| Chapter 19 Knowing it was time for his prearranged meeting with Saavik, Spock arose from the kneeling pad and took a moment to steady himself. Meditation had not given him the peace he sought. Where he had desired an end to the disturbing images, he was now certain that, in reality, they were becoming more vivid. But they were just that, visual representations, flashes of scenes that held little meaning for him. However, where they had been merely a curiosity before, now he was discerning a more pronounced--almost driven--desire to ascertain their significance. Smoothing his robes, he proceeded to the meeting room where his engagements with Saavik always took place. Rounding the corner, he looked toward the bench where she had always awaited him in the past, only to find that she was not there. Instead, she was standing on the balcony, turned away from him, overlooking the desert below. He paused for a moment. There was something about her stance that he immediately noticed--straighter, and decisively more rigid--that was out of character for her. He resumed his forward motion until he was standing behind her. It appeared that she had yet to detect his presence. "T'sai Saavik," he stated. Slowly, she turned. He could not help but notice that the expression she wore was more pensive than was the norm for her. "Spock," she replied, softly. "Is there a reason you are standing on the balcony?" he asked, hoping to decipher the reason for the perceived transformation in her on this day. "I was just thinking about the recent changes in my life, about this planet that I have come to think of as my home, and about you." She looked out toward the never changing scene below. There was a distinctive change in her demeanor on this day, and that, as well as her choice of seemingly intense topics, piqued Spock's inquisitive nature that much more. Arching an eyebrow in her direction, Spock stated, "I can understand the need to meditate regarding your recent decisions. From our previous discussions, I am aware that you have undergone many recent changes, specifically, your request to be released from the institution known as Starfleet. Also, I can appreciate your deep consideration of Vulcan. It is a planet with a profound and philosophical history. However, I cannot apprehend your need to consider me in your meditative contemplations." Her eyes turned back to him. There was a dept to them that he had never before noticed. "No, I suppose you wouldn't understand. You have no memory of how important you are to me, and I regret that. You do not remember how you rescued me from certain death on Hellguard, or how I would have survived no more than a few days had you not found me when you did." Spock furrowed his brow. "No, you are correct. I was unaware that I had played such a role in your life." She looked down and nodded. "I know. In these last years, you have been my mentor, my teacher, and my confidant. I owe everything that I am to your care and guidance. You took me in, fed me, clothed me, and offered me a place of honor within your family. Your death affected me in ways that you would never be able to comprehend. After they prepared your body, I was allowed to view your remains. All that you had been to me, all that you had meant to me, seemed lost." She looked back up at him, her eyes reflecting the depth of the grief she had experienced. "You must understand that I would have done anything for you." Spock discerned an unusual response to her words. Perhaps it was best defined as remorse over causing her such anguish. "Saavik, I am sorry that you were subjected to those events surrounding my death. However, the need to grieve no longer exists. I survived and, in great part, I understand, because of you. If I am correct, it was you and a Terran scientist who located me on the Genesis planet." Looking away, as if she could not meet his gaze any longer, she replied, "Yes, that's true, but that's not all of it. There are things that happened that you are not aware of. Something that I must now tell you." Without thinking, and certainly out of character, he found himself placing his hand lightly on her shoulder. "I am here, and willing to hear anything that you wish to say," he soothed. She seemed to draw a deep, ragged breath, and then swallowed hard. "On the planet, you were nothing more than a child when we first located you. Because of inconsistencies used in the formula for the Genesis device, the planet was aging rapidly, more rapidly than expected, and you along with it. David...David Marcus...the scientist who was accompanying me, left to investigate the other life forms that were trailing us. It was during this time...that you felt the calling of the blood fever." Spock dropped his hand and he, himself, turned toward the half-wall of the balcony. "I experienced pon farr?" he asked. Saavik turned toward him. "Yes, Spock. It was tearing you apart. I had no reason to believe you would survive its effects without help...without my help." Spock allowed the meaning of her words to sink in. It was not something he had suspected. Turning to her, he found a plea for understanding waiting behind those eyes. "Since I did survive, I have to conclude that you saw me through the burning. For that, I am grateful. There is no need for self-recrimination. You did only that which was logical at the time. It is I who should be asking your forgiveness." She looked away once more. "It was not something that I found unpleasant, or that you could control. It only lasted a few hours." "A few hours that I would not have survived without your assistance. I must assume that we...mated...during this time?" Lowering her head, she nodded. "Yes, we engaged in intercourse. Spock...when we mated, I conceived a child." Spock felt his eyebrows rise sharply, and he experienced an inexplicable rush of emotion surging within him. He attempted to steel himself against this unanticipated consequence to her announcement, and fought to gain control over these emotive reverberations. His mind searched for the identity of this strong sentiment, knowing that to categorize it was the first step in mastering it. However, he found it was a mixture of many different reactions--excitement, elation, happiness, and he even found some measure of fear was involved. "Indeed," he breathed. She looked up at him. "There is more. The scientist, David Marcus...I was...involved with him. I am also carrying his child." "This is the same man who was killed on the Genesis planet, is it not?" "Yes, the same," Saavik whispered, the sorrow in her face unmistakable. "I mourn your loss," Spock replied, his tone softening. "As for your physical condition, the situation is an unusual one, but given the right circumstances, not impossible to achieve. Of course, given the conditions under which we conceived, I offer you my full support, even a bond, if that is your wish." Saavik looked at him and seemed to study his face. "Most kind," she nodded. "However, I do not believe that you want a bond originating out of duty any more than I. Because I must undergo nem'ta'kan'es, I come to you seeking validation for our child. You have the right to claim this child as a member of your House. If you wish to do so, I shall be most honored. If you do not, I ask that you allow your child to be recognized as a member of the House of Sarek." Spock realized some measure of relief. It was true that he did not desire a bond with Saavik, even though he admired her greatly. In fact, the images he had recently been subjected to left him with only one conclusion; he was sa'ka'ashausu. When the time came to pursue a partner for the purpose of surviving pon farr, he was certain that he would require someone of his own gender. "As I advised you on the occasion of our last meeting, joining the Order of the Kolinahru has been a consideration. Although I have begun to question that path, I cannot say that I will be forming a House of my own. Therefore, as is my right, the child conceived by me will have all status afforded by the clan of my heritage." She seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, and her facial features softened. "Thank you. Your consideration is most appreciated." He nodded to her slightly. "There is no need for expressions of gratitude. You have behaved most honorably. You and your child...our child...deserves to be treated with unquestioned respect. However, there remains the issue of the other, the child fathered by David Marcus. This child, too, deserves recognition. If you wish, I will speak to my father about accepting that child into his House as well. I am unable to speak for him, and my request may not persuade him to comply. Our relationship has been considerably less than benevolent for some time." Saavik's eyebrows furrowed. "That is most kind of you. However, someone is speaking to your father on my behalf at this moment. But I do not understand. When did your relationship with Ambassador Sarek become strained?" Spock suppressed a sigh. "Unfortunately, it has been so since my decision to select Starfleet over the Vulcan Science Academy. He found it impossible to ever come to terms with my choice." Saavik turned away from him and walked the few steps that the boundary of the balcony wall allowed. Turning back to him, the look of uncertainty remained etched on her face. "Spock...I have been reminded today of the value of truth. I am reluctant to talk about those things which you are not aware, but in this matter, I feel I must speak out. "I know of your relationship with your father, and have heard that there was once an estrangement that existed between the two of you. However, it has not been so since long before I came to live on Vulcan. Spock, your father cares very deeply for you. There are few father-son relationships, Vulcan or otherwise, as close as the one the two of you share. It was Sarek who pursued your recovery. He traveled to Earth to seek out James Kirk in search of your katra and demanded that Admiral Kirk bring both your body and Leonard McCoy here for the fal-tor-pan. When the time came to retrieve your remains from the Genesis planet, and Starfleet refused to lend aid, Sarek played a vital role in assisting the crew steal the ship that came to our rescue. Without him...without them...both you and I, as well as our child, would certainly be dead." Spock's mind reeled. If Saavik was correct, much of what he had believed to be true over these last two months was anything but. According to her, the estrangement between him and his father ended many years before, resulting in a relationship that was most agreeable. He studied her face for any trace of deception and found none. "Are you certain of these facts?" he asked skeptically. Nodding, she walked toward him. "Yes, quite certain. Spock, your father declared publicly to the High Priestess of Gol that his logic was uncertain where you are concerned. Had she denied his request, he would have been shunned for this admission. Spock, Sarek was willing jeopardize all that he is for you." Spock shook his head in an attempt to assimilate this information. "If this is true, then why has he chosen to be absent during my retraining?" Taking a step forward, she asked, "Have you requested that he come to you?" Turning away, he realized that although he had asked about him, and his noticeable absence since the day of the ritual, he had never specifically requested for him to come to Gol. There had been no need. It had been made clear that his father would not acknowledge him. "No, I have not," he breathed. He had been deceived, and it did not take a comprehensive calculation to deduce who was behind it. However, the reason his mother would go to such lengths to mislead him eluded Spock completely. According to Saavik, it was apparent that his relationship with his father was not the only information in question. Had she not just this morning admitted that she had been wrong? It seemed that besides the material presented during their academic tutoring sessions, data which was indisputable, this admission was perhaps one of the few forthright declarations she had shared with him since her arrival. Turning back, he asked, "And am I to understand that those who rescued us did not do so in the line of duty?" Saavik shook her head sharply, causing her hair to spill over her shoulder. "Indeed not. They categorically defied Starfleet orders to precipitate your retrieval from the Genesis planet. In payment for their actions, Starfleet wants the six of them handed over for prosecution. They are still on the planet only because of a self-imposed exile, and have been granted protection by a most grateful Vulcan government." "Why would they do this?" he asked. It was the same question he had posed to the man he recognized as Jim on the day of his refusion. The answer he had received seemed illogical. 'The needs of the one outweigh the needs of the many,' the man had replied. At the time, the human's answer had seemed to be nothing more than irrational ramblings that, in some inexplicable way, seemed familiar. Perhaps, Spock decided as he stared into Saavik's face, the statement deserved further investigation. "Why would this team place themselves in obviously adverse circumstances on my behalf?" he questioned. He felt as if he should know the answer, yet the reasoning for such illogical behavior remained elusive. Saavik had yet to reply, and only stared at him in silence. When she did finally respond, it did not supply him with the resolution he had hoped for. "That, I cannot explain. You shall have to ask that question of those involved." Spock suspected that Saavik was in possession of additional information, but was hesitant to disclose anything further. He made the decision not to press her. That which tied them together was eminently more important. "Indeed. It is my intention to do just that." Walking to where he was standing directly in front of her, he reached out a hand and lightly stroked the back of his fingers down the side of her face. "Saavik, I wish to express to you my gratitude for that which you have brought to me this day, in particular, the enlightenment concerning the impending birth of our child. I find a level of satisfaction accompanying this knowledge that I would have otherwise believed unattainable. Although there will be no bond shared between us, I give you my oath that I shall be earnest in my responsibilities to you, and equally to both of your offspring." Reaching up and clasping his hand tightly, she pressed his hand to her cheek. He did not find the sensation of her touch disagreeable. "I always knew you were a man of integrity, and I have always respected and been most grateful to you for all that you have done for me." Tilting her face up to look at him, she added, "But until this very moment, I never realized how much love I feel for you." Spock nodded. He knew he should reprimand her for her admission, but on some level he enjoyed the openness that was being shared between them. Making the conscious decision to cast aside his own tight controls, only for this situation, he answered, "Within me, I, too, discern deep stirrings for you. I believe it has always been so." Spock felt the grip on his hand relax as Saavik turned his palm over, and spread his fingers. She guided his hand until it was pressed flat against her lower abdomen. "I make you this oath; I shall protect this child, these children, with my very life." With the touch on her belly, he felt an unexpected shiver run through him. He leaned toward her and placed his mouth against her hair, almost as a means of support. "Will you allow me to be present at the naming ceremony?" he whispered, his throat swelling with emotion. She pulled her head back and looked up at him. "You will have the position of father to one of these children, and, if you wish, honorary father to the other. All rights that come with that position will be bestowed upon you. Although you cannot be present for the nem'ta'kan'es, you are most welcome at the birth, as well as all events and rituals that will surround these children." When he spoke again, he heard the tone of his voice as it was produced through a smile. "You have not told me, am I to have a daughter or a son?" Very gently, his smile was reflected back to him from the one now present on her face. "I carry within me both a daughter and a son. Your seed has produced a daughter." "I find I am most pleased by that fact," he replied. Since Spock was not allowed to accompany Saavik to the healer, the two spent the remainder of the afternoon together. Leaving the sterile surroundings of the meeting room behind, they found their way beyond the gates of Gol and to the enclosed botanical gardens that were located nearby. The structure was used to generate plant species from all parts of the galaxy, and was seldom frequented by any other than the occasional scientist from the Academy. Locating one of the more appealing areas, they seated themselves upon patch of hybrid moss. After a while, Spock excused himself to retrieve a delivery he had arranged before their departure from Gol. He returned to her shortly thereafter with a platter of fruits and breads, a pitcher of juice, and two glasses. Reclining on the soft ground cover, they enjoyed their meal and spent the next hours theorizing about what the future would bring to these children. Spock insisted that they would be raised with a strict adherence to the Vulcan disciplines and a strong background in math and the sciences. Saavik agreed, except for the fact that they would be introduced to the dogma from *all* of their combined heritages, and the sciences would be supplemented with a solid emphasis on literature and the arts. It was with a cocked eyebrow that Spock finally relented. No longer bound by the imposing walls that had surrounded him these last months, he felt himself begin to relax as they grew more comfortable with each another. As pleasant as he found this experience, there were certain aspects that he found most disturbing. Specifically, and quite out of character, Spock repeatedly found himself wanting to touch her, specifically her abdominal region, but refrained from instigating such unseemly contact. During a period of silence between them, Saavik seemed to sense his desire. "You may do so, if you wish," she uttered softly. "You do not mind?" Spock asked. "I do not. Your child inside of me. I find it most gratifying that this pleases you." Lying back, Saavik raised her tunic to beneath her breast and lower the waist of her trousers to just above the pubic line. Moving next to her, Spock began to gently caress the bare flesh of her abdomen. At her invitation, his hand roamed slowly over that area between her waist and her pubis. With Saavik lying in this position, the developing mound over her womb was small but unmistakable. Understanding the intricacies of biology and the detailed process of conception did nothing to stem his feeling that what was taking place inside her body was nothing less than a miracle. This was one situation, he concluded, where logic simply did not apply. Touching her so intimately, he found himself aroused. But although he appreciated and admired her body, it was a deeper longing, one that seemed to have no end, that gripped him. He felt a deep sense of need and longing weal up to the point where he believed it was going to overtake him. He knew there was something, someone, he desired, someone he wanted to share this moment with, but the realization of who seemed to remain just outside of his mind's reach. Saavik, with her almost profound understanding of him, brought her hand up and caressed his face. "You will find that which you are searching for. Someday...soon," she soothed. He only wished that he could be so certain. When the time came for her to depart, he walked with her to the landing pad just outside the gates, and together they waited for the shuttle to arrive. For the next weeks, she would be under the watchful eye of the healer, and physically inaccessible to anyone from the outside. For all that she would be undergoing, seclusion was necessary. "You will contact me once it is done?" he asked. "Of course I will. Will you be here?" Saavik looked back toward the tall, impermeable walls that stood behind them. Only one day earlier, he would have answered in the affirmative without hesitation. However, certainty was no longer a constant. "I am unable to answer definitively. If not, I shall leave word with the elders where I can be reached at all times." She nodded as the shuttle that would take her away settled close by. The door opened, awaiting her. Turning to Spock, she said, "Peace be with you, Spock." "And with you, Saavik-kam," he replied, softly. With that, she walked to the shuttle, climbed inside, and the door slid shut. He stood outside the imposing gates and watched until the vehicle carrying her was no longer visible. Turning and walking back inside, he heard the sound of metal hitting metal as the gate closed behind him. It was the sound of aloneness. His first inclination was to find his mother and advise her of this newest revelation. However, if his deductions were correct, she had spent these last months weaving a web of deception. He knew that it would not be wise to approach her until his controls were, once again, fully intact. Tonight, he would meditate. Tomorrow, he would seek answers, and he knew for certain that they would not be found behind these protective walls. Chapter 20 Leonard returned to the study to find Sarek seated at the desk, his eyes closed. There was a look of serenity on that beautiful face, and he recognized the man he had come to know in these last months. Not wanting to disturb this moment of peace, he stood very still inside the study, quietly drinking in the image before him. Sarek's eyes opened, and Leonard found himself embarrassed that he had been discovered staring at him. However, when Sarek stretched out his hand, he knew any social faux pas he had committed was forgiven. He walked over and took the hand and, always the doctor, noticed that it was cooler than it had been just minutes before. Any further thoughts of a medical examination went no further as Sarek urged Leonard to kneel down beside the chair. Leaning forward, Sarek captured his mouth. The feel of the strong arms surrounding him seemed somehow surreal. After the loneliness of these last weeks, his heart wanted to believe this was true, but his mind was less than convinced. There was an urgency that sprang to life between them with that first, unfettered touch of their lips. Leonard's hands went to the back of Sarek's head, pulling them closer, while Sarek's arms wrapped solidly around his shoulders. In those first moments, it was as though they were both attempting to satisfy a seemingly unquenchable thirst. The sound of wet, heated mouths seeking pleasure--accompanied by soft, guttural moans--only accentuated the sounds of the quick, sucking breaths that filled the room. Only when their starved lungs needed more oxygen than could be supplied through such tenuous means, did they break apart. Releasing their hold on one another, Leonard sat back on his heels while replenishing his throbbing chest with gulps of life-sustaining air. Although he estimated it would be several days until Sarek was in the throes of plak tow, he knew it wouldn't be long before Sarek's need for release would far exceed his ability to restrain his actions. He knew too well the war that was being waged inside that magnificent body. He wanted to spread apart the folds of the opulent robe, find Sarek's aching hardness, and use his mouth to satisfy him. Just as he considered acting on these thoughts, the elderly Staull appeared at the door of the study. Leonard had forgotten that they were not alone in the house, and the arrival of Sarek's aide startled him. Staggering to his feet, he realized just how close he had come to ravishing Sarek in the presence of this man. Leonard, too, was on the verge of losing control; not because of the fever of pon farr, but merely because he wanted to feel the touch of this man against him. The fact that he could lose his sense of reason so quickly wasn't a comforting thought. He knew that one of them had to keep their wits about them. Staull, directing his attention solely at Sarek, said something to him in the Vulcan language. Sarek nodded as his aide turned and left them alone in the room. Rising from the chair, Sarek turned to Leonard. "Staull informs me that the midday meal has been set out. I wish for you to join me." "I'm not very hungry, but thank you," McCoy replied, his voice still unsteady with the unmistakable sound of passion. He knew he needed a little time away from Sarek to regain his composure. "My appetite, too, is diminished. However, the offering is light, and the next days will offer little opportunity for sustenance." Turning, Leonard looked at Sarek. The lips were slightly swollen, and the desire in those eyes was obvious. But Sarek seemed to have shaken off the effects of the impending fever. And, as much as he longed to take the warm body in his arms, Leonard knew this wasn't the time. He knew that before long, Sarek would be feeling the call to mate and would need him then. Also, there were things that they needed to discuss. He decided that the neutrality of a dinner table might be just the place. Besides, his throat was dry, and he realized it had been days since he had eaten anything more than just a few bites. "You're right. We need to eat while we have the chance, and something to drink would be nice," he conceded. "Then let us proceed to the dining area," Sarek stated, indicating the door with his outstretched hand. Leonard found his mind reeling with the thought that before long he would feel those strong hands on him. Swallowing deeply, all he could do was nod as he followed Sarek into the formal dining room. Arriving, he noticed that two places had been set, Sarek's normal place at the head of the table, and the other on the corner just beside him. Leonard would have preferred a bit more space between them, especially if this time was going to be used to get their plans ordered. He had found that ever since they arrived on Vulcan, close proximity to Sarek had proved to be quite...problematic, physically speaking. This time was certainly no different, he realized, tugging at the front of his jacket to camouflage what he was certain was a noticeable bulge in his trousers. Once seated at the large dining table, Leonard was pleased to see that a plate of fruits had been served along with several other foods that had been prepared. Other than the man who was sitting just inches away, anything cool and wet seemed to hold the most appeal to him at the moment. He helped himself to a few pieces of the fruit, as well as a few samplings from some of the other dishes. He had learned from his previous visit to this house that the majority of native Vulcan cuisine was prepared in such a way to be eaten with the fingers. Therefore, except for the two plates, goblets, and a few serving utensils, there were no implements. Sarek poured a glass of wine for each of them. McCoy lifted the glass and saluted Sarek before taking a large sip. The moisture hitting the back of his throat was a welcome sensation. Setting the glass down, he looked around to make sure they were alone and leaned toward Sarek as he spoke in a voice just above a whisper. "If you don't mind, there are things that we need to talk about. Is now a good time?" "You may ask anything you wish. I will hide nothing from you. And, I can assure you, there is no need to whisper, Leonard, we are quite alone." "What about Staull?" McCoy asked, hearing the roughness of sexual arousal becoming evident in his own voice. Helping himself to several of the dishes offered, Sarek replied, "He has left and will not return unless I request that he do so. I presumed you would wish privacy." It was a near smile that caressed Sarek's lips; the formality that had existed between them had melted away. McCoy watched Sarek take one of the small, crusty objects from his plate and with long, delicate fingers, pop it into his mouth. His lips closed just slightly around his forefinger and McCoy struggled to find his next breath. Sarek then took a long strand of deep orange pasta, tilting his head back ever so slightly, and laid the delicate thread on the tip of his tongue. McCoy's groin swelled and he nearly came. Swallowing and wiping the edges of his mouth with the napkin, Sarek asked, "Do you not find the food appealing?" He had evidently noticed that McCoy had yet to take a bite. Recovering his senses, and struggling to find his next breath, Leonard nodded. "I'm sure it's fine. Somethin'...distracted me." Following his host's lead, he picked up one of the small chunks of light yellow fruit and bit into it. "Delicious," he managed after licking the juice from his lips and swallowing. He realized Sarek was staring at him. "I believe I understand your distraction, Doctor," Sarek breathed. For a moment they just looked at each other. The desire between them had again grown strong. McCoy knew this was not just the fever of pon farr, but the yearning of two who had discovered each other long before the madness threatened. The madness. For the time, that had to take precedence. Considering that Sarek was still in control, and seemed to be experiencing only intermittent waves of profuse sexual hunger, Leonard speculated that the Vulcan was still in the earliest stages of the blood fever. Remembering back to the first time that Jim and he had gone through this with Spock, Sarek seemed to be at approximately the same stage Spock had been in the day they had left his cabin. The night before, they had declared their devotion to each other and decided to bond. Leonard mentally pushed those events out of his mind. To remember the emotions he felt for Spock and Jim wouldn't do anyone any good. Forcing his mind back to the issue at hand, he began to mentally make a checklist for all he would need to do in these next days. What did they have, three, maybe as many as four days before the madness would take over? It was something he needed to know. "How long will it be before the stage of plak tow begins? I'm only asking because there are some things I need to take care of--people I need to notify, equipment I'll need to gather--before I disappear for several days." Sarek had picked up his wine glass and took a sip and placed it down before answering. McCoy noticed a tinge of coloring seemed to rise in the Vulcan's face and realized this wasn't something Sarek was comfortable discussing. However, after a brief hesitation, he answered, "We shall retire to the cottage tomorrow evening, or, at the latest, the day after." "That's where we'll go?" Leonard asked. He found the thought of going to the same place they had once been with Spock somewhat unnerving. He had expected to see Sarek through this in the main house. But the purpose of the cottage was for instances just such as this--nothing breakable in sight. He decided that he would just have to put the memories of that other time behind him. "Yes," Sarek responded with a noticeable tremor in his voice. McCoy swallowed, deeply. "I'm surprised that it will be that soon. Judging by how well you're doing, I would've thought we had several days, yet." There wasn't much time to mentally prepare himself for all that lay ahead. Sarek quirked an eyebrow. "I believe you are basing this assumption on your experiences with my son. It has been Spock's tendency to delay until there is little time before the need is urgent. It is my belief that he attempts to deny the onset. It is not logical to refute the inevitable, however, it does seem to be his way." "You're probably right," McCoy agreed, successfully suppressing the brief feeling of melancholy that he felt. Remembering the ordeals they had gone through with Spock, and the fact that it was this man, this beautiful man, who had seen them through those first days, a thought occurred to him. "Will we need someone to attend us?" "It is preferable, but since this is not the first time for either of the participants, it is not mandatory. We will, however, need someone willing to supply food and drink, and I would prefer someone be in close proximity in case of injury. Staull will be available if I request him. He has attended me in such matters in the past." As well as anyone, Leonard knew the dangers of trying to handle a strong, Vulcan male in the height of plak tow, and knew he needed someone around that could help if things really got out of control. He couldn't imagine the elderly Staull having the strength for such a task. And, considering the sensitive nature of this situation, Leonard knew of only two men who he could--or would--trust. Asking Spock to help was completely out of the question, and he didn't know if he could bring himself to ask the other. Jim had already been through so much. How could he even consider asking him to see them through this? Would Jim even consent? But Leonard knew, as strained as their relationship had become, Jim was still his closest friend. In his opinion, there was little choice in whom to ask. "There is, of course, another option, if he would agree." "James." "Yes. Sarek, once he's back on the planet, I'm gonna have to tell him that I'm disappearing for several days. I'd rather not leave you alone right now, and he's the only one I can trust to bring the items I need. But this list is pretty specific. Jim's no fool, he'll know what's going on." It took a moment before he answered, as if considering Leonard's suggestion carefully. "Your selection is logical. If he is agreeable, then I will accept this choice." For the next few minutes they ate in silence. Leonard finished eating most of the food he had selected and drained the remainder of the wine from his glass. Sarek refilled it for him. Being introduced to some of the Vulcan beverages that were extremely potent, saya in particular, he was surprised by the smooth, light flavor of this drink, much milder than most wines found on Earth. He was grateful. He found that the man seated next to him was quite intoxicating enough. Leonard picked up the glass and swirled the light blue liquid, but his mind was not on the contents of the goblet. He knew there was another subject that they had not discussed: Sarek's wife and bondmate. "Sarek, about Amanda, will she know that you're entering pon farr?" "Although my bond with Amanda is going to be severed, it is still intact at this time. Whether she will be cognizant of these events is unknown. As you know, my wife has never participated in my Time. Over the years, I have become quite adept at blocking all but the strongest urges associated with the fever from her. Her close proximity, however, may facilitate some awareness." "Her close proximity? She's here? On Vulcan?" Leonard sputtered. "I thought she had moved back to Seattle." "She does not reside at our home, but she is on Vulcan, at Gol. It is true she went to Terra. She returned to Vulcan to assist Spock with his retraining." Leonard found news that Amanda was on the planet somewhat unnerved him. Certainly there was some amount of guilt, especially if his suspicions were correct. It wasn't that sainthood was anything he'd ever professed to be in contention for, nor was there any doubt that the relationship between Spock's parents allowed Sarek to take other lovers. Still, there were questions he had to have answers to--questions that were quite intrusive involving Sarek's marriage. But considering what he and Sarek would be going through in the next days, he forged on. "Why did she leave?" "By your question, I feel you already know the answer." Leonard shrugged as he pushed the plate in front of him back. "Partly. Jim said she left after you received the report of Spock's death. But that's not the whole story it, is it?" Sarek shook his head slowly. "No, it is not. Our relationship had been strained since my return from this last mission. She found it...difficult...to accept the emotions I had formed toward another." "I suspected as much. It was because of what happened between us, right?" "Not solely because of our involvement. It was only one of many factors. In these last years, we have had many long separations due to the nature of my work. This, alone, has created some amount of estrangement between us. However, when I returned this time, she was unable to embrace the changes in me. Amanda realized that what you and I shared remained a part of me, a part that I was unable to ignore. The fact that I developed emotions toward another would be difficult in itself. The fact that you and James were Spock's bondmates has made it more unacceptable." Straightening in his chair, Leonard placed his elbows on the edge of the table and tightly clasped his hands. Dropping his gaze, and rubbing his upper lip lightly across the back of his thumb, he muttered, "She doesn't want to see Spock hurt. I certainly understand that." "That is not precisely her reasoning." Raising his head, McCoy asked, "Then, what?" "My wife had feelings of trepidation regarding the bond which Spock formed with you and James." "But she seemed genuinely pleased when we came here for the bonding. And the times we've seen her since she seemed quite cordial." "Pleased that he had discovered those feelings which I had never encouraged in him, yes. I felt her happiness at that time. However, there were issues that even then caused her concern. As the years passed, those misgivings have become more predominant." "Such as?" "She has come to understand that with Spock bonded to males, there is little chance for procreation." "Children? I hadn't even thought about that. A career in Starfleet leaves little time to raise a family. Choosing Starfleet cost both Jim and myself any real relationship with our children." He paused, thinking back on the events in the last weeks. David had just recently discovered that Jim was his father, now he was dead. And, although Leonard loved his daughter very much, there was a gulf between them that he suspected would never be fully repaired. "Let's face it, bearing offspring is no guarantee that everything will turn out fine. A perfect example of that is what Jim's going through." Sarek nodded. "I agree. It is, however, a concern. When word of Spock's death reached us, she came to me and advised me that she had made the decision to leave and pursue a dissolution of our marriage." "Sarek, that's just her reaction due to grief. I'm sure, now that he's back, and certainly once she finds out that there's to be a child, she will feel differently." "I am certain that news of the child will please her. I, too, find myself unexplainably gratified by this revelation. However, as for that event changing her mind regarding our marriage, I do not believe it will affect her decision, nor am I certain that I would wish for it to." Sitting back in the chair, he continued. "I do understand her reasoning. It was my insistence that Spock adhere to strict Vulcan doctrine which led him to escape to Starfleet. It encouraged him to abandon the traditional life that she had hoped he would have. To abandon any hopes of marriage and family." "Sarek, except for Jim, I've known Spock as well as anyone. I don't think he escaped *to* Starfleet as much as he just followed his dream, his needs, if you will. As for his abandoning the idea of a traditional marriage and family, well, it really wasn't his decision. I was with Spock when he returned to Vulcan for the purpose of bonding with T'Pring. It wasn't his choice to break the bond." "An event still debated by some. It is suspected that T'Pring had felt Spock's lack of desire to bond with a female, and that was her reasoning for making the challenge. If so, it was a logical choice. Her method, however, in choosing an outworlder to defend her, was considered quite poor, and she was socially ostracized. However, Amanda's point is that there would have been no breech of the joining had he not chosen to remain in service to Starfleet." "But how can she blame Starfleet if it was Spock's own desires that caused the marriage to be challenged?" "Amanda assumed that he would return to Vulcan when the calling of the mating fever came and would then take his place in the hierarchy of the Vulcan culture. His sexual preferences would be of little concern since there are arrangements that can be made. However, he chose to remain with Starfleet rather than return to his home planet." "I thought it was you who objected to his enlisting. Now you're saying it was Amanda who was against it?" "Not precisely. It was I who stringently protested against his decision to choose Starfleet over the Vulcan Science Academy. I demanded that he follow the traditions of my ancestors and dedicate himself to his planet and his people. It was wrong of me to shun him for his decision." Leonard shook his head. "That being the case, Amanda, of all people, should understand that we have to make our own decisions. Look at the path she chose. Certainly not an expected one." "Amanda's ancestors were involved with the first Terran contact with our people. She was raised to embrace our culture. Her decision to marry a Vulcan was very much in line with her family's ideology." "I see. And she wanted the same for Spock." "Indeed." "And then Jim and I came along and dissolved any hope she had for that happening. He even returned to Starfleet after his time with the Kolinahru to be with us." McCoy reached for his glass and took another sip of wine as he began to comprehend all that Sarek was revealing to him. "And someone who kept Spock from fulfilling the destiny she had hoped for, is someone you took as a lover. She feels that I've robbed her of both her son and husband." Sarek nodded. "Unfortunately, that is the case. She does perceive you as an interloper in both aspects. It would be most satisfactory to her if neither Spock nor I would see you again." Leaning forward, he reached out and laid his hand on Leonard's. "However, what I feel for you is not so easily dismissed." McCoy felt it again; the warmth that had run through him when he had first seen Sarek in the garden, the resurgence of all those feelings he had tried to put behind him after his return from the outer rim. There had only been two who had ever been able to stir his passions in this way, until now. A small gasp escaped his lips when the warm hand covered his. The surge of strong emotion emanating from Sarek, consisting of want, need, and sexual desire, nearly undid him. "I know," Leonard whispered. "Damn, Sarek! What the hell happened between us out there? Do you know what being with you has done to me? I never wanted to hurt Amanda. I never wanted to hurt Spock or Jim, either, but I did. I hurt them both. Do you have any idea how many nights I've awakened and ached because you weren't beside me? What it was like to see that realization in Spock's eyes? I never loved anyone like I do the two of them. They were my salvation when I thought I would have nothing but loneliness. They have made me feel things I never dreamed I could. They have been my life, my center. And yet, I take one look at you, and I'm lost. I remember your taste, your touch...your warmth, and all I can think of is having your arms around me...having you against me. As much as I've tried to deny it, I find that I'm...in love with you." Sarek leaned toward him until their mouths were just inches apart. The hand covering his own rose and Leonard felt the back of the warm fingers as they caressed the shape of his face. Sarek whispered, "I do understand, Leonard. Perhaps more than you can believe. An image has continually haunted me in these last months. It is the image of you, walking across a cool compound, the endless rains drenching you, your wet clothes clinging to your body. Yet, in the face of inconceivable adversity, you turned to me and warmed my spirit with a smile and a flash of your ice-blue eyes. It was at that moment that I felt the awakening of my soul. It was that moment when I, too, realized my love for you. From that time forward, I ached for your touch. The events of the evening before our abduction was merely a culmination of all that I had come to feel for you." Chapter 21 Leonard drew a short, ragged breath and, reaching out, slid his hand to the back of Sarek's neck. He felt the touch of a finger tracing his mouth, and his own core ignited. Sarek's head moved toward him, and those warm lips brushed against his own. That simple touch sparked an emotional current, seemingly felt by both, that ran through them, searing deep into their very souls. They rode the current until the shock of the contact was replaced by something much more insistent. Sarek moved harder and more urgently against his mouth, as if he was claiming Leonard as his own. Leonard discovered he did not mind being claimed by this man. Breaking away, Sarek rose from the table and stood at McCoy's chair. Leonard looked up, and there was a flame that seemed to dance in those dark, penetrating eyes. It was a look that McCoy had seen before. It was a mixture of fear, carnal lust, and, yes, even love. He knew they had time, and now they needed to find each other while the fever was still only an impending factor. He stood and found himself so close to Sarek that he could feel the heat radiating from beneath the robe. Sarek stroked a hand down McCoy's face and their lips met once more. Strong arms surrounded him, pulling them close. The sounds of their labored breathing filled the room as they rediscovered each other. The searching hardness of their groins pressing against one another left no doubt about what they both desired. With trembling fingers, McCoy reached for the clasp at the shoulder of Sarek's robe and released it. When the kiss was broken, and McCoy pulled away, he fumbled momentarily with the simple knot holding the loosely tied belt around Sarek's waist. Only when he had been successful, did the soft fabric part to reveal the naked form beneath. Leonard's eyes were drawn downward. His gaze swept over the smooth chest, and he noticed that the olive-tinged nipples were drawn into tight, hard kernels. The muscular build narrowed at the waist and the flat abdomen led to the soft, furred groin. Nestled in the coarser, curled hair was that beautiful Vulcan cock, so proud and erect, its double ridges flared to full arousal. "God, Sarek..." McCoy whispered, as his eyes traveled up the body to meet the brown eyes. "I, too, wish to see you," Sarek whispered roughly. McCoy, his eyes not leaving Sarek's, pulled off the camel-colored jacket, unbuttoned his shirt, and slid it off, letting it fall to the floor. He kicked off his boots and had reached for the closure at the waist of his pants when he found himself hesitating. Although perhaps a bit thinner, Sarek was still as beautiful as he has been before their ordeal. Something about that damned Vulcan metabolism slowed down when they were held captive, and Sarek hadn't lost weight, at least any significant amount, during their imprisonment. However, Leonard was quite aware that he hadn't been so lucky. In these last weeks he had even begun considering the possibility that the reason Jim was so opposed to physical contact between them, was that he no longer found him appealing. Not that he ever imagined himself any great beauty, but being this thin certainly didn't help matters. Being in a room where one long wall was a series of floor to ceiling windows, and the mid-day sun was at its brightest, assured him that not a damned thing would be hidden from view. "Ah...do ya mind if we pull the curtains?" Leonard asked, becoming somewhat flustered. Sarek smiled seductively at him. "If it is privacy you seek, rest assured that we are the only ones on the grounds. There is no need for concern. I assure you that no one, other than myself, will see you." Evidently, Sarek certainly didn't understand the problem. It was Sarek seeing him, at least in full light, which was causing his distress. "Yeah...well...that's kind'a the problem," Leonard stammered. Sarek's smile faded, and Leonard was sorry for that. He loved seeing the smile that would play on that face, something he was sure few others had ever seen. "Are you stating that you do not wish for us to participate in a sexual act?" Sarek asked. "No! God...that's not what I mean at all. I want this. I want you so bad it hurts. It's just...since that first night...during our imprisonment...and after...I...well, I'm just not the same as I was. I've lost a lot of weight and I..." An arm slid around his bare waist, stopping his protest, and pulled them close. Dark eyes penetrated him. The Vulcan's voice deepened. "You think that I will find you unappealing? If so, you are quite mistaken. Do you not realize how drawn I am to you? I find you most alluring, in all ways, and whether or not your body's form is thinner does nothing to alter that fact. However, I do not wish for you to feel uncomfortable. If it is darkness you seek, we can retire to my personal chambers where all but minimal light can be extinguished for the purpose of meditation." Leonard, feeling a bit foolish, replied, "That's not necessary." He smiled, even if a bit timidly, and backed away a step. Watching every muscle in Sarek's face, hoping to decipher his lover's reaction, he reached for the clasp at his waistband and slid the tab down. Covered only by the thin fabric of his briefs, his erection spilled from the opening. Leonard slowly slid his trousers over his hips, down his legs, and stepped out of them. All that stood between him and total exposure was the lightweight, malleable fabric, distorted by the distinctive bulge of his erection. He reached for the waistband of his briefs, but Sarek stopped him by gently taking his hands and moving them away. Before Leonard could respond, Sarek lowered himself to his knees. He reached for the waistband and, running his fingers just inside, slid them down on either side of Leonard's hips. Reaching for the front, he stretched it out and over Leonard's cock, then slid the material down his legs. Holding onto Sarek's shoulder with one hand, Leonard lifted each foot alternatively and stepped out of them. His feelings of self-consciousness returning, his skin flushed under Sarek's scrutinizing gaze. He sensed the eyes as they traveled up his body. McCoy turned his head to the side. If there was going to be disapproval in those eyes, he didn't want to see it. He felt himself biting his bottom lip. "I find thee most pleasing," he heard Sarek whisper, his voice sounding almost reverent. Only then could Leonard look down into the awed face of his lover. Just one glance told him his fears had been completely unwarranted. Warm hands wandered over his naked body, exploring and learning every inch of his flesh, setting him on fire. "This is the body that I have longed for since our separation," Sarek breathed, wrapping his arms around Leonard's hips, placing his lips against his lower abdomen. Sarek held his position for several moments, almost as if he was attempting to drink in the essence of Leonard's flesh. Then when Sarek seemed satisfied, the lips moved further down. Looking down and watching every move of his Vulcan lover, the vision seemed as if it had just stepped from one of the many hauntingly erotic dreams of these last months. Almost with disbelief, Leonard reminded himself that this time he would not suddenly awaken and find himself alone and panicked in the hated, unfamiliar bed he had been occupying since their exile began. These lips that were savoring his flesh and grazing against his cock were warm and real. Any uneasiness he had felt disappeared, replaced by the joy that can only be found from being appreciated in such a manner. The Vulcan rose slowly until they were once again eye-to-eye. Sarek's eyelids closed briefly, and when he reopened them, there was such a look of love reflected from that face that it seemed to steal the last of the oxygen from the room. They came together in a bruising kiss. Mouths consumed, hands explored and groins rubbed together as flesh sought relief against flesh. McCoy slid his mouth down Sarek's neck, throat and chest. With his thumb and forefinger he tweaked those hard, responsive pebbles and was gratified by the sounds of low, guttural, throaty moans escaping from his lover. Moving down until he was on his knees, trailing a path down the torso as he went, his lips were soon nestled snuggly in the thick thatch of dark, curled fur. Bathing the area surrounding the straining cock until it was wet with his saliva, he could smell the warm, sweet scent of sex that seemed to be radiating from Sarek. His hands stroked the shaft, played along the tip--spreading the seeping drops of fluid across the smooth head--and gently massaged the thick, heavy scrotal sack. When he could resist no longer, he touched his tongue ever so lightly to the small slit and gathered a bead of slick fluid from the tip. Wanting more, his lips encased the head and sucked gently, running his tongue around the sensitive ridges, coaxing more of the luscious fluid from the organ. He felt the warm hands as they captured his head, urging his mouth to move further down the shaft. McCoy pulled the organ deep into his mouth and began to massage the tip with the muscles in the back of his throat. With his tongue, he taunted that area just behind the second ridge; the area that he knew would push Sarek over the edge. His efforts were rewarded by an unmistakable shudder that ran through Sarek's body. Leonard knew the Vulcan's orgasm was close. He increased his rhythm. Through panting breaths, he heard Sarek rasp, "I am unable to hold back...I am going to release..." With that, McCoy felt the first hot spurt of the thick, succulent cum as it shot into his mouth. Allowing the delicious offering to pour over his tongue, he drank deeply as the organ contracted repeatedly. Using his lips to massage around the ridges, he coaxed the last of the ejaculate from the slit. When he felt Sarek's hands relax on his head, he allowed the cock to slip from between his lips. Strong arms pulled him up and an insistent mouth captured his. Tongues entwined as the flavor of Sarek's passion was shared between them. Leonard was pressing his groin against Sarek's, allowing his lover to feel his need. He couldn't help but notice that Sarek's erection hadn't ebbed in the slightest. Reaching down, he caressed the length of the double-ridged cock. "The fever?" he gasped, through broken breaths of unspent passion. Sarek pulled his head back and looked at him. Through an uninhibited smile, and a voice that was deep with desire, he crooned, "Do not underestimate your power over me Leonard McCoy. For the time, the fever has cooled. It is thee who has set my blood aflame." Leonard pulled them close, kneading engorged groin to engorged groin. "I think..." he breathed into Sarek's neck, "...that we may just've just found one more point that we are in total agreement on. You've done the same thing to me." Slipping his fingers underneath the edges of the robe that was still clinging most determinedly to Sarek's shoulders, Leonard slid it down the arms and tossed it onto the closest of several lounging couches that sat along the wall. Grinding his cock against Sarek's, he sought relief. Just as he felt the ball of aching heat move from his abdomen to his scrotum in preparation of orgasm, Sarek pulled away. A tremor ran through Leonard's body with the removal of the stimulus. "Please...don't stop...I'm so close," he pleaded. "Yes...yes, you shall have relief," Sarek whispered. "But I wish to taste you." Sarek reached for his lover's hand and led them to the lounging couch that was covered by his discarded robe. Gently, he lowered Leonard onto one end of the couch so that he was seated with his head supported by the high, curved back and arm. Sarek knelt before him and, with just the slightest pressure between his knees, spread his thighs apart, and moved between them. Bending his right leg, Leonard placed his foot on the couch and spread his other thigh wide, allowing Sarek complete access to the private areas of his body. Sarek licked the length of his cock from root to tip, causing Leonard to squirm and push his hips forward. It seemed to be just the effect that Sarek was hoping for. With his finger, he gathered the drops of seeping pre-ejaculate from the tip and slid his hand underneath Leonard. Spreading the fluid around his anus, Sarek breached him with a finger at the same moment he engulfed the full length of his cock into his mouth and throat. The sensation caused Leonard to writhe and push his hips toward the edge of the couch, seeking all this man was willing to give him. He watched as Sarek's head rose and fell with each stroke of that delicious mouth on his cock. "Oh, GOD!" Leonard moaned. His fingers combed through Sarek's wavy hair, caressing the head that was bring him such pleasure. Sarek's penetrating finger located that special place inside of him and brushed against it repeatedly. It was all it took for Leonard to be pushed over the edge. He gripped his lover's head and roared, "I'm...cumming," as the blessed relief of orgasm washed through him. He arched his back and, with powerful contractions, shot his seed deep into Sarek's receptive mouth. As the spasms subsided, Sarek let the organ slip from his mouth. He looked up at Leonard with those dark brown eyes shining with nothing less than complete adoration. It was a look that stabbed at McCoy's chest. Leonard wondered how he had ever deserved such as this from not one, but three men in his life. He caressed the side of the head lovingly as Sarek bent and continued lapping at his semi-flaccid organ, seeming to savor the last trickles of fluid that he released. Then the finger inside him began to slowly move once more, bringing him back to full arousal. Only when he was fully erect again, did Sarek remove his finger and stop his careful administrations on his organ. Stretching out on the couch and turning onto his side, Leonard made room for his Vulcan lover. Holding out a hand, he encouraged Sarek to lie down beside him. Without reservation, the invitation was accepted. Lying together, they were able to take time for tender, explorative touches and lingering kisses. Slowly, at first, Sarek pushed his still swollen cock against Leonard's renewed erection. But their actions grew more intense as their bodies' demands grew more urgent. Leonard felt Sarek raise his head, and he looked up into the dark, dilated eyes. Sarek stroked his brow, and kissed him. Even through the need, the gentleness that existed between them was something quite extraordinary. "I ask for that which I have longed for," Sarek whispered. "Since our time together, I have remembered the sensation of having you move inside of me. Will you enter me?" Leonard felt the shiver that ran through the Vulcan's body. "Yes..." Leonard rasped, his own passions nearly uncontrollable. "God...yes...let me fuck you." His hands went to the still erect cock and tried to milk some fluid from the slit for lubrication, only to find that he had done much too good a job of seducing the last of the slick substance from Sarek. Leonard was leaking pre-ejaculate, but not enough to make the entry a smooth one. "I'll need something to lubricate you," he looked down and whispered, timorously, not wanting anything to spoil this. In response, Sarek placed a hand under Leonard's chin, tilted his head back, and kissed him. "I do not have any such substance readily available. However..." he stated, standing up and retrieving one of the glasses of wine from the table, "...this should be satisfactory to achieve our purpose," Sarek stated, holding the glass out to him. Rising from the couch until he was supported by one foot on the floor, the other tucked underneath him, Leonard reached for the glass and looked at Sarek dubiously. He concluded, however, that since it was a bit slicker and somewhat thicker in texture than those wines found on Earth, and because wines on Vulcan were derived from sweet-fruits that were naturally intoxicating instead of being fermented into alcohol, there would be no detrimental affects of using the liquid as a lubricant. Although this still wasn't as viscous as the substances he usually preferred, Leonard was certainly willing to try anything at the moment. Taking the glass from Sarek, their fingers entwined around the bowl of the goblet. Even this small touch sent a discernable swell of desire racing from his abdomen to his groin, causing his engorged cock to noticeably twitch. His reflex did not go unnoticed. Sarek dipped his fingers in the wine and encircled the cap of Leonard's penis with his wet fingers, using a mixture of the wine and pre-ejaculate to coat the head and shaft. After slathering Leonard's cock in the mixture, Sarek turned and knelt down on the couch, offering up that most private part of himself. Placing one knee on the seat between Sarek's thighs, McCoy caressed the taunt, round mounds, kneading and appreciating the lovely ass. He ran his fingers within the crevice and touched the small, puckered orifice, eliciting an audible sigh of pleasure from the man kneeling beneath him. He poured a small amount of the wine at the top of the cleft and let it run down to the opening. Catching the wet liquid with his hand, he pressed a finger inside, and was greeted with soft, moist, familiar heat. Pushing deeper into the flesh, he found the small nodule and teased it with his fingertip. Sarek began to push his hips toward his hand. Leonard slid in another finger and felt the ring of muscle begin to relax. Again, he stroked the delicate spot inside. As the third finger entered him, Sarek's head came back and a moan escaped from him. "Are you ready?" Leonard breathed. "Yes..." Sarek hissed his reply. Leonard removed his fingers and brought his other knee to the couch, positioning himself behind Sarek. He dipped his hand in the wine and wet his cock once more with the liquid. Setting the glass aside, he centered himself to the opening. Pressing gently, the head of his cock breached the tight orifice. When the cap was fully encased, he stopped, although his body was screaming to proceed further. Allowing a few seconds for the muscles to adjust to the invasion, Sarek began to press back against him, drawing the full length of Leonard's organ inside of him. Leonard held the hips still and breathed deeply to so they could both get used to the sensation. He bent over the man and kissed the flesh on the muscular back and shoulders. When he knew they were ready, he straightened up and looked down to where their bodies connected. He pulled out slowly, and when only the tip remained inside, he slid back in again. Feeling no resistance, he withdrew once more, and this time impaled Sarek with a quicker thrust. As he watched the erotic sight of his cock sliding in and out of the man who had haunted his dreams, he knew he could not hold out for long. He reached between the parted thighs, found Sarek's hard organ, and began to massage it. In a few short thrusts, Leonard felt the orgasm that would no longer be suppressed begin deep in his groin. Quicker, he massaged the cock in his hand and felt the ring of muscle begin to sporadically tighten around him. Sarek threw his head back and, with a groan that could only be described as unrestrained ecstasy, began to ejaculate forcefully. Leonard heard himself moaning, as well, as he pushed his cock deep inside Sarek's ass and let the contractions massage him to completion. With each quaking wave, he shot his seed into Sarek. Slowly, the spasms subsided. With some amount of regret, McCoy pulled out of the wet, hot aperture. Turning, he fell back against the opposite end of the sofa, one leg bent against the back of the couch and the other resting on the floor. There was no more need for bashfulness. Chapter 22 Sarek turned and saw his naked lover, his knees spread unashamedly before him, and he knew, even without the threatening stimulus of the fever, he wanted to take this man over and over again. He wanted to taste, touch, and experience him in ways he had no chance to during their brief time before. He offered up a silent prayer that they would have the time needed to rediscover each other before the ravages of the fever consumed him. He pulled the robe that was splattered with wine and his own semen from beneath him and laid it on the floor before settling at the other end of the couch and assuming the same position as Leonard. Leonard's eyes followed the robe to its resting place on the floor, and commented, "I'm afraid it'll never be the same. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking when I tossed it here." It was so like Leonard McCoy to be concerned with the insignificant details. "The condition of the robe is...immaterial. It will be cleaned. I believe I shall remember this day on the occasions that I wear it." Leonard threw his head back and laughed. "Immaterial!" he repeated. Obviously, his witticism, a particular form of humor he had acquired from Leonard during their months spent together, had not gone unnoticed. After seemingly being able to collect himself, Leonard looked at their surroundings, then back toward Sarek, and stated, "Well, personally, I don't think I'll ever be able to eat in this dinning room again without getting a hard-on!" "Then I must see to it that all of our meal are served here," Sarek replied, hearing the increasing seductiveness as it crept into his voice. Leonard's body seemed to react to him so easily. Sarek watched as his lover's cock jumped and a renewed erection threatened. Leonard's hand went to the inside of his thigh, and Sarek hoped that his lover would stroke himself to full arousal, even to orgasm, and allow him to observe. But there seemed to be some hesitation on Leonard's part. Not quite believing his own brazenness, Sarek breathed, "It would please me if you would touch yourself." Leonard's eyes widened in reaction to his request. "Are you sure?" Sarek was momentarily concerned that he had stepped over the bounds of their relationship. Some fantasies should perhaps remain just that. "Only if you do not mind doing so," he soothed. A seductive, playful leer graced the doctor's face. As his hand slid slowly down the inside of his thigh, he stated, "Mind? Are you kidding? You're talkin' to a real-live closet exhibitionist here," McCoy's grin widened. Bringing his hand to his stirring cock, he added, "Havin' my lovers watch while I bring myself off is somethin' I've always enjoyed doin'." "Indeed..." Sarek breathed, unable to say more. On Bakswana-7, there had been several occasions-- late nights when Leonard had assumed that his roommate was sleeping--when he would sense Leonard as he tried to quietly relieve the sexual tension from his body. He would hear the sound of skin scraping softly and rhythmically against the fabric of the sheets, and the gentle, almost inaudible sounds of flesh slapping against flesh. Sarek had always brought his hand to his own arousal and imagined that he was allowed to observe. Being granted the ability to watch Leonard masturbate had fueled his own flights of imagination in these last months. Now, almost unbelievable, that very scene was being played out before him. Leonard stroked and pulled at his penis, bringing it to its full, aroused length. Hands that Sarek knew could be so caring and gentle played roughly along the contours of the magnificent organ with the ease of a maestro. Leonard would caress and massage his tight scrotal sack, lifting it and feeling the weight, before moving back to the engorged shaft. A hand would wrap around the girth, the fingers just barely meeting due to the impressive circumference, and Leonard would stoke his organ from the base to tip, and back again. A thumb would play across the small aperture, spreading the beads of leaking fluid to form a glistening, wet surface across and around the flared head. All the while, the gaze from those dark violet, hooded eyes never left Sarek. Sarek's own penis swelled from the display. Without hesitation or embarrassment, he took his own organ in hand and began to fondle it. That seemed to stimulate Leonard that much more, as the rhythm he was administering to himself increased and became more forceful. Finding that he, too, was aroused by the eyes trained on him, Sarek began to match Leonard, stroke for stroke. Leonard threw his head back and moaned as thick streams of viscous fluid shot from the tiny opening and landed in erotic patterns on his abdomen and pubic area. Using the sticky fluid, Leonard coated his shaft and massaged himself to completion. The sight was Sarek's undoing as he, too, felt the contractions begin deep in his own pelvis that propelled the ejaculate from his organ. Most of his released semen settled on his abdomen, one stream, however, lay against the top of his thigh. Turning on the couch, Leonard came to a kneeling position and lapped the ejaculate from his leg before leaning over and capturing his mouth. Only when Leonard had completed this final, and thorough, exploration of his mouth, did he break the intense kiss and settle back on his knees. His lover's chest heaved as he replenished his lungs with that which they most desired. "Goddamn, Sarek!" Leonard panted. "The things you do to me! Three orgasms in less than an hour has to be some kind'a record for a man my age! But to tell ya the truth, I could use a shower," Leonard stated, reaching down and running his finger through the sticky fluid still clinging to his abdomen. Reaching over, Leonard traced the marching stickiness on Sarek's stomach. "And I don't think I'm alone," he added with a grin. Standing up, Sarek reached for Leonard's hand. "Then come with me. I shall find it most satisfying to bath and anoint your body with oils." "Sounds great," McCoy stated going with Sarek. "But don't expect too much until I've had a little time to rest." Stopping and turning to Leonard, Sarek gathered him in his arms. "Yes, I shall give you time to rest, wrapped in my arms. Then, we shall see." "See? See about what?" Leonard asked. "See about breaking that record, Doctor." Sarek flicked an eyebrow up as he turned once more and led Leonard toward his private chambers. **************************** Amanda sat in her room almost motionless, having barely moved since Spock had left some time before. The hour for the midday meal had come and gone; so had the signal for the evening meal; she had ignored them both. How much time had passed, she didn't know. But neither did she care. The recognition of her own imperfections had hit her hard. No, it was more than that. It was a realization that she had treated those around her, those she professed to love, in a manner that could only be defined as cruel. Her callousness had caused her to lose the only man she knew she could ever love. And it had very nearly cost her her son. The damage she had done was irreparable. Of that fact, she was certain. Just days after her arrival back on Vulcan, she had sent notice to both the Vulcan High Council as well as to Sarek of her intention to break the marriage bond. Within minutes of the notice being sent, Sarek had forwarded his acceptance. It was clear that he had not hesitated in the least. In just ten days the period for waiting would be over, and they would meet to have the bond between severed. What was done was done. Rising from her chair, she walked to the shielded window of her unit. Again, her skin felt hot and she wondered if she wasn't coming down with something. She thought of going to a healer, but decided against it. It didn't matter. Even if this proved to be a fatal affliction, she knew she could not feel more dead inside than she already did. Only the thoughts of Spock seemed to warm her soul. The memory of his determination and bravery as he had stood up to her gave her hope that at least he would find happiness once more. She wondered where he had received such courage. Certainly not from her. That had to be a trait inherited from his father. Her husband was the most courageous man she had ever known. She had seen him stand up to the Federation's most powerful enemies, armed only with words and logic, and never so much as flinch. There was not an adversary who could match him in knowledge and reason. No one who could breach that impermeable shield that he kept cloaked around him. No one...not until Leonard McCoy. What was it about that man that had reached her husband in a way she had never been able to? Perhaps it was that she had never tried. No! That wasn't the case. She had never known! Why hadn't he told her from the beginning what it was he needed? Why had it taken fifty years of marriage for him to stand up to her the same way he stood up to the most powerful antagonist? Perhaps the courage she perceived in him was not so pronounced after all. Perhaps, just perhaps, the courage she had often witnessed in her son didn't come from only his father. But could she find the level of courage needed to put an end to this? As she stood staring out over the desert, an ember of hope grew into a raging inferno of determination. Perhaps it was not too late. Relaxing her mind, she began to try to feel Sarek through their bond, however the many years they had shielded their thoughts made this most difficult. And the even stronger shields they had both put up in the recent weeks did nothing to help. She could feel his life force, but there was a barrier between them that was impervious. This, too, she would like to rectify. They had spent most of their marriage separated, mentally and physically. If she had her way, those days were at an end. The afternoon sun was disappearing, shrouding the room in deep purple and burnt orange shadows. Turning from the window, she walked to the side of her bed. It was still early. Rest. She needed to rest and get her thoughts in order. She slid her formal gown off and reached for the one she used for sleeping. But her hand stopped. She brought her hands to her breasts. The years of taking exceptional care of herself, not to mention having an excellent genetic heritage, had paid off. The mounds were still firm and round. She tweaked the nipples that were becoming hard in the cooler air and remembered the feel of Sarek's fingers there just weeks before. With more determination, she cupped her breasts and thought how it would feel to present them to her husband for his satisfaction. She remembered the times he would attempt to trace them with his fingers or his tongue only to be rebuked. Now the thought of him doing so excited her and made her aware of the dampness forming between her thighs. Could she really bring herself to touch herself there for a purpose other than personal hygiene? Slowly, she let one hand drift down her body, feeling the small roundness of her belly. It was still quite flat for a person of her age, but she wished that it was the solid, flat, hard abdomen she possessed as a girl of twenty. Lower her hand ventured, until she felt the thatch of soft fur that concealed her most private area. Sarek had touched her here many times when he had spread the lips to access her. Now she wished she had taken time to appreciate his hands as they opened her up. She felt the top of the slit, ran one finger over the sensitive skin, and felt the shivering sensation that the touch sent up her spine. She stroked the area again, this time letting one finger penetrate the slit and feel the wet folded layers. Her finger ran across her clitoris and her knees weakened. She placed one knee on the bed and began to encircle the knob with her fingertip, flicking it lightly with each pass, each time imagining it was Sarek's strong touch caressing her. She was wet, so very wet, and her fingers slid into her body with ease. Once, only once, Sarek had spread her thighs and run his tongue along her folds. It happened so quickly, that she didn't know what he was attempting until it was over. She had jumped from the bed, dropped the hem of the floor-length gown and run from the room. He never again tried to taste her. As her finger slid quickly across the hardening nub, she began to imagine that it was Sarek's tongue. What would it taste like? Wouldn't he find it repulsive? She pulled the slickened finger from her and brought it to her mouth. After a brief hesitation, she placed her fingers between her lips and sucked gently on them. The flavor, although foreign, was not disgusting, as she had assumed. It was a salty, musky flavor that was not at all unpleasant. This is what he had tried to experience. This taste, along with many other of his desires, she had denied him. Now, if he would still have her, she decided her days of denying his needs were over. If. That was the big question. Had he already found the other one who had spurred his passions? If so, could she find a way of seducing him back? Seductress was not a role she had ever played. But she knew that she wanted him, and whatever it took, she was willing to do. She wanted to be his lover. Her hand went back to the folds that now called for release. Sinking her middle fingers into her wet opening, she massaged her clitoris with her thumb and thought of Sarek. She thought of him licking her, fucking her, and of her tasting and savoring his body. In a body shuddering orgasm, she called out his name. She felt her chamber constrict repeatedly around her fingers. When the last wave had passed, she lay down naked on the bed. She reached for the pillow and pulled it to her. "Tomorrow, my love," she whispered. It was not too late. Not as long as there was breath still left in her body. She wasn't the young girl he had married, but neither was she so old that she couldn't learn from her mistakes. She knew he still found her desirable. He had proven that when he returned from the outer rim. Somehow, she would find a way to reach her husband. She would not give up, not without a fight the likes of which he had never before witnessed. Some of the courage in Spock had come from her, not just from his father. Tomorrow, she decided, she would summon up some of the courage that she was certain existed within her and find her husband. Tomorrow, she, too, would discover her past and learn her future. This was not the end. Far from it. <Finis> (Main Index) |