He felt oddly at home, although he knew that he probably would not be greeted well on his return. For a second he considered all the possible outcomes, and then he entered the door code that would hopefully allow entrance into both the building and the apartment.

And in fact the door did swing open. The code was still the same after all those months - had he subconsciously been awaited, he wondered, as he entered the cool hall. The lift was immediately there to take him up to the highest floor.

Another door. His hand drifted over the pad for a moment before he decidedly pressed the buttons. At first only silence greeted him, but then faint sounds made their way to his ears, and he slowly walked to the bedroom door.

He had anticipated a lot of things, but the scenery that opened to his view had not been part of them. A bare buttock raised into the air, and a woman admonished heavy strokes with a whip to the already welded and bruised skin. Loud moans accompanied every hit that met its goal, and like a segregated life-form of its own the two round forms shook under the impacts.

Two steps brought him to the woman and he held her hand back just as she wanted to place another stroke on her victim. She spun to face him, and he raised an eyebrow. It was not a woman, but rather a girl, and she was Vulcan.

Surprise silenced her, but not the one who turned around now.

"Spock..." Jim said, eyes wide, and slid off the bed shakily. He smelled of alcohol and sex and his reddish eyes told a story about drinking too much for too long. Nausea flooded Spock.

Jim took a deep breath to center himself to a stable stand near the bed.

"What the Hell are you doing here?" The words came out slurred, as the human visibly fought against his drunkenness.

"I'm sorry I didn't change the sheets. I also have to admit there is no welcome champagne in the fridge." Painful sarcasm danced in every syllable of Jim's words.

"I came here for you." Spock replied, matter-of-factly. That undid Jim completely.

"FUCK OFF!"

Spock blinked.

"YOU DAMN SHIT! You go away without a word and then you come back and think I'll be happy? FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU DAMN SON OF A BITCH."

The anger that now boiled up against Spock was so intense that he made a step back towards the door.

"Don't you understand me? I'll give you an explanation!" Tumbling, Jim grabbed down and fetched some empty bottles as weaponry.

"DO-YOU-GET-THIS?" With every word he flung a bottle in direction of Spock, who decided for a strategic withdrawal, pulling the girl with him. Behind them a bottle shattered on the closing door.

"Who are you?" Spock asked when they had settled themselves down in the kitchen. There was even Vulcan tea still in the cupboard, so he started to prepare a pot.

"My name is Saavik."

"Pleased to meet you, Saavik," Spock answered politely. "My name is - "

"You are Spock." It was a statement, not a question, and for a short moment the Vulcan stopped in the middle of his movements.

"What did he tell you?"

"He told me nothing. I saw it in his mind." Her dark eyes were unreadable. "You were lovers. You left him."

"An overly short, yet basically correct description," he replied flatly. "Does he know you read his mind?"

"Would if he'd think about."

Silence fell over them while he poured hot water over the tea leaves.

"And what are you doing here?" Spock asked in a second try to acquire information from that unusual girl.

"He pays me."

"He - pays you?"

"He's a client. For 2 months two days a week. Three weeks ago I moved in. He's nice to me."

Disgust filled Spock's mind, disgust and disdain for the man for whom he had come back from the planet where he had found peace - almost. A man who was now lying drunken and grubby behind that door in his back.

"What is your age?"

"I am an adult by Federation law. Nothing illegal about me being here." She repositioned her legs to sit cross-legged and started to scratch her toes, giving an image of complete innocence.

"What is your age?" Spock insisted, and she sighed.

"17. Since four months ago."

She surely hadn't started prostitution on her last birthday.

"And where did you meet him?"

Spock sat down at the kitchen table, careful not to oppose her.

"I stood in the street. He came along."

Could she even say more than two sentences in one statement, Spock started to muse, and as if she had read his thoughts she added: "He was lonely and drunk. And I reminded him of you. So he hired me for the night."

Spock closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. How desperate Jim must have been to do such a thing. His inner clock told him the tea was ready, so he got up, thankful for a good reason to move.

The door to the bedroom opened a fraction of a meter.

"Saavik!"

The girl jumped up and took some steps into the direction of the door, before Spock could grab her.

"You don't have to go."

"He pays me. It is my duty. And he needs me..." A hint of empathy appeared in her till then unmoved features. She walked ahead and disappeared behind the closing door.

Spock stood at the table, sipping his tea. And when the sounds became irritating, he went to the window and meditated.

She came out again 3.4 hours later.

"He wants to know if you are still here."

"I will stay here," Spock replied.

"He will not come out till you have left."

"Then he will have to stay in his bedroom for a long time."

She nodded in understanding.

"I will tell him."

She disappeared.

"Your coffee is tasty," she remarked as Spock and she sat on the breakfast table the next day. "Jim doesn't know how to make a proper coffee without a synty."

"I used to make his coffee," Spock replied. He was not sure why he told her that.

"I know," she said.

"You know a lot," he replied.

"Yes." She brought her knees up and embraced her folded legs with her arms. Her dark brown hair fell over her shoulders, and the long-sleeved tunic she wore didn't hide much of her body.

'She is a teenager,' Spock had to remind himself.

"Do you think he would like to have some of your coffee?" Her words broke the spell, and she became again the slightly annoying young woman that had moved into Jim's life.

"We will prepare a tray for Jim."

"Oh yes!" She jumped up and collected everything that came to her mind, turning the kitchen into chaos within minutes. Spock sighed when she left for the bedroom.

"He drank it all," she told Spock later, delivering her message in the childlike whispering way great secrets were best announced. Obviously she had started to feel like his ally.

"And I saw it in his eyes - it brought some of his memories back."

She fell lengthwise on the sofa and watched him clean the living room.

"You're doing a nice job here."

He raised an eyebrow. "You are free to join in."

"I don't get paid for cleaning," she replied, and waggled her feet that hung freely over the armrest.

"You live here, so you have duties, too"

His words made her frown for a moment, and she stopped her movements.

"You're not my client, and you're not my father. You weren't even invited by Jim. Don't think you can order me around."

Spock took a deep breath.

"Would you accept orders if I were either of them?"

Her frowning deepened, then it was superseded by a wide smile.

"Are you interested in me?" It seemed to heighten him in her estimation.

"You are interesting," Spock replied sternly, "but not in the way you insinuate."

He sat on the sofa, carefully avoiding bodily contact with her.

"Where do you come from?"

She looked disappointed. "I thought you liked me..."

"I like you, but I will not have intercourse with you."

"Why not?" Her hand made her way slowly in the Vulcan's direction.

"That would not fit," he stated and rose to his feet again, turning his back at her when he started to clean the book shelf.

"I am from Hellguard," her rasp voice tinged in the room. "The only fitting name for that accursed planet."

"I have never heard of it."

She rolled on her back, fixing her gaze at the ceiling. Her feet stretched in tension.

"Romulans raping Vulcans, Vulcans bearing children, Romulans abandon children. Vulcans come to rescue."

"And what became of the children?" Surely the Vulcans had not intended them to sell themselves on Terran streets...

"Foster system. Far away from Vulcan. I dropped out at the age of thirteen."

She rolled off from the sofa. "I will look after Jim," she said, and left before Spock could ask another question.

In the evening the smell of freshly cooked food filled the rooms when she came out.

"Wonderful," she exclaimed, as she got a glimpse of the contents of the many bowls and pans that were arranged on the table in the living room.

She filled her plate with a bit of everything and started to eat.

"Hmmm that's great."

Spock placed himself next to her, sipping his tea. They sat in silence, until she looked up with an inquiring look.

"Why do you stay?"

"It is my duty," he stated flatly.

"You feel guilty." A piece of baked potato made its way to her mouth and disappeared between her slightly green lips.

"Vulcans don't feel guilty." Spock took another sip of his tea. 'Yet you do', an inner voice said to him, one he was still determined to ignore.

"But you do," she said and met his gaze. "Is this penance that you do here?"

His eyebrow cocked up.

"I also live to repent. My whole life serves that purpose," she stated.

Spock frowned.

"What do you think you have to do penance for?"

She went silent. Spock sighed soundlessly.

"You are right," he admitted slowly, "I feel guilty. I am here to repent."

"And when will it end?"

He stared into the cup where some unfiltered tea leaves meandered like dregs. Was the goal to mend Jim's pain? His own? Rebuild their friendship? Or even their love?

"He still loves you." Her fork pierced a carrot.

"Love was not our problem," Spock replied sadly. "Obsession was."

"That's why you left him?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"I did. But as you can see, I didn't succeed." He stood up. "I will prepare a plate for him."

She gave him an sparkling side glance when she carried it away.

"Can't I have ham and eggs?" she asked with a frown the next morning, stirring in the cereal Spock had prepared.

"Although I despise ham, I would prepare it for you if there were any left. But we are running short of stock." Perhaps he could convince her to go shopping.

"Jim did all the shopping," she said, once more replying to his unspoken thoughts.

He sighed.

"But I would do it - if you beg me."

"Beg you?" His lips twitched in slight amusement.

"Yes." She met his gaze sternly. "Ask me very - very - very politely."

He gave in.

"Would you please do us the great favor of going shopping for us? I will provide the money."

She smiled.

"Thank you. I will do it."

"Men seldom ask you politely for something, I gather?" Spock was not sure why he had made this statement, but it had surely hit its goal.

She blushed in embarrassment for a moment, but then her pride took over.

"I've been earning my living for five years! I've never worked for others. I choose my clients. And most are ok."

"Like Jim," Spock replied flatly.

"He's a nice guy... usually."

"Usually?" Spock inquired with a rising eyebrow.

"He has been a bit off-key since he left Starfleet. Vacation, he called it. But all he did was get me moving in. I didn't step out of here for three weeks."

"Off-key enough to let himself get beaten," Spock said. The image was still painfully fresh in his mind. He had not been aware that Jim had such a streak...

"He wanted to make the pain go away for a while."

"I imagined whipping had pain as foremost goal."

She gave him a deep look.

"You don't know much about humans," she said and shook her head.

Spock frowned. He had achieved a certain understanding once, but Gol had left little of it. So why not use her as a resource...

"Enlighten me," he said and leaned back in his chair.

"He is in emotional pain all the time. The beating simply makes it easier to handle, since it is so physical." Her explanation came as dry as the diagnosis of a doctor.

"Substituting one pain for another? This does not sound very logical," he replied, fighting for understanding.

She gave him a shaded look and rolled one sleeve up. Spock hadn't noticed the scars before, but now he saw the many pale lines that were set parallel to each other.

"There were days in my life where all I could do was sit in a corner and cry and go crazy about my own miserable life. And suddenly I found that cutting myself made me feel better. Slowly driving the knife through my skin down to the blood vessels till a little bit of green shows up..."

She rolled her sleeve down again.

"Believe me, for emotional beings it is logical - sometimes."

She went up and started to sample Jim's breakfast. When she didn't come back for four hours, Spock went shopping.

He wouldn't have been surprised if Jim had changed the door code while he was away, but obviously neither had noticed. After placing what he had bought in the kitchen, he stepped to the windows overlooking the bay area.

They had not shared that view for a long time since they had come back to earth. Only one month later he had left for Vulcan, trying to get away from the center of his addiction. But the bond had called him back, or rather the hurt, anguish and hate that had traveled over it. He had tried to shut it off, to sever the bond, but it hadn't worked. And nobody could tell him why even in Gol this human's spirit had ruled.

A spirit dying in the room next to him now. Not in pride, but in shame, losing the last bit of dignity in a violent struggle against his emotional turmoil.

"Why didn't you think about him?"

She had appeared next to him without a sound, the reflection of her face distorted in the window.

He considered the question, like he had done so often in the last months.

"I couldn't. I had lost distance. I was falling for him, as if falling into a deep pit without any lifeline. My only way out seemed to be using an 'emergency exit'."

"You should have told him," she said.

"I tried."

"Not enough," she replied.

A streak of anger rose in him, and he turned to face her.

"What gives you the right to judge?"

"I am in his mind, Spock, whenever we sleep together."

She touched his arm slightly.

"This hand touches him... " Her hand crawled up his arm.

"These fingers caress him..." Her hand traveled over his chest.

"This body pleases him..." She pulled near, and it was only this movement that broke the spell and made Spock step back. She made a step forward, closing in again.

"When he touches me, he sees you. Won't you touch me to feel his thoughts in my mind?" Her whispered words whirled in Spock's mind.

"It's him I want, not you."

"You will get not him," she stated flatly. "He's too good at putting artificial skin over his wounds, without seeing that it rots underneath. He's still not at the bottom of his own pit."

"I will wait here, forever, if I must."

"You are stupid, Spock of Vulcan." She scolded him like a kid. "But you cook well. You can stay."

She graciously waved her hand and left for Jim.

She only came out for brief periods during the next two days, and then she looked tired and exhausted. A Vulcan robe hung loosely around her body, and it took Spock a moment to remember that this was once one of his own - so much it had lost color over time and usage.

"You need rest," Spock stated, when he prepared another plate for them.

"You should leave," she replied seriously, and a silent plea gleamed in her eyes.

She carried the plate away with a hint of reluctance.

The next morning she was fetching the coffee pot as Spock grabbed her wrist and pulled away the long sleeve of her shirt. Dark, green bruises colored her skin.

Spock felt a rush of anger.

"He abuses you!"

She flinched, trying to get free from his hold.

"He didn't mean to," she whispered.

"How long has this been going on?"

"It started after you came here," she said.

His grip loosened, and she quickly fetched the coffee.

"You will not go to him anymore," Spock stated.

She looked up with sparkling eyes.

"So I should leave him, like you did?"

"He's a danger to you," Spock diagnosed.

"You are the reason for it all," she muttered.

"It that your excuse for him?" he asked sadly. "He is long ago of age, and fully responsible for his actions."

She rushed up so that her chair fell down to the floor behind her back.

"So you were grown up enough to know what you did to him? You left without any explanation. You broke his heart. Perhaps you don't know what that means, but he does."

She sobbed slightly.

"He doesn't love me. I am just a cheap substitute. He knows, I know. And when he is with me..." her voice broke off for a second as she struggled for words, "when he is with me, he sees you in my face. And sometimes he loves you and sometimes he hates you. And actually, hate is all that he has left to defend himself against you. That's it."

She suddenly went around the table, clenching her hands into Spock's shoulders.

"Don't you know what loving means?"

Her voice trembled.

"Saavik," Spock said, trying to bring an emotional distance between them.

"I can show you what love means." She leaned down and started to kiss his ear, pressing her body onto his.

"Stop it," he said, but he lacked confidence. He was exhausted way beyond a mere physical level, and the first impressions of her mind were comforting...

"Love me, Spock," she whispered into his ear, caressing his neck with her hands, and he closed his eyes.

"Saavik!"

"You damn bastard," Jim spilled out as he pulled Saavik away from Spock.

"Didn't I tell you to leave my apartment? Get out of here!"

His tight grip on the girl made her flinch in pain.

"Jim, you have to stop." Spock's voice was like ice, and the Vulcan stood up.

"Or what?" Jim yelled back. He was drunk again. "My apartment, my girl." He started to drag her away, but a wave of Spock's hand made him stop.

"You will release her now," Spock ordered.

"Fuck you!"

It was Spock's right fist that centered in his face, and the other one that hit his stomach - after that Jim lost grip on the happening for a moment. Awakening again, he found himself on his bed.

Spock was on him in the blink of an eye and kissed him. The kiss was pure insult.

"Was that what you wanted?" he asked hoarsely, and kissed him once more.

Jim struggled against the grip in vain, hate fogging his mind.

"Let me go, you asshole. Go back to your emotionless Vulcan!"

"I'll show you what emotions I experience right now," Spock hissed through clenched teeth, as he started to tear Jim's few clothes.

"Don't you dare..." Jim hissed back.

"You made love to her with me in your mind. Now taste real life again."

And with a single movement he turned Jim around and pressed his legs apart.

"Spock, you damn fucking bastard!" Jim growled in a mixture of anger and fear.

"I'll give you 'fuck'," Spock replied and entered him.

When Spock came out of the room, he found Saavik sitting frightened in the corner of the lounge.

"We have to leave," he said, and started to pack his few belongings.

Jim appeared in the door, naked and battered.

"Spock..." He made his way slowly into the living room, completely ignoring Saavik, and finally stood before the Vulcan, raising his hands in a gesture of helplessness.

"Spock, it's ok... I needed it. Per aspera ad astra, you know? I couldn't get out of my own cycles of pain and guilt anymore." He took breath for a moment, giving Spock the chance to reply.

"Jim, I raped you. Don't tell me you needed a physical assault to feel better."

"Well, yes... somehow that was it exactly."

Spock's face was frozen when he turned to meet Jim's gaze.

"No, Jim. You took your revenge. You pushed me till I threw my own dignity and conviction overboard and ended just like you - at the very bottom of existence, the work of a lifetime shattered to pieces."

Jim frowned.

"I honestly didn't see it like that. But maybe you're right."

He fingered through his hair in cogitation.

"Yes, maybe you're right. I wanted to see you lose control. I wanted to see I am not the only one who looses his fight against his emotional war gods. But I don't feel like a victor now. Only alive again."

He paused for a moment, a living posture of defeat.

"I am sorry, Spock. Sorry for everything."

Spock stood motionless in the middle of the room.

"Spock," Jim finally whispered, "tell me - is there any chance that we can mend our wounds, now that they lie open wide?"

"Not together, Jim," Spock answered after a long moment of silence. "Only each for himself."

Jim swallowed.

"And when we do this... when we succeed, each of us - will we meet again? Will you come back to me?"

Spock knew that there was only one answer. Fate had forged them together inseparably. Whether in hate or love would depend on their own abilities.

"I will come back, Jim. I will come back when you need me most."

Jim nodded slowly. "I will give my best till then. It will take some time to become a man again of which one can be proud of." A sad smile crawled over his face.

Silence fell once more over them, in the end broken by Jim.

"Will you take Saavik with you?"

Spock inclined his head. "Yes. I intend to be her mentor."

"That's wonderful. You fit together, really. She is so much like you in many ways..."

Saavik's gaze traveled from Spock to Jim and back.

"You're going to send me with him? Don't you like me anymore?" she whispered at the human.

He pulled her up and embraced her in a friendly way. "He's a better man than I'll ever be. And he knows a lot more than I do, so you can take your chances. And yes, I like you very much, that's why you have to go with him."

He drew away from the embrace and smiled at her. "Two months with a madman are enough for anyone. Besides, I can't guarantee anything if you stay..."

The girl nodded, wetness shimmering in her eyes.

"Don't be sad. We'll meet again, Saavik," Jim said and caressed her hair.

She also didn't have much to pack.

"See you, Spock. I'll wait for you," he said when they left.

Spock inclined his head and his hand split into the Vulcan greeting. "Live long and prosper, Jim. Till we meet again."

Jim stood in the threshold until their steps faded into the night. This time the waiting would be worth it.

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