Chapter 11: Clearing The Air

"Well, I'm glad that we could make amends, even if it is illogical." Kirk smiled warmly as he clapped his hands together in positive emphasis, their mission of atonement a success. "Bones here told me he was actually quite worried on your behalf." Kirk winked at McCoy, the glimmer in his eye proffering both truth and amusement.

"Oh, don't put words in my mouth. I've got enough of my own colorful verses without you mixing in your sentiment." McCoy squinted at Kirk in jest before continuing. "I really meant what I said though, Spock."

"Your sentiment is acknowledged. Let us not speak any more of it. The event is of no consequence." Spock remained as if he were made of granite, but was noticeably more amiable in his reply to McCoy.

"All right, you've got a deal." Still feeling chastised, McCoy smiled wanly but his blue eyes sparkled as he let out a sigh of relief. As much as he enjoyed ribbing Spock, the Doctor felt remorseful when his pranks went awry and he was glad to be rid of the guilty feelings he had harbored for most of the evening. He looked to Kirk to make the next move, hoping they could both politely extricate themselves from Spock's quarters at last and call it a night. As if on que, Kirk interjected.

"Well, that's really all we came to say, so unless there is any other business I suppose we will just say our goodnights." Kirk motioned back towards the door, with McCoy eagerly taking a step ahead of him.

Bowing slightly, Spock walked with them the few paces as they made their way to exit. As McCoy stepped out into the coolness of the corridor, Kirk hung back and turned to look at Spock.

And so, we begin again, mused Spock silently. The odds were against him that Kirk would leave well enough alone. In fact, the odds were 93.7 percent in favor that Kirk would linger after McCoy had excused himself.

"I'll catch up in a minute, Doctor. You go on ahead." Kirk playfully waved his hand out towards the empty corridor, deftly motioning for him to be on his way.

Predicatable as ever, Jim.

McCoy nodded before saying goodnight to Spock and began the short walk towards his own quarters. He knew Kirk had said that last bit only as distraction and didn't expect to see him again until morning. He could tell something unseen was nagging at both of his friends, and figured the best way to get the truth out was to let Kirk work his charm alone without the aid of his irascible wit.

The door swooshed shut. Kirk stood pensively at the threshold, arms crossed, assessing with his gaze directed at Spock. The Vulcan looked vaguely amused and Kirk wondered if he was just imagining it.

"Would you care to sit, Admiral?" Spock motioned towards an empty chair he usually reserved for just such visits. It was clear he did so this time out of politeness and not because he desired company.

Not, Jim. 'Admiral'. Kirk could tell Spock was attempting to keep the situation impersonal and all business but he wasn't giving up so easily nor was he going to let the formality throw him off his game.

There's something he's keeping to himself, but what?

Thanking him and taking the offered seat, Kirk settled himself and waited for his friend to do the same. Spock sat across from him rigidly; his body language may have been perfectly composed and 'All-Vulcan' to anyone who didn't know him, but Kirk could see all the signs that something had deeply disturbed him. Rigid whitened knuckles were interlaced tightly in his clutched hands which spoke volumes of the inner turmoil that simmered beneath the otherwise stoic presence.

Another memory from long ago flashed in Kirk's mind. It seemed to be from a time and place now so far and distant. It had been during the first five-year mission and involved their disastrous encounter on Platonius. McCoy had been lured to the planet and held captive before being forced to watch his friends suffer as Parmen used telekinesis to bend Kirk and Spock with his sick, twisted power. He had thrown them around like marionettes to dance and sing. Worst of all was how he violated Spock's mind and forced him to sing, laugh and even cry for the tyrant's own sadistic pleasure. Kirk winced at the memory of Spock's boot planted firmly on his face, nearly crushing his nose and mouth. It would have been easy for the stronger Vulcan to pulverize his face and Spock had strained with every ounce of his will to keep his friend from being harmed. (Little did Kirk know that Spock had later agonized over the incident in private, devastated at the thought that once again he was nearly the instrument of Kirk's folly.)

When Parmen finally tired of his games and relented, Kirk had watched powerlessly as Spock waged a silent internal battle to regain his control after the abuse of being savagely divested of his free will. To a telepathic species, Parmen's actions had been violent in the extreme, almost a kind of mental rape. Motionless, Spock had stood staring blankly ahead while crushing a clay vessel, unresponsive outwardly to any feeling as he allowed the shards to embed deeply into his flesh. As dark myrtle blood trickled down his palm and wrist, it flowed through the shattered remnants of the vase and pooled onto the garishly tiled stone floors. For what seemed like an eternity, Spock stood in a trance as his palpable anger slowly dissipated and his control took hold once again. He had fought in silence to regain himself, desperate to recapture the calm logic that would eventually free them all. It was not a recollection any of the crew who had been forced to entertain the Platonians chose to revisit often.

Kirk sighed heavily before he spoke, his confidence weakening as he betrayed his own apprehension.

"I don't want to put you on the spot, but it seems like there is something underlying our usual witty repartee. I know McCoy can be damned irritating at times, but it usually takes a lot more than one of his barbs to hook you."

Kirk leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs as he settled in to a more comfortable posture. "I don't mean to harp at you like McCoy, but are you unwell? What's wrong?" His eyes were bright and comforting with genuine concern.

Spock's dark expression flashed and narrowed ever so slightly as his jaw noticeably clenched. He stared at Kirk for a few intense seconds before letting out the smallest of audible sighs and relaxing his constricted fingers. It was plain as day that he didn't want to discuss what was on his mind, but he knew that Kirk had asked beyond idle curiosity and appeared honestly worried. He also acknowledged that his human friend was as stubborn as himself and one way or another, he would get the information he sought. But, if he could trust anyone it was most decidedly Jim Kirk.

Lowering his eyes, Spock took his time before speaking.

"It appears that I will be unable to dissuade you from concerning yourself with my wellbeing. I assure you, I myself am quite well and in good health. Suffice it to say, my call to ShiKahr has left me admittedly puzzled and… unsettled."

He knew if he didn't keep pushing the issue now, he'd never get the whole truth so Kirk plowed forward, undaunted.

"I know it hasn't been easy adjusting to leaving Saavik behind, but I'm sure your parents are keeping her busy and well-guarded." Kirk absently undid his uniform jacket flap, toying momentarily with the clasp. It was still too damn hot in Spock's quarters to consider being relaxed and he could feel a bead of sweat form and dribble down the back of his neck.

It was still relatively new information to him that Spock had assumed guardianship of the mysterious young girl known as Saavik. Not long after the V'Ger incident and Enterprise's return to regular duty, his friend had been suddenly recalled to Vulcan and subsequently took another year off from Starfleet to care for the child. Few specifics had trickled back to Enterprise, although Spock kept in touch sporadically and assured his Captain that he would return as soon as he deemed it possible. Uhura had been in contact the most with Spock, relaying educational data and instructional tapes to supplement the girl's tutelage. The only thing for certain was that Spock and his ward were located on Dantria IV, an isolated but peaceful colony world about 2 ½ parsecs from Vulcan. Kirk still didn't have all the details of her origin or Spock's involvement in her adoption; he wasn't even sure if they were in some way related by blood. All he knew was that she was an orphan and for all his snooping and string-pulling, the files on Saavik were private and permanently sealed by the Vulcan government. At present, he was happy to finally have his best friend back on board permanently and although he was undeniably curious, he'd let Spock tell him her story in good time if he chose to. For now, the fact that she existed was all that was relevant and Kirk figured it didn't matter anyways. If Spock was concerned with her, then he was too and her provenance or pedigree was of little importance.

"I hope nothing has happened to her; she is ok, isn't she?" Kirk also pondered how tough it could be to have Sarek as a permanent guardian. Despite his respect for Vulcan's esteemed Ambassador-at-Large, he pitied anyone who had to endure his undivided attention. Kirk was aware that Spock had spent most of his adult life on the run so to speak, so he imagined that poor kid Saavik would have to be tough as nails to succeed on Vulcan in the same circumstances. No wonder Spock was stressed out.

"She is well. Her studies are progressing satisfactorily and her outward appearance shows rapid growth. Socially, she also appears to be adjusting quickly to her new settings as well as into Vulcan society. My mother and father have been diligent in her instruction, perhaps more so in some areas than I would have deemed appropriate considering how little time has elapsed since her arrival."

Spock paused, and his expression changed again to one of slight frustration. "My concern is not for her current physical state of being, but for her future."

Kirk's brow furrowed slightly in confusion. "You'll have to break things down for me because I don't quite understand. You say she is well but it seems you perceive some sort of imminent threat?"

Stuck in the middle. Poor kid.

Rising from his seat, Spock took a step forward and turned away to face the opposite wall. He put his hands behind his back, and a knuckle cracked as he flexed his fingers in place. Composing himself again, he replied somewhat hesitantly.

"I would prefer to not speak of this Jim, but I know that you will not take no as an answer."

"You know I'm not very good at leaving things as unknowns, but if it's a matter of family privacy, I won't push the issue. If you want to talk about it, though… my door is always open, so to speak."

Turning to face Kirk, Spock let his shoulders fall in resignation, his tension giving way slightly.

"As you are human, typically I would not ever discuss this issue with you. But, it is an undeniable truth that you have been a party to the outcome of such things. It is a tradition so outside the realm of your cultural understanding as much as it is a practice deeply enmeshed in mine. It is also a thing that I have known would be a complication as soon as I decided to relinquish full guardianship. I had thought it would not come to pass so quickly, at least not in my absence."

Kirk shifted uncomfortably in his chair, but remained seated. He carefully dissected what Spock had just cryptically told him, contemplating the deeper meaning behind each word. Over the years, he had learned his share of Vulcan state secrets. There was only one thing in particular which made sense, one tradition that he knew of that could cause his friend to be possessed with this much anxiety.

"Is she… married?" Suddenly the room felt even more unbearably warm than it had before and Kirk felt like he'd jumped from the bucket into the frying pan. It took effort for him to choke out the last word. Admittedly even he found it challenging to wrap his brain around the complexities and mysteries of Vulcan bonding practices. It was a topic that was rarely discussed, only trumped by pon farr and considered a forbidden subject especially by those outside of one's clan. The practice of marrying children was also completely against the grain in terms of his human-centric norms. Kirk had thought at one time that he had seen it all in his galactic travels but in many ways the bombshell that his friend had dropped on him years ago in regard to T'Pring had stunned him most of all. He still didn't fully understand it and part of him wasn't sure he wanted to.

Spock raised a brow, conceding to Kirk's correct evaluation. He frowned faintly before responding.

"Married, no. But bonded, most likely. I have not been granted enough source data to know the exact truth, but based on my empirical study of her during our conversation I would find it highly probable that she has or will very soon be… bonded."

"It seems like a decision too important to not have been told about it. How can you be certain based on a fifteen minute chat?" Kirk squirmed in his chair, feeling even more out of his element. "Did she say anything about it?"

Perplexed, he got up from his seat so he could stand eye to eye with Spock.

Allowing a quiet but audible sigh to escape, he paused again before answering. "There were certain tacit clues that could not be easily dismissed. As an adult, I am fully aware of the nuances of bonding in my culture even if Saavik is not. I could not readily ignore any of the outward displays as happenstance." His frown creased downward a fraction, his displeasure noticeable in the last word. "My conclusions are entirely logical, although a clear answer has not been rendered in words."

"Can you be more specific? I'm admittedly at a loss to comprehend." Kirk thought momentarily of his earlier conversation with McCoy about parenthood and its associated woes.

Well, damn if the good Doctor wasn't right about one thing today. I'm certainly stumped.

At this point, Spock was noticeably more uneasy. He remained immobile and glued to his position, but his eyes were a dead giveaway to his inner confliction. His voice was no longer steady as he explained his reasoning. "Her studies in etiquette and her style of dress were explainable. She has been in the care of my mother and it seems natural that she would go to great lengths to foster proper conventions with haste. Vulcans consider it of great importance to show evidence of proper grooming. Our society has many behavioral expectations." He paused and his brow furrowed deeper.

"But, her sudden extreme changes in composure and most interestingly her hair, were by far the most telling clues of all."

"Seriously, her hair?" Kirk was a bit flabbergasted and still dreadfully confused.

"Yes. Seriously."

Staring incredulously and wondering at the turn of events that transpired to get him caught in such an unexpected and awkward conversation, Kirk stood waiting for elaboration but fearing it at the same time. Spock was being uncharacteristically straightforward which was odd in itself, Kirk was still completely lost in the details. He knew Spock had the ability to extrapolate data more efficiently and concisely than probably anyone in the Federation, but… hair was the big clue? Part of him almost didn't want to know why. He'd be willing to let one mystery slide past him, let the unknown remain as it were.

This all just seems much too…. He chastised himself on the last word as he thought it. Alien.

Notes:

1. Kirk's memory of the Platonians is a reference to TOS: Plato's Stepchildren.