The Good of the One

This is part of my "AU" in which my original character lives. I did once write her into virtually every second and third season episode – off camera – and this story is part of that series. At this point in her story, only Spock and McCoy know she is Jim's sister, and no one knows about her relationship with Spock.

This is a "missing" scene from Journey to Babel, in Spock's quarters after his mother storms out. (On a side note, I've always wondered how the door knew Spock didn't want to leave the room. He walks straight up to it and it doesn't so much as twitch.) I also use this story to confirm that – at least the officer's quarters – have private bathrooms. ;-)

Journey to Babel may have been a story of espionage and diplomacy on the surface, but its true heart was Vulcan family relationships. So in this scene, I use Daphne to explore the complicated dynamic of a multicultural, interplanetary family.

Daphne crept softly out of the bathroom and found Spock, with his back to her, his hand on the door. His head was bent and a deep tension ran across the muscles of his back and shoulders.

He turned to face her and she saw that he was trying to shake off the scene with his mother.

Impossible.

She crossed the room in quick, light steps, put her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against his chest. Even as she did it, she wasn't sure he would allow it. Beneath her hands his spine was straight and strong, every line of his body lean and hard. For a single moment they stood, locked in place as if to remain frozen that way forever.

He was Vulcan, the heir-apparent to a powerful Vulcan clan, the son of an important Ambassador, a Star Fleet Officer and Second in Command of the Fleet's Flagship. He was torn between two cultures. He was brilliant and tortured.

In her arms, she felt only Spock, solid and real and immediate.

"You could have told her I was in here," Daphne said, softly.

Spock took her by her forearms and set her away from him. She let her hands fall to her sides, respecting his wishes.

"It would have made no difference," he said, harshly, 'My mother would have said exactly the same thing if she had found me on the Bridge."

Daphne shook her head slightly, "Surely not," she said.

"My mother still thinks of me as the 6 year old boy I was before my kahs wan," Spock said, as if explaining a particularly puzzling enigma, one he still had not quite grasped.

"Before you chose a Vulcan path," Daphne guessed, "Back when there was still hope you would be more like her even though you look more like your father."

Spock's intake of breath was harsh and short, but then he nodded. He stepped past her then, to go to his desk. He dropped into the chair as if he were suddenly very old and cast the computer screen a single glance. She knew he was monitoring the Bridge. Apparently satisfied with whatever the monitor had revealed, he rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers before him. Daphne waited.

"What does she want from me, Daphne?" His gaze was fixed on some distant point. Light and shadow caressed the distinctive planes of his face, which was set in classic Vulcan composure. But a maelstrom roared in his eyes. "What part of her does she want to find in me?" He looked at her then, his eyes intense. "Does she truly wish for a human reaction? Has she considered what that might mean?"

She answered him slowly, softly, "Your father has not spoken to you in 18 years, and does not acknowledge your presence or your accomplishments even when you are in the same room. He has made a foolish and, seemingly, illogical decision to risk an important mission and his own health by concealing information. But your mother wants you to save him anyway."