Captain's Log: Second last chapter! I'm speechless, for once, so read on.

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CHAPTER 10: PRECIPICE

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Spock: Where would you estimate we belong, Miss Keeler?

Edith Keeler: You? At his side, as if you've always been there and always will.

-- the City on the Edge of Forever, TOS

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Eventually, it was time the face reality and reconnect Jim with the outside world, now that he was well enough to stand the pressure. They took Suvok's shuttle to Earth with Sarek's clearance that was able to get them through the port without too much trouble, getting Jim out of sight before anyone could recognise him and start a scene. They had agreed with the Admiral to have a press conference to tell the public, since all of those close to Jim already knew.

Spock watched Jim all the time on the ride to the Starfleet headquarters, noting that he was still thin and weakened by his ordeal.

You're staring again, Spock. His amused thought came. I'm okay, really.

I will believe that when we get through today.

And he was. Despite the original pandemonium of the press conference when they walked in and the reporters went ballistic, it had gone well; he had answered all the questions patiently and succinctly, even when some reporters were abominably rude in inquiring after his health and state of mind. Spock noted their names and posts with precision, promising silently to follow their movements over the next few days. They looked to be the types of journalists that would go to any lengths to get a scoop, even an unconfirmed one. The last thing they needed was an overeager member of the paparazzi following their every move.

I enjoyed that. Jim thought sarcastically. He both loved and hated the publicity; he was a natural in the spotlight, but he could see how hollow the glitter of celebrity was when he had a job to do. Can I meet my crew now?

Certainly.

To Jim's delight, they had organised a massive party in a disused hanger, and the reunions and revelries lasted well into that night. Jim was the centre of all attention, and he was obviously ecstatic to meet everyone again. Spock tolerated most of his antics, stopping short of allowing him too much alcohol or exertions beyond his recommendations. Jim complained sourly that he was a bad as Bones sometimes, an assertion that Spock took in his stride.

It was only through Spock's firm insistence that Jim tore himself away from (a slightly tipsy and rather teary) Chekov, and headed back to their rooms.

On the way there, Jim's thoughts were all of happiness and bubbly optimism.

That was fantastic, seriously... I can't imagine what they would have gone through, but it's great to see that it all turned out in the end.

Indeed.

Spock was included in that category... what he had 'gone through'. What he had suffered for Jim had changed him irreparably, somehow shifting his identity to something foreign and unexplored. That would have frightened him once; now he was merely eager to discover himself once again.

Jim had kept up a constant stream of chatter, even as Spock escorted him into Jim's quarters. It was barely better than a motel room in terms of size and facilities, but then again, Starfleet was an essentially military institution; comfort was not an issue.

By the way, since when was I so adept at this mental communication thingy? Is it classed as telepathy? He shook his hair away from his eyes again, which seemed to be drooping slightly with fatigue.

Spock refused to look directly at Jim, unsure of where this conversation would go. Telepathy is an adequate description.

What brought it on?

Spock had to think quickly. I have not yet discovered the potential of this bond. It may have several connotations that-

Liar.

"Excuse me, Jim?" Spock said aloud, cocking an eyebrow at the accusation.

"You don't intentionally lie often, Spock, but I can spot it when it happens. You know more than you're letting on," Jim said shrewdly. "And you usually have a good reason for it, but don't think that I'll let you off on that score."

"It is true, Jim, that I have some inkling as to the origins and purpose of our mental bond," He sighed. "Vulcans are well versed in this practice."

"Details, Spock, details," Jim insisted. "It's happening to us- why?"

"It can be the case that trauma victims bond through their shared experience." Spock explained quietly, opening the door to Jim's room with a swipe of his card. They were single-berth, but Spock had managed to get two rooms with a connecting door between them, just in case Jim needed him at any point. The lights came on, pulsing softly in the contained and sparse room. Jim followed close behind him, still peppering him with sharp questions. It was obvious to Spock that Jim had been holding these questions in for a while, until what he judged to be the right time.

"Why don't you just say it, Spock? We both know it goes deeper than that." Jim insisted. Spock examined his expression closely; he was aggravated, tinged with sadness at Spock's refusal to open up.

As usual, he was showing exceptional reasoning skills. There were times when Spock wished he wasn't friends with a genius. "You are correct, Jim... there is more."

"I deserve to know." He now looked slightly hurt, and Spock was overwhelmed with the wish to tell him everything.

Spock acknowledged the point with a single swift nod. "Vulcans and humans have had a troubled past in terms of contact. There have been precious few examples of cross-bonding, one of which was my counterpart's meld with you on Delta Vega."

"Not a pleasant experience, I assure you. He was in kind of a hurry," Jim said with his supreme talent for understatement. "Let me throw a theory out there for you, from what I know."

"By all means." Spock took the only seat in the room, pressing his fingers into a familiar posture of intense concentration and control, even if he didn't feel in control. It was a comfort thing.

Jim began to pace, with only a slight limp to impede his relentless steps. He soon stopped, and faced Spock directly, his blue eyes drilling into Spock's dark eyes. "Sure, the trauma was the defining moment in this process- you asked me to stop and stay calm in that cell, so I did. You gave me instructions, and I followed them. All well and good... except that I believe we were already connected."

Spock gave no indication of his own feelings on Jim's theory, letting him run on ahead. Internally, he was spinning. He had come to the same conclusion... they had often had moments on the Bridge, in tense situations, where they had either predicted each other's actions or acted in perfect synchronicity, like they were an eminently suited diving team. Although this kind of harmony with a First Officer was almost standard in Starfleet, it went deeper than merely understanding each other's actions. Obviously, those moments had not been lost on Jim.

He continued, warming to his subject quickly. "I've done some research, you know. That kind of link flares up in crisis situations, but we can use it all the time. It's deeper than telepathy; it reaches into the subconscious itself, shown when you dragged me back from mental oblivion in my illness," He smiled slightly, coming to a halt. "I know you're not one for empty phrases, so I'll call on Exhibit A, no matter how much you protest. I have a direct quotation here..." He pointed to his head with a slightly melodramatic flick of his hand. "I believe you said... 'Fight for me. I need you. Please.'" His voice had sunk to a serious rasp that tore at Spock.

Spock tensed, but remained silent. He could remember all too well what he had said, and what he had meant. Jim looked slightly uneasy at bringing it up, as though he expected Spock to walk out on him. Needless to say, he stayed put.

"It wasn't so much the words you said, though... it was how you said it- with utter conviction. You really believed that..." Jim was beginning to show signs of strain, his impassioned speech and the long day taking its toll. "...that you couldn't live without me."

"Jim, please..." Spock interrupted finally, unable to take the strength that his silence was taking to maintain. Jim looked at him expectantly, waiting for the response.

Spock knew exactly what he wanted to say, but he didn't know if he should. As much as he loathed the morally grey area, that was where he was treading. No turning back; step by step towards an unknown fate, through a door that could lead to heaven or hell. How could he possibly trust in what Jim was might think, what he might feel in return? Suddenly, all words left him. His precious vocabulary, the pride in his speech, flew away into the sky with his common sense and slammed the window behind them.

Jim had sat down, perched on the edge of his bed, waiting for Spock to pull himself together. Finally, the Vulcan shook his head.

"I cannot tell you, Jim," He held up his hand to the expected protest about to come from Jim. "But I can show you."

He slowly rose to his feet and advanced, his hand already forming into the mind meld position. Jim's eyes were trusting and clear, almost too much so. Spock sat down beside him first, knowing that this could drain his strength despite his abilities. Jim's eyes flickered shut, his eyelids only twitching slightly when he reached out his hand and gently, precisely, placed them along Jim's face...

Then, without warning, any barriers between them dissolved in a flash of mental perception and mutual understanding, and Spock silently communicated to Jim the truth, and nothing but the truth.

Jim hissed in a breath as the flood of emotion from Spock's subconscious hit his own mind, and then allowed it to wash over him. The thoughts were fluid, shifting and dancing through his mind like the flashing of a rainbow. He honestly couldn't find the words to describe the utter vulnerability between them, and how he also shrank away from such contact. Tentatively, clumsily, he allowed himself to join the whirlwind with his own feelings, and the two minds danced and interwove with all the ease and confidence of a planetary pattern governed by gravity. It was unavoidable, intentional, and even essential. Jim had never felt so accepted in his life, and now in the mental embrace of his greatest friend, he found peace.

The words were there, inside the splashes of emotion. Words like only, always, everything, love. It was the evidence of the silent bond that had always drawn them together, and was now Jim's very reason to keep breathing. The depth of Spock's emotion and Jim's own acceptance and reciprocation surprised him, and then delighted and inspired him.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but when he had retreated into his own thoughts and locked away the wild subconscious, he became aware of a blinding headache. He wasn't sure when he had lay down, but when he came to, there was someone bending over him.

"Spock?" He mumbled, trying to see past the glare of the lights.

"You wish," Bones' unmistakable voice came to him, tinged with amusement. "It's the good doctor here for your check-up."

Jim groaned, shutting his eyes briefly before trying to face the day. His mouth was dry and his eyes were gritty from his sleep, but he managed to sit up and at least try to look presentable.

"I'm fine, Bones, leave it..." Jim said unconvincingly. Maybe he shouldn't have had that glass of champagne... or danced so much on his leg, as it was throbbing uncomfortably... or...

He suddenly remembered with startling clarity what he had done on return to his room.

"What is that look for, Jim? It looks like you've seen a ghost," Bones frowned, starting to run his sensors over Jim's torso. "I'm just glad you've had a good sleep."

Jim glanced at his wristwatch, which had imprinted his cheek with its geometric links. It was 1600. "Why'd you let me sleep, Bones? I had stuff I wanted to do today!"

"Not me, Jim. Spock said you shouldn't be disturbed," Bones deflected the blame. "I definitely wasn't complaining, though."

Jim tried to shake off his negativity. "How was the rest of the party? Anything interesting happen?"

Bones' bright red face was a definite indication that something interesting happened.

"Aha! I knew it! Come on, spill," Jim grinned, glad to have the attention turned away from himself. "And don't think of holding back, I have contacts everywhere."

"Dammit, Jim!" Bones groaned, sinking onto the bed beside his captain. "Uhura and I..."

Jim raised a surprised eyebrow. "Indeed? Do continue."

"Don't give me that cocky look, young man, you know exactly what I mean!"

"I'm not a mind reader, Bones, and I want details."

"Last time I checked you were a mind reader," Bones muttered to himself, remembering the incident in the shuttle. "Uhura.... we're together now." He went even redder, but a dreamy expression came across his hardened features.

Jim slapped him on the back. "Congrats! I knew someone would succeed where I had failed. Good luck to you, she's a very- opinionated- woman." He thought for a moment. "Wait, so are you- you're prefect! Why didn't I see it before?" He comically and dramatically hit his forehead with his hand.

Bones snorted, his smile widening as he remembered their night of dancing and celebration. "Because you were officially dead at the time, I suppose."

Jim enjoyed the banter that passed between them, as it took his mind off a much larger issue.

He was forced to think about it when Bones eventually left, promising that he would come back that evening to take the officers out for dinner, on Starfleet's bill for a bonus incentive. He also mentioned in passing that Spock was at the lab and would be back within the hour.

It came back with clarity. Spock. Last night. The whole shared ordeal, complete with soulful revelations.

He didn't regret it in any way; the only problem that he could see was in his propensity to ruin every relationship he came across. Despite that, he knew that this was unique. Spock wasn't just another girl, not even another man. He was Vulcan. He was his First Officer. He was his best friend. He was Spock.

What could he do?

What did he want to happen?

Captain's Log, Supplement: This is the part where I apologise for dumping a cliff hanger onto your screen. Believe me, it was the only place that I could possibly break up the conclusion.

In addition, I'm moving cities, so the last update may be a little bit late. But do not fret, I'm going to try my best to finish soon!