Chapter 10

July 2248 - Day 67; 0930 VST, Planet Vulcan, House of Surak

Spock thanked the Vulcan male and closed the door, looking down at the letter in his hand. The recycled paper felt heavy against his fingers, and illogically, he felt a pulse of excitement race through him at the sight of it. The only person who sent him mail written by hand on such stationery was his Jim. They were his most treasured possessions, if a Vulcan was wont to having treasured possessions. He looked about the house, noting the silence and headed out to the back garden. The day was unusually mild for Vulcan, much closer to an Earth summer, being all of 80 degrees Fahrenheit, with a wind of 2 MPH coming from the east.

The garden at the back of their home was his mother's favorite part of the house. She spent an average of three hours a day outside tending to the plants. The largest part of the open air garden was made up of plants native to Vulcan, though there were a few edible desert plants from Earth mixed in amongst them. The far part of the garden, off to the side of the building, was his mother's personal favorite. It was a large greenhouse, dwarfed only by the greenhouses belonging to the VSA. It was carefully climate controlled and had a covered walkway leading from the greenhouse to what his mother called their 'mud room.' It was a simple room near one of the back entrances and the kitchen, used to store the clothes his mother used when tending the delicate Earth plants she grew in the greenhouse.

Spock was sure that Jim would also like the greenhouse his father had built for his mother as a wedding present. It was very large and the aroma of the flowering plants, fruit trees, vegetables, and even the koi pond, was quite pleasing to the senses. There was a intricately carved set of wooden benches set around the pond at the center of the garden, a place his mother had often sat to tell him stories when he was younger. It was these benches that Spock was headed to now. He had taken to coming to this location whenever he received a letter from Jim. It was quiet and private enough that he need not worry that one of his parents might see what Jim sent him, in the off-chance that Jim sent something similar to the photos they had taken together.

Spock took his place on the bench beneath the sakura tree. He had a good view of the garden, the pond, and the entrance. This would allow him time to return any private photos to the envelope before either of his parents could spot him. Spock set the letter on his lap, tracing over his name with one finger. Jim had written this, had put a pen to paper to write his name. He lingered over the envelope, pleased that his k'diwa had taken the time and effort to do this all by hand for him as a sign of her affection and regard.

The paper was a soft, buttery yellow color and the ink that Jim had used was a bright blue. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he was reminded of Jim by the coloring of the letter. Yellow for her hair, and blue for her eyes.

Finally, he flipped the envelope over and carefully lifted the sealed opening. The paper made a soft tearing sound that seemed loud in the otherwise silent garden. It opened smoothly and Spock breathed out calmly. He had nearly torn the first letter in two in his haste to open it. Since then he always took care to control himself when handling any of the letters from Jim. He should take as great a care with them as Jim took to write them.

Dear Spock,

I hope that things are going well for you on Vulcan. Everything is alright here for now. Mr. Freedman's son, Scott, has taken to helping me with the chores around the farm every day, so that I'm not so stressed out. It's been a great help since we've also started on more repairs. We put on a new roof. Well, I say we, but it was actually more people than just Scott and me doing that. I also had the bug guy come out to make sure we didn't have any termites eating through the walls of the house. There were a few, but we got them all. There is still a lot of work to do on the house though. I have to fix the support joints in the laundry room and parts of the pantry where the termites had ruined the supports, part of the wall will need to be replaced as well. Plus we still need to have an electrician come out to check the house over. It looks like there may be a bit of damage to the electric system as well. They don't reckon it's a hazard at this time, just that we'll likely lose power a bit easier than expected as the winter weather comes in.

Spock frowned at the paper. He was not pleased to hear that there was an unbounded, adolescent human male living in the house with his k'diwa. That was not at all a proper situation for his ko-kugalsu to be in. Mr. Freedman seemed to have been a perfectly fine man, and Spock did not doubt his honor and desire to protect Jim. But his son was another matter. Spock had not met this human, and was not as sure of him as he could be of Mr. Freedman, even if he was assisting around the house with the animals, garden, and repair work. All honorable things to assist Jim with. Still, Spock did not understand why this boy, Scott, was living with Jim. He should still be living in his father's household. Surely there was an elderly female who would be a better choice of house mate for his ko-kugalsu?

I know what you are thinking, but you don't have to worry. Scott is staying in the guest room downstairs where your parents were. If the power goes out or something else happens he'll be close enough to catch it fast. I don't think I really have anything to worry about, except for Scott leaving when he goes to college in the fall. He hasn't told me where he has applied to yet, but I'm sure it'll be impressive. He's almost as smart as you!

Spock scowled at the paper again, his fingers clenching at the paper until it crunched beneath them. The soft sound was enough to make him blink and rein in his controls. Jealousy was illogical. He knew that Jim was his k'diwa and would not dishonor their bonding. He had no reason to fear this other human's presence in Jim's home.

I thought you'd like to know that I got a job. It's not an important one or anything fancy. Just a job as a waiter at the local diner in the evenings. I help cover the diner rush to closing shift. It's hard work being on my feet for so long, but the tips are real good and that'll help with the cost for all the maintenance on the house. Apparently my step-father had a lot of debts and most of the money we've been getting from renting out some of our land, has been going to cover his gambling debts, bar tabs, etc. Mr. Freedman is helping me get a lawyer so that we can make sure that Frank's debts don't come out of my money, or the money my family was getting from Starfleet after my Dad's death on the Kelvin. Legally, my mom never gave Frank rights to the property, so all the money we were getting should not have been accessible to him. That's thousands of credits that he's stolen over the years! Money that should have gone into the house repairs, and to my college fund!

The lawyers aren't sure how long it'll take to get the reparations on what he's stolen. Hence the reason for the job. I was going to save up the money for college, and then just rent the whole of the farm, house and all, while I was away. Now it looks like I might have to take online classes instead. Possibly only a couple a year considering the cost of schooling, and what I'll need to pay to fix up the house and barn. I don't want you to think this means I've given up though! I haven't! I'm just going to have to put college aside for a year or two until all the legal crap has been taken care of. It could be a good thing though, since I'm not sure what I want to get a degree in. I'm thinking Computer Science or Engineering, but I'm not really sure. There are a lot of things that interest me that would be good options.

Spock found himself reining in his emotions again as he realized just how badly Jim's family had left her off. She was an exceedingly smart human. Smart enough she could have joined the VSA if she wanted, but because of the adults who were tasked with watching over her, that would not be feasible. Spock did not understand how any human adult could treat a human child the way Jim had been treated. Things would get better. They were getting better now that her previous guardian was no longer in the picture. Mr. Freedman would take much better care of her, for if he didn't he would have the wrath of the combined intelligence of the House of Surak put against him.

I'll let you know when I decide what to do. For now I think I'm going to focus on learning Vulcan, and maybe Denobulan, then completing all the basic courses that any degree would require. And maybe I'll still start the Computer Science course just for fun. I'm pretty good at hacking already. Not that I do, mind you! At least not any important sites. I hacked Starfleet once to read my father's service record, but they caught me and Admiral Archer actually came to the house! My mom was so embarrassed when she realized what I had done. I was like five years old then, so I don't think she thought I even knew how to turn on her computer terminal. Thankfully, Frank wasn't around then. Well, they were married already, for only a couple months, but he had an actual job at that time. So he wasn't there during the day, which was nice. I thought for the longest time that mom left because of that incident. That maybe she thought she had to go back to Starfleet so they wouldn't prosecute me for hacking their systems. I used to tell myself that was why she left. To protect me. I stopped believing that a few years later, when I realized it was more that she didn't like looking at me.

Anyway, that was depressing! Sorry!

Uh, how about I just tell you some of the local news instead of all this embarrassing "woe is me" crap?

We've got a serial killer in Iowa. Well, we don't know for certain, but the odds are pretty high. The first body was found 10 days ago, but they think he was dead for at least 2 days prior to the body being found. It was a really nasty one too. All five found so far have been nasty. The press is dubbing the killer the Iowa Ripper, after the infamous Jack the Ripper of London. The victims are both male and female, but all pretty similar in type. They have been spread out over a large area of Iowa though. So far bodies have been located in three cities. All of them show signs of having been beaten and sexually assaulted before being mutilated. It's really gruesome and Mr. Freedman won't let me go anywhere without him or Scott being with me. So one of them always drops me off at work and picks me up. Plus, Scott is basically living here at the house full time now as well, so you don't have to worry about anyone getting me alone here.

Spock nearly tore the paper in half as he finished reading the paragraph describing the brutal murders. Jim, his k'diwa, his ko-kuglasu, was in danger! There was someone killing people and he wasn't there to protect her!

Spock jumped to his feet, nearly falling into the koi pond in his haste to get out of the garden to where he could hire a ship back to Earth. He had to get back to his Jim! He simply couldn't allow her to be in danger when he was not there to protect her. He knew she was strong and capable, but if it was a serial killer he could not chance that the killer was more competent in combat than Jim was.

"Spock," called his mother. "What's wrong!"

Spock nearly did not come to a stop in time to prevent himself from crashing into his mother who had entered the green house carrying a large bag of fertilizer. "I apologize, mother, but I must get to a comm. I need to acquire transportation to Earth."

"Whatever for? We'll be leaving for Earth in only a few days."

"Jim is in danger."

"What?" She dropped the heavy bag on the ground in shock, her eyes wide. "What do you mean that Jim is in danger?"

"Jim has sent a letter detailing information that suggests their is a serial killer loose in Iowa. We cannot leave Jim to be harmed." Spock moved to hurry back into the house again, but his mother grabbed his arm. He was forced to stop moving lest he hurt her in his haste to get inside.

"You aren't going to rush into a dangerous situation, Spock."

"Jim-"

"Is more than capable of taking care of himself. There are people in Riverside who will be watching out for Jim."

"Mother, I must-"

"No," she said firmly. "We shall contact your father at his office in town and ask him to check on the situation. If it is dangerous then he can have someone from the consulate go to town to watch over Jim."

"I must-"

"No," she stated again. "By the time you got there, the whole thing could already be taken care of. If it isn't, I still don't want you rushing in. You are my only son, Spock. I love Jim, I do, but I cannot lose you. You will have to accept that one of the consulates security team will be enough to protect Jim if needed."

Spock closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. His mother would not release him until he had calmed. She was also right. He could not afford to rush into the situation without all the facts. If it was a serial killer, then there was every possibility that Jim did not match the killers preferred prey. If that was the case then Jim was safe and his rushing in to rescue her could be detrimental. Jim was not the type of human female one would ever consider a "damsel in distress," even when she obviously was in distress. She could become upset with him if she came to the conclusion that he was impulsive, jealous, and over protective. She had, after all, run a farm on her own for most of her life. She was highly intelligent as well. Not the type to foolishly put herself in a position where she could be harmed by such a monster.

"Very well," he finally agreed. "We shall call father now to ask for his assistance."

She looked up at him, brushing aside his bangs with a single, gentle motion. "Don't fret, Spock. We'll all make sure that Jim is all right."

"Thank you, mother."

"Now, why don't you tell me what Jim has been up to since we've come back."

Day 71; 9:30 pm, Iowa City, Iowa

Frank leaned back in his chair, looking out over the bar from where he was partially hidden in the shadowy back corner of the room. There was a hunger burning in his belly again. It was part rage, part hate, and part lust, all rolled into a loosely controlled inferno. Killing that first boy, it had sated everything for a short while and he had been able to forget about that fucking cunt and his crazy bitch of a mother. Unfortunately, killing the boy had only smothered the inferno for a brief time and when all those emotions came back, well, they were even worse than before. There was something freeing in watching the life fade from someone's eyes. And while those he killed weren't his step-son, they looked enough like him to help, to feed the rage and hate, and everything else.

He'd been lucky so far. No one seemed to have figured out he was the one killing all those kids. Part of him thought he should stop before they figured it out and he was put to death, or locked away on a prison planet somewhere, but remembering the feel of their bones breaking, their skin parting and running red…it was just too tempting for him to stop.

He had thought at first that his switching between boys and girls would make it harder for the cops to figure out it was one guy, but the news had latched onto the fact that all of the people he killed were able eyed, with short blond hair. What they didn't know is that not all of them had short hair at first. He didn't care if their hair was short, as long as it was blond. If it was blond then he could imagine that the person he was rending apart was Jim. That disgusting little fag had been a thorn in his side for years. He should have drowned the kid the moment his mom decided to rejoin Starfleet. The older brat was quiet at least. He had learned real fast to keep his trap shut around Frank, and to stay out of sight. Jim, the little fucker, seemed determined to call attention to himself.

Frank took a long drink of his beer, licking the frothy head off his lips. His angry, beady eyes flicked about the room again, looking for his next playmate. There weren't many people in the pub tonight. Mostly they seemed to be regulars, people who knew each other and greeted everyone. People who would be missed.

So he sat back and waited. When the pretty barmaid came by he ordered another whisky and a beer. He tossed back the whisky and pulled the beer close to himself, leaning back deeper into the shadows from where he could watch as new people came in and others left.

Finally, after hours of waiting, and two more beers, she walked in.

Frank smiled into his half empty beer glass. He waited, watching her straighten her white uniform as she settled in at another table nearby, a glass of beer and a plate of fish and chips soon being delivered to her table. She pushed her short blond hair back from her face revealing bright blue eyes, and she glanced around the room nervously. His lips stretched wide around his teeth, the smile more of a barring of teeth like a rabid wolves, than any normal human smile.

Jim never noticed him, she just hunched her shoulders, looked back down at the table, and dug into her food like she was half starved.

The fire inside him stirred to life, jumping and twisting inside as he watched Jim nervously eat like a terrified doe at a watering hole guarded by hungry wolves.

Day 72; 6:15 am, Vulcan Consulate, San Francisco

Sarek stepped out of the hoverer, straightening his robes as the driver closed the passenger door behind him. The man, an Orion, moved to the back and unloaded the single piece of luggage Sarek had brought with him. He offered to bring the luggage up to the door but Sarek waived him off. He might be gray now, but he was hardly an invalid. With a tip of the hat and an inclined head, the Orion left Sarek and returned to his car.

Sarek picked up the handle of his bag and made his way up the steps into the old mansion that had long since been converted into the Vulcan Consulate. The mansion, he long since learned, was originally called the Hellman Mansion and was one of the few neoclassical mansion in San Francisco that survived both World War III and the Eugenics War. In fact the houses on either side of it had been so badly damaged that they had not been worth saving. When first contact had been established and the humans decided to form an alliance with the Vulcans, they had offered the house and the land around it for the consulate. The Vulcans had not understood at first what the humans meant by a consulate, but eventually they came to understand, and while a consulate in a warmer climate such as Death Valley, or anywhere closer to the equator, would have been preferred, San Francisco had been one of the few cities that had come through the wars relatively intact, and still had buildings considered appropriate for a consulate.

The Hellman mansion had undergone changes over the last couple hundred years. It had been expanded in size, a security wall built around it, a garden and two large greenhouses put in. The expansion was carefully crafted by the humans to match the originally architecture while also meeting the needs of the consulate and its staff. The humans had even gone so far as to add what they had called a panic room in the basement, as well as security safe. The four level mansion still had the wrought iron and hardwood front door, a reception hall with a double curved staircase, grand outdoor terraces, main and catering kitchens, 14 fireplaces, wine cellar and iconic views of Alcatraz, Angel Island and beyond. It also boasted two formal dining rooms, a private dinning room, a large conference room, a large two story library filled with paper books, scrolls, and various antiques, several offices, private quarters for all the permanent staff, several quest suites, a master suite complete with au pair suite for Sarek and his family, a sauna and steam room, and its own private medical facility.

His wife was very fond of the consulate and had even mentioned that she would love to have a smaller version of the home, or a Victorian style version of it, as a vacation home. He had thought of acquiring one for her, but it seemed an unnecessary expense given that they had very little "vacation time" between his duties as Ambassador, and her work one continually improving the Universal Translator. As he stepped into the large reception hall he paused to look over the room, taking in the gleaming woodwork, sandstone colored walls, and the decorative carpets in the waiting area. The Vulcan behind the desk on his right, tucked in between the stairs and the outer wall, stood up, lifting her hand in the traditional greeting.

"I come to serve," Sarek stated, his own hand raised.

"Your service honors us," she replied. She reached down to the touch-screen on her desk, quickly tapping at it with practiced ease. "Sorrel and Savel shall be here momentarily, Ambassador Sarek, to assist you with your return."

Sarek inclined his head as T'Rell slowly returned to her seat. Across from him the old fireplace was lit, filling the room with a pleasant smoky scent of burning Calla Wood, a fast growing tree from one of the colony planets. Calla Wood had become quite popular as a paper substitute and a wood for burning as it grew as rapidly as Terran bamboo. It was not hard enough to use as a building material but the colonists had found that it could still be used for many purposes, including the weaving of fabrics. The Vulcan Consulate regularly imported the wood for use in the fireplaces of the consulate. Sarek knew that one of the maids who helped to keep the consulate clean would also be up in his suite of rooms, lighting fires in the fireplaces there. They would not waste the wood on rooms that were not in continuous use, despite the wood being a resource that was not likely to be wiped out as many species of flora had nearly been on Earth in the twentieth century.

"Ambassador Sarek," came the smooth baritone of Sorrel, his chief aid and the person who held control of the Consulate when Sarek was off world.

"Greetings, Sorrel and Savel."

"Greetings," they replied.

Savel moved to his side, lifting the bag placed next to Sarek's feet, and turning on his heel in a single graceful movement. Without a comment he left the room, heading down the hall that would lead to the servants' elevator that would allow him to quickly transport Sarek's luggage to his room, while bypassing the main halls of the consulate. Savel had been his trusted butler, as the humans called the position, for nearly thirty years now and needed no instructions as to what Sarek would require of him. Sarek knew that by the time he had finished speaking with Sorrel in his office, Savel would have unpacked his travel case and ensured his room was ready for him with a meal being prepared.

"Your communication was vague," commented Sorrel.

"Indeed." Sarek moved to the stairs that would lead up to the higher floors where the offices and the sleeping quarters were. "We shall converse on the matter once we have reached my office."

"As you say," agreed Sorrel.

The two of them quietly made their way up the stairs. By the time they reached the small landing at the top of the stairs at the fourth floor, Sorrel's curiosity was piqued, or at least as piqued as any Vulcan would allow it to be. Sarek quickly typed in the passcode, then lay his palm against the scanner next to the door that would give them access to the fourth floor. The entirety of the fourth floor over the original house was set aside specifically for the Ambassador and his family. It held two bedrooms with a shared bath, a master suite with master bath, a private dining room, a large sitting room, and Sarek's office. The door directly at the top of the stairs opened onto a long hallway with only two doors. One would open into Sarek's office, and the second would open into the sitting room at the heart of the Ambassador's private living quarters. The floor below was much the same though there was no door immediately at the top of the stairs. It opened into a small hallway which had the stairs to the fourth floor off the left, and the locked door leading to the staff's private quarters on the right. All of the offices were on the second floor, and only the public areas were on the ground floor. It had served the consulate well enough over the years, allowing the Ambassador a sense of privacy despite the large number of live in staff, and prevented guests from wandering into areas they were not meant to be.

As they entered the private hall on the fourth floor, Sorrel quietly followed behind Sarek to the first door, which entered into Sarek's office. This door, like the door they had just gone through, had multiple levels of security in order to access the door on the other side.

Sarek's office was a mixture of human architecture and Vulcan aesthetics. There was an intricately woven Vulcan carpet covering the wooden floor, artifacts on the shelves on either side of the fireplace, an incense burner on one of the book shelves opposite the fireplace, and a meditation mat hidden in a secret panel under the bookshelf. The woodwork in the room was much like the rest of the house, a rich dark wood that rose halfway up the wall. The wall above the wood had been painted by a human artist who had journeyed to Vulcan as part of the first diplomatic envoy. The mural was an impressive feat, done mostly in natural pigments painted over hand laid plaster. The mural depicted one of the most beautiful landscapes on Vulcan, where the mountainous desert met the sea. The reds and golds of the land meeting the blues and greens of the sea, and dark night sky filled with stars at one end of the room by the bookshelves, slowly shifting into sunrise at the end above the fireplace. Like the other murals throughout the building, it was a masterpiece of skill. Every mural in the building, save the one in the main ballroom, was a landscape of Vulcan. The mural in the main ballroom was the only one of Earth. That mural depicted the first contact between Zefram Cochrane and Vulcan crew of the T'Plana-Hath.

Sarek took a seat in the leather chair behind his desk, Sorrel taking his usual seat across from the Ambassador. He set his PADD in his lap, keying in the code to activate it in case he needed it. The Ambassador leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him, pointer fingers tapping gently against his chin.

"She who is my wife has requested that I look into the matter of the serial murders taking place in Iowa."

Sorrel blinked slowly. "Was there a purpose to her request?"

"She is worried about a human child we encountered when we were last on Earth. The boy lives without his parents or guardian, and his physical appearance matches the physical appearance of the victims."

"Is the child a relation of Lady Grayson's?"

"No," Sarek lowered his hands to his lap. "The child is James Tiberius Kirk."

Sorrel blinked slowly again, fighting down the urge to lift one eyebrow in surprise. "The child born during the destruction of the USS Kelvin."

"Indeed."

"Has Starfleet offered protection to the child?"

"No." Sarek's lips twitched downwards at the corners just the slightest bit, and Sorrel had to force himself to ignore the expression of the Ambassador's feelings. "Young James does not seem to have any regular contact with Starfleet."

"Surely that is not wise," said Sorrel.

"Perhaps not, but I shall respect the lad's wishes. He has proven an adaptable and intelligent child despite his youth. I am of the opinion that he would qualify to join the VSA."

"Indeed," Sorrel said a little surprised.

"His current instructor has contacted a teacher at the VSA to supply James with educational material as he has surpassed what is being taught to his peers."

"Fascinating."

"Quite." Sarek paused again, gathering his thoughts. "I would ask of you to look into the matter of these killings. Advise me if what has been reported by the Federation Press is accurate, and if needed, provide protection for James until the killer is captured by the local authorities."

"Should I attempt to capture the killer?"

"Only if he attempts to harm James. We shall not interfere with the ongoing investigation otherwise."

"Very well." Sorrel made several quick notes on his PADD. "Was there anything else I can be of assistance with?"

"I will need you to confirm with the Betazed consulate the time of the meeting tomorrow. There is still much to sort out in regards to the convention they wish to hold, and our part in it." Sarek took a deep breath. "If you should need to, you may approach Dr. Paul Freedman of Riverside, Iowa. He is the closest thing to a parental guardian that James currently has, and according to Spock, the man and his son have taken to providing protection to James."

Severon had been working in the mail department of the Vulcan Consulate on Earth for 12.5 years and he had completed his job with the utmost of professionalism for the entirety of that time. He would ensure the safety of the members of the Consulate and his people by whatever means were necessary. Lately that need had grown more urgent. A human named James Tiberius Kirk had been sending frequent letters through the consulate for Ambassador Sarek's youngest son, S'chn T'gai Spock. As was his duty, Severon had opened each latter to confirm its contents were not meant to cause any physical or mental trauma to the Ambassador or his family. Until now, the letters had been harmless. The human boy, who Severon had researched through the Consulate's database, was the son a Federation hero. He held high marks from his educational institution and was receiving supplementary educational materials from the VSA. There were only two points in his history that were questionable. One was a police record where James Kirk had driven a twentieth century automobile over a cliff into a rock quarry, and a second which was sealed per Starfleet order, specifically from the office of Admiral Jonathan Archer. Based on the date of the file being sealed and whom had sealed it, Severon had come to the conclusion that whatever the incident was, it was not a criminal matter. As such, the only criminal matter had been the destruction of property. No charges had been filed from the incident as the person who originally tried to lodge a complaint was not the legal owner of the vehicle in question. The matter had been set aside as a failed attempt at suicide.

Current medical data that he had been able to hack into showed that James Kirk was not a threat to others. He showed signs of a dietary disorder which was being treated by his doctor, and that he had been to see a Betazed mind healer for a case of PTSD that started around the same time that the file had been sealed by Starfleet. There were no notations that he was considered a suicide risk, or that he was prone to violent outbursts. As such Severon had concluded that the letters and their content was no threat to S'chn T'gai Spock.

Still, he opened and read each one as was his duty.

As he let the steam rise up around the envelope, Severon contemplated the strange young human writing to the Ambassador's son. James Kirk was far more intelligent than Severon had even thought possible for a human. He was also just as odd and emotional as Severon had come to expect from the species. Despite that, there was something in the words he put on paper that was drawing Severon's attention.

This newest letter was different however. This letter talked about how James Kirk had lied to Spock, leading him to believe he was a she. That there had been an accident with some alien chemicals and James Kirk had ended up female. James Kirk explained that he had not meant to lie to Spock, or to lead him on, that instead James Kirk had felt a strong and immediate connection to Spock. That he truly loved Spock and wanted to be married to him some day if Spock could forgive him for lying about his gender. Severon had read the letter in disbelief. All known information on humans, and there was a lot of it, stated that the species was unable to change gender at will or unconsciously without outside medical intervention.

His disbelief only grew as he continued to read. James Kirk went on to explain that he had not mentioned the situation in earlier letters because he cared about Spock and was worried that Spock would decide to rescind his proposal of marriage. Severon had frozen at that point, knowing that the Ambassador's son was engaged to be bonded to T'Pring of the House of T'Reen. Even if Spock was a half-blood, he had been raised the Vulcan way and was not likely to have offered to marry another after such a short time in their company. Worse yet was the vid chip that had been in the envelope. When Severon had put it in his terminal and opened it he had found several image files along with a large video file. Opening the video file he had been surprised to find the digital recording of a sonogram showing a human fetus barely two months into gestation.

Severon found himself unsure on how to proceed. James Kirk did not appear to be mentally unstable despite the attempted suicide as a pre-teen. His letter showed him to be an emotional but well adjusted and smart example of his species. Yet here was a letter stating that James Kirk had been turned into a human female, that he was still partially female, and that he believed himself to be pregnant with Spock C'ha Sarek's offspring.

Sitting back in his chair Severon contemplated what his proper course of action should be. Did he request a meeting with the Ambassador despite his busy schedule, did he bring the matter up to Sorrel, or did he investigate the matter further on his own authority?

August 2248 - Day 87; 10:45 am, Kirk Family Farm

Scott had been outside working on the house for most of the day. Jim had tried to go out and help him, but at nearly four months pregnant, his already growing belly was making it more and more difficult to do so. His back ached all the time, he had to pee almost every five minutes, and he found himself overwhelmingly exhausted for most of the day. Of course these were only the newest symptoms. He still had weird food cravings and some horrendous morning sickness. It was a straight up pain in his ass, but he wouldn't give up his little baby for anything.

There were rare moments when the aches in his body finally piled up enough for him to briefly wish he hadn't gotten pregnant, but then the guilt would hit him for even thinking it and he would be depressed and miserable for days. Scott, Mr. Freedman, Dr. Phlox, and Dr. O'Neill had been great at these times. Each of them had found some way to lighten Jim's mood out of the dark thoughts. They distracted him with stories of their homeward, their families, crazy clients, sometimes they even distracted him by encouraging the dogs to play and cuddle with him. Jim knew it wasn't just the pregnancy they were trying to distract him from. There were all the issues with the house, the farm, and even the serial killer who was still on the loose. But with all of them pooling their time and skills together they were succeeding in helping him to forget all the bad things happening.

Of course, Jim's letters from Spock helped too. Jim had been glad to hear that Spock had been able to break off his engagement to the Vulcan girl chosen for him, and that all of his schooling on Vulcan had been completed. Jim still hadn't been told if Spock had been accepted into the VSA or Starfleet yet, though how either institution could decline him admission was beyond Jim. Spock was probably the most intelligent person Jim had ever known. He sent Jim all kinds of interesting articles about new discoveries made by all kinds of scientists, even ones working in fields Jim had never cared for. But with all of Spock's notations added in digitally to the files, they suddenly became some of the most interesting things he'd ever read. Jim, of course, also sent articles on things he found interesting or of note to Spock. Their last few letters had all been full of academic, social, and cultural discussions on the various articles and news stories of the time.

Jim's mind felt alive like it hadn't in years!

Spock's letters weren't the only thing to be happy about though. Jim had also found himself very happy with the elderly Denobulan as a person, and budding friend as well. Dr. Phlox was surprisingly kind, and a fount of strange information and stories that never ceased to amuse Jim. Plus, Jim had found him easy to talk to. Enough so that he brought up his concerns about how easy it had been to recognize himself as a "she" and then switch back to thinking of himself as a "he." There was also the occasional moments where he still caught himself thinking about himself in terms of being female, and Dr. Phlox had been able to talk him out of any emotional panic it caused him. Their conversations spanned days and covered every concern Jim didn't realize he had.

Scott had also been talking with the doctor when he was in town to check on Jim, and Jim was of the opinion that Scott was having issues with the genderswap as well…or maybe he was disturbed about Jim being pregnant? Jim wasn't certain and he was secretly afraid that it was the latter. Of course, Jim sometimes thought that maybe Scott was simply enjoying the man's knowledge and experience as well, getting his feedback on the various colleges and programs offered throughout the Federation.

Jim didn't know what to think. So in true Jim fashion he had run full tilt into the problem only to be told that he was worrying about nothing. That was irritating, but at least now Scott talked to him about his own time as a girl. It was bringing them closer together as well and Jim found himself spending a lot of time with Scott. Their friendship was growing deeper by the day and Jim was finding himself so relaxed and happy it was amazing. Even when he was depressed he was still happier than he had been since Spock's brief visit.

With so much time on his hands now that he had been told he couldn't stay working on his feet at the diner as he was, Dr. Phlox had suggested Jim begin his college courses online so that once when he was ready he could get a good job to help with the income to fix the house and raise his child. Jim had been thinking about it as well. There were several good colleges that had some reputable programs that could be either completed or partially completed online. And at least five of those were degrees and classes that could be transferred over to Starfleet classes. He was trying to narrow down the one or two degrees he wanted but there were so many things that sparked his interest. Maybe it would be a good idea to try a dual major? Or maybe a minor in one of the choices?

He knew he wanted to at least go with a computer science or a computer programming course. Not that it would teach him more than what he already knew, but maybe he could test out of most of the classes and just do the advanced level course and get a major in it in one year rather than four or more. A minor in xenolinguistics could work, that would at least allow him to learn Vulcan. Of course if he did that he should try to learn a couple other languages as well. Maybe Orion, Andorian, and Klingon. He could even get Dr. Phlox to teach him Denobulan. It would be kind of nice to be able to talk with Spock and Dr. Phlox in their own languages. It would probably be better to focus only on two or three languages for now if he was going to try and get a degree in one or more other fields at the same time.

"Good morning, Jim. How are your symptoms today?"

Jim turned to look away from the front yard and over to the elderly Denobulan standing beside the porch swing. He had arrived back in Riverside the day before after having gone to a medical conference on the Space Station orbiting Earth. He didn't look tired at all and Jim often wondered if the man even slept. It always seemed like he was awake no matter what time of day or night Jim saw him. It was a little weird, but then as far as Jim knew Denobulans didn't need as much rest as a Human.

"I'm bored outta my mind, Doc. Scott won't let me do anything but sit here and sip lemonade."

Dr. Phlox gave Jim a wide smile, his eyes twinkling in that way that let Jim know the good doctor knew something that Jim didn't. "Scott is a fine young man. He merely worries about you and the child you carry."

"Yeah, whatever." Jim crossed his arms over his tender chest and pouted. "I'm still bored though."

Dr. Phlox moved to take the empty spot next to Jim on the porch swing. "Have you thought further on your studies?"

Jim sighed. "I haven't decided yet. There are a couple programs I am looking at and I'm not sure which one to do." Jim leaned his head back against the back of the swing and closed his eyes. "The best programs are all designed to work into the Starfleet courses and honestly I don't know how I could do a career in Starfleet with a child. It would be nice but I'd get stuck planet bound rather than be placed on a starship. Unless of course I decided to leave my kid behind. Which I won't. Not ever."

For a long moment the two simply sat quietly on the swing, watching Scott moving up and down the ladder as he went about fixing the bad spot on the siding and on the roof. The day was warm and the breeze was nearly non-existent, but the wide blue line of the sky touching the long golden line of the earth was still a peaceful sight.

"Have you spoken with Paul? He may be able to offer you a solution to your worries that you had not yet considered."

"I can't expect him to watch my child for me, Doc. He's already doing more than he should for me just by helping to pay for food and repairs now that I'm not working at the diner anymore."

"Should that not be something up to Paul? If it makes him happy to help you, is it really a chore?" Dr. Phlox looked back at Jim. "There are many people here who care deeply for you, Jim, and would like to help you in any way that you will allow them to."

Jim didn't really want to go down this road today. It was a hard thing to believe, that someone would care for him that way when even his own family didn't. He was even starting to second guess Spock on occasion. He had written to the Vulcan several times now, sending the letters through the Vulcan consulate in San Francisco as Sarek had told him to, asking Spock to come back for a visit, but Spock never replied. Sure he sent letters, full of things that made Jim happy. but none of them told Jim if he was going to come back to Earth anytime soon, or what he thought about the baby. Jim was starting to fear that maybe Spock hadn't really loved him as much as he thought and that now that he was away from Jim he was realizing what a mistake he had made. Or that suddenly finding out Jim was pregnant was scaring the Vulcan off. They were both so young and Spock had a promising future ahead of him, so finding out he had a 'ball and chain' waiting in Iowa had to put a damper on things. Jim couldn't really blame or hate the Vulcan if Jim's pregnancy scared him off. Jim knew if a girl had come to him and said that she was pregnant with his child he would freak the fuck out.

"Would you teach me Denobulan, Doc?"

"I would be glad to, Jim. We can start now if it would please you."

Jim nodded and looked toward the side yard where Kalilia and Amin were playing tug with a scrap of rope. The female saluki was starting to round out as Jim was from her currently growing litter. She had less than a month until she should be ready to give birth. There had already been requests from other breeders and show dog owners forwarded from the Freeman's house to Jim's since they were staying with him. There were in fact more people asking for the puppies than there were going to be puppies. Mr. Freedman said there were likely four or five puppies. Jim was actually kind of excited to see them. He rather liked dogs and having some puppies running around the house would be nice. There was a feral barn cat that lived on the property but Jim seldom saw the Tom as it did its very best to only be out and about when Jim wasn't. Not exactly the type of animal you could sit around and pet, not if you wanted to keep your hand anyway.

"We shall start with the basic rules of sentence structure and then move onto the alphabet…"

1:20 pm, Kirk Family Farm

It was fairly rare anymore that a postman with actual paper mail would come by. In fact the first time Jim had actually had any paper mail of his own and he had been so excited at the time. It had been a punishment of Frank's for driving the car off the cliff to send him to Tarsus IV but when Jim had held that thick paper envelope in his hands it had been like the universe was finally opening up for him. For the longest time after that any paper mail just left a sour bile in his mouth. He hadn't know what the mail would be for or for whom it was being sent but Jim had known it would lead to nothing but grief and pain. Now though, now he got paper mail fairly regularly, almost twice a month in fact. All of it in the same large envelope with the crest of the Vulcan Consulate clearly on it. It was a bit early for a new letter form Spock, but the hope still surged up in Jim that Spock was finally writing to tell him if he would be coming back to Earth.

The old white mail car pulled up next to Mr. Freedman's truck and a young man of maybe 23 or 24 years stepped out. His brown hair was cut short and combed back, his white dress shirt and gray slacks were neatly pressed, and his hazel eyes were sharp as they locked on Jim where he was sitting on the swing. He approached slowly, his gaze sliding over to Kalilia who was laying with her head on Jim's lap. The dog was watching the mailman with the an intense look, her lips pulling back to show sharp white teeth as the man stepped onto the porch next to Jim. Her protective instincts had been on high the last few weeks and strangers were making her more and more nervous, especially if Jim was there.

"I have a letter for Scott Freedman. You him?"

"No. He went into town 'bout an hour ago."

The mailman looked down at the legal-sized yellow envelope and his PADD. "Well, I'll need you to sign this for him then."

"Fine." Jim reached out for the PADD and quickly jotted down his signature.

The mailman dropped the envelope in Jim's hands, shot another glance at Kalilia, and then nearly sprinted back to his mail car. Jim watched him leave before glancing back down at the envelope. His hands clenched the edges, crinkling the thick paper.

"What do you have there?"

Jim couldn't look away from the envelope. The address in the upper corner stood out in bold blue against the yellow of the envelope.

"Jim?" Dr. Phlox carefully reached out and set one hand on Jim's shoulder before leaning down to look at the envelope. "Ah. So it finally arrived."

Jim's head snapped up to look into the Denobulan's face. A soft smile was resting on the doctor's face, in place of his usually over large smile. "You knew?"

"Scott asked me if I would give him a recommendation. Not that he had need of it. He is an intelligent boy and Starfleet would do quite well by taking him."

"You. Knew."

"Jim," Dr. Phlox turned Jim to face towards him. "Scott is an intelligent young man and there is unfortunately not much that he can do here in Riverside that will keep him active and happy. Starfleet will be able to offer him a multitude of opportunities in any field that he could wish to pursue."

Jim swallowed thickly and looked back down at the envelope. "He'll leave too."

"I understand that it will be quite a change to have him leave after he has spent so much time with you, but you must understand that he is not leaving you. He is simply moving onto his future. When you are ready you will be able to move forward to join him should you choose to." Dr. Phlox gave Jim a warm smile. "I am sure that he would be quite pleased were you to join him in space one day."

"I can't. How could I go into space with my baby? I can't give the little guy up and I can't leave him behind."

"Starfleet has provision for families. I am sure that you could request a posting where your child would be allowed to go with you. Perhaps even onto one of the larger starships like the one being built near here. It is being designed to accommodate a small number of crew with families."

"Maybe, But I still don't see how it could work." Jim scowled. He hadn't heard that Starfleet was changing its policy about kids on starships.

"Perhaps it would be best to give it time. First you need to decide on your course of study. Starfleet is still a way off for you in any case."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Well, if that is settled perhaps we should head inside. Dr. O'Neill will be here shortly so that we may proceed with your next check-up. If you would like we should be able to determine the child's gender today."

"We can?"

"Yes, you are far enough along now that we should get a fairly accurate view of the baby for a visual comparison of gender, but we shall also be able to scan for a DNA profile for the child now as well."

Jim swallowed, his throat suddenly thick. He would be able to see his baby, to see an image of the life that was growing inside him, the physical reminder of the first person who ever showed the slightest affection to Jim. That was awesome!

Jim gave the doctor a wide smile. "I think I'd like that."

Dr. Phlox patted Jim on the shoulder and led him back inside. "Good, good. You should go change into the little gown and then come back down here that way you'll be ready to start once she arrives."

Jim nodded and carefully lifted the dogs head off his lap so that he could stand. She whined at being moved, but let him get up, one hand going to rest against his belly as he swayed slightly. Jim scowled again as Dr. Phlox gripped his elbow to steady him and led him inside the house. The cool air inside felt good against his skin, and Jim relaxed in his grip.

"Honey, I'm home," called a voice from the driveway.

Jim and Dr. Phlox turned away from the stairwell to look at the open front door where Scott stood carefully balancing several bags of groceries as he tried to kick the door shut. Scott shot Jim a wide smile, filled to near overflowing with warmth and affection.

"You've got mail," Jim held up the envelope still clutched tightly in his hand.

Scott caught sight of the Starfleet embalm on the front and his smile drooped. "I meant to tell you, Jim."

Jim knew his smile was weak, faltering, strained as it hadn't been since Tarsus IV. "It's no biggie. I'm happy for you."

"Jim-"

"I need to change. Dr. O'Neill will be here soon for my latest appointment." Jim handed Dr. Phlox the letter then turned and quickly headed up the stairs. He wasn't running away. No. It was just a tactical retreat.

"Shit." Scott slumped, nearly dropping the bags full of groceries. "I didn't mean to hurt him."

"He knows that, my boy." Dr. Phlox carefully took some of the bags from Scott's hands and led him back into the kitchen. "Give him time and you shall see that he is truly quite proud of you."

"If you say so." Scott gave the Denobulan a skeptical look. "But Jim can hold a grudge for a long time when he wants and I don't want to leave while he's mad at me. Especially not when he needs all the support he can get."

Dr. Phlox set the bags in his hands down upon the counter and began to carefully unpack them. "He is more upset than he would have you believe. But it is not you he is angry with but himself. He wants to go with you, to reach out and be a part of the stars again, but for now he is trapped here upon the Earth. I think that once he begins working towards a degree that he shall find his mind focused on something other than his unusual and unexpected pregnancy and that his closet friend is leaving him behind."

Scott dropped into the chair at the kitchen table, resting his face in the palms of his hands. He hated this. He hated that Jim was being denied a future that Scott knew Jim would excel at because of some freaky accident and a momentary lapse in judgment. He wanted Jim to be happy.

"He shall come around, Scott." Dr. Phlox reached back into the bag and turned to Scott and smiled. "Apple?"