Title: As The Seasons
Fandom: Star Trek: TOS
Pairing: Pike/Other
Spoilers: None
Author's Note: This story was inspired by the Audrid Dax section of "The Lives of Dax" wherein Chris Pike is inadvertantly exposed to the secret of the Trill. The idea occured to me, if Pike hadn't been in his accident...it might have been Trill he ended up on.
Summary: There's no mistaking being on an alien world.
Notes: For the occhallenge "Seasons" Challenge and for the multifandom1000 "Five Senses" Challenge. Gemma Ren belongs to me and, believe it or not, this story ties into the Phoenix AU I play with at times.

"As The Seasons"
by M.
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Waking up on an alien world...there's absolutely no missing it.

In all his years in the 'Fleet, the time spent in space where the air had the distinct sensation, smell, of the recyclers, there was absolutely no mistaking it. When Christopher Pike awoke in the morning, he knew instinctively he was not on Earth. No one had to tell him. He didn't have to open his eyes. He knew. The air was different. It felt different on his skin, the scent it carried with it was different, the way the breeze wafted through the window was different.

But, for as much as it was not Earth...there was much of the planet Trill that Chris liked.

Not the least of which was lying beside him in bed, curled around his body.

The fall season on the continent was approaching steadily, the chill on the wind warned of it, and while Ren loved winter, she disliked the time between summer and fall when the cold intermingled with the warmth. It resulted in the kind of chill that sank through to the bone, dragged a person down. Gemma complained the cold penetrated through her skin, chilling the part of her that was the Ren symbiont. Chris had always lovingly teased her about being silly but she insisted, she could feel it.

In the early hours of morning, his wife still slept and Chris didn't tease. He merely cuddled her closer, one hand lightly brushing over her thick, black hair. It felt like silk beneath his hand and he loved it. There wasn't much about Gemma he didn't love. Like most Trill, Gemma Ren had a light dusting of spots running down her body. They started from her hairline and went all the way to her feet. Chris liked those spots. Most human men did. Exotic and unusual, the spots of a Trill were like the ears of a Vulcan. The first thing about their species that humans noticed. It amused Ren, it amused most Trill, they barely gave the spots a second thought. Didn't notice them. Until, that was, an alien such as himself pointed them out.

Ren knew he loved them on her, it made her laugh. But she enjoyed it too. Chris paid special attention to those spots when they made love and she definitely wasn't going to complain about that.

She saved her complaining for things that mattered. Like the encroaching cold. And when Federation business kept him in the capital city too long. Despite her past host's career in politics, serving on the Trill's ruling council, Ren had a streak of impatience running through her when it came to bureaucracy. Even with the political acumen that her past host, Denel, had learned, she grew easily irritated when her work required her to deal with them.

Fortunately, Gemma's work at the university required little involvement with the government. He suspected that was half the reason Ren had chosen to be joined with her. Denel had served the council for most of his life and, well, as Ren had noted, he'd had quite enough of politics for a lifetime. Or two. Or three.

There were times when Chris had a very hard time believing any part of his wife had ever been male. While he'd had a crash course introduction into the symbiotic nature of some Trill with The Incident, as he mentally had dubbed it, the subtle complexities of it were still hard to grasp. The fact that the symbionts were passed from host to host was the easy part. The hard part was comprehending the fact that, when in Denel, Ren had been very much a man. Had been married for well over fifty years, had three children, ten grandchildren, and had loved his wife quite deeply. That was the complicated part. Though, as Chris was learning, the symbiont had no gender and while it was hard to imagine Ren as male...

During at least one lifetime, Ren had been. Would be again.

His wife's existence was truly an alien one to him but one which fascinated him. Like everything else on this strange world.

"S'cold."

Her voice drew him out of his thoughts and he looked down to realize Ren was awake. "Good morning." He greeted quietly, brushing her hair back from her forehead and kissing it.

"Good morning." She smiled, lips curving up slightly, then cuddled closer. "Why is it so cold?"

Chris grinned. "Because the window's open. We didn't notice when we went to bed. I'll get it."

Ren's smile widened and she kissed him. "I love you."

He gave her a wry look then slid out of bed to close the window, joking "We'll discuss that later," as he went.

"Mmm...just as soon as I warm up." She agreed, burrowing beneath the covers.

"Oh, of course." He agreed, pulling the window shut and fastening it. For a moment, he stopped and stared out at the city in which they lived. As the Federation ambassador to Trill, he'd been offered diplomatic residence in the capital city. All the better for the Trill government to keep an eye on him. Lest he spill what he knew of their symbiotic nature to someone with a far less discerning nature. He and Ren had rejected the offer, preferring a smaller city away from the hubbub of the space center.

He loved it here. It wasn't Mojave but...

It was home.

Finis