AN: Thanks to everybody who reviewed so far! It means a lot to me. Honestly, I wasn't sure anybody would be interested in my story at all, but I had to try anyway. I don't mind getting constructive criticism either. I'd love to improve my writing skills. And if my English is off sometimes, please tell me. It's not my first language and I don't mind improving it!


2272 - San Francisco, Earth

Reception

Althea looked at herself in the figure length mirror. A pale face stared back at her, accentuated by the long black formal dress she was wearing. Her hair, pulled back in a chignon at the base of the neck probably didn't help the impression of translucent paleness, even illness.

In fact, she was feeling ill. Just this morning her headaches had returned once again, more severe than they had been for months now. But she simply could not be ill now. She had to go through with the evening. Sarek and Amanda were hosting an important and quite large reception at the Vulcan embassy today and Amanda relied on her to take care of the myriad of smaller and larger things she could not take care of while doing her duty as hostess.

Althea pinched her cheeks and hoped to bring some color back into her face by it. Then she reconsidered. Maybe she should just go with the pale look of a fragile porcelain doll instead of trying to cover it up, which was pretty much hopeless anyway. She could try to use her current paleness to her advantage.

Not for the first time during the last years she thanked the powers of the universe that had given her a friend like Emma, who had taught her how to properly use cosmetics. She even went so far as to call her friend for some advice on how to achieve the desired effect. There was no going back now, with only an hour left before the guests arrived. She simply had to pull through.

Althea took another one of her analgesic pills, hoping it might at least give her some relieve. Just enough to get through the evening. Everything was in order and well organized. She only needed to be well enough to direct a carefully planned and well rehearsed theatre. She could do that, even if she felt a little bit fuzzy from the analgesic. This was not her first embassy function and by now she had enough experience to draw on it.

Finally, she reached for the wooden box with Jael's necklace. By now people had gotten used to her, a Terran, wearing a rare Andorian necklace. Amanda and Sarek had even given her a pair of matching earrings for her last birthday. As always the numerous tiny gems in the necklace started to glow and flicker as soon as she touched it and put it around her neck.

Althea gave herself a last look, calmed her face to remove the shadows of her headache from it, straightened her back and returned downstairs to oversee the last preparations.

Amanda waited for her in the large entrance hall, in full splendor of her position as an ambassador's wife and one of the highest ranking women of one of Vulcan's more powerful houses. Althea still marveled at this transition from scholar to representative whenever it occurred and at the ease with which Amanda undertook it. Amanda looked quite regal in her intricately designed and ornamented Vulcan robes.

"Is everything all right?" Althea asked.

Amanda nodded. "Everything is fine. The food for the Rasiinians also arrived just a few minutes ago and the buffet is finally complete."

Althea sighted. "Thank goodness. I already feared the caterer would make a botch of it. Is there anything else left I need to take care of right now?"

Amanda shook her head. "Everything is under control."

Althea smiled slightly. "So far at least."

Both women started towards the dining and reception rooms for a last round of inspection. The rooms were are startling mixture of terran and Vulcan design, now fitted with a large buffet, beautifully set tables and an area kept free to walk, talk and even dance.

Amanda gave Althea a sidelong glance while walking. "Are you alright? You look pale."

Althea nodded, trying to smile reassuringly. "I am fine. It's just a little headache. Nothing serious." She waved it away with her hand.

Amanda frowned slightly. Althea seemed too pale for just a little headache. "Are you sure?"

"Quite sure. I will be fine." Her smile came naturally now, a reaction to Amanda's concern.

Both women started to check the dining room, adjoining gardens and dance floor, making sure everything was in perfect order for the numerous dignitaries from various Federation planets. No cultural or religious offences. No toxic or ill smelling plants for anyone. They had almost finished their tour, when Amanda's communicator signaled. She gave the display a glance, then smiled.

"Could you finish here alone?" Amanda asked. "Spock just arrived."

"Of course I can." Althea assured her.

Amanda nodded. "I will see you later."

Althea smiled. "Without doubt."

She watched Amanda striding across the large room, not quite hurrying but going as fast as her dignity and position would allow for. Then she continued her round on her own.

Althea knew how much Amanda was looking forward to the next few weeks. Ever since Spock had called to ask if he could stay with his parents during a repair and refit of the Enterprise at Utopia Planitia on Mars, Amanda had waited for the day of her son's arrival on earth.

Amanda had not been at her office when Commander Spock had first called. So Althea had taken his call.

"Ms. Parker." he had stated when her face came online.

"Commander Spock." She had replied with the slight incline of the head typical for Vulcans in greeting via comm link. "What can I do for you?"

"I wish to ask my mother, if it is convenient for my parents for me to visit for 27 days, starting on September, 14th."

Althea had refrained from saying that she was sure there would be no objections to his coming for a prolonged visit. She had only nodded. "I will relay your request, Commander. Is there anything else you wish me to pass on to your mother?"

"No, there is not. Good day, Ms. Parker."

"Dif-tor heh smusma, Commander Spock." She had replied in the traditional Vulcan farewell, giving a flawless representation of the ta'al, the hand sign accompanying it.

Spock had lifted one eyebrow, returning the ta'al. "Sochya eh dif." he replied before signing of. She had allowed herself a small smile, watching its reflection in the now dark com screen. He should be used to her speaking Golic Vulcan by now.

She had pondered his facial expression for a moment, before pushing it aside. She was simply curious about him. She had never done more than exchange a few sentences with him via comm link. Despite working as Amanda's aid for two nears now, she had never met him once. Twice she had only missed him by a few hours or even less. Still, by now she had heard countless stories about him and his friends.

Well, today she would finally meet him. And she had to admit to herself she was more than a little bit curious about him. He had always fascinated her in an unusual way.


Spock had had his duffle bag, containing everything he needed for his stay at his parent's home on Terra, directly transported to the Vulcan Embassy in San Francisco. Before leaving the Enterprise at Utopia Planitia he had changed from his uniform into formal Vulcan robes, since he would not be attending the reception at the Vulcan Embassy in his capacity as a Starfleet Officer but as Vulcan citizen and member of the House of Surak of the clan S'chn T'gai.

While waiting for his beam out to earth he found himself pondering on his last and very short com call with Ms. Parker, his mother's aid. Something about his mother's aid always struck him as peculiar.

He never had indulged in the human propensity for small talk, but he had learned to do so in a minimal way as not to give offence. However, whenever he talked to Ms. Parker he never was able to do even that. Oddly, he never felt it to be appropriate to engage in small talk with her.

And she never had expected it from him. Whenever he reached her instead of his mother, she calmly took his messages, being perfectly professional, betraying no overly emotionalism or curiosity. Her eyes always looked clearly at him, never wavering, her calm gaze only interrupted by her blinking. In that she seemed almost Vulcan, but it might also be a mask acquired for her position.

Still, something about her felt at odds. He knew this observation of his to be illogical and of no consequence, since it was solely based on a hunch as Jim would call it. It was nothing he could define, measure, or analyze. It was simply a feeling that something about Ms. Parker was missing. Or something was not in its right place.

He stopped pondering Ms. Parker when it was his turn to beam out. It was illogical to dwell on an undefined feeling. However, he stored it away in his mind for further reference, should any need arise.


"Althea, are you well? You look ill." Soran, Sarek's chief of staff and ambassadorial aid walked up to her, obviously taking his own last tour of inspection.

She looked up at Soran, who was tall, even for a Vulcan, towering more than a head over her. "Is it that obvious?" she asked.

"To me, it is." He stated matter-of-factly. "If you are ill, you should rest. I can proceed alone."

Althea gave him a light smile, as she always did when Soran was in his brotherly protective mode as she called it. "I know you can. But though I am not feeling perfectly well tonight, I am well enough to continue."

He raised one eyebrow in the typical fashion of Vulcans indicating a lack of understanding for a seemingly illogical behavior.

She countered with a wider smile than before, her eyes clearly saying You should know me better by now.

He returned her look. I believe, I do. it said.


Spock quietly watched the progress of the reception, slowly circling from one conversation to another. He only had had little time to great his parents before the first guests had arrived, being placed at a different table during dinner, which obviously was a scientists' table. His partners during dinner had proven to be a most intriguing company, representing different worlds and disciplines.

After dinner their group had dispersed, searching out still other colleagues or people of interest. Spock had at first spoken to some of the Starfleet representatives, then joined a group discussing interstellar gravitational drifts. Later he had exchanged a few words with an aid to the Romulan Ambassador.

Now, he was simply standing at the side, observing and quietly drinking a glass of water. The evening had turned out to be most satisfactory and intriguing. Still, something made him a little bit ill at ease. He could not quite place this impression, but he felt a dull throbbing at the back of his mind, hampering his concentration. However, whenever he tried to concentrate on it and define its source, it eluded him.

Althea felt the vicious throbbing behind her eyes increasing. Dinner had ended some time ago, leaving the dignitaries to disperse, forming small groups to discuss or simply to chat.

She had quietly circled the room, trying to anticipate any problem or need that might arise, answering the questions of various guests, addressing the requests of others. She had met Soran regularly on her rounds, discussed potential issues with him and passed information to and fro. They worked together effortlessly, having done so on various occasions by now. Both had fast come to some wordless understanding and quiet efficiency ordered the lives if their respective superiors effectively.

Not for the first time that evening she felt her gaze linger upon Commander Spock. Why did he always capture her attention when he happened to pass her view? Curiosity? Charisma? What was so different about him than about any other stranger she had heard a lot of?

A stabbing pain suddenly raced down her spine. She barely managed to suppress an audible gasp. Her headache made it impossible to think clearly. She undoubtedly needed to do something about this pain. She desperately needed some air and a few moments of quiet solitude. And she feared she needed another painkiller. The third one today. And it had to be the last one. She absolutely was not allowed to take more than three per day.

Althea quietly moved to one of the more remote doors to the embassy gardens, taking a glass of water with her. The cool evening air brought some relieve to her as did the quiet. She found her way to a small garden terrace, which usually was overlooked by most of the guests, and she felt herself relax a little bit.

She slowly drank her glass of water, closing her eyes and letting the evening breeze cool her face. By now she truly wished this evening to be over. Or at least she wished she could stay here longer, hoping to ease the pain somewhat. But she had to return. If she would stay away for too long, Soran would definitely come looking for her. Everybody else might just believe her to be somewhere else at the moment but not Soran.

She sighted. Then she took the now empty glass from the balustrade where she had left it and went back in. On her way back she placed the glass on a waiters tablet, who was circling the garden and terraces for stray glasses and plates someone might have left there. Then she slipped back in through the same door she had used for her short lived escape. She carefully lifted the sheer white curtains with one hand, carefully bending her head as not to smear her makeup on the fabric or mess up her hair.

When she lifted her head again she suddenly found herself almost walking into Commander Spock, his shoulder only two inches away from her nose. He abruptly turned his head towards her, his eyes lingering on her face, one eyebrow disappearing almost in his hair in mild surprise upon her sudden appearance.

Her eyes widened with astonishment, her lips parting ever so slightly. "I am sorry. I did not mean to disturb you." She took a startled step backwards, her eyes still fixed on his gaze.

Then her head suddenly started spinning from a new wave of pain. She stumbled and started to loose her balance.

Surprise registered in his look, as he saw her first almost walk into him, then obviously tripping over her own feet. He took a quick step forwards, reaching out to steady her, locking his hand firmly around her left arm and elbow.

She gasped, when his hand touched her skin. It felt searing hot on her bare arm, sending a fire racing up her arm, radiating through her whole body and slamming into the back of her head. Pain exploded in her head, but she did not utter a single sound.

His grip slightly tightened and his breathing rate increased almost imperceptible. He suddenly recognized her, as he felt her mind brush against his. More mature. Red wavy hair. But unmistakably her.

She suddenly remembered one night back on Vulcan five years ago, a memory so unreal and unbelievable that she had buried it deep down in her memory, at first believing it to be a dream. Wanting and wishing it to be a dream. Then forgetting it. And forgetting him.

Their eyes locked and time suddenly slowed. His hand still rested on her arm, their touch leaving them both breathless.

She felt her pain drain away and only the slight fuzziness of the analgesic remained. A strange sensation settled in her head, as if something was touching her mind. He gazed at her, suddenly realizing he was still touching her. Slowly he dropped his hand from her arm.

"I did not recognize you. I had no idea." she whispered.

"Neither did I." he said quietly.

They stared at each other silently for another moment.

Althea felt herself blushing. Panic suddenly rose in her chest. "I am sorry, I have to go. I..." she did not, could not continue the sentence, suddenly too embarrassed to speak. "I have to work." She finally managed and took a step back into the room full of dignitaries. "Sorry." she said softly, turning around and hurrying away, disappearing in the crowd.

Althea forced herself to slow down, fighting her urge to run and hide. She could not do that. She had to hold it together, regardless how much she wanted to die from embarrassment right now.

Him of all people! Why had she not recognized him earlier? She felt herself blushing again when she remembered what had happened in that library back on Vulcan. How could she ever have done that? And how could she simply have forgotten it? She had not remembered. Until they had touched.

She sighted inwardly. He could have been anyone. How slim where the chances of her ever meeting that man again. But not only had she met him again, he also happened to be the son of her current employer. This whole situation was beyond humiliating.

She drew in a deep breath. She had to pull herself together. There was no use in pondering on her misfortune any further. She had work to do, things to organize and supervise. She had to focus on this reception and the embassy's guests. She had to try to just shut out this strange encounter.

But she could not. It felt as if he was following her around the room, his gaze burning holes in her back. But whenever she turned or looked out of the corners of her eyes to where she thought he stood, she never found him there. Even more strangely her headache was completely gone, leaving in its place this bizarre sense of him staying always right next to her, even though he clearly was not.

You are just overreacting. she scolded herself, firmly pushing this feeling of his presence aside. You can dwell on that later.

"Are you feeling better?" Soran asked her in passing. "You are less pale."

For a second she looked startled. "I do." she then said. "At least I think, I do." she added almost inaudibly.

Soran did not comment on this highly illogical statement of hers. It was not the first time he encountered the confusing inability of humans to know of their well being. They either ignored their body's signals or obviously confused emotional well being with bodily well being.


Spock looked after her, unsure about what had just happened. But he knew for certain, something had happened. He clearly had felt her in his mind the instance they had touched. And suddenly he had remembered, her face appearing as clear and as vivid in front of his inner eye as if he had just seen her a few hours ago in that library back on Vulcan.

And he still felt her there, touching his mind and her confusion and embarrassment reverberating through his self.

How was it possible, he could still feel her presence? He should not be able to do so without touching her. But he basically was flooded by her emotions. Shame. Denial. Fear. Humiliation. Turmoil. Anger. Fighting for control.

It was as if no barrier existed between them. He longed to go after her, bring her back, talk to her, and explore this sudden and strange connection between them.

He almost took a step forward to follow her. But he felt her mind opposing him. She did not want him near. She wanted to be left alone.

Anger flashed through his mind. Why was she resisting him?

But then he fought his anger down. He needed to control himself. He could not simply act on an emotion-induced whim.

Spock quietly retreated to the terrace, searching for a quiet spot to clear his mind. He needed to asses the situation, analyze this connection of his to Althea Parker and decide what to do about it.

The night had turned colder and the garden was by now almost deserted. Spock sat on a stone bench facing a Vulcan stone garden with a small fountain in its centre. His hands steepled in front of him, he closed his eyes, focusing on Althea's presence in his mind.

Instantly her emotions washed over him again overlaid by a strong layer of denial and control. It seemed as if she simply ignored her emotions. Or at least tried to do so.

Spock followed her emotions, pushing deeper down into his own mind. Layer after layer of his consciousness were left behind, as he advanced into his subconscious. The connection lay there like a fine web of tendrils woven into his mind, glowing and pulsating with life.

Spock carefully probed it, casting his thoughts out towards Althea. Yes, he could feel her, her mind at the same time responding and shutting him out.

Where did this connection come from? How could this have happened? He carefully pulled at the glowing web in his mind, tried to remove just one tendril from his mind. A stabbing pain in his head was the only answer he got from his attempt. He could not dissolve their connection. It was deeply rooted in his mind. They were bound to each other, their minds obviously firmly linked.

Realization hit him. Bound to each other, impossible to dissolve...

It must have happened five years ago during their love making. He must have touched her mind, his own mind still raw and empty from his recently dissolved bond to T'Pring. And he must have bound himself to her. He could not remember any resistance from her. On the contrary, he remembered only being welcomed by her. She had not judged. She had only been curious, losing herself in him.

But they must not have been prepared for it or willing to accept it and must have had it buried deep down in their minds, so deep down that they had not even been aware of it afterwards. They had even forgotten each others faces. It had only sprung into live again when they had touched tonight. Spock could still feel her cool skin on the palm of his hand.

Their bond had been there for five years now, irrevocably linking him to Althea Parker and preventing him from forming any attachment to another woman. This most likely was why he had always dreamed of her as soon as he became interested in someone else. Despite staying hidden, the bond had protected itself.

He looked at their bond, glowing steadily stronger, showing more and more tiny and delicate tendrils woven through the core of his mind. It fascinated him and at the same time filled him with trepidation. What was to come of it?

He needed to talk to Althea. She probably was not aware at all what was happening to her and what were the consequences of it. Her confusion and distress showed clearly in their bond.

Spock was unsure how he would explain it to her. But he knew he had no other choice. It had been done and they needed to face the consequences.

He slowly opened his eyes, letting his hands drop to his side. Then he got up from the stone bench and dusted his robes off, before he slowly returned to the reception. He needed to find Althea Parker.


"Ms Parker, it is imperative that I speak to you."

Althea almost jumped, when she heard his voice behind her, barely keeping an outward appearance of calmness. She turned to face him, looking into his intense dark eyes.

"Why do you want to talk to me?" she asked quietly. "Is it because of what happened five years ago? I assure you, there is no need to talk about it."

"There is every need." he contradicted her. "What I wish to discuss with you is a direct consequences of what happened then."

"I don't see what consequences this possibly could have." she felt her face turning a deep shade of red again. "I'd really prefer to ... to just forget about it. It's not what I usually do. In fact I've never done such a thing before or ever again. And I certainly won't hold any claims on you or tell anybody about it, if that is what you fear." She truly felt mortified by now.

He looked at her, her deep shame vibrating in his mind. "You need not be embarrassed. I do not intend to discuss morals with you. This certainly would be duplicity on my part. And I do not fear you laying claims on me."

She suddenly felt exasperated. "But what then?" This whole conversation made no sense to her. The whole situation made no sense and was just plainly ridiculous. Just what were the odds of something like that happening? Couldn't he see she didn't want to talk or even think about it?

"Would you mind going somewhere more private? What I need to discuss with you is nothing to be discussed in public." Spock persisted. He could not give up, even though he clearly could feel her distress.

She suddenly felt an urge that was not her own was spilling over to her, willing her to give in. "All right." she agreed, her brows slightly knitted together. "But I can't leave for too long. I have work to do."

He nodded, then turned around, obviously expecting her to follow him. She scanned the room, looking for Soran, wordlessly signaling him, she was leaving for a short while, before she followed Spock to one of the doors, leading back to the main area of the embassy.

He awaited her at the door, inwardly surprised at her outwardly calm and composed demeanor while he sensed her inner turmoil. Her emotions almost did not show in any way.

They quietly traversed the large entrance hall and walked down a corridor until they reached one of the rooms the embassy offered to its Vulcan employees and visitors should they be in need of meditation.

As soon as they had the door closed behind them, Althea turned to Spock, doing her best to look calm and composed, despite a hundred different emotions assaulting her. "What is it that I can do for you, Commander?"

He looked down into her face, suddenly at a loss how he should broach the subject to her. "What is it you know about how Vulcans find their mates and how they decide to formalize their union?" he then asked her.

"Excuse me?" She almost couldn't believe what he was asking her. "This is what you wanted to talk to me about? You can't be seriously asking me that!"

His gaze never left her eyes. "There is no reason for me to not be serious about it."

"As I understand it, this is nothing to be discussed in public. Or with Non-Vulcans." she evaded, her exasperation at him clearly showing in her voice by now.

"Since I asked you to give your knowledge, you are free to speak." he countered.

"How can I have any knowledge of something that is not discussed with outsiders? All I could give you are guesses and speculations." What was he aiming at?

"Then please guess."

For some time they both stared at each other. Spock's face seemed calm and composed on the outside, but Althea got the distinct impression something lay beneath this calm, something very different from his outward appearance.

Then Althea gave a slight nod, knitting her brows slightly together. "Very well, as you wish."

She turned her head, focusing her eyes on the meditation stone with its flickering flame. "As I understand it, almost all Vulcan children are betrothed at the age of seven to a partner chosen by their parents and clan elders. This betrothal is not to be understood as a terran betrothal would be, meaning simply being a vow to get married at a later time. Vulcan children are linked telepathically during their betrothal. When they are grown up, at some point, they turn this betrothal into a marriage. I do not know how they decide on the point in time to get married. However, I have the impression there is something to it involving telepathy. But no one ever talks about it.

"I also don't know if the telepathic link formed between children is different from the one between married couples. I am not even sure, if this link is strong or not. Sometimes, I get the impression, it is very strong. Sometimes it appears as if it almost doesn't exist. Probably it varies from couple to couple, depending on the mutual attachment to each other." She stopped, returning her gaze from the meditation stone back to his face again. "I believe there is a lot more to this, but there is absolutely no information available on it. Even pre-reform literature does not dwell on it. Or if it does, this literature is not available to anyone outside of Vulcan society."

Spock nodded once. "Have you ever heard of the term pon farr?"

"Pon farr? If I translate it correctly it means "Time of Mating". But I have never heard of it in any context." She felt her confusion getting even bigger. "What does it mean?"

"Your translation is correct. Pon farr usually occurs in the Vulcan male for the first time between the age of 25 and 40. A neurochemical imbalance triggers an urge in the male to return to his betrothed and consummate their betrothal bond. If the male does not return to his bride, the imbalance will increase, culminating in plak tow, a kind of madness, which will ultimately lead to the death of the male. When the male returns to his bride and the betrothal bond is consummated, a Vulcan pair bonds even more intensely on a telepathic level, thereby forming the marriage bond. This bond links them permanently and can only be severed by a powerful healer or death."

Althea felt as if Spock had just dropped a bomb in front of her feet. She couldn't think of a single thing to say to that. This was madness. And she couldn't think of any reason at all, why he was telling her all this. Spock felt shear shock radiating from her, her eyes staring at him confused and disbelievingly.

"Why are you telling me this." she finally managed to say.

"I wish you to understand what happened five years ago."

"But what has all this to do with... with the events back then?"

"When I met you in the library I had just undergone my first pon farr."

"You are married?" she whispered, feeling suddenly even worse.

"No, I am not. My bride decided to challenge during our bonding ceremony. She chose a champion to fight me for her. I won, but the fight had effectively quenched my pon farr. So I choose to set my bride free. I had no desire to be bound to a wife who clearly desired another. Still, even though my pon farr was abating, I still had heightened senses that made me very perceptible to any unbound female as yourself."

Althea went very pale. "So I was simply a convenience to... to satiate your sexual desire."

"I believe not." he disagreed.

"You believe not." she echoed. "What then? Why did you do it? What in God's name are you trying to tell me?"

"I don't know what happened, but the result became very obvious to me today when we touched." he said.

"What result?" Althea asked, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

"We are bonded. During that night in the library we must have formed a bond, which lay dormant since then, only springing into life when we touched."

Althea felt her body going completely numb, felt all her emotions just shutting down. She starred at Spock, but she wasn't quite sure, if it really was her seeing him or somebody completely different and she was just watching from the outside. "So, this means, we are ... married?" She heard herself ask, her voice sounding strangely far away.

"In essence, according to the customs of my people, we are."

She still starred at him, trying to pull her thoughts back together. "I don't think so. You must be wrong. This isn't possible!" Without another word, she turned around, fleeing from the room. Was he crazy? This couldn't be true. It simply could not. He was plainly out if his mind. This story was just unbelievable.

She stopped in the hall for a second, closed her eyes. This whole thing was totally insane. How could he claim such a thing? She forced her breathing to slow down. She better should go back to the reception. If she waited too long, he might catch up with her. She absolutely had no nerve to concern herself with Spock and his insane claims.

She took a deep breath to calm herself before she went to the reception. Just ignore it. she told herself. Don't think about it. Go back to work and solve this problem later. This whole story is way too crazy to be true.


Spock looked at the door through which Althea had just disappeared. He obviously had gone about it all wrong. But he had no idea how he could have done it differently. He had had to explain it to her. There was no alternative to telling the truth.

But all he could feel from her right now was a deep feeling of shock, overshadowed by denial and fear.

He was unsure about what to do next. Then he decided to wait. Maybe with time she would come to realize that he had indeed told her the truth about their situation. And if she realized that, she would most certainly come to him. They needed to solve this together. There was no other way.