Chapter 7

June 2248 - Day 25; 11:35 am, Doctor O'Neill's Office

Jim had to admit to himself that he was a little miffed that Scott and he had rushed all the way into town for this appointment only to be left waiting for half an hour past the time his appointment was to take place. He hated sitting in waiting rooms almost as much as he hated seeing a doctor in the first place. Ever since Tarsus IV he couldn't stand going to the doctors. He couldn't stand the looks in their eyes when they recognized him, or the pity they tried to hide when they read his medical charts. He had often thought of simply hacking the system and deleting all his medical history related to the events on Tarsus IV, but some part of him reminded him that it wasn't a good idea. That if something went wrong in the future they might need that information to treat him. So he had, so far, left his medical charts alone.

He was sorely reconsidering that now as he waited.

"Jim Kirk," called a nurse.

Jim stood up, drawing her attention to him, along with the attention of a pair of elderly ladies in the corner and a mother who had been watching her three children play with the old twentieth century Legos set up in a children's waiting section. Jim stepped away from where Scott and he had been sitting, heading over to the nurse who had an apologetic look on her face.

"I'm sorry for the long wait. Doctor O'Neill had to rush to the hospital with her patient who came before you so she won't be able to see you today. I can help you reschedule your appointment with her, or I can see if Doctor Buechi is free today?"

Jim held back a frustrated sigh, looked over at Scott who was pretending to be reading one of the old National Geographic magazines from last spring. He didn't want to ask Scott if he could give him a lift into town again, but he also wasn't a fan of Doctor Buechi. The man was such a cold fish, and had no bedside manner! Even a Vulcan was more personable. Still, he had been sick for quite a while now and if it was just a flu or something they could fix with medication, he'd rather get that done and over with now. He had a farm to run after all, and no one to help him do so. But he hesitated because of the second possibility.

Looking back at Scott, then over at the woman and her kids, Jim took a deep breath, letting his eyes close for a second as he thought. If he was pregnant he needed to know. Not just because it would be a little bit of Spock he got to keep, but because it was a hybrid baby being carried by a guy. Sure it was theoretically possible, Jim had heard about the scientist working in Japan who thought they would be able to do it in the next ten years. But that was with medical intervention in a controlled environment. Not because of a crazy accident like Jim had, followed by teenage hormones.

Releasing the deep breath he had taken, Jim looked at the nurse waiting for his answer. "I guess see if the other doctor has space to see me today."

Nodding with a sympathetic smile the nurse started typing into her PADD. "He should be able to see you in a couple minutes if you'd like?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

"Okay." The nurse quickly typed him into the schedule on her PADD. "Come with me then and I'll get you started."

Jim turned and gave Scott a quick wave as he followed the woman into the back, where the private rooms were located. He tried not to let his irritation show as he followed her through the hall to a small room at the end. Like all doctors office the room was done in neutral tones and plastered in posters about common illness and anatomy diagrams. He still thought that was a little creepy, so like always he just ignored it.

The nurse stepped into the room behind him, shutting the door softly and waving Jim to take a seat next to the small table where the doctor usually sat. Attaching her PADD into the wireless keyboard, she began the routine of asking him about him symptoms. She gave him 'the eyebrow,' as he had taken to calling the look of disbelief he seemed to be getting all the more often since the accident in class, when he told her that he had been turned into a woman and that he was worried he might be pregnant. When she pulled out a medical tricorder to scan him, Jim felt a little less irritated. She might not believe what he said but she obviously had heard the rumors and was at least taking him seriously enough to scan for such changes.

Jim tried not to smirk when her other eyebrow rose to meet the first, the tricorder obviously showing that Jim still had a vagina.

"You did get yourself into a pickle," she muttered as she set the tricorder next to the PADD, uploading the scans into his medical file. "I'm afraid that the scans aren't telling me if you are pregnant or not. It is having a hard time deciphering your unusual anatomy. We'll have to do some blood-work to know for sure. I'll get that started for you, but the doctor will still want to look you over in case it turns out to be something else. We've had a bad case of summer flu spreading about recently."

"Fine," Jim muttered. He just wanted this over so he could leave.

Standing up she opened the cupboard above the little desk, taking out a packaged hypospray, popping in the glass capsule that would store his blood for testing. "Which arm would you prefer blood to be drawn from?"

"The right is fine," Jim replied, sticking out his arm.

"Alright." She took his arm gently in hand, washing the bend in his arm with rubbing alcohol, before pressing the hypospray to his flesh.

Jim winced at the quick whoosh sound the hypospray made as it pressed the needle to his flesh. The clear vial attached quickly filled with red blood and Jim stared strangely entranced by the sight. A second vial quickly replaced the first as it filled up, and Jim blinked as a wave of nausea washed over him. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath and tried to steady himself. He knew he should have tried to eat something before they let the house, but little to nothing as staying down and he was getting tired of vomiting up everything he ate.

"All done." The nurse quickly caped and labeled the vials, setting them in a tray. "I'lol just take a sec to finish this up and then I will get the blood-work started for you. They should know by the end of the day if you are pregnant or if it is something else causing the vomiting, fainting, and exhaustion."

The nurse typed in the last of the details he gave her, making note of his new height and weight compared to his last visit. With a final smile at him, she detached the PADD from its docking station attached to the keyboard and left the room. Jim groaned and slumped back in the uncomfortable steel and vinyl chair that looked as if it had been old even before the Eugenics War. He would be so glad to get this over with so he could leave and go get something to eat, maybe apply for a job in town for a little extra money. He didn't want to live on goodwill gestures from his neighbors and Scott's dad anymore. He was more than capable of supporting himself with a part-time job, the money he got from his land being rented out for farming and grazing purposes, and what little food he grew in his own garden.

Rubbing his belly, Jim let himself wonder what he would do if the test came back stating he was pregnant. He wasn't even 18 yet, and though he had graduated High School already he couldn't do much more than what he already was on that level of education. But if he had a kid Jim wasn't sure that he would have the time to go to college. Not as a single parent.

"I need Spock," he bemoaned.

A single brisk knocked heralded the door opening and Dr. Buechi stepping in. The doctor was in his mid-fifties, balding, and about sixty pounds overweight with a perpetual grimace. Jim disliked him immediately.

"James Kirk," he asked without looking up from his PADD.

"That's me."

"It says here you think you're pregnant."

"Yes." Jim glared at the man as he began to realize just how badly this appointment was going to go.

"Son," the doctor started in an overly condescending voice. "Did you skip the Sex Ed classes at school?"

"No," Jim ground out.

"Then you should be smart enough to know that human males do not get pregnant. Not even if they have sex with an alien."

"Yeah, well, like I told the nurse I was a girl at the time."

"Son," the doctor set the PADD down on the table, not even bothering to put it into the docking station like he was supposed to. His expression had gone hard, eyes flinty, and the lines around his mouth seeming all the sterner. "I don't much care for people wasting my time."

"I don't either, and I would appreciate it if you stopped calling me 'son.' As far I am aware we have no familial relation."

The doctor glared at Jim, his displeasure almost palpable. "I think you need to leave."

Jim glared right back at the man. Jumping to his feet he stormed to the door, throwing it open. Pausing in the doorway he turned to look back at the doctor, ignoring the curious gazes of the nurses in the hallway. "And I think you need to get a bedside manner. Your's is atrocious."

Pushing past the nurses, Jim tried not to cry. He wouldn't normally but it felt like all his emotions had been a jumbled since Spock left. He found himself getting bored, frustrated, and a grey out of the blue for no reason. Or if he already felt that way it was like the emotions were magnified and doubling back on him, making it all the worse. He didn't know what was causing it, but he supposed it could be all the wacky hormones running through his system.

Quickly wiping away the dampness forming in the corners of his eyes, Jim pushed his way out into the lobby, practically running to where Scott was sitting. "Let's go."

Scott looked up at Jim, eyes moving over Jim, taking in the tears and the way his nostrils were flaring as he tried to calm his breathing back down. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Jim," Scott stood up reaching for Jim, but Jim moved too fast. Twisting out of Scott's grasp he made his way to he door leading outside. "Jim! Wait up."

Halfway into the parking lot Jim stopped.

"Jim," Scott said, his voice low and smooth like he was trying to sooth a wounded animal. "You want to tell me what happened in there and if I need to go blacken the doc's eye for you."

Jim snorted, his lips twisting up just slightly before drooping again into a frown. "It's nothing."

"It's obviously something if it has you spitting mad." Scott stepped closer, gently putting his hands on Jim's shoulders, turning Jim to face him. "If he did something, said something inappropriate-"

Jim glared up at Scott, his hands clenching into white-knuckled fists at his side.

"Okay." Scott looked back to the doctors office. "You give me five minutes and I'll get you an apology."

"No."

"Jim-"

"No. Just leave it. I knew going in that he would act that way. Dr. Buechi has always hated me." Jim's shoulders sagged as the fight left him. "Can we just get something to eat and go home. I need a nap."

Scott looked at Jim for a long moment, his eyes slowly softening. "Alright."

"Thanks."

With a sad smile, Scott led Jim to his Prius. He opened the door for Jim, waiting until Jim was inside and buckling his seat belt, before going around the hovercar to the drivers side, to get in himself. "How 'bout we stop at Daisy's Diner and get some apple pie with our lunch?"

Jim smiled weakly and leaned back in the seat. "Pie sounds good."

The two of the drove through town to the diner in silence. It wasn't a bad silence, but Jim knew Scott would have liked to have Jim tell him what happened. Scott was a good guy and he didn't need a record for assaulting the doctor over Jim. Jim had given up on the need for someone defending his honor and self esteem, years ago. He knew who he was, and he could take the shit other people were willing to deal out to him. Still, a part of him whispered, it was nice to see that someone else cared about him.

Jim glanced out the window, trying to hide the blush that had risen on his cheeks as he realized that for the first time in his life he had a friend. A friend who cared about him. The only other people to care for him were gone. One dying the day he was born, and then second back to his home planet. So it was nice to have someone here, close by, who cared if he ate, or had enough food for meals, or if he needed a lift to town, or help on the farm.

Jim smiled as the truck pulled into the parking lot, the anger and hurt form the doctors visit fading into the background.

Daisy's Diner was a kind of kitchy throwback dinner, but Jim loved it. The diner had been created by a retired Starfleet instructor, Dale Johansen, and his wife. Dale had taught introductory chemistry at Starfleet for years where he met and married Lissan P'Trell of Andora. Two years ago the couple had moved back to Riverside and become the first interspecies couple to live in the small town. Jim could remember the stir it caused at the time, but fortunately the people of the town were generally kind and after they got to know Lissan, they had welcomed her into the fold. It didn't hurt that Lissan had a fondness for 20th century Earth cultures.

About four months after moving into town she had opened a small roadside style diner. It was this beautiful steal building with wide windows stretching the length of the front and side, with sun yellow cloth awnings, gentle curves at the corners, and a red rooftop. The steal walls looked like high end corrugated steal that turned into Greek style columns at the corners. Jim loved the classic look of it, as if it had been there since before the Eugenics War. But then Jim loved old things. Old buildings, old cars, paper books. He just loved the look of them, the feel of them, and even the smell (of the books at least).

Jim had thought on more than one occasion that as lovely as the diner was it wasn't near as lovey as its owner. Lissan was the only member of Starfleet that Jim had met who did not cared that he was the son of Captain George Kirk. She treated him like he was anyone else, with a warm smile when he was nice, and a swift kick to the rear when he was causing trouble. Jim had started to think she might be the closest thing to a Mom that he would ever get. True they didn't socialize outside of the diner any more than a a quick 'Hello, how are you' kinda deal, but at least she thought of him as a person and not a legacy.

Ignoring the looks he got for still being a girl, Jim followed Scott into the diner and to a booth in the corner. It had a wide set of windows giving them a nice view of the parking lot, as well as granting them some privacy since there was only one booth next to them and it was empty. Lissan an smiled at them from the counter were she was setting down a large plate filled with eggs, hash browns, and a steak.

Jim gave her a lopsided smile as she moved from behind the counter to where they were sitting.

"How are you two gentlemen doing today?"

Scott chuckled and smiled widely up at her, his foot nudging Jim's beneath the table. "Not bad, though I'm sure Jim here has had a better day."

"Oh," she said, concern heavy in her voice.

Jim grumbled and crossed his arms over his tender chest. "I had to go to the doctor but got stuck with Dr. Buechi. The ass."

Lissan nodded knowingly. "I hate getting stuck seeing him too. So I've started requesting appointments with Starfleet doctors instead."

"You do?"

"Yup. Anyone currently, formerly, or the child of, a Starfleet officer, can get free medical coverage through Starfleet." Her brows lowered, eyes narrowing as she looked at Jim. "Did your mother not tell you?"

Jim shrugged, pretending for all he was worth that the comment didn't hurt. "Haven't seen her since elementary school."

Lissan cursed a blue streak in Andorii. "Then a Starfleet rep should have been sent to you after she went on her first long term mission to go over your benefits as her son."

Jim glanced away, uncomfortable with her anger on his behalf. He wasn't used to it. He was used to the carefully hidden looks of pity, and the not so carefully hidden looks of disdain or frustration. But rarely, if ever, had anyone looked so righteously angry on his behalf.

"Well," she huffed, scowl in place. "I will make you a copy of the documents regarding benefits to spouses and children of Starfleet employees, and I will most definitely to speaking to someone at Starfleet about their oversight."

"It's alright-"

"It is not," she replied, cutting Jim off sharply. "You are a child in the eyes of your people and the Federation. You should not be having to worry about these kinds of things."

Jim's eyes widened, his cheek flushing a bright strawberry red before he could jerk his head downward, allowing the longer bangs to hide his face somewhat. Nervously, he tugged at his shirt. Scott watched him carefully from across the table, his foot a solid presence against the side of Jim's own. Jim really didn't know how to handle this kind of situation, and the embarrassment he felt about someone actually seeming to care, and making that care loudly public, compounded the problem.

Lissan huffed out her annoyance once more before bringing herself back under control. Ignoring the other patrons that were now watching them, she quickly asked for their orders, ruffled Jim's hair for good measure, and then stomped off towards the kitchen.

Scott's smiled widened until it took up practically all his face. Jim glanced up at him from under his bangs and blushed harder at the amused expression, before turning to stair out the window as if he wasn't embarrassed by the whole thing.

====Spock=== 3===Kirk===

Several Hours Later; Kirk Family Farm

Jim flopped back onto his bed. It had been a long day, even with Scott's help in town and on the farm. He was truly grateful for all the help Scott, and his Dad, had been providing. But part of him was angry over it as well. Not so much at them, as at his own family and himself. Jim had practically run the farm on his own since he was ten and Sam ran away. He hadn't needed help then, so he shouldn't need it now. Hell, they didn't even have as many animals or crops to manage as they did back then.

Jim pressed the heels of his palms over his eyes.

He was just so tired all the time recently. He never seemed to get enough sleep, and there never seemed to be enough time in the day to do everything he needed to do. He still had so many unfinished projects on the house itself to fix. There was a loose patch of roofing above the master bedroom, there were termites eating at the back pouch stairs, the windows needed to be re-sealed, and the whole house needed to be painted again. All of that we're only the outside problems! They didn't even cover the problems he had found inside the house, and Jim was so very grateful that Spock and his family, had not noticed, or commented on any if they had noticed, all the problems. Even with the money coming in from the back fifty being rented out, Jim didn't have enough money free on hand to restore the house to its glory and keep the animals and himself fed.

He didn't want to carry these burdens. He should be free to party and go wild like all his classmates. But he wasn't. He was trapped playing adult before he was even legally allowed to vote! So of course that meant he couldn't really afford college as well. Which left him trapped here in Riverside without any future.

Jim groaned and rolled over onto his belly, burying his face into Spock's pillow. He needed help to run the farm, he needed money to fix the house, and he needed money and time for college. He needed a job if he wanted money, but he didn't have time for more work. Rolling over again, Jim glared at the bottom of the bunk above him as if it was the source of all his problems and all the answers.

He knew what he had to do. He knew what he wanted to do. And he knew what he should do. The first thing he should do is see if Scott was willing to keep helping him with the work around the farm so Jim could try to fix what little he could of the house on the limited funds he had access to at the bank as a minor. Scott was a nice guy and Jim was worried that he was taking advantage of that kindness by asking Scott for so much help when Scott should be preparing for college. But what other choice did Jim have? Jim did not have any family left in Riverside. Perhaps even in Iowa. Perhaps even on earth. He had no clue as to where his mother was currently stationed. And he certainly had no clue as to where his older brother could be right now. His aunt and Uncle were dead now, and Frank was gone. Of course even when Frank was here his help was not an option. While Frank had had a steady paycheck, which he always cashed out and left sitting around, he really didn't do anything else that was at all helpful. In fact things were better with him gone because now he could not ruin what Jim had already fixed.

"Happy thoughts, Jim," he mumbled to himself. "You've gotta think happy thoughts."

Sitting up Jim reached over to pick up the PADD sitting on his desk. He knew the pass codes to the encryption by heart now, he had looked at the files contained on it so often. After Shrroden nearly got a hold of it Jim wasn't willing to give anyone else the chance to see the pictures, or video, that Spock had left him with. They were meant for Jim's eyes only and Jim planned to keep it that way.

Jim paused, holding the PADD in his hand. He wanted to see Spock's face, needed to see it, but he wasn't sure that pictures were going to be enough. He wanted Spock here with him. He wanted the safety and comfort of Spock's strong presence beside him. His life was spinning out of control and as much as he wanted to pretend it would all be okay, it wasn't. His heart was pounding wildly in his chest so hard he thought it might burst out of his chest while he sat there gasping, and trying not to cry.

He dropped the PADD and grabbed at his chest, leaning forward so his head was between his knees. He hadn't felt this panicked since Tarsus IV. He had been sure he was past this. He hadn't had a panic attack, or something resembling it in years. He was better than this. Sure everyone had left him. Sure his house was falling apart. Sure he had no source of income. Sure he might be pregnant with an alien baby. But he was alive. He had a real friend for the first time since Tarsus IV. He no longer had to worry about Frank. Things were actually pretty decent in his life. Not great. Not even good. But not bad enough that he had to break down like he had in that cave years ago, after watching all those people be murdered.

Taking a long, deep breath, Jim closed his eyes and focused on calming down. It took a few minutes, but once his heart didn't feel like it was going to jump out of his chest, Jim sat back up and opened his eyes.

If he thought about it positively, then this wasn't a bad one. It hadn't lasted more than five minutes. Before they had last for half an hour or longer. This was good. It was likely just triggered by his worry over what would happen next, and his exhaustion. If he could work something out with Scott to help around the farm, and if he maybe traded some of his crops or extra milk, he might be able to get some of the supplies he needed to fix the house, or the labor for things like the faulty wiring in the dinning room, to be fixed without draining what little savings he had access to. It would be hard, harder than it had when Frank was here, but it could be done. He could do this.

====Spock=== 3===Kirk===

Day 27; 7:25 am, Kirk Family Farm

Jim had never been more happy to wake up and not feel like he was going to toss his cookies, than he was this morning. Scott and his dad were coming over today to help him fix the roof, and Jim had pulled some money from savings to pay for an exterminator to get ride of the termites. He had already taken care of Betsy and the chickens, and he still had an hour at least until the others got here. Stretching, Jim decided to finish cleaning out the master bedroom. He had only started last night and it would likely take another day or two at the rate he was going. But he needed to do it. Anything of Frank's left behind was going to be tossed or burned, and as for his mother's things...well, he supposed he could donate the clothes and decide on the rest individually.

Heading up the stairs Jim snagged the PADD he used in school and opened the file he had created last night to catalogue all the items in the house. He had started it almost three years ago after he noticed some missing items. Once he knew Frank was stealing stuff and selling it off he was able to talk to the local police, not that they could do anything since he was Winona's husband and was a legal owner of the stuff. But it had made Jim feel better to keep a record of all his family belongs, and to make sure other people knew Frank was selling them. And when a few items mysteriously showed up in the barn a couple weeks later, Jim had only been able to silently thank whoever had returned them.

Setting the PADD down on the dresser, Jim opened the top drawer and began pulling out the clothes, setting them down on the bed before going back for more. It was only a matter of minutes to empty all six drawers of their contents. Jim gazed sadly at the pile of clothes. Frank must have taken most of his own, but left all of his mothers things behind. There were three silk nightgowns, a heavy pair of women's flannel winter pajamas, and one cotton nightgown. There had been two pairs of blue jeans, one pair of khaki shorts, two sweaters, and ten teeshirts. There had been no underwear, for which Jim had been extremely grateful. Opening one of the cardboard boxes he had picked up the other day while in town, Jim began filling it with the clothes.

As he picked up the final piece of clothing, a thick wool sweater with a reindeer pulling a starship, Jim paused. A flash of memory flickered through his mind. It was from years ago, before Tarsus, before his mother left. When they had been a family.

He could remember snow piled up on the roof and all over the yard, his breath a thick fog, and his Mom sitting on the porch laughing as Sam threw a snowball at them, their wolf/german shepherd hybrid, Thor, barking and bouncing through the storm. His near entirely black fur frosted in white from the snow, pink tongue lolling about, tail wagging furiously. Jim could remember crying out as the snowball hit the back of his neck, dripping down his spine and then Sam panicked cry as Thor toppled him over as he bounded past, their mom nearly falling over from laughing so hard.

Jim set the sweater back down on the bed.

He had picked out the sweater for his mom for Christmas. His grandfather Tiberius had been the one to take him out to pick out her gift. And Thor…Thor had been the last gift his grandfather had given him. His grandfather had found him in the local pound. No one had wanted to buy a dog that was a quarter wolf, worried that the animal would hurt them. But his grandfather hadn't been afraid and neither had Jim. Thor had been the best friend he ever had, and the most loyal. After his grandfather died and his mother left, Thor had been the only one capable of protecting Sam and him from Frank. And that memory of the day in the snow was one of the last happy memories he had with his mom.

"Jim," called Scott from downstairs.

Shaking himself free from the memories, Jim turned and left the room, softly closing the door behind him.

"Coming," he called back.

Scott and his father were standing in the hall by the stairwell, looking up at him. Scott had a wide welcoming smile stretching across his face as Jim approached. Jim felt heat pulse in his cheeks and pushed it away. Spock had proposed to him, and he planned to be faithful until they could meet again. So he could ignore the warm feelings that he felt occasionally for Scott. It was nothing more than gratitude after all.

"What time is the exterminator getting here," asked Mr. Freedman.

"Not for another," Jim looked at the battered watch on his wrist, "two hours."

"Well then." He clapped his hands together. "If you are ready we've got the supplies unload and on the porch. We can start fixing it up."

"Alright." Jim made his way down the last few steps. "Let's get to work."

Scott smiled and draped his arm over Jim's shoulder. "You feeling any better?"

"I didn't throw up this morning if that is what you are wanting to know."

"That's good." Scott leaned in closer, whispering into his ear. "Are you sure you aren't…you know?"

"The doctor said no, but I haven't went out and bought a test myself."

"Maybe you should."

"Maybe," Jim whispered, one handwriting out to briefly touch his stomach.

The rest of the day passed in pleasant companionship. Scott and Jim laughing as they worked on replacing the shingles, Mr. Freedman laughing at them as Scott caught his thumb with a hammer on more than one occasion. When the exterminator came Jim, was happy to get off the roof for a while. So he ended up cooking up some tacos for lunch, and stirring up a pitcher of lemonade. Sitting together and eating the lunch Jim had made, the three simply enjoy the breeze wafting by. For the first time in weeks, Jim felt relaxed and happy.

At least until his stomach rebelled and he was forced to run inside, barely making it to the bathroom before he lost his lunch. By the time he had finished, his chest and stomach ached from the muscles spasming and everything taste of bile. It didn't seem like he could wash his mouth out fast enough.

"You doing alright, son," Mr. Freedman ask from where he stood in the doorway.

"Yeah." Jim rinsed his mouth one last time, spitting it back into the sink before turning around to look at the older man, one hand rubbing at his lips to wipe away anything left behind. "The doctor said I was fine."

"Which doctor?"

"Dr. Buechi."

"Buechi," Mr. Freedman scoffed. "That man is hardly a doctor. He's a quack and his license should have been revoked a decade ago."

"Not gonna argue that," Jim said, slumping down on the covered lip of the toilet.

"How long have you been sick?"

"Not long."

"Jim," Mr. Freedman gazed at him.

"Since just before the graduation ceremony." Jim looked down at his shoes, not comfortable looking up at his best friends father. He wasn't sure he was pregnant, but he was embarrassed by the possibility all the same. "But it's just a flu! Really!"

Mr. Freedman looked him over, his gazed telling Jim just how much the man didn't believe him. But, with a grand sigh, he relented. "If you are still sick next week I am taking you in to a real doctor myself. Understood?"

"Yes sir."

====Spock=== 3===Kirk===

Day 28; 4:25 pm, Shi'kar, Vulcan

T'Pring was in a quandary. As the future wife to the heir of the house of Surak, she held a position of importance that could only grown with time. It was a position of significance among her people. It was a great boon for her clan that she had been chosen by Elder T'Pau to be the wife of S'chn T'gai Spock. Now however, she saw it more as a noose around her neck. Spock was aesthetically pleasing, he had the highest IQ in their age group, and the highest test scores in the schools history.

But... He was half human. Something their fellows saw as a sin against their cultural heritage, and genetic superiority. So long as she was to be his wife his sin would cast a heavy shadow over her own achievements. She did not like to admit that for 3.25 years after their betrothal she had been angry, her emotions getting the better of her for the first time in her life. Since then she had come to understand that her year mates actions were not worthy of IDIC. She had begun to find herself of the opinion that life as Spock's wife would not be the handicap she had assumed as a child. His humanity was no longer a problem for her. Her skills and intelligence was nearly as great as his own, and she was more than capable of defending her honor, and proving her worth to any doubters.

So she had done her best to cultivate a peaceful relationship with her Sa-kugalsu. Things were going more smoothly between them, and for a wistful moment she had even contemplated that she might come to feel affection for him. But approximately 26 days ago something had changed everything. She had felt it. A change in their betrothal bond. Something she had not recognized until she consulates some of the oldest documents the VSA had on record in their library.

A T'hy'la bond had formed between Spock and someone else.

From this moment on she could only be the second best in his affections. It hurt more than she expected. Perhaps, after all this time, she truly did feel affection for Spock. It could not hurt this much to lose her place as his primary wife for she had no real desire for political power. Her family machinations for great social power where of little concern to her. All she wanted from life was freedom to learn, study, experiment, and...love. So the answer, though it was distinctly un-Vulcan, could be nothing more than jealousy that the man who was hers had fallen for another.

For a week she quietly contemplated her options. Should she say nothing and marry him as was expected, spending the rest of her life married to a man who had such a profound bond with another? Could she survive living her life cast in its shadow? Or did she address the matter with Spock and request he break the bond with his T'hy'la? No, she did not think she could withstand the guilt of destroying something so innocently beautiful and rare as what she had briefly seen beyond his shields. Her only other option was P'pil'lay. To sever the bond between Spock and herself before his Pon Farr. Itseemed the wisest option. She did not want to be someone's second choice. She deserved to be someone's first choice. Her family would scorn her choice, calling it an emotional weakness, but from her time with Spock she had learned that emotions hardly made one weak. If anything she thought Spock might be the strongest person she knew because he faced his emotions.

Having carefully thought the matter and all its ramifications over, T'Pring left the school at the end of the learning period and headed to the house of Elder T'Pau, matriarch of the House of Surak. She would approach the matriarch about the bond she felt form between Spock and another, and ask her opinion on how the matter could be resolved with the least amount of offense to all involved parties. Her hope, though Vulcans did not hope, was that the elder would be of the same mind as herself. That the betrothal bond should be broken, and T'Pring allowed to go her own way or be bonded to another of the clan. This would be the best option to appease her parents and clan. They would still find insult with her not being bonded to the heir, but none could deny Spock's right, or her's, to have the bond broken now that he had located his T'hy'la.

With a renewed conviction that what she planed was the right course, she waved her hand in front of the sensor by the door. From beyond the doorway she could hear the light chime of the bells, followed by the soft footfalls of an adult approaching the door. When it was opened she was unsurprised to be greeted by a tall, stately male Vulcan dressed in impeccably tailored robes.

"I would speak with elder T'Pau if it would cause no inconvenience."

The male inclined his head and stepped back, allowing her to enter. "You may leave your shoes here."

"Very well," she replied, calmly slipping each shoe off and setting it in the wooden cupboard beside the door. Accepting the pair of house slippers from the cupboard below, she turned and followed the man further into the home. She did her best to face forward as she followed behind, not wanting offend by displaying any curiosity before the older man. The walk took but moments as he led she down a short hall to a wooden door, which slid back along the wall with but the lightest touch. He paused by the open doorway and waved her inside.

"I shall announce your presence."

"My thanks," she replied as he again inclined his head towards before before sliding the door closed, leaving her in the small sitting room.

Alone now, she allowed herself the luxury of looking about the room, taking in the smooth plaster wall, rich wood flooring, and the numerous antiques that decorated the shelves on one wall. Opposite the door she had entered through was another sliding door, this one of opaque glass. Stepping closer she placed her hand against it, watching it change to its transparent form, giving her a view of the carefully tended lap-bah-ker. It was well maintained, and she could not be but impressed at the sight of so many native plants bearing fruit planted alongside fruit trees from she was not mistaken she though she might have even seen what appeared to be an several aloe planets, and blue agave planets, hidden off to the sides behind the trees.

"Hard work and dedication is rarely unrewarded," came a strong, cultured voice from behind her.

Turning away from the view of the orchard, T'Pring inclined her head in agreement, before moving to sit in one of the plush high-back chairs seated around the round table at the center of the room where T'Pau was already sitting, pouring tea into two porcelain teacups. "Your hard work on the lap-bah-ker does you credit. I have never seen one flourish so."

T'Pring took the tea cup from the elders hands, careful to ensure their fingers did not touch even briefly. The aroma wafting up from the cup was not one she was familiar with. It was light and fragrant, smelling of a fruit she could not name. It was not at all unpleasant.

"My daughter-in-law sent that to me from Earth. They were introduced to it from a young man that welcomed them briefly into his home."

"It is more than adequate in flavor," T'Pring replied after a careful sip. She thought briefly of the bond shed sensed. Was the human who chose this tea the one who had created the bond with Spock? "I cannot name this flavor."

"It is a blend which includes an Earth fruit called the huckleberry. I have been told that there are several varieties of the berry and that the one in this tea is the Red Huckleberry native to the Pacific Northwest of the North American continent."

Several more minutes passed between them as they slowly drank their cup of tea. Vulcans were little for unnecessary conversation, and as such T'Pring did not feel compelled to fill the silence.

While she did not know elder T'Pau well, she could say that the silence between them was hardly a hardship. There was less strain between them than she felt admits her own family, who had perchance, sensed that she was unsure of her future bonding. Had they known she had been contemplating her options for the future both as Spock's wife and as the woman who would chose not to marry him? If they did it would not deter her.

Setting down her teacup, T'Pring straightened her spine and faced the matriarch of her sa-kugalsu Spock's clan. "I would address the matter of my bonding with S'chn T'gai Spock."

One of T'Pau's brown arched elegantly up her forehead, before carefully lowering back into place. "Speak your mind."

"It has come to my attention that a spontaneous bond has formed between Spock and another while he has been on Earth."

"Indeed?"

Feeling the tingle of fear at her spine lesson, T'Pring continued. "After careful research into the matter it is my conclusion that he has formed a T'hy'la bond. Though this cannot be confirmed without a meld by one more experienced than I."

T'Pau said nothing in response, just waited quietly, her elbows resting on top of her knees, fingertips touching each other, forming a steeple.

Taking a steadying breath, T'Pring continued. "If it should be a T'hy'la bond I would request that we undergo P'pil'lay. It would not serve either Spock or myself to share a full bond when his true match has already been met."

"And if it is not a T'hy'la bond," asked T'Pau.

"Then I will consent to the existing arrangement as long as Spock is in agreement."

====Spock=== 3===Kirk===

Translations:

1.) Sa-kugalsu – fiancé; a man to whom a woman is engaged to be married.
2.) T'hy'la: friend-lover-lifelong companion, blood brother/sister; soulmate; soul-brother/sister
3.) P'pil'lay – divorce; the severing of a mind-link between bonded couples