Ambassador Sarek pressed his lips together tightly, suppressing his own emotional response. He watched as the humans in Command Central each, individually, came to the same conclusion he himself already had. It was done. This new threat, some aggressive action by some unknown alien race, would destroy Earth within the next few minutes. And there was no Enterprise waiting to rescue them this time, no time travel or extinct species that could be brought forth to appease the aggressors. In fact, his son and his associates were in the next building, in the council chambers, along with hundreds of other dignitaries and Starfleet personnel, all trying to put their heads together to find a solution. Sarek glanced up toward the view screen at the count down. 10:35. Only a little over ten minutes until he and everything around him ceased to exist. He glanced around, noting the sounds of crying and despair. People were holding each other, comforting each other. Except one.

He watched Dr. Christine Chapel as she continued to stand at her console, her fingers frantically running through the computer banks' controls as she searched for some miracle while she simultaneously tried to head up the evacuation efforts. Her hands and voice both shook, indicating her distress. A valiant effort, certainly, but illogical. Ten minutes was not enough time for another ship of potential survivors to board and leave orbit, let alone get away from whatever this was that was about to destroy their planet. If they hadn't left already, they were as doomed as he.

He moved toward her, his pace measured and even, as his breeding dictated. So frantic was she, she was unaware of his proximity. "Doctor Chapel," he called to her. She continued her efforts. "Commander," he said louder. Still she was unaware of anything but her work. Sarek reached forward and took her by both shoulders. "Christine," he implored her, and pulled her a step away from her console toward him. He turned her until they were facing each other, then removed her headset and placed it on the console. "No more," he said quietly.

"But…" She looked at him with little comprehension. Her eyes held tears, as yet unshed. Her body trembled.

"It is over," he insisted.

She closed her eyes, those tears spilling over her cheeks. She buried her face behind her hands and shook her head. She was crying in earnest now.

He placed his right hand upon her left shoulder, to comfort, but took a half step away. If she turned to him, he would hold her. He could do that. One does not stay married to a Terran woman for 57 years without learning how. However, despite a deep respect and…friendly association with Doctor Chapel, the prospect of doing so for anyone other than his Amanda was disconcerting.

"I failed," she cried, her words barely discernible behind her hands.

"No," Sarek assured her.

She removed her hands to look at him. "I am the Commander of Emergency Operations. I am supposed to keep us safe. We are all going to die because I failed." She looked away, becoming emotional again.

"It was not your sole responsibility. It was all of ours," he reminded her, speaking of the Council. "We all failed." He allowed her a moment to consider his words. "Christine."

She took a deep shuddering breath and wiped her tears away. She looked at him, somewhat controlled

"Most of the humans seem to be finding comfort in being near loved ones, just now. Perhaps, you might benefit…"

She nodded. "Yes, I should go to them."

"They are in the council chambers," he reminded her.

He sighed softly, watching her leave. He'd been offered a spot on one of the ships that left. Had he taken it, he would already be safely away from Earth. He was chosen because, if they were unsuccessful in saving Earth, the Federation must go on, and he would be needed. But Spock…Spock refused to come with him. Like he had all his adult life, Spock chose to stay amongst his mother's people. Spock was not afraid to die. Perhaps dying once already had something to do with that. Sarek had once stood before T'Lar and the adepts of Seleya and calmly, without shame, admitted to his love and devotion for his son. 'My logic is uncertain where my son is concerned.' Yes, and in his way, he did it again. He would not, could not, suffer the loss of his son again. Nor, if he was being completely honest with himself, as his upbringing demanded, was the prospect of avoiding having his wife precede him from this existence unappealing. In recent years Amanda had become noticeably frailer, her memory noticeably less sharp, bringing to light his time with her was growing very short. However, if his wife's beliefs are correct, and one day they three will be rejoined as family again in some next existence, then…then perhaps this is as it should be for surely if he were to live out his natural lifespan, and Spock his, it would be many, many years before they reunited. His only regret, perhaps, was leaving Amanda to deal with their double loss, as she had been remaining on Vulcan most of the time now. She traveled with him only if he were planning an extended stay from her. The stress of space travel had become too much for her to bear frequently. But he had called her, explained his reasons, and she had agreed. If she must lose them, she took comfort in knowing at their end, they would be together.

Intending to fulfill that desire, the last act he could do for his bride, Sarek headed for the council chambers. Miss Chapel was in the first row of benches, standing with Dr. McCoy and Miss Uhura, holding them as they held her. The chamber was crowded, standing room only, as humans would say. Captain Kirk stood beside the Doctor, and his son, as always, beside him. Looking up at them from his position on the chamber floor Spock's gaze met his, and through some unspoken understanding, Spock came down to stand on the floor beside him, in front of his crewmates.

"Mother?"

"Is prepared," Sarek assured him. He glanced up at the countdown on the chamber's view screen. 02:00. "She says to tell you she loves you."

Spock nodded expectedly.

"I…took the liberty of assuring her we loved her," he admitted softly. He noticed, in his peripheral vision, his son's startled look. "There seems little logic in inhibitions and decorum at this point."

Spock nodded again. "Yes, Jim was just saying something quite similar about…about resolving any lingering regrets, if possible, in the time we had left."

Sarek nodded at the human's wisdom, staring at the countdown even though his mind could maintain its own internal countdown with great precision. 01:00.

Spock stared at the floor, contemplating. He could hear Jim and Leonard talking, trying to comfort Miss Chapel and Miss Uhura. Reminiscing about old times on the Enterprise, speaking of their feelings for each other. He could hear others, some loud wailing outcries, some more subdued conversations, depending on the species. He considered his life…lives, if he were to be accurate. He'd gone into the radiation chamber the first time, his katra safely – or so he thought – entrusted to McCoy, no regrets weighing upon him. This time though…this time there would be no passing on his katra, no Genesis effect, no Refusion; and as Jim spoke of his regrets and wishes…one thought crept into his thoughts. Spock glanced up at the countdown. 00:30.

Spock turned and walked up the three steps to his shipmates. Jim moved closer to Uhura, making room for him, placing him directly in front of Christine – which is exactly where he wanted to be. He moved closer to her, his gaze locking with hers.

"Spock?" she asked.

He hesitated, just a moment, because there was no time to hesitate any longer. Spock slid his hands across her cheeks and molded them around her ear and jawline then pulled her to him. He brushed his lips across hers gently, then when they parted in surprise, deepened their kiss. Her hands clamped onto his wrists, perhaps in protest, but her lips softened under his. He felt her lean into him, her hands sliding from his wrists to wrap loosely around his back. Her tongue probed his lips, tentatively. He pulled her tighter against him, inviting her in to him as he also explored her. In the background, in the furthest recesses of his mind, he could hear someone counting down. 10…9…8…7…6…5…

Spock wrapped his arms around her, pressing her against him, feeling where her breasts pushed against his chest and her pelvis rubbed on his. He broke away briefly to allow her to breath, pressing his lips to her cheek, then her neck, then moved back to claim her again. He clung to her as though she, somehow, was his salvation. He knew of nothing else, could think of nothing else but tasting her at that moment.

There was a soft poke against his ribs. He ignored it. Then another, less soft. "Spock," he heard Jim whisper urgently. He shook his head, never leaving her lips. Suddenly he felt her stiffen in his arms. He pulled back just enough to look at her. Her eyes were wide, then as his gaze met hers she closed them, looking mortified. Spock became aware of a difference around him, the atmosphere had become…lighter, happier. He glanced askew to note they had drawn the attention of those nearest them, and there was a fair amount of subdued snickering to be heard.

Spock looked down at Christine. "The time passed," he surmised. She nodded. "Nothing happened." Again she nodded. Spock sighed. "Oh…"

She opened her eyes and pushed her hand against him gently. "I have to return to my station," she whispered. "It might only be a reprieve…"

Spock straightened, not realizing in his…enthusiasm he had actually been tipping her backward. "Of course," he murmured, releasing her. He busied himself with tugging his uniform back into place as she slipped past him.

Sarek stood on the floor, next to the stairs, but stared at the now black view screen. His hearing could, of course, make out everything that was occurring behind him, even after he had seen his son's…outburst…and determined to look away and afford him whatever privacy he could. He heard Christine stumble on the stairs and reached for her, steadying her and assisting her to the floor level. "Breathe, Doctor," he reminded her gently.

She took a deep breath and tugged her tunic back down. "I'm fine," she said indignantly.

Sarek pulled her slightly closer to him. "You will become accustomed to it, in time," he whispered, allowing his mirth to show when her face became noticeably redder.

She pulled her arm from his grasp and strode out of the chambers.

The End