Here's your epilogue.


Jim sighed and glanced down. A single tanned hand moved from its position atop the table and rubbed at his rounded stomach. He groaned and grabbed the glass, quickly tipping the ruby red liquid down his throat. His nose wrinkled at the bitter taste and he wondered, not for the first time, why he continued to drink alcoholic beverages. Getting drunk was only good until the next morning. Actually, it wasn't. Spock refused to touch him if he was anything less than totally sober. Something about consent. When didn't he want to sleep with Spock? Was that even a question?

"Right there Jim?" Bones asked as he gracelessly dropped into the chair beside to him.

It made Jim smile. His best friend looked so incredibly happy. And Bones never looked happy. But tonight his eyes were bright. His cheeks were pink and a merry glow followed him everywhere. Married life already looked good on him.

"I'm fine. Maybe a bit too full." He said and patted his stomach for emphasis. He'd eaten through three courses, Spock's chocolate mousse and quite a few slices of cake. In his defence, if they hadn't wanted him to eat it, they wouldn't have bought such a enormous cake. Seriously, the thing was about a metre tall. There were little under 100 guests. Jim did the maths. Spock did the maths. Jim ate six, maybe seven, slices. All was good in the land of Jim.

Bones snorted and mimed unbuttoning his pants. It made Jim grin like a fool. His best friend of almost three years now was acting like an idiot. Which was normally Jim's job. He figured he'd let it slide, just the once.

Behind his left shoulder someone cleared their throat. Fingers swept against Jim's neck. The light caress sent tingles racing up and down his spine.

"T'hy'la, are you well?" Spock's breath brushed against his ear. His smell, something distinct and alien, curled around Jim.

Blue eyes hooded, he turned his head up and caught the dark gaze. The bottomless void pulled him in, captured him completely. He could barely think of anything other than his bondmate standing over him. Pulling him deeper.

Bones' coughing broke him out of the trance. Jim thumped his friend on the back, concerned.

"I'm good. I'm good. I should probably get back to Carol." Bones jumped up and walked away without another glance, leaving Jim more than a little confused. Apparently, so was Spock. Although, maybe confused was the wrong word. From the corner of his eye, Jim watched Spock watch Bones. He could feel a headache coming on.

When he'd first arrived, Spock and Bones had seemed like good friends. Not people who talked a lot and had everything in common rather, who respected and appreciated each other. Before Bones's sudden arrival in Riverside, two days after Spock left, he'd gotten an email with information on the doctor. There was everything from his credentials, his primary school report cards, high school recommendation and volunteering history to his university extra curricular report. It had taken Jim a whole day to read through.

It was sweet, Spock wanting Jim to approve of his friend. And their friendship was a two way street.

For months Bones talked about the first time he met Spock, the training they did together, how -surprisingly- good he was with small children. He'd even been introduced to Pavel. The sweetest, most protected kid in Ahk'ihs. Who also happened to be Spock's biggest fan. It was, he'd found out later, quite the privilege. No one was as well guarded then the little Russian. Uhura, Scotty and Sulu all stood at the door for each of their 'play dates'. Which apparently had nothing to do with Jim's prior record with other young people.

However, lately neither Spock, nor Bones, wanted to have anything to do with each other. Jim was surprised when Spock agreed to come today. He'd expected a logical list of reasons he couldn't attend. He didn't understand why Bones and Spock were not-fighting. The last time they'd had an not-argument, when Spock first returned, it had been resolved within two weeks. Three crates of Georgian peaches could go a long way.

This time, Jim didn't even know what they had disagreed upon. He just knew it had to be important.

"Perhaps it is time to leave?" Spock asked as he ran his fingers through Jim's hair.

Jim let himself be pulled to his feet. Hand in hand, they walked across the floor, only stopping to say brief goodbyes. Jim had never really gotten used to the way crowds parted for Spock. Or the weird looks sent his way whenever they touched in public. It was odd, knowing people didn't trust Spock's control. Since that first time, Spock had kept a tight leash on his powers whenever touching was involved. Which, if Jim had his way, would be involved a lot more frequently.

Either way, Spock hadn't extracted from him again. Or employed the Vulcan touch telepathy he'd heard so much about. It worried him. Since finding out they'd accidentally married, Jim had done a lot of research. He'd even coerced Uhura into teaching him Vulcan just so he could hack into the Vulcan Science Academy's database. Being the uptight people they were, he'd spent the better part of three months reading through encrypted files until he'd found mention of the word t'hy'la.

Then he'd cried a little.

He just loved him so much, sometimes it hurt. And he'd been a little scared. Had considered that maybe Spock didn't want to share everything bondmates usually did. Maybe they were more friends with an accidental and coincidently unbreakable bond and Spock was able to settle for that.

"You know I love you, right?" Jim asked, suddenly needing the reassurance. He couldn't shake his concern about not melding. It ate at him constantly. What if Spock had seen something in his mind which he didn't like? If there was something intrinsically wrong about him which repelled his Vulcan?

"And I you, James." Spock replied, briefly tightening his grip.


Spock wanted to pace. Could imagine himself wearing down the hardwood floors in a neat line. He was agitated, upset even. The 'issue' with Leonard was inconvenient. Of all times, now was when he needed his friend. They might not see eye to eye the majority of the time however, Spock trusted him. The perpetually grumpy man was reliable and underneath his rough veneer he was rather caring and very loyal. It just so happened that these qualities were currently working against him.

Their not-fight, as James liked to call it, had been going on for more than a month. Spock had gone to see Dr. M'Benga and Leonard had listened in on their confidential session. He'd then come in, yelled, called Spock a number of derogatory xenophobic names and gone off in a huff. Spock was pretty sure M'Benga hadn't blinked through the entire 50.67 minute lecture. Almost like he'd gone into some form of stasis. It was a fascinating reaction to unexpected events. Something Spock noted down and decided to study when his current strew of experiments was complete.

Any attempt to talk to the doctor since had resulted in additional heated arguments -when James wasn't present- or the cold shoulder -when he was. It was confusing and, he could admit, annoying.

James had specifically asked him never to touch his mind again. Unless he was explicitly given permission, Spock would not break that promise. He would continue as he was. If the level of contact he currently shared with his mate was insufficient -which it certainly was- he would not mention it. Pressuring James into something he didn't want was not something he could ever think of doing. His t'hy'la was the most important, precious thing in his life. There was nothing he wouldn't do for Jim. Even at the risk of himself.

However, Spock could feel himself weakening. His mental shields were crumbling. His katra in disarray. The bond screamed for deep mental contact. It hurt. Echoed through his mind constantly. All his attention was currently focused on keeping the discomfort away from Jim.

"Spock?" His head snapped up as Jim's voice floated through the open doorway. The uncertainty confused him. He'd never heard his mate sound so clearly unsure in his presence.

Jim and Leonard walked into the sitting room, Leonard taking the opportunity to pull the heavy oak door closed and rest against the pale green walls. Jim walked in further, coming to stand right in front of Spock. He sat on the silky oak coffee table biting his lip and frequently glancing back at their friend.

Who, eventually, huffed out a long suffering sigh and moved forward.

"Spock, we're staging an intervention since your to stupid to do it yourself." Leonard grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and taking a seat on the chair slightly to his left.

Not feeling like feigning ignorance, Spock raised a single eyebrow.

"We're just worried about you. I don't know what's wrong but, maybe if you just talk to me..." Jim trailed off, wringing his hands. Through their bond, Spock could faintly feel his distress. The hurt that accompanied it. Perhaps telling his bondmate wouldn't be such a bad idea. His empathy knew no bounds and Spock was sure that he'd let him enter his mind. Except, that was the whole problem. James would let him. Not want him. It would be something he did only because Spock needed it.

"There is nothing to discuss. I was about to book an appointment with the closest Vulcan healer-" Before he could finish, both James and Leonard were on their feet.

"What?!" They shouted in unison.

"I require the services of a Vulcan mind healer." Spock reiterated. Until he'd met Jim he'd never known how one could feel both fond and exasperated at once.

"Mind healer! Why do you need a mind healer? Jim asked, looking between Spock and Leonard. "What do you know that I don't?"

"Calm down kid. He doesn't need a healer. He needs you." Leonard soothed, hands outstretched in a placating manner. Spock could feel the moment Jim's eyes swung back in his direction. The focus of his glare like a shot of electricity straight to his heart. Those eyes shone with the emotions bleeding through their weakened bond. Hurt, accusation, disappointment and fear.

"Dr. McCoy, perhaps it would be best you leave." Spock said harshly. He kept his gaze focused solely on James. His control was vanishing, every instinct screaming at him to soothe his mate. He'd do whatever Jim wanted just to get rid of that look in his eyes.

"Now see here you green blooded hobgoblin, I came to make sure you'd tell Jim what your problem is. Until you do that I'm. Not. Budging. One. Inch." Leonard practically snarled, his hands fisted at his sides.

"Bones, please leave." Jim asked as he broke their eye contact to smile, rather unconvincingly, at his friend.

"Okay kid, what ever you think is best." Leonard looked between them one last time before sighing and shifting off his seat. He paused at the door briefly before wrenching it open and leaving it to slam behind him. The sound made Jim flinch.

Spock was unsure how to proceed. He wanted to draw his Jim into his arms and hold him close. Spend eternity with Jim secure in his arms. Knowing Jim's temper and his tendency to lash out, his actions wouldn't be welcomed.

"Just tell me the truth. Why do you need a mind healer?" Jim asked quietly.

"Vulcan bonds require frequent telepathic contact. Without it they weaken. As our bond has never been... fortified, it is unstable." Spock said, watching for Jim's reaction. It was not exactly what he'd hoped.

Jim launched himself off the table and began pacing in frustration. His hands practically ripping his hair from his head. Everything about him spoke of his agitation. Spock had known it was a bad idea. The mind healer would have been able to support the bond just fine. His precious mate had never needed to upset himself over this.

"If you need it, why don't you ask?" Jim seethed, turning back to face him.

"I did not want you to feel uncomfortable." Understanding dawned in Jim's eyes as the promise hovered in the air between them. One hand reached up and with a slap, left a red mark across his forehead.

"You really are an idiot. You know that, right?" Jim murmured as he came to stand in front of Spock's chair. A calloused hand reached down and plucked one of Spock's own from his lap, interweaving their fingers.

"Ma t'nash-veh nahp. Please." Honest eyes stared down at him, hope shining in their sapphire depths. If they did this, never again would Jim think he'd gotten away with something. Never would they be parted. Always, would they be touching.

"K'hat'n'dlawa." Spock stood, letting Jim lead him into their room.


"Ma t'nash-veh nahp." Have my thoughts.

"K'hat'n'dlawa." Half of my heart and soul, in its deepest sense.