Hope Springs: A Christmas Tale inspired by Soap Opera & Shakespeare
Author: T'Riva
Series: TOS
Pairings: Kirk/Sarek, Sarek/himself, Spock, McCoy, Original Character
Warnings: NC-17, seduction; voyeurism; masturbation, drama & humor
Acknowledgements: Sent out on its own. Sorry for any little oopsies.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns these guys, I just take them out to play and don't get paid.
Summary: Sarek, Kirk, McCoy and Spock try to spend Christmas together, but a visit from Kirk's niece and a dark secret of Sarek's make for anything but a vacation.
Constructive criticism ALWAYS welcome!
Chapter One
Captain Kirk thought his anxiety would dissipate when he arrived at the cabin, but his mind kept spinning on so many things. He felt guilt. He had Spock back; the Fal-Tor-Pan had been a success. But the year since had been devastating. Spock had had so much to regain, but it appeared as if fate would leave him without solid ground to steady him.
Spock's long-lost brother Sybok appeared, put them through another hell, then sacrificed himself, opening a door then slamming it before anyone could come to terms with what could have been. Then Spock's mother died. Kirk felt cheated and angry, for himself, more for Spock, but especially for Sarek, who lost Spock and against all odds regained him, only to lose Sybok a second and final time, and then Amanda who'd rarely left his side, and now had left it forever.
The grief had been apparent in the ambassador's few haunted glances toward the cameras just after the shocking loss. He'd been in solitude until only a few weeks back and emerged looking drawn, vulnerable, and remote. The father's imposing presence had dissolved and Kirk saw fear in Spock's eyes.
Sarek had requested that Spock come to Vulcan to settle the estate; ready to collect up his tremendous experience and over sixty years of memories of Amanda and stride off into the desert, to disappear. Spock refused. Months dragged by since their stalemate, with Spock anxious and uncommunicative. But McCoy drew Spock out and their closeness grew day by day, until the doctor was no longer the satellite of Kirk and Spock, but he became the satellite of Spock and McCoy, and his orbit seemed only to expand with time.
The two were even now talking and walking as they had so often in the last months, but around the large lake behind the cabin, instead of through the streets of San Francisco. Kirk knew he was being selfish, but he'd never felt so alone. He knew he only had to call out, but he'd never had to before. Spock had been redirected, as Kirk had been so often with the ladies, leaving Spock alone. So perhaps, it was fair. It might settle back to the way it had been, someday.
But that didn't help Kirk now, during the loneliest time of the year, after the most traumatic year of their lives, he felt abandoned. He realized he must be feeling some shadow of Sarek's pain. But Kirk's lesser dose of grief was likely only temporary. At least, he hoped.
Kirk started to feel drawn to the other abandoned one that had finally returned to Earth, for his discussion with his son. Spock would be relieved to see his father alive; a Christmas present Kirk would bring his closest friend. Perhaps Sarek might find connection enough between him, Spock and McCoy to continue. Grant his son and friends a lasting present that would make this trip and reunion, so worthwhile.
~ooOoo~
With the approach of the black aircar with polarized, hyper-shielded windows that hid the interior, some of Kirk's concern and loneliness dissolved, his apprehension and restlessness now at least felt directed. He straightened to parade stance and brushed invisible lint from the front of his turtleneck. The flutter that always inhabited his stomach around Ambassador Sarek had returned.
He'd thought by now he would be used to the man, but at least he could by now carry on comfortable conversation and enjoy his company, once he relaxed around him, that is. He regretted not having had a Scotch or two, but realized Sarek would likely smell it on his breath and wonder about Kirk, if not about the sensibleness of his visit altogether.
Kirk saw the sleek, unmarked diplomatic aircar settle along the side of the ragged lane. He could imagine Sarek turning off the impulse drive and release the safety harness. Imagine him glancing toward the cabin with some querulous thoughts about what he was doing, and concern about stepping out into that bracing cold with gusts tossing swirls of snow off tree branches and rooftops. The sky darkened ominously as dark clouds blocked the sun.
Kirk ran to the fireplace, lobbed a few of the larger logs onto the pile already burning; stoked it until it roared. He would offer Sarek the master bedroom, and as a private place for both Vulcans to meditate. He wouldn't mind the couch; he would feel less lonely at the social intersection of the cabin. He filled a mug with boiling water. Tossed in some of the newest Vulcan tea he'd found into an old-fashioned stir sieve to steep. He donned his parka and gloves, ready to run out and help the ambassador with his belongings.
He checked through the transparent steel windows, noticed the aircar door still sealed. Ambassador Sarek might have been on an important call. He felt disappointed and anxious at the thought that Sarek could be called away last minute just as he'd arrived. Started to realize just how much he wanted Sarek there. He'd been curious, of course, to interact with the man on a personal level, or at least in a less formal setting, but he'd mainly invited him for Spock's sake and to show Sarek that others cared and needed him, if that might help.
The door still didn't open as Kirk noted minute by minute passing. He wondered if Sarek had noticed him peeking out, or if he thought no one noticed him arrive and was having second thoughts. He had to wonder, absurdly, if the ambassador might just sneak off after traveling across the country. Kirk's anxiety grew. It wouldn't be logical, but somehow, as when Sarek had faltered at such in regard to his son, he might also falter with the loss of his wife.
Kirk strengthened his resolve to collect the perhaps reticent Vulcan . He pulled open the front door and tromped across the ice-packed, hardened dirt and gravel that marked the end of the lane and leaned toward the driver's window he couldn't see through. It didn't open. Kirk began to worry, since Sarek had to be quite distracted not to notice him approach, or Kirk's face at most a few feet from his.
He thunked his gloved knuckles lightly on the window. After more than a few moments, the window slid silently, away, releasing a torrent of heat and revealing Sarek looking a bit surprised, concerned and perhaps even guilty. Kirk was amused to see Sarek already in a wool cap and scarf over his very human-looking parka, wool sweater and jeans. He had to remind himself that Sarek had spent many holiday seasons with Amanda's parents and so had adapted.
"Captain, is everything alright?"
Kirk smiled. "I was going to ask you the same, sir." He stifled an uncomfortable chuckle.
"You need not be so formal." Sarek had sounded tentative, then looked away, "I was…otherwise engaged."
Such an ambiguous statement. Just what had he been doing in there? The comm unit was not in use, in fact it was completely dark. Kirk hoped Sarek hadn't driven through such a harsh environment with it off. If the rugged terrain didn't kill a crash victim, the cold, even more dangerous for a Vulcan, certainly would. He didn't think a logical Vulcan would be that foolhardy.
"Having second thoughts?" Kirk said lightly, his warmth shining through. "You can leave whenever you like, there's no required length of stay."
"It was not myself I harbored concern for," Sarek admitted. "Certainly my…reticence and reserve will not comport with the usual 'season of joy'." The reference to the holidays had sounded clipped, almost sarcastic.
"I think camaraderie and support is the most any of us could hope for this year, and you've lent more than your share already," Kirk said. "How long did we stay at your place? Would you refuse us the chance to reciprocate?" He'd said much the same when he'd coerced Sarek into coming. He felt little guilt under the circumstances. Sarek needed to be around those who cared, especially near his son. He needed to be brought into a new fold rather than allowed to drift off into a void.
Sarek looked nonplussed and a little surprised at Kirk's repeated not-so-subtle emotional blackmail. Could he read Kirk's anxiety behind his tight smile? "You are usually persuasive, Captain, though I do not comprehend your present motivation."
Kirk grinned. "I'm not so sure myself, sir." That had been a baldly truthful statement, surely undiplomatic, a little of his soul on display. But such seemed to affect Sarek, a man who prized sincerity above most things, who was as often undiplomatic in order to succeed, ironically, with his diplomatic end. Oddly, Kirk felt more secure with Sarek close by, though there was no threat obvious. Perhaps he just missed the bulwark father figure he'd grown used to on Vulcan those last months there.
The ambassador had fought for him as if he were his own son, and for the rest of the ex-Enterprise's mutinous skeleton crew. Spock as well as McCoy would have been lost if not for Sarek's singular stampede to Kirk's San Francisco apartment that one late night, when Kirk met the outraged, grieving father instead of the distant, formal ambassador.
They owed him much. Likely he felt he owed them, especially with all that went wrong-the loss of his ship, his son, almost his career but for the bizarre timing and coincidence of the drone on the verge of destroying Earth. But he couldn't imagine going back to having lost Spock, no matter the cost.
Perhaps it was a debt Kirk felt toward this man who now seemed in need himself. He wanted to help, to console, to better this Vulcan's existence as he'd done for Kirk, but there was something more he couldn't identify. He found he looked closer at this Vulcan, wanted to see him more clearly, see him as he really was-the essence of him that Amanda had seen. But why should he suddenly be driven to feel so? Questions, among many others, he hoped to answer this holiday.
Sarek bristled and shivered at the influx of cold. "If you call me Sarek, I will at least stay a short while. I have seen little of my son, and your company and the doctor's would not be unwelcome." He didn't meet Kirk's eyes. A strange, almost vulnerable, avoidance.
Kirk was surprised by the admission, but likely Sarek felt the need to verbalize his feeling of welcome. Kirk almost echoed his missing Spock himself, but the elder Vulcan had more than enough to deal with. That selflessness surprised him, as did the depth of his compassion for this Vulcan now.
Sarek released the cargo hold door and together they hauled in the many well-stuffed hover-bags, some from well-known, exclusive restaurants, others Sarek explained held the embassy chef's attempt at many of Kirk's, Spock's and McCoy's favorites of Amanda's dishes. Kirk bit back the jab of sorrow at the reminder but thrust away his reaction before Sarek might notice. He smiled instead at the prospect of five-star fare and some quality 'home-cooking' in such a remote and beautiful backdrop.
"That's a lot of food!" Kirk didn't hide his appreciation in the least. All was stored in stasis travel-boxes-they would stay as fresh and at the same temperature as when they were closed up, and could be left out of the cabin's only kitchen stasis box, which was already jam-packed with the fresh produce the Vulcans would require and the humans also would enjoy. They would eat like kings!
Sarek looked a little self-conscious. "It is the least I can do. Even Ichaya would not consume my culinary attempts." Kirk couldn't help but smile at the thought of the mammoth garbage disposal of a pet he'd seen pictures of, and heard so many stories of, turning up his nose at Sarek's cooking. The often stiff, formal man was beginning to let his guard down. Likely quite out of his element surrounded by chest-high piles of snow and bristling, volatile weather.
Even before they were halfway to the house, Kirk noticed Sarek shudder. The weather had been quite mild up until that very day. He only hoped it would soon return to its earlier temperateness. He brought Sarek to the couch and surprisingly met little argument as Kirk collected the rest of his things from the aircar and secured it. He was more concerned now. Sarek rarely if ever allow another to take on what he considered his obligations.
After everything was brought in and the aircar secured, Kirk brought Sarek the mug of hot tea and settled in on the opposite side in front of the roaring fire. Sarek looked a little dazed and quite tired, Kirk noticed. His face and even his broad shoulders had thinned. His cheekbones were more pronounced so that he looked more like his son. He had heard that a Vulcan's extra weight tended to increase his muscled chest and shoulders and not the waist fat as in most human males. Spock's added weight had seemed to evenly divide between the two, as if in compromise between the two halves of his heritage.
He also noticed how human Sarek looked in blue jeans, flannel shirt and hiking boots. With the thermal hat still covering his ears and most of his eyebrows, one would have to know he was Vulcan to recognize the differences-the sharper cheekbones, the slight tint of olive in bronzed skin a few shades darker than his son's, the slightly thinner hips, the more muscled chest, shoulders and arms of the middle-aged Vulcan male that Spock had only recently started developing.
Even Sarek's eyes glinted gold and green, correcting Kirk's assumption of them being just a lighter shade of Spock's sable brown. Kirk had always recognized this Vulcan's rugged handsomeness, but never felt comfortable looking too closely. Such just seemed too intimate for such an esteemed man.
He remembered further differences underneath the almost human-seeming exterior. What appeared to be little room in the groin area of the jeans for the somewhat larger genitals, and he had heard of somewhat more pronounced and doubled ridges, which made even a partial erection on a Vulcan male all too apparent in their unusually thin pants they commonly wore during the peak of the summers.
He'd heard that the thin pants in the summer had become a tourist attraction in itself since Vulcans, though more private in their show of emotions and daily affairs, were less modest with, or less self-conscious of, their bodies and mode of dress.
Though Kirk had noticed one quite explicit picture his niece had cut out from People's 'Sexiest 100' of Sarek about ten years back that left very little to the imagination. He had been almost unclothed, for him, on a mission to a planet as hot as Vulcan and walking along the beach, in very thin, tight off-white pants, with Amanda. He appeared quite filled out below with an erection and appeared unconcerned. Perhaps the beach had been deserted or private and the photographer hidden.
He smiled at his childish resentment of Sarek's long-standing attractiveness and the strange turn of his thoughts. He almost laughed at how jealous his niece would be if she discovered where her long-time heartthrob had been for Christmas. At 17 now, she was a force to be reckoned with. He remembered her inquiry about who would be joining him at the cabin and her not-so-subtle inference that she needed to get away from her mother and stepfather.
Now he only had to hope that Jane would not get wind of Sarek being there. He could not trust his young, exuberant pup of a niece not to cause trouble-at 17 physically, but about 13 emotionally, she was trouble anywhere she went.
"Spock and McCoy went for a walk around the lake," Kirk explained before Sarek could ask.
Sarek looked surprised and somewhat concerned.
"They're bundled up well." Kirk smiled. "It has become a habit of theirs, these daily walks." He realized there was a bit of resentment in his tone he couldn't quite quell. "And the weather seems to have taken a temporary cold turn as of today. Likely it will clear up by tomorrow."
Sarek looked at him several beats longer, as if sizing up Kirk and his tone. "It would seem that my son's hybrid nature has provided another advantage. I don't know if I could make it around the lake in this weather."
Kirk had to wonder how much of that had to do with Sarek's present condition rather than his full Vulcan physiology. "You do look tired."
"Yes," Sarek said. "But I am not sure that resting will resolve that."
Kirk could only swallow at that.
Sarek looked back at Kirk as if he had made some decision. "I think Spock will take some time yet to find his way back to the man that he was." His eyes held Kirk's a long moment. "One never forgets important relationships." Kirks saw the pain in Sarek's eyes. How applicable the same was for him now.
Kirk realized that Sarek had somehow gleaned his biggest fear and was trying to console him. He smiled at the elder Vulcan who had brought him some hope. If only he could find hope for Sarek, too. It was why he had chosen this rental from the long list of renovated-rustics available in these coldest months-it was only a quarter mile on a beautiful trail to Hope Hot Springs. He anticipated they would all make the trek to it and sit for a long soak together. The weather would have to change for Sarek even to step out onto the porch, however, even with its outdoor fireplace roaring between all of the chaise lounges.
They talked comfortably, about many things unimportant, both steering the conversation away from the more turbulent waters of their lives. The more interesting and important topics seemed off-limits, until at least he could fathom a way to ease toward them: whether Sarek would remarry, how far away his next pon farr was (he remembered that Vulcans had to endure it sometimes beyond 170 and Sarek was only into his 120's, just about the equivalent of Kirk's own age of 50). He wondered about options besides marriage, and curious about Sybok, and Sarek's prior marriage, which he'd never read anything about, as if the media had been leaned on in much the same way as they had as soon as Spock passed his Kahs Wan and literally dropped off the radar. Kirk could only wonder how that was accomplished. Sarek glanced back over his shoulder every now and then, until Kirk decided on the best way to reassure him.
"They shouldn't be long now," he said. "This will actually be their third trip around the lake in as many days."
"I wasn't questioning your lack of concern, Captain," Sarek said. "I would know if my son were in danger by my parental bond."
Kirk felt surprise at that. He'd thought they'd both subdued that over the 18-year separation.
Sarek almost smiled. "A constructive side-effect of my assisting in my son's Fal-Tor-Pan."
Kirk remembered his own meld with Sarek at his apartment. It had been an eye-opener. Where he had always assumed that Sarek had suppressed his emotions enough not to respond to events, instead he found a torrent of unbridled grief, rage, frustration among many other emotions, even relief at the possibility of finding his son's katra and lust, he imagined for Amanda, were barely kept at bay by Sarek's ravaged emotional controls.
He could only imagine what Sarek had wanted to do to him when he opened the door with drink in hand to what looked like a party not long after Spock's death, understood fully with some perspective how the atmosphere of drinks and camaraderie, even laughing, he remembered, had looked to the distraught father.
He had better understood Vulcans with only that vague brush with Sarek's mind, and realized how judgmental he had been. He'd always assumed that most of the emotion he felt from Spock during melds had been due to his human half. For all the pompous claims of superior-feeling humans touting that Vulcans need not take such drastic measures as to attempt full control, he realized that most beings had no concept of what Vulcans wrestled with each and every minute of their lives.
Sarek still watched him, Kirk realized. "My son does not know that you invited me," he said sadly. "I should not stay long then."
Kirk frowned as he deduced that Sarek must have realized Kirk's attempt to surprise Spock and McCoy by his son's lack of emotion commensurate with soon seeing his father again. "I think he will be pleased, sir." They seemed to be slipping back into formality again.
"Do you?" Sarek asked, his tone sounded almost hopeful yet still concerned. "Or will I only be a constant reminder of what he has lost?"
Sarek stared into his tea, thoughtful. "If he is…pleased, I shall stay. If not…my son…we all…have been through too much to add further stress to your…holidays." A tone of irony that Kirk read as a sad reckoning to all the misery they had endured. How could there be celebration?
Kirk saw Bones and Spock approach the back porch. They seemed to be standing closer than he thought they would be, and talking in softer tones than he'd ever heard them use together. He wondered if as their minds brushed against each other when both housed in McCoy, had they both mellowed with understanding as stones smooth each other in a stream. He should be glad, but he missed that closenesshimself terribly.
They stepped in and both looked surprised as Sarek turned. McCoy grinned widely. "Well, well, Dad's here!" He looked particularly pleased to see the elder Vulcan. Spock grimaced at McCoy, some of the old irritation back suddenly. Kirk smiled, but was more surprised and pleased by the undisguised warmth and concern in Spock's eyes as he regarded his father.
Sarek stood, not so steadily, as both McCoy and Spock looked concerned and stepped forward. Spock stepped up for the familial embrace and, almost immediately, asked that everyone sit rather abruptly, likely for his father's sake.
McCoy piped up his usual, "How 'bout drinks all around? And I'll fix dinner! I've got some bottles of saya…"
"That would be welcome," Sarek responded, sounding more at ease.
Kirk felt irritation with himself. He'd not even thought to bring saya, even though he knew both Spock and Sarek enjoyed the alcoholic beverage prevalent on Vulcan. Was he that self-absorbed? Or just overwhelmed and distracted by all that had happened, was happening?
They drank and talked until dinner was prepared, or rather unboxed, as McCoy was directed to the five-star meals within the piles of stasis boxes heaped about the counters.
The dishes were delicious and well-chosen-a hot, spicy, moist and savory h'renvoh, a risotto-type casserole of Vulcan grain similar to Africa's couscous with mixed mushrooms, nuts and rich heady cheeses, also of Vulcan, the mixture of which smelled almost identical to steak; a light mix of lettuces, tomatoes, olives & peppers (all popular imports and now locally grown in Vulcan 'greenhouses') with a tangy light dressing the Vulcans dubbed together Terrasen Salad (meaning "appreciated of Earth"); and nilgah, a sort of frittata of an egg-like base mixed with BBQ'd root vegetables similar to potatoes and onions, that had a piquant yet rich flavor of malt vinegar and caramelized onions with a touch of cayenne pepper, which had become very popular as a breakfast dish for humans to Vulcan's chagrin, since in its dried form it was a portable snack for outdoor performances, much like the human's popcorn.
The conversation was relaxed and free flowing all around as the winds outside howled and roared, but Sarek looked as if he was beginning to fade during the bittersweet chocolate-cognac mousse that had been Amanda's specialty dessert for celebrations. McCoy casually and subtlety, with the many years of practice with patients, directed him back to the couch as the others dispersed around him and continued their conversation.
Sarek's input seemed to fade as the next hour went by; his normally articulate and sophisticated asides and commentary slimmed to short and less focused until they realized he'd fallen asleep supported by the tumble of pillows off at the end of the couch. Silence descended at the unusual occurrence.
McCoy smiled.
Kirk looked at McCoy suspiciously.
"I did nothing but refill his drink a few times. He looked beat when we came in this afternoon; I'm surprised he lasted this long, to be honest."
Spock only stared at his father, as if he'd never seen him asleep, one eyebrow arching at the incongruity. Kirk had to admit the elder Vulcan looked serene and vulnerable, almost sweet, with his hair a bit rumpled into waves and his face relaxed. He couldn't help but smile, watching him.
"We could cover him up and let him sleep right here," McCoy offered.
Kirk shook his head. "I think he'd be more comfortable in the privacy of the master bedroom."
Spock stepped forward and gently laid his hand in the meld position on Sarek's face. "He is rather deeply asleep, but I will deepen it further so I can transfer him without disturbing him."
Spock lifted and carried his father into the bedroom with McCoy and Kirk following. Spock and McCoy talked in hushed tones for a moment then began to remove Sarek's clothes. Kirk felt strange viewing the son and doctor doing such. He didn't know why. Spock noticed Kirk's discomfort and looked confused. "I have had to do this for my father before, to help my mother. Nudity is not so unusual between Vulcan family members as it is between human."
Another cultural distinction, Kirk realized. Of course, with the requirement of Pon Farr plaguing all males with the only option of death, perhaps less stringent lines were pragmatic. He'd heard it was sometimes necessary, though rare, for a family member to step in to save a loved one during such.
Spock seemed almost uncharacteristically to prattle on, as if to reassure Kirk, which seemed odd. "My father showered with me when he first taught me to use a water shower when I was eight. My mother had said it was…adorable…and threatened to take a picture of us." Kirk grinned, imagining how embarrassed Sarek and Spock would have been to have such a photo exist, and realized, whatever Spock's intention, Kirk had actually become more comfortable.
Still, he had to wonder why Spock was trying to make Kirk more at ease around his father. Perhaps he also sensed that his father needed to be kept closer, that their threesome could become a foursome with him. It warmed him to consider the prospect though he'd thought that it might make him feel even more apart from Spock, his relationship to his closest friend even more diluted with the larger group, as if a spoke on a wheel he'd always been the hub of.
As the last layers were gently removed and Sarek lay naked between tender hands, Kirk felt his discomfort rise and realized he was staring at a length of naked, sculpted thigh and buttock he could spy between McCoy and Spock before they slipped the covers over him. He felt himself harden and turned abruptly from the scene, hoping neither man noticed his sudden and obvious erection.
This was hardly conducive behavior to his characterization of Sarek as a father-figure. It could be quite embarrassing if either McCoy, or worse Spock, should notice. He was renowned for his womanizing, and Sarek was practically family, not to mention Vulcan, very male, as well as quite dominant! He doubted Sarek would appreciate being viewed as a sexual object by him.
It confused him completely as to why he would suddenly be thinking of Sarek in a sexual way. Perhaps in his strange desire to get to know the elder Vulcan better, the barriers of his being the "ambassador" and "Federation council member" were slipping away without the accoutrements of office about him. They were also on holiday and relaxing more about each other. Something neither Sarek nor he were often allowed. Perhaps it was his own competitiveness? Seeing Sarek as a sexual conquest to beat all and somehow taking advantage of his temporary vulnerability to feel dominant of him? He certainly hoped he would be above that at least!
With Amanda's recent death leaving Sarek vulnerable, perhaps he was viewing Sarek more as a living, breathing being rather than a mighty obstacle or bulwark? Perhaps it was just his ever-ready lust trying to sort out the confusion of recent events in a more ordinary form for him. He had to smile at how Sarek might respond to his confusion remedying itself by the possibility of screwing him of all things. And he had been worrying about his niece? He shook his head and chuckled at his libido coming undone in the beautiful mountain paradise. But wasn't it almost any human's fantasy to have a Vulcan, though he'd assumed he'd set his sights on one of their petite, female variety.
Kirk remembered the heavy wool blanket that he'd meant to add to the layers to make sure Sarek wasn't chilled and retrieved it from the closet. He stepped in as McCoy and Spock were stepping out and lay the additional blanket over the sleeping Vulcan, still feeling disturbed at the intimacy of such, but not sure why. Still feeling compelled to stand longer than he should at his bedside for no reason, curious even to brush his fingers down Sarek's check as he slept. He started to reach, but stopped himself as suddenly. Why would he feel such an odd compulsion?
He turned to find Spock watching him with an odd look, as if trying to put together a puzzle without quite enough pieces. A slight smile graced his lips. "Father will be in better health with adequate sleep and regular meals." Here Spock sighed. "He has not slept well since Mother's death. Perhaps tonight he shall." Spock's voice sounded somewhat sad but hopeful, but he schooled his features so that his father would have been proud. Kirk thought that interesting since his father would never know. Kirk turned off the light and the moonlight bathed the room in a blue-white glow. An owl called out in the distance and the wind quieted, as if to allow Sarek a peaceful night's rest.
As he slipped the door closed, the chiming of the comm. system caught Kirk's attention and he headed for the dining area to answer. With a quick check he noted it was well after 10pm and wondered who might be calling so late with more than a little irritation. Then with apprehension, he worried that it might be an emergency from the embassy. He ground his teeth and hoped he was wrong; he didn't want to awaken Sarek after he'd been so exhausted. He especially didn't want him traveling in that condition, but he would have no way to prevent him from doing exactly that.
The screen lit up with the face of Jane, smiling a little too much and her eyes a little too hardened. Kirk swallowed; she wanted something, and he could guess what it was. They dealt with the preliminaries in short order. Jane's were a little rushed, her tone a little fevered. He didn't even bother to remind her of the time difference-she was a teenager, and if she realized she had imposed, she would forget the next minute anyway. Almost immediately, she asked who'd shown up.
He stifled the urge to sigh and forced a bland expression. "Just the usual suspects," he said and tried to change course by inquiring into how things were in San Diego. She would often start ranting about her parents and forget her original question. He noticed that McCoy looked curious, likely as to why he was being evasive. He blushed at the truth of how childish, forceful and yes, seductive she could be, and how he didn't trust her around Sarek. It would not be fair in the least for him to have to deal with her delayed adolescence, and clumsy, juvenile passes on top of everything else.
But she was like her uncle, a dog with a bone. She wanted names. Numbers to be exact. She wanted an excuse to find a vacancy so she could escape 'her evil parents' who likely wanted her to spend some time with them instead of clubbing 'til all hours. Luckily, with the present senior officers' history of rarely intersecting with Sarek due to each of their constant travels, she would never have guessed Sarek was there. But neither did he want to damage his relationship with her by lying outright. She could be so impulsive, and he wanted to feel secure that she wouldn't do exactly as she pleased, as she too often did.
But now she was suspicious after he reminded her of how late it was and how they were dog-tired and headed off to bed. He gave the usual line of never knowing how much time he would have with them, which he immediately regretted. Her lips tightened at that-she was thinking the same for herself. Kirk could have, should have, visited more often, and they both knew it.
"How is Spock doing?" She asked, sounding completely sincere. He knew what her next question would be however and felt himself tensing, more irritated.
"He's doing okay for losing his mother," he said softly. He noticed Spock didn't even look his way, but his eyes closed at the reminder.
Here it comes, he thought.
"And Ambassador Sarek?"
He forced down his anger at being used to pursue her obsession. "As well as can be expected…I suppose," he realized that the last had been appended after a bit too long a delay.
He noticed Jane's eyes narrowed at that. He hoped she wouldn't inquire further about Sarek, or the jig would be up. He put on his annoyed and tired 'uncle' face that tended to dissuade her from pushing the matter. He had not told her not to come, but she was mature enough to realize what an imposition it could be, especially to thrust him between her and her parents, who were decent and kind if only a bit strict. But they also would be supporting her through college and so she likely realized she had quite a good thing, better than most had, even himself at that age.
She left it at that, hopefully to get drawn into the dizzying Christmas festivities that he was glad to be apart from, this year especially. McCoy and Spock slipped off to bed, though he noticed both still had questions in their eyes. They would be asked, he realized, but at least not until breakfast. He headed for the large, comfortable couch, pleased to notice the fire still roaring. He fell asleep in a matter of seconds.
-ooOoo-
Kirk jerked awake, from noise he discerned but his memory and perception of it not clear enough to know. He thought he heard knocking, but blunter; as if there was work being done on another cabin nearby, had there been any others close enough. But the fire was still burning steadily, so it could only be about midnight or so, and it was still dark. The whole cabin seemed almost to shake with the dull thudding. Luckily, no one else had been awakened yet. He stepped through the living area and toward the hall trying to decipher the sound's location.
He stopped outside the master bedroom door, concerned because they had left Sarek in there fast asleep. What the hell could he be doing? Or somebody doing to him? His heart sped up. He wrapped on the door, but no response came. He turned the doorknob as quietly and slipped the door open, and peered through the moonlit room toward the bed.
The bed was banging into the wall, and with some force. Sarek was on his elbows and knees, thrusting. Kirk could clearly see his length of sculpted thigh and buttocks flexing. What the hell? Someone much smaller was beneath him, almost fully covered by his body, being held down, also naked. Sarek was having sexual intercourse with somebody! The shock of that, out of the blue, was as confusing as who could have shown up in the middle of the night.
Kirk thought to turn away quickly, but was too confused as to who could be there with Sarek and why they were having what appeared to be loud, enthusiastic sex in the middle of the night. The light waves looked like Amanda's. His stomach clenched. She was dead! What the hell was going on? He braced against his instincts to leave quickly, and instead, stepped closer, as they both seemed too distracted to notice him anyway. He had to know.
Sarek increased his tempo, pounding harder into the sprawled body beneath him. He was moaning now, his breathing ragged, obviously close to climax. Kirk's face flamed with embarrassment, he wanted so to back out, but he had to see the face. Felt compelled to understand, when suddenly…
His niece looked out from beneath Sarek's chest, with a big smile and said, "See, Uncle Jim! I told you he'd like me!"
Jim jumped at that and fell face first onto the floor beneath the couch. He noticed the fire was long dead and that dawn was just breaking, the soft pinks and purples painting the room. A nightmare. It had been only a bizarre and unsettling nightmare. But then he heard a soft moan-Sarek, and then he heard a door open down the hall and saw a figure quickly slip into Sarek's room. Kirk grabbed his robe and followed.
Spock was standing over the head of the bed. The bedding had been kicked almost completely off, only half covering his buttocks and legs. Kirk stepped close to see Spock touching his father's meld points again, and Sarek suddenly quieted. Kirk leaned over and grabbed the covers and pulled them back in place, trying not to notice Sarek's naked body.
He felt guilty about the seeming disloyalty of the nightmare. Why would his mind go there? But at the same time, he realized as quickly that he now had an erection again-from the nightmare, seeing Sarek naked again or just his morning usual he didn't know. He turned and bid Spock 'good morning' and shuffled away to the shower down the hall to take care of his 'problem'.
He tried to focus on his recent and best sexual experiences as he pumped himself under the pounding water, but his mind kept unearthing Sarek's thrusting and moans from the nightmare, his naked back, thighs and buttocks flexing. The tight, weighty balls revealed as his thighs separated for better leverage in his excited thrusting.
He chalked it up to the stress he still needed to release, as well as his sexual tension, and the call from Jane and seeing Sarek, or parts thereof of him naked-just an amalgam of anxieties, concerns, and discomforts blended together haphazardly, he decided. He guiltily let his mind wander to his 'vision' of Sarek close to climax, sans Jane of course, because it seemed the only thing he was responding to and his balls were aching.
Sarek was quite attractive, even quite sexy he'd grant him, Kirk rationalized, and Kirk had had some male partners, though he tended to choose the soft, supple curves of a woman. However, a Vulcan male tended to peak most being's interest since they were so unavailable and generally uninterested in anything other than a permanent bondmate, Vulcan and female, for good reason. And lying there undressed Sarek had looked so vulnerable and …acquiescent? Accommodating? He grinned.
Jesus Jim, say it like it was! He was asleep, for God's sake! There's kinky, as in using a sexual dream of Sarek getting some to get off in the shower, then there's just plain grotesque. He couldn't imagine what Sarek's reaction would be to his thoughts of his being asleep characterized as accommodating! And here he was worried about Jane taking advantage of Sarek's grief and vulnerability! He shook such thoughts from his head and reoriented himself and his stomach toward breakfast.