Story Notes:

Disclaimer: (c) 2007 Rabble Rouser/Harmony_bites. All rights reserved. This work may not be archived, reproduced, or distributed in any format without prior written permission from the author. This is an amateur nonprofit work, and is not intended to infringe on copyrights held by Paramount or any other lawful holder.

Sulu took a deep breath when he saw the line at the transporter room he had been assigned to. The line of crewman was orderly, like everything had been on Kirk's Enterprise, yet at ease somehow, relaxed. That was characteristic too, the comfortableness, the lack of petty crap that crept into so much of Starfleet. He put down his bags and shook out his hands and shoulders once they were relieved by their weight. Toed it ahead of him as the line moved. He couldn't believe how much he had accumulated-despite having sent crates of stuff back home. Well, he was a packrat and knew it.

He smiled seeing Kirk and Chapel ahead of him on the line. That would be like Kirk. Not jumping ahead as was the captain's privilege. He had seen Kirk ahead of him and had leaned on the bulkhead to watch a while. Watched him go to the door of the transporter room and speak briefly to each crewman in turn as he went down the line to take his place, sharing a joke here, touching an arm there. Chapel was beside him, a bit behind and to his right. Where Spock had always been. His smile faded slightly. Wasn't sure what happened and couldn't believe the rumors Spock had gone to Gol. He could have never imagined a Kirk without Spock.

But then could he have imagined a Kirk with Chapel? Kirk didn't try to hide what he felt. They acted perfectly properly of course. Nothing that could be said to be an improper display of affection in public. But there was hardly a moment he wasn't touching her. Guiding her by the small of her back, jostling her playfully, putting his hand briefly on her shoulder, as if she'd disappear if he ever lost contact. And she smiled so much more often now. At him. At the world. It was great to see them together. The man who everyone thought could never settle on anyone. The woman who everyone thought never could move on to anyone else.

His smile disappeared completely. He had commed Janice when he found out they were coming home. Knew she would be there at Starfleet Central when they beamed in. He meant to tell her, warn her, but it had stuck in his throat. He just couldn't do it. Because he couldn't dash her hopes? Or his?

Chekov had never seen his friend stand so still. Fixated. He followed Sulu's gaze to the console. Kirk, Chapel and a blonde-the transporter chief by her uniform. He still didn't know what to make of those two together. He felt betrayed without knowing why. He had tried explaining it to Sulu. It came down to feeling as if Kirk was being unfaithful-to the Enterprise.

Sulu had just shaken his head. "So you think she's Delilah? She's cut his hair off...or something else?" Sulu had grinned his sunniest smile, the one that made any fears seem foolish, and he had smiled back sheepishly.

The other transporter tech motioned them to step away. Of course, they were holding things up. He briefly touched Sulu's arm to break the spell and they moved off the pad. Kirk and Chapel were already moving on. The blonde stared at their retreating figures so intensely he felt a prickling at the back of his neck.

Then she turned and smiled at Sulu and gave out a squeal practically jumping into Sulu's arms and kissing him on the cheek.

He felt foolish. She was just a girl. A very pretty one. Sulu introduced her, and he knew the name. There had always been something about how Sulu spoke about Rand... He forgot about that as she turned a sultry smile on him, tilting her head, her eyes narrowed and glinting giving her a feline look.

She took him and Sulu by each arm. "I was just going off duty. So where's the party?" she asked gaily. She hugged both of them to her but was pressing more closely to him as she led them both out of Starfleet Central, chatting away.

He was very aware of the swell of her breast against his arm. He swallowed, glanced at Sulu who was glaring at them both. He blushed and shifted but she just held onto him more firmly. She started talking about Kirk and Chapel, making cooing and kissing noises that made him laugh. He looked back at Sulu. He wasn't laughing. He gently disengaged his arm and she let go of them both, as if it was what she meant to do. She said she'd see them at the party tonight for Enterprise crew and blew them both a kiss. He was mesmerized by the way she walked as she left them, sin incarnate.

Delilah.

Uhura felt uneasy. She had been disappointed to find out the mission had ended while she was on leave. She had always thought she'd be on the Enterprise for that. She'd caught a starliner to Earth and been surprised to find the ship not already there. She laughed, choking on her drink, as Sulu explained about the "scenic route." That was so like them. Kirk. Sulu. That mixture of defiance and whimsy. She felt a wave of love for her crewmates so intense she had to look away, blinking back tears. Nothing else would ever come close. She knew that.

But then there was Rand. Uhura had been so happy to see her, but something was off. Was unlike what she had expected from Rand's faithful, chatty hilarious communiqués over the years. She was still funny, joking away. But there was something brittle. The air became charged as Rand flirted with Chekov, and he practically squirmed in the booth. Sulu put his arm around Uhura and she looked up at him, winced at the pain in his eyes. They had been lovers briefly and always friends, and she could read him too easily.

But not this Rand. And then talk turned to the captain and his new love and Uhura understood. She said she had to go to the rest room and practically jerked Rand out of the booth forcing her to go with her. "You're hurting."

"Aren't you?"

Their gazes locked and Uhura took a deep breath. "I'm happy for them." And she was. Yes, she loved Kirk and always would. But the Platonians had put paid to any illusions of romance. It was the way Kirk had kissed her. Or rather how hard he had fought not to kiss her.

And Uhura wasn't one to pick on wounds. She had forced her mind away from those lines and looking at Rand she was so glad she had. Because this is how she would look if she hadn't let go. Rand was breathing hard, practically panting, her eyes wide and dilated. Hurt. Disappointment. Heartbreak. That Uhura could understand. But there was something else on Rand's face that bore watching. Made her a little afraid.

"I won't let you hurt them." She didn't realize she had spoken aloud until Rand had started and laughed. Joked about it. But Uhura still felt as if war had just been declared between them.

Rand didn't usually drink much. And she didn't now, didn't want to lose control. But she ordered wine, sipped at it, willing herself to relax. God, she couldn't believe Uhura. What would make her say something like that? She had thought Uhura would understand.

Rand laughed. She had suspected Uhura was in love with Kirk and had always considered her the serious rival. She saw Uhura's look and made up a funny story on the spot to explain the laugh. She worked hard to erase the suspicion on Uhura's face, the hurt on Sulu's, Chekov's awkwardness.

Light. She had to keep it light. She smiled, shrugged. She deliberately turned the talk to Kirk and Chapel again. Formed a sheepish expression on her face and admitted she was jealous. She saw each of them release a breath as she spoke. She watched each of them carefully for their reaction, let tears fall, shook them away. "Silly."

She saw their faces relax, as if by admitting some of her pain she had become less dangerous.

Sulu drew her towards him, wiping her tears, stroking her hair. Uhura reached across the table and squeezed her hand, an apologetic look on her face as if sorry for overreacting earlier. Chekov shifted in his seat, as if not knowing how he fitted in all this, and she smiled warmly at him, saw him smile tentatively back.

She could still have him if she wanted. She could see it in his eyes. She'd just have to take it slow, get him away from Sulu, alone with her. She could make him feel he had died and gone to heaven. She considered it. She wanted to stay connected to all of them. Sulu would be a mistake. She couldn't keep it light with Sulu. And deep down knew it wouldn't just be his heart she'd be risking. Hadn't she had enough of that?

"Anyone thought of what you'll be doing when the Enterprise is ready again? Maybe we can serve together again," she said.

"It won't be the same, not without the captain," Chekov said.

"I bet he'd love the idea of us being there for her-his lady." She could see the idea take hold on all their faces. She dropped it. Let them convince themselves. She turned the talk to what past shipmates were doing.

Let the circle be unbroken. Or reformed. Link by link.

Scotty was finally alone with her. With his lady, right where he could feel the beat of her heart in Engineering. Well, not truly alone. A skeleton crew had beamed in, had helped take her to Space Dock where the refits would begin. He had always felt uncomfortable in the center seat. Not his place. But this time he hadn't been there to make decisions that were heartbreakers, risk his dear love, but to guide her to her rest.

He caressed the metal of the bulkhead. Felt tears well in his eyes. They had all but given her to him. The refits would be to his specifications and plans. He'd guide the work every step of the way.

It was the chance of a lifetime. He had been an engineer on ten other ships and he had never felt anything like this fierce pride and love in them. But he hadn't been their chief engineer, charged with their care, able to make his ideas literally take flight.

He smiled. It hadn't just been his position. It was the captain. He had always backed him one hundred percent. Anything for their girl.

He couldn't understand how the lad had left so easily. Scott had expected him to be here to the end. Wandering throughout the ship. Expected him to claim the honor of guiding her to her bed. He shook his head. He guessed it was the lass that made the difference.

Flesh and blood loves-they were dangerous. He still remembered what a fool he had made of himself over Palamas. And Mira. He shifted guiltily. For a while she was all that mattered. But then he had left her on Memory Alpha and his communications over time had gotten shorter and shorter and farther and farther apart. She had lost ground to finishing one more article in a technical journal before going to bed. Or not making time in the morning before grabbing a bar for breakfast and hurrying down because he had just thought of a new way to fine tune the channeling from the dilithium chamber to the warp core. He sighed. He didn't seem to have the knack of connecting to flesh and blood women.

But the captain… He saw how he'd looked at the lass. He liked Chapel, in the vague way he had most of his shipmates. He hoped they'd be happy.

He would.

McCoy shut himself inside his father's study. He knew he was unbearable to be with-even for him. He didn't want to take it out on Joanna. Knew she'd probably be hurt anyway that so soon after coming home he was shutting them all out. But better that than let one tenth of the pain and bitterness out of his heart. Make Joanna cry as he had Chapel.

He hadn't meant to hurt Christine. It was the last thing he'd want to do. He had said so, and Kirk had remarked it was amazing then how good he was at it. Jim had come down to sickbay to tell him what had happened with Spock. McCoy couldn't believe what that damn fool Vulcan had done. Was in full rant, calling Spock a devil with a computerized heart and circuits instead of a brain, an elf with green ice in his veins, unfeeling. He stopped at the look on Kirk's face. Like Kirk was ready to explode. He couldn't believe that after all Spock had done Kirk was angry at him-for Spock. He felt some of the old unworthy jealousy flare inside him. Spock always came first. He'd forgotten who really came first now. Hadn't even realized she was there, drawn by his shouting.

"He didn't do it because he didn't feel, Len. Spock did it because he felt too much," Chapel had said softly.

He looked at her incredulously. "Nurse, do you mind? This is private."

"Then you should have kept your voice down. All of sickbay can hear you, Doctor." Her voice was biting but there were tears in her eyes, and she knuckled them back angrily. Kirk was immediately at her side, glaring dangerously at McCoy as he left with her.

McCoy had tried to mend things, but every time he'd tried, another argument between him and Kirk would flare up.

He hated himself for it. Jim had been through so much recently. But damn it, taking a desk job was the mistake of Kirk's life. He knew it. Christine would too if she knew Jim half as well as he did. But she didn't yet. McCoy couldn't give Kirk the support he wanted and Christine was demanding of him. Couldn't validate this decision, make things comfortable for Jim. It would only make things worse in the long run.

"Damn you, Spock. He needs you. Damn you."

Kirk thrashed on the bed and cried out. He hadn't even opened his eyes before he felt a warm body pressing against him, a soft hand at his cheek.

"Nightmare?"

He shook his head and took her hand, kissed the palm. "Bad dream yes, but not what you're thinking, Chris."

"Tell me about it?" He saw the determined look on her face and sighed. Nothing would get by her, and he didn't want to try. But she wasn't free of this and he didn't want to stay in the darkness, share so much of his pain. He didn't want them to be about that. About pain. He had been back in the shackles. He had felt a hand on his face and had jerked away, turning his head and expecting to see Alesson.

It was Spock. He was there to take his pain away. And Chris with it. He pulled her into his arms. "I have nightmares at times. There's been plenty in my life to make nightmare material believe me." He couldn't stand how her face creased with worry, decided the truth would be better than her imagination. "It was Spock, but not that other dream. He was trying to meld with me."

"Oh, Jim."

"It's all right. I miss him, you know. And I could forgive him. Edith. And Rayna. But I find it hard to forgive him almost taking you away from me. Whatever I may have gone through back there, gaining you makes it all worth it." He stroked the hair back from her face. "I'll tell you a nightmare I don't have any more. Dying alone. I always thought I'd end up alone." He traced her lips with a finger, and he felt her arms tighten around him. "You've changed my future. You have."

"I don't like to think of you dying. I'd do anything to keep you safe."

"Well, now you won't have to." He felt himself grimace and fought hard to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "Nothing safer than an Earthbound desk job."

"But I'd let you go. Back into space. If it would make you happy."

"I'd be happy to be back in space. But not with you letting me go. Don't let go." He began kissing her, smiling as he touched her, caused her to make those soft and not so soft cries he loved. "Don't ever let go."

Chapel laughed at Rand's perfect mimicry of Scotty's burr. "You didn't?"

Chapel was elated that Janice had called and suggested lunch. She'd been afraid Janice would never forgive her for being with Jim. And there was certainly no way in hell that she was going to apologize for that or pretend she regretted it. But she remembered how painful her crush on Spock had been, could understand Janice's hurt. Had felt awful back in that transporter room as Janice had struggled so hard not to let anything of what she must have felt color her voice or face-and failed.

"Aye. I felt sorry for the lad and felt he needed cheering up. Alone with that ship. So I brought him a wee bottle of Scotch. He was so happy to have someone to natter away with about the new transporters."

"You and him didn't..."

"Why, Christine Chapel. Me kiss and tell?" Rand had a cat-in-cream expression on her face.

Chapel felt relieved. Maybe Janice really was moving on.

"So you're going to medical school?"

She didn't know why she felt Janice wasn't happy about that. Except that unlike Len and Uhura, Janice had always seemed happy to let the subject drop. She had felt grateful for that. She'd always felt slightly ashamed at how she had let her career drift. Uhura had once said Rand didn't want to watch as yet someone else passed her by. Chapel had thought that unkind and unfair. She shook herself. It *was* unkind and unfair. Janice had been so nice. Not one reproachful word.

Chapel nodded. "I had three years and am getting credits for my time on the Enterprise. I'll be finished and in a residency within the year. I don't know why I waited so long."

"Maybe you just didn't want to leave the ship? As long as there was hope?" Janice reached out and squeezed her hand. "I don't want you to feel as if you can't talk about them to me. I know how you felt about Spock...and how you must feel now about...the captain. It's hard not to let such feelings overwhelm you, make decisions for you. You know, by the time you finish the Enterprise might be needing doctors..."

"I'm not sure I'd want that."

"He wouldn't let you go?" Janice was the picture of sympathetic concern.

Chapel bent to her food, not sure how to answer.

Spock was almost grateful for the headache. To feel anything. He gritted his teeth. He would get through this. As a Kolinahr initiate, he had submitted to a meld as well as drugs to temporarily empty him of all emotions. It was the first test to see if he could tolerate it as a constant state. He was being closely monitored.

Some began to fall into madness. Others found that after the experience, that not only did they not want to achieve Kolinahr, they no longer wished to cleave to the ways of Surak, even if it meant leaving Vulcan altogether. Sybok had been one of them. Spock remembered how his brother had spoken of the unbearable emptiness, the sterility of pure thought.

He was not his brother. No, for his brother had been a pure Vulcan. He was half human. And that made him both unsure Kolinahr was possible for him and all the more determined to achieve it. Spock turned his thoughts to all those he had cared for. Testing himself carefully as if prodding an aching tooth with a tongue.

Amanda. His mother had begged him not to do this. Had embarrassed him in front of fellow Vulcans with her tears. He had wanted to refuse to see her. But avoidance was not the way of Gol. Eventually, when he could face his mother, his memories of others, and meet them with indifference, only then, ironically, would he be allowed to turn his back on them all.

Sarek. How predictable his father had been. And yet not. You would think this of all things would meet with his approval. What could be more Vulcan? But Sarek believed the Kolinahri to be extremists, did not believe the complete purging of emotion to be Surak's way but indeed an act that betrayed a passion deeper than shouts or tears. At that, Sarek might be right. And what could be more expected but that nothing Spock could do would meet with his father's approval?

McCoy. McCoy had sent him a communication. Raved, ranted, and begged him not to do this. To cut them all off. To cut Jim off.

Jim. It was just a headache. That was the reason for pain. Nothing else. He bent his mind to the computer model of wormhole dynamics. In the tranquility to be found in exercising pure intellect.

In time everything else would fade.

The End