Jim stood in the hall outside his First Officer's quarters. He had waited four days since the delivery of the recovered artifacts to New Vulcan before deciding to make this visit. For one thing, it gave Spock and Uhura a chance to thoroughly discuss the events surrounding the kashek-shoret wak, argue, make up, have make-up sex, and return to normal. For another, well... some things couldn't be rushed.

He buzzed for entrance and then stood waiting, hands clasped behind his back in Spock's habitual pose.

The door slid open, and Spock stood revealed in the entrance.

"Am I interrupting anything?" Jim asked.

"No. You may enter."

Spock's room was as tidy and disciplined as the mind that had precisely arranged the various artifacts on the walls and shelves. The collection lent his quarters a brooding and exotic nature. Jim glanced at the shelf where Spock kept his meditation candles and incense burner. There was a spot, just there, that would be perfect. He hid his smile.

If Spock was curious, he covered it well. His expression was languid as he asked, "Is there something I can do for you, Captain?"

"Not really. I just wanted to give you this." And Jim held forth the item he'd been hiding behind his back.

It was a clear glass globe, smooth and unadorned, about the size of a teacup. Inside it, sealed within a xenon atmosphere, lay nearly a cup of fine powder, varying in hue from brown to tan to pink to red. Occasional bits of sand or stone were speckled randomly throughout.

Spock went absolutely still. Reverently, he took the globe from Jim. His gaze was intent and his eyes were black. He examined it, wonderingly.

"It's from the cargo bay," Jim explained. "After we beamed the consignment down, I sent in a squad of techs with micro-cleaners to sweep the floor, especially where the big statues had stood. Of course, we got a lot of garbage with the grit, so for the last three days the geological staff has been working around the clock, sifting the takings grain by grain. They even held a subspace consultation with the Geologic Association earlier this afternoon, to clarify some pieces that were in dispute. They finished just a couple of hours ago. What you're holding in your hand right now is pure Vulcan."

Spock slowly turned the globe in his hand, his eyes devouring it from every angle. His throat worked, but he didn't speak.

"It was the best-kept secret on the ship," Jim continued. "Scotty was terrified that one of his technicians would talk. Lumley had fits every time she passed you in the hall, fearing that you'd read her mind. Personally, I was worried that you'd notice the duty logs had been fudged. You run a very efficient ship, Mr. Spock. It's hard to get anything by you."

Spock could not take his gaze from the glass ball. He revolved it pensively between his fingers. "Thank you, Captain." His voice was thick.

Jim shuffled his feet. He enjoyed Vulcan baiting—it was almost his favorite sport, next to Uhura-baiting. But seeing this—Spock's raw emotions breaking forth from some deep-seated cause, rather than a superficial reaction to some momentary jest—was almost too intense for him to bear.

Jim cleared his throat. "They might be able to keep you off their colony, but they can't keep you from this. You are the possessor of what is probably the largest remaining piece of Vulcan in existence. I think—" Jim's voice caught, but he forced himself to go on. "I feel as if Survok would have wanted you to have it. I think he was guarding it for you all along."

Spock nodded. Slowly he turned, and approached the meditation shelf. He set the globe, just there—the very spot that Jim had noticed earlier. He remained still, staring at it, his back to Jim.

Suddenly Jim's throat became too tight for words. Giving Spock a silent salute, he let himself out the door.