A Mother's Suspicions

First Published in Kindle My Heart #2 - July/August 2006

Amanda watched from the shadows as Spock and Sarek talked. Her son's message -- 'Tell Mother I feel fine.'-- gave her a warm rush that she quickly suppressed. Sarek believed her to be on Vulcan. It wouldn't do for him to sense her here. She knew her husband could never agree with her self-appointed mission. Sarek was still at war with himself over his son's humanity, something Amanda was certain lurked just below the damnable Vulcan exterior Sarek had forced into place-- her own complacency on the matter notwithstanding.

Her son's childhood was one of the largest mistakes of her life. Watching him try not to cry as the others teased him haunted her. She should have taken him to Earth, raised him with her people. As cruel as human children could be, they at least would have let her son be what he was. And now it might all be too late. But maybe there was still a chance. After all, he said he 'felt fine.'

Sometimes Amanda wondered what had possessed her to marry a Vulcan, move to his world, and have his son. She loved Sarek, she truly did. And with the marriage bond that had formed between them over time it was impossible for her not to know exactly how much he cared for her. More than Sarek thought was proper for a Vulcan certainly. Maybe that was why he was so cruel to Spock. Perhaps he wanted to spare his son this guilt of feeling. Maybe he wanted Spock to fit in because he himself often felt like an outsider. Or maybe, Amanda hated herself for thinking it, maybe it was selfish. Sarek's diplomatic career had taken a beating when Sybok had rejected the ways of Surak. Her own presence and then Spock's had not aided the ambassador any. If Spock had followed his brother into exile, Sarek would have been ruined. Spock's nearly exemplary, if unorthodox, career had in effect saved Sarek's. Of course, her husband would never admit such a thing. Nor would he likely even list such motivations in his meditations. Regardless, Spock had been forced to play the good little Vulcan, and she had aided in the illusion, out of apathy if nothing else.

But the short of the situation was that Sarek would blow a gasket if he knew his wife was about to try and make sure their son wouldn't neglect a certain rather humanly emotional memory should it resurface. Of course, this all hinged on whether or not her suspicions were correct and there was such a memory. If there wasn't, she could be making the second largest mistake of her life.

Amanda stayed hidden, debating her own motivations for what she knew was a foolhardy trip until her husband, her son, and Kirk had left the chamber. Then she sneaked down the corridors into the temporary housing wing where the Enterprise crew had been housed in lieu of imprisonment. She found Spock's quarters without difficulty. The hall was deserted and it took her only a short time to bypass the security codes on the panel. She smirked as she slipped inside to wait. Few people thought of her as anything other than the wife to of an ambassador. They neglected to remember that she was once a teacher—accomplished enough to draw said ambassador's attention. Her intellect rivaled her son's and her husband's, as did her computer skills. In fact, she was the one responsible for teaching Spock in his early days and tutoring him until he left for Star Fleet Academy. Sarek had been too busy. So Amanda had taken up Spock's instruction. The Star Fleet computerized door locks posed as big a problem to her would the passcodes to a child's diary.

It was several hours before Spock returned. He stopped just inside the door and switched on the lights, searching for the presence he felt in what should be his empty rooms. Her son always had been strongly telepathic. Sarek had hoped he'd study at Mt. Seleya someday. She watched him until his eyes had almost found her.

"Spock."

His head whipped around and a single eyebrow rose in what Amanda had come to know as shock. "Mother, Father said you had remained on Vulcan."

Amanda smiled at her offspring's attempt to keep his surprise out of his voice. No matter how accomplished the Vulcan, she could still read them. It had taken years to master, but she knew how to watch the subtle eye movements and inflections. It drove Sarek to distraction.

She stood up from the chair she'd been occupying and gave her stiff son a loving hug. He paused a long moment before relaxing, still not reciprocating the gesture. She released him but kept a gentle hand on his arm. "He doesn't know I'm here." She allowed him to guide her back to the seating area.

Spock regarded her for a moment and she smiled again as he stood to make tea. This man was much closer to the son she had known than the one that had left in the Klingon Cruiser. His return was welcome. "How are you, Spock?"

He waited until a tray was loaded with 'proper' Vulcan tea along with a large plate of English teacakes before he answered. "I am fine."

Amanda picked up one of the cakes and set it on a plate. Sarek had hated her habit of serving sweets with tea. It amused her that Spock had picked up on it somewhere along the line and she had missed it. Had he served Kirk in the same fashion?

Spock held out a cup which she took and added two sugars. "Yes, I gathered that much. But…" She paused and Spock seemed to almost invisibly lean forward even though he didn't move.

"Yes?"

She took a deep breath. "Spock, have all your memories returned?"

His mouth gave a minute downturn and he stiffened his shoulders infinitesimally. "Not all. My scientific knowledge seems to have returned, as has virtually all mission and duty-related information."

"But what about your personal memories?"

Spock quirked his eyebrow and his 'frown' – as Amanda called it- deepened. "Is there something you are concerned that I should remember?"

She sighed and busied herself sipping her tea. "I…I'm slightly concerned about a few things, yes."

Spock poured himself a cup and watched his mother fumble with her teacake. "My memories are rapidly returning, sometimes at inconvenient moments. I have been concentrating much of my meditation on retrieval with considerable success. By my estimation I will have recovered all necessary data within two years, fifty-one days, and seven hours."

Amanda nodded. "That's faster than I'd feared, but slower than I'd hoped."

"I concur." He watched her squirm for a few more moments. "Mother, what is causing you to be nervous? Have I forgotten some key to our interactions?"

Amanda set her cup down and steeled herself. "What do you know about your relationship with Captain Kirk?"

Spock did not hesitate. "He is my friend and my commanding officer. I have great respect for him."

"Yes, but beyond that?" Amanda set down her plate on the table next to her cup.

"I am not sure I understand the question." Spock's confusion made his brow knit.

Amanda closed and opened her eyes slowly. "Spock, do you remember anything about your relationship with the captain that might lead you to believe the two of you might have had a more…intimate relationship?" There. She'd said it. No going back now.

Spock regarded her silently for several seconds. "I fail to recall any such instances. I would consider such a possibility extremely unlikely. There would be little logic in such happening." Spock also set down his tea. He didn't bother to pretend not to understand.

"Logic doesn't always have a lot to do with it." Amanda folded her hands in her lap. "How much about your love life do you remember?" This was awkward.

Spock seemed to agree as he closed down virtually all of his small facial movements and made his posture more rigid than normal. "Mother, I do not think I find the nature of our conversation to be productive."

"Oh, it's highly productive, just not very comfortable. For either of us." She'd never had to give Spock The Talk. Vulcans were so closed off about sex that she'd been forbidden to ever even allude to such things. She suspected that Sarek had most likely handed Spock a data file outlining ritual and biological practices. She shuddered. As bad as her mother's embarrassing tete-a-tete had been, that had to be worse.

Spock didn't say anything in response. He seemed to be weighing his options for getting out of the topic at hand. When nothing suitable presented itself, he gave what Amanda thought of as the Vulcan death glare.

"I fail to see why this should concern you."

"Humor me, Spock. I'm your mother. Maybe I just want grandchildren."

"In which case my earlier point is again relevant. It would be illogical to inquire about a relationship of a sexual nature between the captain and myself along with any notion of grandchildren." The way he said the word made it sound like a foul medical condition.

Amanda sighed. "I'm aware of that. I just…I was concerned."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Do you believe such a relationship existed?"

"I have my suspicions, yes." She paused. "Is there anything you think proves me wrong?"

"The captain is well known for his exploits with the opposite sex."

Amanda snorted. "Yes, well your father's never been exactly faithful either. That doesn't mean much. Men in power tend to sleep with anything that walks through their door. You learn to live with it." She'd never honestly expected to be the only one in Sarek's life. She felt honored he was willing to share it at all. But sometimes it still hurt to know he needed more in that department than she was capable of giving him. Her old age had caught up to her and he was still relatively young. She'd accepted that.

Spock's eyes darkened at the mention of his father's infidelity. He'd suspected it from childhood, but to hear her so callously mention it..."You have stayed with him?"

"Oh, Spock." She moved from her chair to sit beside him on the couch. "I know your father loves me. I also know that he hates himself for his inability to entirely suppress that part of his nature. The fact that my health has forced him to look outside our bond for such things pains him more than it does me."

"You credit Father with considerable emotion. Perhaps you only see what you wish to."

She shook her head. "The bond wouldn't allow that."

Spock took a few seconds to process that. "You are bonded? A full Vulcan marriage bond?"

"Yes."

Spock raised his eyebrow again, and Amanda smoothed a section of slightly graying hair back behind his ear. He was aging so much faster than his father.

"We didn't plan on it." She let her hand fall back into her lap. "I wouldn't have allowed it to happen if I had known it was taking place. Only fifty percent of Vulcans survive the bond being severed at their partner's death. I never wanted to put your father in such a position. When I die…" She stopped as Spock took her hand and held it in his own. She smiled. "Anyway, your father and I simply melded once too often and one day we woke up and there the bond was. It shocked me. I'd had no training for such a thing. Sarek spent a week staying home and helping me adjust." She squeezed her son's hand. "So, I do know what your father is thinking. And I know he loves me. And he loves you. And he is proud of you, though I doubt he'll say it out loud. Although...he came close tonight."

Spock watched his mother'seyes. "You honestly think I was involved with Jim?"

"Yes." Spock nodded slowly and she continued. "The way you two use to talk. The way you acted when Sarek and I first saw you together during the Babel conference. It was, well, it was like Sarek and I use to act before we married."

"We are friends."

"That could be it." Her skepticism weighted the words. Spock leaned back heavily into the cushions and Amanda shifted him to lean against her as he had as a small boy.

"It would not be correct." Spock spoke mechanically.

Amanda nodded. "No, Vulcans wouldn't even consider it. No point in such a relationship. But you're not Vulcan no matter how much you try and make yourself. You're also my son. And humans see a point in such things."

"It is still not a popular lifestyle."

Amanda sighed. No, it wasn't, not even after all these years. But discrimination had stopped and marriage was legal, if not well respected. And after life, death, life, it couldn't be that large of a challenge. "None of which matters."

"You have no direct evidence?"

"No." She wished she had.

Spock sat back up and pulled away from her. "How do you propose I continue with this new information? Do I confront the captain and simply ask?"

"You could."

Spock looked at her with both eyebrows reaching his hairline. "Mother, think on such a conversation." He looked at her shrewdly for a moment. "Why did you not go to the captain with these suspicions? He would be able to give you a definite answer."

Amanda rolled her eyes. "Why don't you think on that conversation." She cringed. "It would go something like, 'Hello Jim, it's Amanda. I was wondering, were you fucking my son?' I'm sure that would have been an enormously interesting conversation."

Spock had never heard such vulgarities from his mother and said as much.

Amanda looked slightly sheepish. "Yes, well, I'm still getting use to the idea myself. I'm afraid I couldn't ask your father what he thought. Besides, I'm rather sure he has his own suspicions."

Spock tried to hide his surprise. "Father also believes I have engaged in such activities with the captain?"

"I'm not sure what he believes." Amanda took up her cup and drank the tea down swiftly. "When you…when you were dead…." She shivered. "Sarek thought Kirk might have had your katra. He went and melded with him to see." She looked Spock in the eye. "Whatever he saw in there, it obviously wasn't your katra. But he wouldn't talk about it. He's blocked it out of his mind and suppressed it from the bond. He's hiding something. I can tell. And it has to do with you and Jim Kirk."

"This is an intriguing dilemma. It would seem neither of us can directly ask the Captain. Father will not be any more forthcoming with me on the matter than he was with you. If such a relationship did take place, Father would think it best to leave it in the past, hoping I would not return to such illogical behavior."

Amanda did not deny that. "I'm sorry, Spock. I thought you had a right to find out. And Kirk looked so sad on Vulcan. That and your father's behavior made me think…."

"You have raised a potentially awkward issue, but you do not have anything to apologize for. You had my best interest in mind." Spock let a tiny Vulcan sized smile turn up one side of his mouth. For a moment, he looked just like his father and Amanda returned the grin full force. "I will look into the matter with discretion."

"I hope you find an answer you can live with." She stood up. "I can't stay, Spock. I have to beat your father's transport back to Vulcan, and my ship leaves any moment."

"I understand." He stood as well, and they regarded each other for a long silent moment while he awkwardly searched her eyes.

"You have never melded with either of us, have you? Not Sarek or myself." Amanda asked as Spock stared at her.

"No. I never thought it would be welcome."

Amanda stepped closer. "I'm not afraid of your abilities, Spock. Not all humans are." She gently brought his hand up to her face and kept her eyes on his as his fingers found the proper places.

It took only a single breath before she felt him softly tapping at her mind and she relaxed into the meld. She'd only experienced thiswith Sarek and an odd healer or two, but her son's presence there was peculiarly familiar. She sent him pictures of his childhood and hers. She sent him all her love and all her hopes. In return, he showed her how much he had missed her and wished he could tell her out loud. She saw in painful detail the time spent under the effect of the virus when he'd cried to the captain that he'd never told her he loved her. He ended the meld just as gently as he'd started it.

"I knew, Spock. I always knew." She took his hand and squeezed it as he lowered it from the meld points.

He cleared his throat and blinked twice before stepping back and away. "Have a safe journey, Mother. Live long and prosper." His hand raised in parting.

"I have, my son. Now it is your turn regardless how you proceed." She copied the gesture and turned to leave. Sarek would sense what had happened. She would deal with that the best way she knew how. She'd tell him off properly and then watch him sulk. Eventually he'd understand. Spock was Spock. And if Jim Kirk was part of that equation, they could no more change that than they could the chemical makeup of the stars.


"Doctor."

Leonard McCoy turned to find Spock standing in the doorway to sickbay. McCoy had returned to the Enterprise as quickly as he could to start overseeing the stocking of his sickbay. The last he'd seen Spock, the Vulcan had been returning to his apartment at Star Fleet to pack. Jim was also planet-side, or had been a few hours ago. So it was with trepidation that the good doctor returned the greeting.

"Spock." He nodded at his friend and motioned him towards his still empty office. "What can I do for you?" The Vulcan looked around the bare room with what McCoy had coined the 'I'm disgusted, but Vulcan, so I will glare unemotionally.' look. "I've not decorated yet," McCoy grumbled.

"I'm sure, Doctor, that by the time you have accomplished such a task, the room will be filled with your usual abundance of items."

Bones grinned. "Thanks, Spock. I'd hoped to get it looking like home." The Vulcan positively glowered and McCoy relaxed a bit. Whatever it was couldn't be too bad. Spock was behaving almost like his old self. That made the doctor shudder. Some of the things that had bumped around in his head while Spock soul, katra, whatever, had been hanging around had been weird at best, disturbing all the time, and damned terrifying at the worst. Which was about 80 of the time.

"Are you all right, doctor?"

McCoy looked up to catch Spock eyeing him with concern. Or at least McCoy assumed it was concern. The muscles at the side of Spock's eyes were flexed. Maybe he just had indigestion.

"I'm fine." McCoy smiled to cover how uncomfortable he still was with the pointy-eared hobgoblin. "What brings you to my humble and not yet cluttered abode?"

"Doctor, while at times you spend an enormous amount of the day in Sickbay, you do not as yet live here."

Bones rolled his eyes. "You're avoiding the question."

"You are speaking incorrectly"

"Damn it, Spock!" McCoy slammed his fist on the table. "You were a lot easier to get along with when you were dead."

Spock actually seemed to find that statement disturbing. "Was I?" His voice lacked all emotion and Bones realized how much he had wounded his friend. Vulcans. Feel nothing, then get all sensitive. McCoy mentally cursed the entire race.

"No, no you weren't." McCoy sighed and tried to look apologetic. "Just for once can you get to the point without trying to get me riled up?"

Spock drew himself up evenstraighter—how, McCoy had no idea—and with perfect calm asked, "What exactly was my relationship with the captain, to your knowledge?"

McCoy blinked at him. "He's your friend. So am I. Why would you have to ask me that?"

Spock nodded but didn't seem satisfied, and he didn't answer. McCoy motioned the Vulcan towards a chair and was surprised when he took it.

"What's this really about?" McCoy got a bottle of bourbon out of a box and rummaged for two glasses. Spock at first refused, but McCoy forced the glass on the Vulcan. Spock fiddled with it and McCoy got really concerned.

"Doctor, I require you to confirm your discretion in this matter."

"Doctor-patient privilege. First time in a long while you've asked for it." Bones crossed his heart and knocked back his glass. "It won't leave this room, Spock. You should know that by now. I'm not exactly the one who passes rumors around, that's Christine and she's not my nurse anymore." McCoy grinned, remembering his former nurse's rather blatant attentions to Spock.

The Vulcan's eyes went darker at the mention of her name and he seemed to hesitate, but he eventually spoke slowly and seemingly with difficulty. "My mother visited me. She posed an interesting question for which I did not have a clear answer."

"I thought your mom stayed home with Saavik."

"Father believed she had."

Spock waited silently until McCoy angrily bit out, "Well? What did she ask?"

"The same question I posed to you."

McCoy blinked and sat back in his chair. "Why would she come all this way to ask about you and Jim?" Suddenly, McCoy sat bolt upright and surprise raced across his face. "You mean she thinks you and Jim are…"

"More than friends, yes. She was concerned that I might have had an intimate relationship with the captain, which the Vulcan retraining of my mind neglected to replace."

McCoy couldn't stop the question. "Did you?" Spock's eyes grew even more dark and dangerous. He did not speak, but raised one eyebrow. "Sorry." Bones mumbled and shifted in his seat. "So, ahhh, why are you here?"

Spock's voice was devoid of any trace of his earlier humor. "I am attempting to ascertain the validity, or lack thereof, of my mother's suspicions."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I have not recovered all of my past memories as of yet. I can not be certain that my relationship with the captain was entirely platonic based on what I do recall." Spock hesitated. "Vulcan society does not contain any relationships of such a nature. The priestesses could have believed they were doing me a favor by removing any memories that would lead me to engage in illogical behavior, meaning anything they would deem homosexual. They…" He took a moment to reach for calm, and Bones realized exactly how tenuous Spock's grasp of control was at the moment. Amanda's visit had obviously upset him. "The priestess tampered with several of my memories and impressions. Slowly, I have been reconstructing what was damaged. I am unsure what to believe. I do not remember anything beyond simple friendship with Jim, but that does not necessarily mean I am correct in my belief that nothing of a sexual nature ever took place. There are…gaps in my memory that I can not seem to fill."

"So you want to know what I think about all this?"

Spock looked almost pained. "While I am reluctant to seek your opinion in the best of times, Doctor, I believe it to be logical to first attempt to find out what others perceive about Jim and my relationship before I inquire of the captain himself."

"I'd love to be a fly on the wall for that one." McCoy snorted. "So, you want to know if I've ever caught you two inflagrante delicto." Spock nodded, and Bones poured himself another drink. "Well, Spock. I never saw anything. I guess you're off the hook…" He stopped, downed the contents of his glass, slammed it down, and cringed. "No, I can't say that. I never saw you two doing anything."

"I gather that you have your own suspicions based on circumstantial evidence similar to my mother's?"

McCoy shook his head. "I never did till you walked in here, but it does make some sense."

"Explain."

McCoy grabbed Spock's glass and downed it, slamming the glass down next to his own. "Aw hell, Spock. Can't you just…" The Vulcan's silent look stopped Bones from finishing. "Oh, all right. There were some thoughts I had while you were bumping around up here." He tapped his forehead. "At the time, I was already assuming I'd lost my mind. But now, I think it's fair to say it was you."

Spock looked intrigued. "What thoughts, Doctor?"

Bones grimaced. "Let's just say I'd never before had an interest in Jim's ass, in uniform pants or out, or missed the old uniforms. Especially not that ugly green tunic thing."

Spock's eyebrow rose. "I find that surprising."

"Think of my shock. Now, Uhura, I'd missed that uniform." Spock glared and McCoy gave a cheeky grin. "But that wasn't all." His grin faded slightly. "There was just, I don't know. I felt better whenever Jim was there. It was strange. Then there was your reaction when you woke up."

"My reaction?"

Bones sighed. "Yeah. You didn't recognize me or Saavik, and you practically raised her. You walked right by all of us, but stopped at Jim. You knew his name. The rest of us were less than that red dirt."

Spock didn't say anything for a long moment. "Is there any medical evidence?"

"Well…" McCoy scratched his chin. "It could explain all those physicals you two shirked. I'm sure I wouldn't have missed any penetrative acts in a scan. I've outed more than a few crewmembers over the years. Didn't try to, but once it's in the record…" McCoy cringed. "Yeah, that could explain the panic in Jim's eyes a couple of times after you two went on shore leave together. I'd always wondered why you'd let him get into whatever it was he'd gotten into and was trying to hide. Didn't seem very Vulcan."

Spock seemed to ponder that information. "Thank you, Doctor." He stood up and walked towards the door.

"What, you're just going to leave? Are you going to talk to Jim?"

Spock turned around. "The next logical step, Doctor, would be to gather more information."

Bones rose form his chair and glared. "By interviewing the entire bridge crew? And leave Jim thinking he's saved you and lost you at the same time?"

"You seem to have jumped to a conclusion. There is no concrete evidence, or no evidence at all, of such a relationship ever having existed."

"Concrete my ass. You are talking to that man and finding out." McCoy came around the edge of the desk and shoved Spock out the door. "And you are going now, you blasted Vulcan."


Captain Kirk was ecstatic. He gazed around his quarters as he unpacked, and thanked whatever gods existed for his demotion. The irony was not lost on him; he simply didn't care that most people would give their eyeteeth for his former job. He belonged out here, with the stars. He'd lost his first ship, his faithful girl of so many years; he'd lost his son, whom he'd barely known, but…he had this new ship. A new Enterprise to fall in love with, to learn the feel of, to get lost in. He had his health, minus the glasses. And he had—aknock stopped his train of thought. Few crewmembers were on board yet. Maybe it was Bones with a celebratory/whining-about-transporters drink.

He keyed the panel open and was shocked to find Spock standing rigidly on the other side. His heart dropped somewhere near the warp nacelles. He missed his friend, the real Spock who had yet to really come back.

He'd almost thought that he'd gotten him back towards the end, when they'd all been in the water and the whales swam by. The old spark was in the dark eyes and that camouflaged humor and playfulness was there. Now, now his eyes were back to being hard and cold. Jim's good mood all but vanished.

"Jim, we need to talk." Kirk stepped back and let Spock into his rooms without saying a word in return. The Vulcan stood even more stiffly in the middle of the few scattered boxes that Kirk had had time to move in. Jim moved around to continue unpacking, waiting for Spock to speak whatever it was he had come to say.

Jim reached blindly into a packing crate and almost dropped the small wooden box he pulled out. Spock had given it to him when they'd returned from the first five-year mission. He'd filled it with scraps from all Kirk's torn uniform shirts. He'd saved a piece of virtually every one McCoy had cut off, Kirk had shredded, or they'd ripped down for bandages. On the inside of the lid, in Spock's perfect writing, was a note: 'Now, perhaps you will be able to retain a clothing collection. If not, I believe there is sufficient material here to construct a few patchwork pieces to get you through a meeting at the admiralty. We have both lived, now may we prosper. Spock.'

Jim gingerly fingered the smooth top before he set it down on a shelf. Spock had left for Vulcan not long after – looking for himself and finding what, Jim was never really sure of.

Spock still had not spoken, and Jim wasn't sure he wanted to hear whatever it was anyway. If Spock was leaving again, well…. Jim closed his eyes. He'd lost so much. Spock couldn't, wouldn't do that again. No matter what he was like, any Spock was better than no Spock, no matter how painful it was. The first time, when he'd left to study on Vulcan, had been terrible. Then to watch him die…

Jim had died himself that day. He'd honestly thought about following the casket out the air lock. But the ship and crew needed him. Spock had died to save the ship. The least Kirk could do to honor that sacrifice was to bring her home. Then McCoy had gone insane, or at least more insane. Sarek had picked his mind, and in the end, Jim simply hadn't been left alone long enough to vaporize himself with his sidearm.

Spock was watching every movement he made, and it was making Jim nervous. The black eyes were glittering, but with thought, not humor or emotion. Whatever Spock was contemplating, he was devoting his entire being to it.

Jim used to see the same look when he'd wake up early and find those same eyes watching him just as intently, searching for something that he always seemed to find. Then he'd give a small, sad smile, and his hand would reach out and touch those special places and their minds would mingle again. Every time they did it, it seemed to last just a little longer, and Spock seemed just a little more reluctant to break the meld. Jim admitted it to himself now: he never really wanted it to end either. But they knew why it had to. Jim wouldn't sentence Spock to a premature death with his own passing. He cared for him too much for that. But those short spans when the meld was there, shimmering between them, were magic.

That was what Jim missed most. Sarek's meld had been harsh, invading, demanding. But Spock…Spock only gave. He let himself flow out as much as he took, or more even. So much went on in that dark head, so much you never saw – except for a small fraction in the eyes. Jim ached to feel that again. To feel connected to the only entity in the universe that he could honestly say knew him. Really knew him. Not the captain, certainly not the admiral, just Jim. The man. The really especially screwed up man. Spock was the only one who didn't need him to be more than he was. Even Bones needed him to be perfect, in control, the one with the answers. Spock didn't want answers. He wanted questions. It was the scientist in him, questing for knowledge and not necessarily needing a solution to be happy. A puzzle was always more intriguing.

Jim felt Spock move closer and held still, his back turned towards the Vulcan. Did Spock pick up on his thoughts? He should have been more careful; Spock was so strongly telepathic... When they first became lovers, Spock had told him that no one could ever know. It would have ruined Sarek's career. He'd gathered that much and more was true during his meld with the ambassador. Spock had felt guilty simply being his friend. When they'd moved beyond that, it had torn the Vulcan into pieces. The fear, the guilt, the shame had eaten at him. Eventually, after he'd come back from Vulcan, he'd found peace. But it had been short lived. Death had come, and in the last few moments Kirk had wondered if that was what had really driven Spock into that engine room. It wasn't just to save the ship. It was a logical way to commit suicide.

The reuniting had obviously wiped the truth from Spock's mind. Jim didn't want to make Spock feel like a freak again. An outsider. A half-breed. An abomination to all things Vulcan, no matter how hard he tried. The pain in his friend's eyes and mind over the years had been like a knife. If just keeping this to himself meant he could spare him a fraction of that, he'd never approach Spock with the truth. Never. If only…if only it didn't hurt so much. He should be use to being alone. He'd had decades to practice it.

He turned to look at Spock. The dark eyes searched his and suddenly, Jim knew. Spock could sense the truth. And Jim could never lie to Spock.

"Jim, tell me…" Spock's voice was deeper than usual. "…tell me about us."

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