost as though it were his own, and he thought that if he felt this as strongly as Spock did, in addition to feeling Spock's need through the bond, and Spock feeling his, there would be nothing that could stop them from coming together, so strongly that the heat and pressure between them might swallow up the very universe.
Kirk swallowed, trying to force these images from his mind, knowing that Spock could feel everything - the bond had become extremely sensitive since Spock went into pon farr. The Vulcan watched him impassively, waiting for Kirk to get himself under control. Kirk did, eventually, with a great deal of effort.
"Spock..." he started, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. Couldn't bring himself to think it, because it was too much. He knew that one way or another, his life would be changing here, but he couldn't accept it. Not yet. It was too big, too monumental - even speaking of it would change everything, change everything so fundamentally that he wasn't sure he could handle it. So he let the question die before it started, and Spock allowed it.
"We should go to bed. It's getting late," said Kirk, although really, it was not so late at all.
Spock nodded, and though he could tell everything that Spock was feeling, Kirk could not tell what Spock was thinking, and for that he was glad. Because the soft regret and uncertainty that he could feel under the naked, throbbing need that was Spock at the moment was too painful. The softness, the unconditional acceptance of Jim's will, nearly broke his heart. Kirk turned off the viewscreen, cutting off the connection, and dropped his head into his hands.
"Jim," came McCoy's voice over the communicator. Jim scowled into his pillow. He definitely didn't want to wake up. Nope. There could be nothing good waiting for him.
"Mrgh," he responded, hoping the annoying voice would go away.
"Jim, get up," McCoy's voice insisted. "Admiral Komack is asking for you. He wants to know why you're not on course for Altair Six."
"Grurgh," said Kirk, hoping that McCoy would interpret something from that and give the Admiral an answer. But when McCoy prompted him to get up yet again, he managed enough actual vocal skills to ask, "Didn't you tell him I was sick?"
"Oh, I told him," said McCoy. "It's no good. He wants to talk to you."
Kirk swore under his breath. Ugh. Komack would insist. With some effort he levered himself out of bed, ran a hand through his hair, and sat down at his desk in front of the computer. Only when he'd asked Uhura to patch Komack through did he realize that he wasn't wearing a shirt. Oh well.
"Captain-" the admiral stopped short, apparently startled at Kirk's appearance, but recovered quickly. "Captain, I would like an explanation as to why you are not heading to Altair Six as ordered. This is a very important diplomatic engagement."
"I apologize, Admiral," said Kirk, his voice a bit hoarse. He'd been talking with Spock yesterday for hours. "My first officer and I have been stricken with a rare illness, and we are going to see a specialist on the Vulcan colonies for treatment."
"Yes, so your chief medical officer told me," said Admiral Komack, frowning.
'Then why did you ask me?' Kirk wanted to yell at him, but he carefully kept his composure. "I apologize for the delay, Admiral. We are making best speed, and I hope to be back at Altair before the festivities are over."
"See that you do," said Admiral Komack, his face still set in a scowl. "This is very important, Kirk. We need to send a clear message here. Everyone is watching; if we send a strong message now, it could have ripples clear to the Klingon empire."
"Yes Sir," said Kirk. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Spock was awake. Kirk's own activity probably woke him. It was already growing difficult to think again.
"Very well then," said the Admiral. He gave Kirk a strange, suspicious look. "Feel better," he finally said gruffly. "Komack out."
Kirk stared dumbly at the dark screen for a few seconds, and then hauled himself back into bed, lying on his stomach. Once again, the heat began to rise in his blood. Kirk groaned, and tried his best to ignore it.
The days passed unbearably slowly. Kirk was constantly aware of Spock now, at all times, whether he wanted to be or not. It was actually rather disturbing. He was quite impressed that Spock was still able to talk in his current state. But talk they did, every day. The presence of the other was the only thing capable of calming either of them.
As the date of their arrival grew nearer and nearer, Kirk's guilt grew accordingly, until finally, the day before they were supposed to set foot on the Vulcan colony of Remus, he finally plucked up the courage to ask.
"Spock are you..." he stared at the computer screen for a few moments, but Spock's expression was impassive, waiting for him to finish the question. "Are you disappointed? That I'm not going to marry you?"
Spock hesitated a moment before replying, but when he did, his voice was remarkably calm. "I have come to terms with the fact that you are human and I am Vulcan, Jim. You have emotional needs that I could never fulfill, despite our bond. I could not... take care of you, as you need. I have accepted this fact."
That wasn't a no, but Kirk didn't press him any further. He knew Spock could feel his guilt, and he could feel the Vulcan's sadness at their impending separation as well. They didn't really need words - there was nothing left to be said.
"I'm sorry," Kirk said anyway. "I know that doesn't mean much, but I'm sorry anyway. I'll miss you."
"I know," said Spock solemnly, staring into him.
Continue to Part 2