CITS-ch5-8

Chapter 5 - Circles in the Sand

In these last days, Jim had been asked to believe things that tested his powers of imagination to the limits. This was no different. Uhura's message had sounded quite optimistic regarding Sarek's plan. But the losses that he had recently suffered allowed very little room for hope at this point.

He had held Spock in his arms, felt the warmth of his skin, felt his chest expand and contract as breaths repeatedly filled his lungs. Yet, even with that, he had not allowed himself to expect anything other than their initial goal. Maybe it was because to hope for anything more was to open himself up to more pain in the event of failure. More likely was the fact that after David's death, Jim was finding it hard to connect with his feelings at all. He glanced toward Leonard. Whereas it seemed the doctor had begun to regain a part of himself that had been lost with Spock's death, Jim was experiencing that numb sensation of denial. Looking at Bones, he thought that perhaps they had all but traded places on this journey.

Pavel came toward them, bringing his thoughts back to the present. "Sair, Lieutenant Saavik and I have released the Klingon to the hands of Vulcan security. They will transport him to a Federation holding facility."

"Thank you, Commander. That's one person I hope to never see again." The principal player in this latest fiasco, Kruge, had fittingly died on the planet along with his son. Even though Jim offered the Klingon captain an opportunity for life, he had shed no tears over his death. Neither would he regret whatever action the Federation decided was fitting for their prisoner, Maltz, the sole survivor of the Bird of Prey.

When they were advised that all was ready, he couldn't help but notice Bones looking up to where Sarek waited for them. As the procession of Vulcans began their ascent up the mountainside, Jim and his crew followed them up the ancient, stone steps. It took several minutes to make their way up the long, winding path. After all they had been through, and now experiencing the thinness of the air and the heavier gravity on Vulcan, it felt good to finally reach the towering dome that sat at the peak of the mountain.

Inside the structure, there were additional attendants waiting for them. Cool cloths that had been anointed with a fragrant liquid were handed to each and, following Saavik's lead, they used them to cool their faces and sponge their hands. Jim winced when he rubbed across the deep bruises on his cheek and the cut above his eye, an aftermath of the battle that had ensued between him and Kruge on the Genesis planet. But he didn't mind the pain. It was the only thing that made these last days seem real and not some farfetched nightmare.

Each person was handed a delicately thin glass filled with a native juice. Jim found it a little sweet, but he nonetheless appreciated the feel of the cool liquid as it slid down his parched throat. The hover-cart that held Spock's body was brought to a large pedestal centered in the middle of the room, placed across it, and powered down to allow it to settle on the stand. Only Jim and McCoy remained close when the women began to prepare Spock. The rest of the crew turned and moved away in uncomfortable silence when they removed first the blanket and then the robe from him. Only a thin strip of material kept him from being completely nude.

A nauseating feeling kept creeping up Jim's throat as they stood together and watched the body being bathed and oiled. It was too similar to the very acts that he and Bones had carried out just over a week before. But then there had been patches burned deep into the skin; this time all signs of the radiation burns were gone. Watching carefully, he could see Spock's chest was moving in gentle rises and falls--the only indication that, unlike a week before, there was life beneath the stillness.

Bones was standing at his shoulder and Jim glanced over at him. But McCoy wasn't paying attention to what was happening with Spock. Instead, his eyes were staring straight ahead, across Spock's body. Jim thought that perhaps the doctor's mind was less on the appearance of their former bondmate, and more on what would soon be taking place. As the women continued to massage oil onto Spock's body, Jim looked out in the direction where Bones was staring, and he saw what was holding the doctor's undivided attention. Sarek was approaching from an archway opposite the one they had been brought through. As the regal Vulcan drew closer, he could almost feel Bones tense up.

Sarek walked to the pedestal where Spock lay. Gently, he laid his hand on the meld points of his son, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. His eyes opened, and Jim had to look away. The pained expression told him all he needed to know. Sarek dropped his hand and walked toward where they were standing, coming to rest immediately beside them. Jim turned his eyes briefly in Sarek's direction. "Kirk," Sarek greeted him.

"Sarek," Jim replied.

"I understand your voyage was a difficult one. I wish to express..."

"Please, Sarek, not now," Jim interrupted and turned his eyes back to Spock. He was a man walking a tightrope of fire. If he didn't keep his mind focused on each moment, if he let the events of these last days seep in, he would be lost.

Sarek turned his attention to the man standing beside Kirk. "Leonard..." he said in a voice that was less than steady.

Hearing the tone in Sarek's voice, Jim turned his attention from the ritual massage being administered to Spock to the men standing beside him. For lack of a better term, their eyes were locked together. Ice blue meeting brown, and Jim could almost feel the emotion sparking between them.

"Sarek," Bones whispered. For a moment they just stood there, drinking in the presence of the other. Jim was certain that Bones hadn't drawn a breath since whispering the name. He was convinced that had they been alone, they would have already been in each other's arms, and it cut through him like a hot knife. The emotional electricity between the two men was very real. Others standing about were drawn to turn from the quiet conversations they were involved in to watch them. In the large stone room, where even quiet whispers seemed to take on a life of their own, a hushed silence descended.

As if suddenly realizing they were not alone, Sarek broke the gaze between them and looked back toward Kirk. The look in those dark eyes left no doubt about the feelings Sarek still held for McCoy. "The Vulcan acolytes are preparing Spock for the ritual. We will be ready to begin shortly," Sarek explained.

"Vulcan acolytes? How quaint." Jim knew his tone was condescending. His mind could not help but go back to the evening in his apartment. Even though Sarek had promised Jim that he would do nothing to interfere, he knew once this was over, nothing was going to keep McCoy and Sarek apart.

"Yes, Admiral. They are Vulcan females who dedicate themselves to a life of service to the High Priestess of Gol," Sarek replied, seemingly ignoring Jim's tone. Jim decided it was probably for the best. This wasn't exactly the best place for a showdown over Bones.

Jim turned his attention back to Spock. "Will he be himself once this is over?" he asked. He had only fooled himself. He did want this to work, to have the man he had shared his life with these last years back. Both men. And by the looks of it, he had a fight on his hands where Bones was concerned. But for now, he was just too tired to fight.

"Unknown, Admiral. There are no assurances of success."

"And if it fails?" Jim asked, but he already knew the answer. If this failed, Spock would never remember all they had been to each other.

"Then his body cannot survive."

Jim snapped his head toward Sarek. "Can't survive? Why? Why can't he just be retrained? It's been done before. Many years ago, Commander Uhura had to go through retraining when her memory was stripped away. Why can't that be done with Spock?"

"Admiral, Commander Uhura is not Vulcan. The katra is more than just a collection of memories. It is the very essence of his soul. All that he is, all that he is capable of, both mentally and physically, are locked in this part which McCoy now holds. If restoration is not achieved, then his autonomic functions will continue to fail. In a matter of days, he will die."

Kirk felt his shoulders steel against Sarek's words. Sarek's dark eyes told of a man who fully understood all Jim had lost to bring them to this point. They were also telling him that there was a great probability that his losses were not yet finished. But Jim couldn't allow himself to acknowledge those possibilities, not yet. To do so, would require him to call upon emotions that he no longer had the ability to deal with. It felt like his very spirit had been crushed under the weight of all that had transpired. As if a black hole had formed inside him and it was lying in wait to draw his emotions into the swirling, impenetrable mass, allowing no possibility for release. When Sarek's eyes finally left him, Jim felt himself breathe a sigh of relief.

It seemed as if Sarek's initial reaction to Bones had abated. He turned back to McCoy and stated, "As the keeper of the katra, I need to explain all that I understand regarding the events that may take place. We have only a short time. Will you walk with me?" he asked Leonard.

McCoy looked quickly at Jim, never fully meeting his eyes, and then toward Spock. "Certainly," he responded, and took a few steps toward Sarek.

Jim watched them as they walked through the archway where Sarek had emerged just minutes before. Was it only his imagination, or did the two of them really fall into step with one another so easily?

*****************

Seeing Leonard for the first time since leaving him on the Deltan Station, weeks before, had tested Sarek's controls beyond anything that he had expected. As he walked beside Leonard, he perceived within himself the strong urge to reach for him. To keep himself from doing so, he clasped his hands firmly behind his back as they left the others behind. Sarek led McCoy down the large stone path until it opened up to a broad expanse that was nestled between the mountain peaks. It was here where they stopped and he turned, stiffly, toward Leonard.

"In the event that my appeal is deemed logical, I need tell you what will transpire," Sarek began. He heard the coldness in his voice as he spoke, and realized that he was trying to overcompensate for those emotions which were struggling to surface.

"Sarek, there's no need. That part of me which is your son knows what to expect. At least, as much as anyone can know what to expect from a ritual that hasn't been performed in modern times."

Taken aback, Sarek replied, this time his voice revealed more compassion than before. "You feel him that strongly? Is this presence a consciousness, or simply his memories?"

Leonard leaned against the rock wall behind him, looked at Sarek, and smiled gently. It nearly stole Sarek's breath. "To tell you the truth, I'm not sure. It's tough to explain anything about these last days. When it first started, I didn't understand it at all. Had no idea what was happening to me, and I really did think I was losin' my mind. I started remembering things that I knew I'd never experienced, things that he'd never shared with me, instincts that come without conscious thought. Even now, I can't tell you how much of what's goin' on in my head is me, and how much is Spock."

Leonard looked away, and Sarek wondered if he was going to continue. "Explain," Sarek finally said, but the man standing with him was affecting him deeply, and what he intended to sound like a command, came out as no more than a whisper.

Leonard looked back at him and nodded his head, thoughtfully. "Since I was initially bonded to Spock as a sko'tan, we've had to use deep melds to join our thoughts over the years. Therefore, our thoughts have become so deeply entwined with the many melds we've shared, that it's difficult to know just where I begin and he ends. Remember when we were on Bakswana-7, and I began to sense them? You speculated that because of the many melds, my link to Spock had deepened to that of a full bondmate. You were right, you know. Anyway, to answer your question, yes, in some form, he lives within me. We both...exist. It's...a fascinating experience. But I've gotta admit, it'll be nice to have his memories back where they belong." Leonard's smile widened, and Sarek discerned a most illogical sensation, as if the air around them was growing thinner.

"You seem to have gained some measure of comfort from this experience," Sarek stated.

"Comfort? I don't know if you could call it that. But there's just somethin' about being here..." Leonard's eyes swept their surroundings before he looked back at Sarek. "All of this seems familiar. It's as if everything just feels right at this moment. Although I've never been to this place before, it feels like I've come home. I know that doesn't make any sense." McCoy looked down and Sarek noticed a flush that tinged the doctor's skin.

Oh, how well he had come to know this man. Sarek knew that this reaction was indicative of McCoy becoming embarrassed. At times like this he was so vulnerable. So human. Sarek wished he could reach out for him, take him in his arms and change that flush of embarrassment to a flush of a different kind. The kind that made those bright blue eyes become dark with passion. But he refrained. Instead, he attempted to soothe the man with his words. "Your reaction is understandable. This is where Spock's katra was calling to you to bring it. This is where peace is found."

Leonard looked back up at him. "Yeah, I think I understand that. Whatever it is, it's working. And it will be nice when this is over."

"Leonard, there is no certainty. The process of separating your thoughts will be most difficult. There is a possibility..."

"Sarek, I understand." McCoy reached out his hand and laid it on Sarek's bicep, just beneath the shoulder. Although the touch was a light one, it was as if the heat from McCoy's hand penetrated the heavy material of his sleeve and permeated deep into his soul. "I do have one request of you," McCoy breathed.

"You only need to ask," Sarek stated. His voice was growing rough and he mentally berated himself for allowing his desires to become so obvious.

"Please, if something should happen...be there for Jim?"

Sarek nodded. Only when he was certain that he could trust his voice, did he reply. "I will do all in my power to comply with your request. And, if you wish, I will be at your side when you are ready." The need to sweep McCoy into his arms was becoming intense, but both Amanda's angry words--perhaps striking closer to the truth than he had been willing to admit--and his promise to Kirk, rang strong within him. He started to turn back toward the entry to the hall when he felt the hand tighten around his arm. It stopped him, and he turned back toward Leonard.

"Sarek..." McCoy breathed.

The Vulcan felt the hand as it slid up his arm and to the back of his neck. Sarek reached out and traced the shape of the face before him with just the barest touch. He ran his thumb across the soft lips and watched as they parted slightly and trembled. He, too, was trembling. The hand at the back of his neck gently pulled them together as McCoy's other arm slid around him. Sarek did not--could not--resist. Instead, his hands went to the smaller man's waist as they came together. At first, it was a mere brush of the lips against each other's, not an actual kiss, but that did not diminish the intensity that seemed to pass between them. As the kiss deepened, and the arms drew them tighter together, Sarek knew that he could easily fall into the very soul of this man.

The kiss ended, and Sarek could feel the warm breath against his head when Leonard moved his lips to his ear, and whispered, "Thank you. Whatever happens, I need for you to know that being here, in this place--with you--is the first complete happiness I've felt since, well...since this whole mess started."

Sarek pulled away slightly so he could look at the azure-eyed man in his arms. "Yes, Leonard, I understand. Perhaps more than you know."

Leonard nodded. They separated and turned back to the archway.

Chapter 6

As he and Sarek moved to rejoin the others, Leonard found that their arrival was well timed. Their entrance was greeted by the sound of an approaching procession. The Vulcans all bowed their heads in respect for the woman who was being carried up the path in a chair that was hoisted on the shoulders of four Vulcan males. After she passed, the guards signaled for the procession to begin. Spock, now fully prepared and covered again with the blanket, was led out on the hover-cart with the Vulcan acolytes at his side. Sarek followed Spock, with Jim and Leonard immediately behind him. The rest of the entourage followed.

There was a throbbing that sounded in Leonard's ears as they descended the path. For a moment, he thought it was only the rush of his own pulse pounding inside his head. But then he realized there was another sound in tune with his heartbeats--a pealing of low gongs--the residual echoes from them resounding off of the sides of the surrounding mountains. The beating sounds seemed to be in time with the hard thumping taking place in his chest. Even knowing that this was where he had to be, where Spock's soul had cried out to be brought to, wasn't enough to keep butterflies the size of Deneubian bats from doing a mating dance in his stomach.

The entourage they followed descended one set of steps, but when it reached the steps leading to the massive altar, Vulcan guards stopped all others from approaching with a wicked looking weapon. Leonard knew damned well that Jim had felt the effectiveness of Vulcan weaponry in the past, and hoped that he knew better than to challenge the guard. McCoy breathed a sigh of relief when Jim backed up a step and gave the guard a 'You only have to ask!' look, as the weapon was brought down in front of him. He had enough to worry about right now without having to put Jim back together.

Having the guards stationed between them and the altar, prodded the group to cluster on the plateau located between the sets of steps. The former crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise formed a tight assemblage to watch the proceedings. Turning their attention toward the actions taking place above, McCoy watched as T'Lar stretched out her fingers and laid them on Spock's face. Leonard felt like Spock's presence was close to him. That which was both of them, was acutely aware of all that was transpiring. 'Help me get through this, Spock,' Leonard thought.

Whether it was wishful thinking, or Spock actually speaking to him, he wasn't sure, but he felt sure that he heard, 'I am here. You have brought me home. We will succeed, my t'hy'la.'

T'Lar's voice rang out, splitting the somber, silent mood that had descended upon those who had gathered below. The vibrations from her tone reverberated through McCoy, shaking him to his very core. Glancing about, it seemed from the wide-eyed expressions on the faces of his fellow crewmembers, their reaction had been very nearly the same. "Sarek, child of Skon, child of Solkar, the body of your son breathes still. What is your wish?"

Without hesitation, Sarek spoke loud and clear. On some level, Leonard understood that if Sarek were not assertive, T'Lar would deny his request. "I ask for fal-tor-pan, the refusion."

"What you seek has not been done since ages past, and then only in legend. Your request is not logical."

Leonard looked between the two Vulcans, and glanced at Jim. They could not have come this far to be denied.

"Forgive me, T'Lar. My logic is uncertain where my son is concerned."

Something told Leonard that within the Vulcan culture, this admission was as grave as any that could be made. He understood that for a man in Sarek's position, should his request be denied, it could mean shunning and admonition. Now, it was her decision to judge his worthiness, and decide whether this ritual would proceed.

McCoy held his breath and watched as she looked upon Sarek, her expression never changing. It was only when she asked, "Who is the keeper of the katra?" that he breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed her decision had been made.

Leonard felt himself jolted to action by her words. He took a step forward, and in a voice that began shaky but finished strong, he said, "I am. McCoy, Leonard H., son of David."

"McCoy, son of David, since thou art human, we cannot expect thee to understand fully what Sarek has requested. Spock's body lives. With your approval, we shall use all our powers to return to his body that which you possess. But McCoy, you must now be warned; the danger to thyself is as grave as the danger to Spock. You must make the choice."

Sarek had told them that if this failed, Spock's body could not survive. As a physician, he understood all too well that the brain controlled all bodily functions. He had only just this day realized how deeply Spock's katra was imbedded into his mind. Spock needed what he held to not only remember, but to thrive. And if Sarek was right, then his own survival could be in jeopardy if anything happened to destroy those centers of his brain. It was the first time it really hit him of the possibility that they both could die. He could feel Jim's eyes riveted on him. He knew that if this were not successful, Jim, who had already lost so much, would lose the last person he had ever dared to love. But this was Spock, their friend, their lover, and the man to whom they had once stood on this same planet and bonded themselves to. Whatever the cost, he had to try.

And, just weeks before, had he not given Sarek his solemn oath that if he could ever be there for him, he would choose to do whatever was requested of him? "I choose the danger," he responded. He glanced to Jim, the hazel eyes questioning his decision. "Helluva time to ask!" he heard himself grumbled in true, 'Bones McCoy,' fashion.

Sarek turned to him, and in the look that flashed between them, Leonard knew that to ask this kind of sacrifice was something the Vulcan had never expected. Extending his hand, Sarek indicated that it was time for Leonard to proceed to the altar.

McCoy flashed one last glance at Jim before following Sarek's instruction. There was so much he wanted to say; declarations, explanations, justifications, rationalizations, but there was no time. And, in reality, wasn't that what they had spent the last eleven years doing? What could be said that hadn't been said between them before?

As promised, Sarek walked with him to the foot of the stairs where two of the Vulcan acolytes came to meet them. They ushered McCoy to the stone foundation and indicated that he was to lie down upon it. The coolness of the stone felt good against the heated air that surrounded him. He felt the foundation being moved into position, and he heard words that should have been foreign to him, yet he was vaguely aware of their meaning.

T'Lar was calling on the ancient ones for guidance. The nervousness he felt melted away as she placed her warm fingers against his skin. With an ease he did not know was possible, she slipped past his mental barriers and was within him. For a moment, he felt free. Free to hand over to her all of the pain, all of the worries that had plagued him.

But freedom quickly turned to rebellion, and then to hot, searing pain as she proceeded deeper and deeper into his mind. Suddenly, she was seeking out every shadow, every ripple of emotion he had ever dared to feel. Every breath he had ever drawn seemed to sting his lungs. Every word he had ever spoken parched his lips. Every tear he had ever shed burned his eyes and stung his cheeks. Even though he would not have thought it possible, the pain intensified. Each time his heart beat, it was at her command, every time life-giving oxygen was allowed into his lungs, it was her doing. She had ripped all control from him, down to the minutest detail. She had complete power over him, over every aspect of his being.

It was then that she began ripping from him every instant of his life. There were the memories of each moment as they went speeding past him--out of control--plummeting, spiraling past, as they were each dissected into intricate detail. He witnessed the death of a mother he had barely remembered. But now he could see her face, feel her touch, smell her skin as she held him close, and he felt the profound anguish and confusion as a child who could not understand her absence. He experienced the birth of a child, a daughter, and felt her being laid in his arms for the first time. He relived the misery he felt at the death of his long-trusted and much loved father. The agony was fresh in his mind of a day when, due to his own foolishness, he had lost the two whom he loved so dearly, and had lost the will to live. There was much that was beautiful and joyous, but the painful times seemed to overshadow all that was good.

There were other memories, too. Memories of a childhood spent knowing he was different, knowing that if he did not quell these feelings within him, he could never measure up to what was expected. The death of a beloved pet, the arms of a mother surrounding him and knowing that such displays of affection would bring wrath if they were observed. There was a companion, one who could not be named, who had been ripped away from him. There were consuming feelings of aloneness that only come from being different, and the determination to succeed beyond expectations in compensation. The bonding of himself to a female child that, even then, he knew would never hold for him that which he longed for.

The weakness within him yearned for something more. Decisions made and the pain that can only be found in the disappointed eye of a father. The instant when a golden being appeared before him and he knew his heart had found a home. Then another appeared before him, a dark, more menacing one. Constantly seeking, pushing, goading him into perceiving that which he was unprepared for, worming his way into his mind and into his very soul. Annoyance and irritation slowly mutated into something much deeper, much more frightening--love. Empty years of longing, aching for that which could never be. Onward, the scenes flashed before him and with each, the sensations and emotions associated with them.

Then began an excruciating burning that Leonard felt deep in his soul as, layer upon layer, the memories were sheared from him. Some part of him tried to grasp them as they were torn away, but a force of great power paralyzed him. All he could do was watch in agony as the hot thread severed his mind into disjointed sections. The dark force, the one which had been haunting him since that time on a distant planet, was now ever-present. The enemy he had spent his life fighting against was so close, hanging over him, ready to make its descent. He felt it begin to move on him, closing all around him, and knew with certainty that he was dying.

But just as he felt the dark monster of death begin to encircle him, tighten around him, he was no longer alone. He felt the one he had trusted with all he was, cover him, and protect him. He felt the warm body lie across him, could feel the warm breath against his neck and smell the copper-spice of the skin. 'You will not be injured, Leonard. I will not allow it,' Spock's words were whispered into his ear. McCoy's muscles strained as he tried to wrap his arms around the form that felt so real, but he was unable to move. 'Shhh...' the presence soothed. "Lay still, my t'hy'la. I am with you. Nothing can hurt you. All is as it should be.'

McCoy fell into the sound of the voice. He trusted it with his very soul. He began to breathe deeply and felt his body begin to relax as he stopped trying to fight all that was going on. Spock was with him. He would not let him die. He realized that which was being pulled from him, the memories, the sights, the sounds, were not his own, did not belong to him, he had no right to possess them. He had only been allowed to be their guardian for a short time. Now, they were being returned to the one to whom they belonged.

Light began to form around them and Spock's weight on him grew less and less noticeable. He felt Spock searching for another. 'Jim...' he heard, whispered in Spock's voice.

Leonard became aware of T'Lar's presence once more as she began to withdraw from his mind. With a gentle touch, she sealed the wounds within him as she pulled away. He called to Spock, but that part of him was no more. There was, however, a great emptiness where Spock and Jim had been a part of him for so many years. This chasm, T'Lar didn't heal and he understood the reason. It would be up to them to decide whether or not to refill this place. The ritual complete, Leonard slowly became aware of his surroundings. The air was thin and hot, and he felt as if he could not get enough oxygen into his lungs. A face hovered above him and he felt warm fingers touch the back of his hand. "Sarek," Leonard gasped.

He fought to rise, but the dizziness stopped him. He felt his head fall back toward the stone platform, but an arm, padded in a thick material, caught him. With Sarek's arm around his shoulders, he was able to sit up, although quite unsteadily. "How's Spock?" Leonard managed to ask.

"He lives. The refusion was successful."

Bones managed to turn and look at the platform behind him. The women who had prepared Spock for this ritual were now bringing him to his feet. The black cloth that had covered him had been stripped from him and left on the platform where he had lain, leaving Spock exposed. Although turned away from those gathered below, and probably shielded by the number of Vulcans standing around him, McCoy felt great pain for the naked man who was so private. "Cover him!" he pleaded to Sarek.

"The robe of Zi'har is being brought to him," Sarek soothed.

Leonard saw an entourage of Vulcans adorned in crimson and white robes ascending the steps. In the lead was a hooded male with a robe draped carefully across his arms. His head was bowed, seemingly in worship, as he led the group to where Spock stood. Two accompanying males took the robe and with great care, unfolded it, spread it out in royal fashion, and brought it to Spock's shoulders.

"Zi'har?" Leonard questioned.

"He will be a student of the Zi'har for as long as it takes for retraining."

"What kind of retraining? I thought you said the refusion was successful."

"Yes, but there is much he will have to relearn. Although that which he instilled in you is intact, it will take time for him to reconnect it to his conscious thought."

"His memory isn't complete? You've spoken with him?" Leonard asked.

"I was given the opportunity to speak with him. There is much he is unsure of."

"But he does remember us, Jim...and me, I'm certain of it."

"I am sorry. You are...unfamiliar...to him."

"That can't be. Sarek, he was with me. He saved my life. If it hadn't been for him, then neither one of us would have survived."

"Perhaps. However, more likely, it was your wishing for his presence that made it seem so. But if it was his consciousness, then he no longer has contact with that part of himself."

Leonard looked at Spock, then back at Sarek. Could it have been nothing more than his imagination that made Spock seem so real to him? No! He had felt him, he was sure if it. But was he? In the confusion that comes to even the most vivid dream upon awakening, all that had transpired was beginning to become clouded and confusing in the reality of the moment. His uncertainty of what had been real, and what had been imagined grew more profound as the line that separated the two became more blurred. "But he will remember us, won't he?" Leonard asked.

"Those memories may return in time."

Sarek was telling him there were no assurances that Spock would ever remember them, their life these last years, or the love they had for each other. He glanced again toward Spock. It seemed a miracle that he was standing, speaking with those around him. The sight of him filled Bones with joy and, he had to admit, with sadness for all that may be lost. He told himself that whatever happened, Spock was alive. It was a time to celebrate that fact alone. He had loved Spock for years when he thought the feeling would never be returned. He certainly would not--could not--stop loving the man now. He resisted the urge to go to him, and turned back to Sarek and nodded.

Leonard slid to his feet and wobbled slightly. It felt as if the ground was moving beneath him. He reached out for support but found his elbow gripped within Sarek's hand, supporting him. He turned and looked into the brown eyes. 'Accept the unacceptable,' Jim had said several weeks before. Lately, with each passing day, Leonard was realizing how truly prophetic those words had been.

Jim. Leonard looked out to those gathered below to seek him out. There he was, standing off to the side of the altar watching them. There was something in those eyes as Sarek led him to the steps. Coldness? Hurt? Whatever it was, it didn't make sense. Surely Jim was not angry that he had consented to go through with this. After all, this was what the last grueling days had been about. He felt the hand leave his elbow, but Sarek stayed at his shoulder as they descended the steps and walked to where Jim waited. Whatever he had seen a moment ago was gone, and only a look of concern shown in the hazel eyes.

"I'm okay, Jim," Bones assured him as he passed by. Then he took his place where he had always belonged, where he still belonged--at Jim's side.

Chapter 7

Assuring himself that Bones was all right, Jim turned his attention to the altar. When T'Lar had removed her fingers from Spock's face, it took all of Jim's restraint to keep from storming the steps. But it was only Sarek who was allowed to advance to where they both lay when the Priestess had completed the ritual.

He watched as Sarek spoke to the yet unmoving form on the platform and Jim had thought the ritual had been a failure. He had not dared to let himself believe the outcome would be any different. But when he saw Spock turn his face to his father, and begin to speak, Jim froze. How could that be? He had seen Spock charred in the containment chamber, had helped prepare him, and had wept over the cylinder that held his body. He had watched as the tube containing Spock's corpse had been jettisoned from the ship. These were not images that were conducive to the moving, living, breathing man he saw at the altar.

Jim had also watched as Sarek moved beside McCoy, bent over him, and stroked Leonard's hand with a look of tenderness that Jim had never before seen emanate from the stoic Vulcan.

Sarek's arm had gently supported Bones as he rose, and it was obvious that the ordeal of the last hours had taken its toll. When McCoy had finally turned and scanned the faces of those who were waiting below, the ice-blue eyes found his own. For the brief moment that they looked at each other, more questions than answers passed between them.

"What about Spock?" Kirk asked Sarek when he paused in front of him.

"Only time will answer," he responded. "Kirk, I thank you. What you have done is...."

"What I have done..." Jim answered curtly. But his tone softened somewhat when he continued. "...I had to do."

"But at what cost? Your ship. Your son."

Didn't he know? How could he not try to save the men who completed him? Even with all that had happened, he would go through it again, if need be. Looking down, even though fighting against it, his voice filled with emotion as he replied. "If I hadn't tried, the cost would have been my soul."

Sarek nodded his understanding. There was nothing more to be said between them at this time. The understanding between the two men was more than clear. Both were grateful to the other for the parts each played in rescuing Spock, no matter the presently unknown outcome. And each understood the reasons behind this event not being as joyous as expected. The deaths, the expulsion from Starfleet, the destruction of the ship that he had offered up his life to save more times than he cared to remember, and, possibly most important of all, the man who played an integral role in the lives of both of them--Leonard McCoy.

Sarek turned to follow the procession that was leaving the sacred place. Spock, after being adorned in the sacramental robe, the hood tucked precisely around his head, was escorted down the steps by the priests that surrounded him.

Kirk stood waiting for some sign that Spock knew him. But when the hooded figure passed by without even a glance in his direction, Kirk's hopes were dashed. 'Spock! It's me, Jim! I am here!' he wanted to scream, but he stood quietly, turning his body as Spock passed and could only watch as the man he had known for so many years began to climb the steps that led to the interior of the great mountain.

On the third step, Spock stopped, as did those that were accompanying him. He turned and pulled the carefully arranged hood back. Apprehensively, his eyes scanned the group standing below. When his eyes met Jim's, his gaze paused before he looked back toward the ground. The forehead furrowed as the questioning look became more pronounced. He walked back down the steps and examined each person that waited below.

Spock studied each face only briefly as he passed them, with no indication of recognition. There was Saavik, who seemed surprisingly uncomfortable under his gaze. Next was Uhura, whose look of sheer amazement echoed what Jim assumed they were all feeling at that moment. He passed by Scotty, Chekov, and Sulu, who even though the days had been grueling, couldn't hide their astonishment. But Spock's eyes did little more than slide across those faces. It wasn't until he paused momentarily in front of Bones that there was even the barest flicker of recognition in those dark eyes. But even that lasted only for a brief second before he moved in front of Jim.

It didn't seem to be pleasure, but uneasiness that appeared on Spock's face as he studied Jim carefully. "My father says that you have been my friend. You came back for me."

Jim was astonished. It was that same wonderful voice he remembered that spoke to him, and it was around a lump in his throat that he answered, "You would have done the same for me."

"Why would you do this?" Spock asked as his eyebrows knitted in question.

Why did he even have to ask? "Because the needs of the one outweigh the needs of the many."

Spock stared at Jim, as though his voice was familiar as well. It was clear that his words didn't seem logical, nor would they to any but those who had lived through these last days. He turned, and Jim thought he was going to walk away. He held his breath, forcing himself not to grab Spock by the shoulders and turn him around.

To his amazement, Spock slowly turned back towards him once again.

"I have been...and ever shall be...your friend," he strained. These words were obviously within the grasp of his memory.

"Yes... Yes, Spock!" Jim exclaimed.

That last fateful conversation between them as Spock was in the containment chamber seemed just beneath the surface. "The ship...out of danger?"

"You saved the ship. You saved us all! Don't you remember?"

Spock shook his head. Evidently the words were familiar, but it was obvious that he still couldn't place the circumstances under which they were spoken. Jim heard the insistence in his own voice, and felt Bones' eyes bearing down on him. He knew damned well that Bones was on the verge of telling him not to press too hard. But he wanted to. God, how he wanted to take Spock in his arms, tell him what the three of them had meant to each other, demand that Spock remember.

Then, unexpectedly, there was a cold wave of fear that ran through Jim. What if Spock did remember this quickly? What if he expected everything to be just as it had been before? And why did the idea of that scare Jim so? He knew why. They all needed time--time to repair and heal from all that had happened.

Even realizing this, it didn't stem his excitement when Spock said, "Jim. Your name...is Jim."

"Yes, Spock...yes!" Jim answered enthusiastically. He smiled, knowing that at some point they would all find their way back from all that had transpired. For now, it was enough. Spock pulled himself up to his full stature and snapped his eyes toward McCoy. Bones was tapping the side of his head with his finger, his smile showing the unmistakable joy he was feeling at that moment. Spock looked back at him, his eyebrows arched in question. It was then that Jim felt relief flood him. Spock would remember...when they were all ready.

It was then that the rest of the crew encircled Spock, all inundating him with words of welcome. It seemed that they all had to touch him in some way to reassure themselves that this was real, that Spock was really alive. Even Sulu, who would never have considered invading Spock's personal space in such a manner, laid a hand on the robed chest, his smile widening at the touch. When Spock looked at Jim and raised his eyebrows high on his forehead, Jim recognized the sound of his own laughter, a sound he could not remember hearing in a very long time.

Jim looked over and saw Sarek waiting off to the side. Sarek nodded. Jim smiled and returned the gesture. It was true that this man was his adversary in regard to Bones, but he certainly wasn't his enemy. This was only a man who had loved his son enough to search the universe for any part of him that had remained. He was a man who had the ability to love. And, maybe in the long run, that was all that mattered.

Jim turned his attention back to the group and watched as Spock walked over to McCoy. "You, I believe, are the one who carried that which has been restored to me."

"Yeah, I did."

"For that, I am grateful. It could not have been an easy task." Spock bowed slightly.

McCoy grinned. Hell, they were all smiling, except for Spock. "As Jim said, you would have done the same for me. I'm just glad it worked! Hell, carryin' around that much logic was really screwing up my mind!" McCoy chuckled.

It was obvious that Spock didn't understand, but it didn't matter. Spock cocked an eyebrow, and McCoy laughed louder. Spock not understanding Bones' particular sense of humor was normal! Normal! What a wonderful word! Maybe for the first time in, hell, Jim couldn't remember when, there was a measure of normalcy that existed between them.

Sarek walked to his son's side and Spock turned his attention to his father. "Spock," Sarek said gently, "the elders await you."

Spock nodded. After scanning each face once more, he turned to rejoin those he had left standing on the steps. As they walked away, Jim noticed that Sarek did not follow. Walking over to him, Jim asked, "You're not going with him?"

"I am not. This is a journey which Spock must travel alone."

"Where will he go?" Jim asked.

"He will stay in a section of Gol that houses the Tela'at, the elders with the Order of Zi'har, until they are assured that Spock has been fully retrained in the basic doctrines. From there, he will have access to all that is available in the Hall of Knowledge."

Jim watched as Saavik, Uhura, Scotty, Sulu, and Chekov--with McCoy in the rear--followed the entourage up the path. It seemed that Bones was unsure of what to do next. When the rest disappeared into the tower, he turned at the entrance and waited for the two still standing below.

Jim watched until Spock disappeared through the giant arch that was cut into the mountainside. He had lived through Spock's disappearance before, too many times it seemed, but at least this time there was a promise of renewal that Jim had never had in the past. "Is there any indication of how long that will take?" he asked.

"It will depend on his ability to relearn that which they present to him. This, too, is an unknown for our people."

"Will we be allowed to see him?" Jim turned from facing to mountain to face the man standing beside him.

The rest of the group had disappeared from sight, but Jim noticed Sarek watching the lone figure that still remained in view. Before answering, he lowered his gaze to Kirk. "Unlike that time when he chose to be a Kolinahru, if he requests the presence of outsiders, they are allowed. It would be unwise to go to him until he is ready. Should the time come when he wishes to meet with you, he will be advised of where you are, so that he may contact you."

"Where we'll be? That's the sixty-thousand credit question, isn't it? Any suggestions?"

"There are many options open to you and your crew. I am not aware, however, of any which are based on that particular monetary unit."

Jim looked at Sarek and to his amazement there was a certain sparkle in the deep brown eyes, the same sparkle that he had seen in the eyes of Spock on so many occasions. It was true, what they had seen in Bones' mind after he had returned from the Deltan Station, this man did have the capacity for humor. But, at the moment, Jim wasn't feeling quite as appreciative of this fact as he would have earlier. Not with the way the Vulcan kept turning his attention toward Bones. Jim answered, wryly, "A human expression, but I think you know that. What options are open to us?"

Sarek nodded his acquiescence to being found out, and continued. "My residence is still considered your home, and you are welcome to stay there. Or, you may stay in any of the homes of the Vulcan High Council. All members have opened their doors to you. There are comfortable units that can be made available to you at the Vulcan Science Academy complex, and there are rooms that are available to certain honored guests in the central building at Gol. It would not be in the same area where Spock will reside, and there is little distraction offered there, but for any who wish to have quiet time for meditation, it is satisfactory."

"Vulcan High Council? Honored guests at Gol? Forgive me if I'm surprised. I always got the impression that Terrans were looked upon as outsiders."

"Under normal circumstances, I would agree with you. However, you, McCoy, and your crew, have returned to us one who is most important to all of our people."

"Sarek, I know that your family is respected and highly thought of, but forgive me if I'm confused by how this affects all of Vulcan."

"James, Spock is the last male in the lineage of Solkar. He is the last recognized Vulcan to be able to claim that title."

"Solkar? I've heard that name. Ah...T'Lar stated you were the child of Skon, child of Solkar. Your grandfather?"

"In a manner, many generations past. Spock is the twelfth in the line of Solkar. It is the only recognized orkika, the line descended from Surak."

Jim swallowed deeply, unable to keep the shock out of his voice, he choked, "Are you saying that Spock is the last blood descendant of Surak? The founder of the present-day Vulcan philosophy?"

"He is. There were two others. However, one no longer exists, the other was the commander onboard the ship, Intrepid. Therefore, you understand the importance of your actions. You will find that the Vulcan people are most appreciative."

"Jesus Christ!"

"Not exactly, Admiral. That particular deity was considered to be a spiritual figure. Surak was a man of great forethought, but he was a man, not a god."

They began to walk toward the steps. Jim wondered if there would ever be an end to the things he learned about Spock. He remembered something he had once seen in Spock's mind from that first time they had come to Vulcan. "That reminds me of something T'Pring once said to Spock. Something about him becoming a legend in the eyes of the Vulcan people. Is that true?"

"Not precisely. Legends are usually formed around those who have gone before, and some of their exploits have become somewhat of an exaggeration. He is what on your planet would be more closely considered as a descendant of ruling ancestors."

"Royalty. So, if I'm understanding correctly, yours is the royal family on Vulcan," Jim stated, finding himself astonished at these revelations.

Sarek dropped his head slightly. "Perhaps," he uttered.

"Modesty, Sarek? It doesn't become you," Jim mused.

Sarek raised his head, stopped on the steps, and looked at Kirk. "I believe, Admiral, I have heard you refer to yourself as a 'farm boy from Iowa.' Yet, there is small mention of your forefathers that contributed greatly to Terra's expansion into the galaxy. If I recollect properly, you had a grandmother who was one of the leading scientists of her era. I believe it was she who discovered and mapped the formula for instantaneous gaseous isotope regeneration. And your great grandfather, Andrew Kirk, tested the first warp powered..."

"Okay, okay! Point well taken!" Jim stopped him. "Enough said. Back to the issue at hand. We can't exactly pack up and go home."

"No, that would be unwise at this time."

The man, like his son, obviously had a tendency for understatement, Jim thought. "Which presents us with a problem. It's a foregone conclusion that our accounts have been frozen, and we have certainly been taken off of the Starfleet payroll. Unfortunately, it seems we have arrived on the planet with--literally--nothing more than the clothes on our backs. The information and technology on the Bird of Prey will be valuable, but retrieving it will take time. In the meantime, if I could get off the planet, I could run a freighter..."

"Monetary concerns are not at issue, Admiral. Arrangements have been made."

"Arrangements? What kind of arrangements?" Jim asked, warily.

"Your housing and transportation needs will be met. Also, there has been account set up for you and your crew. You may draw from it at anytime."

Jim shook his head. "Thank you, but I can't accept. It's not that I don't appreciate the offer, but it's not our way."

"Pride, Admiral?" Sarek asked. There was something in his tone and the way he arched his eyebrows that made Jim realize there was an accusation behind the question.

"Self-respect, Ambassador," Jim shot back. Then, tempering his tone, he said, "It all has to do with a sense of worth. To have everything given to us, and provide nothing in return, diminishes us."

"I understand your position. Perhaps we can consider it an advance. I am certain that the expertise that you and your crew possess will prove to be most helpful, and most valuable, to our people."

Jim considered his options. He certainly didn't have the means to support his crew. Whether Sarek called it a 'gift', 'hand out', or 'advance', it was all a matter of semantics, and Jim knew it. Just the same as 'consent', 'acceptance', and 'giving in', was. However, his hands were tied. He couldn't allow his crew to suffer anymore than they were already, even if it meant accepting this offer.

"That's fine, Sarek," Jim finally relinquished. "It's just that I want you to understand, what we did out there, what we risked, wasn't for payment anymore than Spock giving his life to save the ship and crew was for payment."

"I understand, James. But you seem to be willing to foster the false illusion portrayed by Starfleet. As you know, Spock did not give his life for the crew."

"Sarek, remember, I was there. If he hadn't walked into that containment chamber, there would have been no survivors that day."

"I dispute neither the details, nor the number that survived due to his actions. However, as you are aware, he knowingly gave his life that day for primarily one reason. To save his bondmates."

"What do you mean? Are you saying that Spock wouldn't have entered that chamber if Bones and I hadn't been onboard? I don't believe that," Jim shook his head. "I've seen Spock risk his life on many occasions to save members of the crew. Even in the days before we were bonded."

"Agreed. However, in those circumstances, even though the probability was minimal, was there not always a chance of survival? On that day, there existed no potential for his continued existence. It is why he instilled his katra into McCoy before he entered the chamber. As one bonded to a Vulcan, you are aware that life is valued above all things. The only reason that a Vulcan will knowingly lay down his life, fight to the death if need be, is to keep and protect a bondmate. It is for this reason only that a Vulcan will knowingly commit shal'ma'toi. As his bondmate, did you not realize this?"

Jim felt a painful stab in his midsection. As much as he wanted to deny it, on a subconscious level Jim knew that Sarek was telling him the truth. Perhaps he knew because of the bond they had shared; because of those things left unspoken that had never been consciously considered. But Jim was sure. Questions that had plagued him since that day were suddenly answered. At the moment when Spock had left the bridge, it was to commit suicide. It was the ultimate sacrifice in an effort to save his bondmates. As hard as he had prayed to follow Spock in death that day, those onboard the ship had survived only because of the bond the three of them shared. Only now did he understand why Spock had blocked him out so completely, why he could not reach him through the bond as he knelt on the outside of the chamber.

Realizing that Spock had made such a decision--alone--for the reasons he did, was heartbreaking. But Jim found the fact that Spock had made such a decision without conferring with him, the commander in charge, unsettled him in a different way as well. It wasn't that, given the choice, Jim would have let the ship be destroyed. What he found painful was that Spock hadn't trusted him to participate in the choice. He wasn't a child, yet on both a personal and professional level, Spock had treated him like one. Jim had spent his adult life making decisions, sometimes hard ones that ripped at his gut. But, with his silence, Spock had left him incapable of participating in the decision. Powerless. It was a feeling he was becoming used to.

He had been powerless against Khan, powerless to stop David from being murdered, and, even now, he was powerless to protect his own crew, relying instead on the Vulcans to do it for him. Then, looking toward Bones, he realized that he was even powerless to fight for him. He had nothing to offer.

"James?" Sarek spoke, bringing Jim's attention back to the present.

Jim shook his head. He found the words seemed to stick in his throat. "No," he choked, "I didn't know."

"I am sorry. I had assumed you were aware of this."

Jim rubbed his thumb across his forehead. "Maybe...on some level. I don't know. Don't say anything about this to Bones, or the crew." What was done was done. He would have to accept it and move on. There was no reason for the crew to know what was in Spock's mind at the moment he entered the chamber. For whatever reasons, he had saved them...ALL of them.

"No, I assure you that I will not. If they are to be informed, then it will be by you. Now, I believe the others are waiting for us." Sarek motioned toward the tower that loomed ahead. "It has been a most tiresome day. Perhaps your crew will come to the residence to freshen up and rest. And, as I stated previously, the offer to stay there stands."

Jim looked at the man that was still standing at the entrance to the mountain waiting for them. There was still so much that was unsettled, not the least of that being the relationship between Bones and Sarek. Jim turned his attention to the man walking beside him as he spoke. "The offer for rest is appreciated.   I accept. However, as for staying there, I'm sure you'll understand if there are things that I'd rather not bear witness to. I'll opt for a place at the Academy. As for Bones, he'll have to decide for himself."

Chapter 8

He and Bones had been accepted many years before as a member of Sarek's family, a family that included some of the most influential people on the planet. Jim knew that Sarek was being as gracious as possible to him, and to all of the refugees. Certainly his reasons were sound. And Jim knew enough about the Vulcan people to know that Sarek's offers were genuine; they would not be offered otherwise. But, even so, there was a noticeable wedge that had formed between him and the ambassador. They could both sense it. It stemmed from an underlying feeling of rivalry that brewed between them. They both cared deeply for the very man who was waiting just ahead.

The rest of the walk toward McCoy was completed in silence. When they came to where he stood, Jim paused. "Well, Bones, how are you doing?"

"Nothing a stop at the local bar wouldn't cure! But all in all, I feel okay."

"Maybe if we can learn to decipher Klingon, we can synthesize something on the ship," Jim offered.

"No thank you! I've tried some of the stuff transported across the Neutral Zone that's suppose to be Klingon liquor, and I think I'd rather stay sober!"

Jim grinned, partly with relief. At least there were signs that the Bones McCoy he had known for years was back with them.

It was Sarek who responded. "I have arranged for refreshments, both liquid and otherwise, at my home. Too, it will give you a place to discuss those decisions that will need to be made."

Jim watched as Bones' eyes began to shine with the smile that bathed his face. They both knew quite well what the some of the 'liquid refreshments' were like on Vulcan. For years they had seen Spock turn his nose up at offers of alcoholic beverages, and they had always assumed that Vulcans had an aversion to intoxicating drinks. But at the time of their bonding, they had discovered that some of the native juices on the planet would put most commercially produced liquors on Earth to shame. Turned out, Spock thought the Terran alcohols were too mild.

Jim had to chuckle when Bones rubbed his hands together as the three turned and entered the mountain. "Now you're talkin'!" the doctor exclaimed.

As they made their way down the steps of the mountain, the crew began to ask questions, lots of questions, about the planet they found themselves on. Jim flashed Nyota a grateful smile when she assumed the task of answering.

She explained that Gol was located on the other side of the mountain range, and pointed out the crest that separated the renowned temple from the side of the mountain where the Bird of Prey was resting. She explained that the transport center where they had landed was used for those who wished to journey into the desert region.

As the renegades, less Saavik who had excused herself from the gathering, boarded Sarek's aircar and departed, Uhura pointed out the sights they passed over. Jim settled back in the seat and listened, even though Spock had given his bondmates the "grand tour" years before. He found the sound of her voice comforting as she pointed out the desert below, and explained that although there were travelers allowed into the region, no permanent structures were erected there for historical reasons.

As the desert below ended, there was a large group of precisely arranged buildings that came into view. "That, gentlemen," Uhura advised them, "is the Vulcan Science Academy."

"It's much larger than I thought," Pavel stated.

"It is almost three times the area of Starfleet Academy, but with less than half the number of students," she explained.

"Lass, ye have learned a lot in the day since ye arrived," Scotty grinned teasingly.

"I owe that to the fact that I had an excellent guide, Mr. Scott," she replied.

"Thank you, Nyota," Sarek acknowledged from the front of the shuttle. "Considering the activities of this last day, the fact that you recollect as much as you do is admirable."

"Thank you, Sarek. It is only your patience and willingness to be so thorough that has made me feel so comfortable here," she stated.

It was all Jim could do to suppress a groan. 'Nyota...Sarek?' Had everyone fallen under the Vulcan's spell? Jim looked over at the man seated beside him and noticed Bones couldn't take his eyes off the head directly in front of him. Well, it was obvious that Sarek had completely captivated Bones. Uhura continued her aerial tour, but Jim no longer listened as she pointed out the Central Transportation Center, the business district in the city of Shi'kahr, or the countryside as they began to move over the area where the private residences were located.

It wasn't until they began to descend toward the estate that Jim leaned over, and whispered, "How are you doing?"

He had hoped to draw McCoy's attention away from the Vulcan piloting the shuttle. It worked. Bones turned and looked at Jim.

"I'm okay. Just rememberin' the first time we came here with him...when we were bonded."

Jim sat back and let his head rest against the back of the seat. He closed his eyes and allowed the guilt to wash over him. Bones hadn't been thinking about Sarek, but about the first time they had approached this place. It had been in expectation of the bonding ceremony to Spock. At that time, their lover had been suffering the deep effects of plak'tow. This time, he was elsewhere and didn't remember the important role they had played in his life. A feeling of depression seemed to settle on Jim with that thought. "I know," Jim whispered.

An hour after leaving the top of Mt. Seleya, they settled in front of the long, low estate. All got out of the shuttle and Sarek led Uhura and McCoy inside. However, the three men who had never been here before--Chekov, Sulu, and Scott--stopped and stared at the entrance to the manor. Jim watched, slightly bemused, as they took in the unexpected magnificence of Sarek's home. By the looks on their faces, it seemed to be quite a shock to the three men. Jim could understand. He and Bones had almost the same reaction the first time they came here.

Under his breath, Pavel muttered something that was obviously a Russian explicative.

"Aye, lad! My words exactly!" the Scotsman agreed.

"Gentlemen, if you please?" Jim indicated the entrance with a wave of his hand.

Closing their mouths, and nodding just a bit contritely, they followed him inside. Staull, Sarek's aide, met them at the door and greeted Kirk, acknowledging him as a member of the household. He then showed them to the main room where Sarek, Uhura, and McCoy waited.

"Admiral Kirk," Sarek addressed him by his title as he entered the room. "I have had your room prepared, as well as suites for your crew. There you will find drinks and refreshments. This will give you and your crew an opportunity to freshen up and rest from your travel."

"Thank you, Ambassador. I'm sure we'd all appreciate the opportunity to get cleaned up and get something to drink, right?" He looked at his crew, and was met with assuring nods.

Sarek nodded to the group assembled, but then Jim watched as the Vulcan's eyes fixed on McCoy. "A late afternoon meal will be served in three hours. In the meantime, as usual, the house is yours to enjoy at your leisure. I will have Staull show your crew to the suites." Sarek broke his gaze with McCoy, and looked at Jim, before he motioned toward his aide.

All followed the elderly aide from the room, and toward the breezeway that led to the section where the guest suites were housed. But the sound of Sarek saying, "Leonard..." caused Jim to stop at the threshold and turn back toward the main room. It seemed the two of them were unaware of his presence. Knowing that he should follow the others, he could not drag himself away from the scene being played out before him.

"You have had little to say since leaving the place of refusion. Are you well?" Sarek asked.

McCoy turned to Sarek, and Jim noticed that there was barely an arms-length of space separating them. "Yeah, Sarek, I'm fine. Tired, but a little rest will cure that," Bones answered, turning his face toward the Vulcan.

The look of passion that flashed across Sarek's face took Jim by surprise. Jim sensed that Sarek was on the verge of asking Bones to retire with him, and he stood deathly still as he waited to see what McCoy's answer would be. But the question never came.

"Then I should allow you to rest. However, I have not had a chance to thank you for all you have done. I want to do so now."

McCoy shook his head and walked toward the large window that looked out on the terrace. Sarek followed, coming to stand right behind Bones. "Don't, Sarek. Don't thank me. Not for this. I would've done anything to save him, you know that." McCoy turned away from the window; he and Sarek were now nearly chest-to-chest. "Besides," Bones continued, his voice softening, "I once made a promise to you, remember?"

Standing almost six meters away, and only being able to see the ambassador's back, Jim wasn't sure if an answer came. If it did, it was no more than a breath. Jim stood in stunned silence and watched as Sarek's hands, which had been clasped behind his back, released and dropped to his side. Then one hand moved upwards, as if to caress the face in front of him, but, instead, he brought his hands behind him once more. The fists tightened, one around the other, until Jim could see the knuckles turning white, even from across the room.

The knot that had been ever-present in Jim's gut these last days, tightened. There was an atmosphere of denied passions that seemed to saturate the room, permeating it with want and need and denial; robbing it of air. His body wanted him to draw a breath, but his lungs could not react. He wanted to turn and run, but his muscles had him frozen in place. At that moment, he despised Sarek for desiring Bones so completely. Even more disturbing, however, he realized there was a minuscule part of him, a diminutive element within him, which wanted Sarek to reach for McCoy; wanted the Vulcan to help Bones find that part of himself that he had lost on the day Spock died. Something that Jim, himself, felt incapable of doing just now. With that thought, Jim felt his fists constrict, and felt his nails cutting into the palms of his hands.

Sarek bowed slightly toward McCoy, then turned and left the room through the door closest to the terrace. He never looked toward Jim, and he had no idea if Sarek was even aware of his presence. It was only then that McCoy looked at the entry where Jim was standing. There was a momentary look of stunned surprise in the doctor's expression when their eyes met, but it was only when a small smile was flashed toward him, that Jim found the ability to draw air into his oxygen-starved lungs again.

"Well, Jim," McCoy grinned as he walked toward him. "I'm ready to see what refreshments have been supplied in the suites, how about you?"

"Sure, Bones," Jim replied, just not so enthusiastically, as they turned and followed the same way the others had gone minutes before.

Once they were through the breezeway and into one of the connecting parts of the manor, they saw that the other crewmembers had already retired to various suites. Staull was standing beside the arch that led to the suite they had shared with Spock during their times here. It would not have been Jim's choice to go to the same room that held so many memories, but it was obvious that this had been set up for them. There was a tray of fruits and breads set out on the table behind the sofa, and a selection of beverages awaited them in several crystalline pitchers.

Nodding their appreciation to Staull, they entered the room. Right away, Jim noticed the sheer fabric that separated the platform sleeping area from the rest of the suite had been pulled aside, and there were two robes laid out on the bed. For some unfathomable reason, the sight unnerved him.

Bones seemed not to notice, and he went straight for the pitcher that contained an opaque, green liquid. It was unmistakably saya, a very potent, fermented juice from one of the plants found on the planet. And, if comparing intoxicating qualities, Jim knew it would put any of the alcohols produced on Earth to shame.

Perusing the platter of fruits, Jim selected a small spear of a blue-green fruit he knew to be kaasa. It had a taste similar to pineapple, but not nearly as sweet. The juice running down his throat as he bit into it was a welcome feeling. As Bones drained the last of the liquid from his glass, Jim sampled a few more of the offerings from the platter before pouring himself a glass of the cool water supplied.

"Well, Jim, first things first," Bones said, setting his glass on the table. "I'm gonna to take advantage of the shower."

"Sounds good," Jim nodded in agreement. And, for a second, stripping the clothes from both of them and taking a shower together sounded great. Then Bones began to unceremoniously get undressed, and Jim found himself walking to the glass wall that overlooked the grounds, and staring through the nearly sheer fabric instead of at the man behind him.

Jim wondered why he couldn't bring himself to turn and watch the pleasing sight of his lover disrobing. For over eleven years, that had been one of the basic pleasures in his life. He had always loved reveling in those moments when they could shed the uniforms and garments that they wore for the outside world, for the sensuality of bare flesh that was only meant for each other. It was as if even that outlet for enjoyment had been stolen from him.

"You gonna join me?" Bones asked.

Still not turning around, Jim shook his head, and answered, "Not right now, Bones. You go ahead."

He felt the touch of the hands as they were laid on his shoulders. Bones pressed his nude body closer, and Jim could feel the arousal against his butt as it was pressed against the material of his trousers. Warm lips caressed the area of his neck just beneath the hairline. "Are ya sure?" was whispered, seductively.

But instead of pressing back against the body, which had been his natural instinct for as long as he could remember, he felt himself take a quick step forward to free himself from the contact, the sensation, of Bones moving against him. He sucked a quick breath through his clenched teeth, as if a hot iron had seared him.

Bones didn't say anything else. The hands dropped from his shoulders and he heard McCoy walk toward the bathroom and slide the door shut. It was only then that Jim felt his body relax a bit.