"Will you tell me more of your mother?" Spock requested of Solion.

"She was an amazing woman. Very headstrong, which made her an ideal bondmate for my father. However, she had a softer side which was very comforting to those around her. Her compassion was boundless, and even though she had not taught for a great deal of time, she did not mind giving detailed explanations to a curious half-Vulcan child." Solion closed his eyes. "She smelled of jasmine. I did not recognize the scent until I was an adult on Earth, when I experienced it again."

Spock closed his eyes and tried to recall, and was dismayed to realize he could not. "I remember her less every day, no matter how hard I try to recall. I am forgetting her voice, and I fear I will forget her face. I have an eidetic memory in every other regard. Why can I not remember my mother?"

Solion's heart ached for the young man. "When my bondmate passed unexpectedly, I shared memories with those close to us, and found in sharing I could remember details that I did not recall alone."

Spock nodded. "I will use your method. It is growing late, and I do not wish to leave Jim alone for long. He may need my assistance."

"A word of advice?" Solion pushed. Spock stopped and nodded. "If he is not snoring, he is not asleep. Do not be fooled, no matter how long he stays still."

"I am forewarned. Thank you, Ambassador. Peace and long life."

"Live long and prosper, Spock."

Spock ended the call and got up, going back through the bathroom quietly to check on Jim. He did not hear snoring, though as predicted, Jim was very still. He stood in the doorway for five minutes before clearing his throat.

"I am aware you are not asleep."

There was no movement, and then a huge sigh. "What tipped you off?"

"From what I have heard through your bathroom door, you snore." Spock folded his hands in front of himself.

"Curses," Jim replied, sitting up. "I have to pee so bad and I'm too chickenshit to do it."

"You resemble the fecal matter of poultry because you do not wish to endure pain? I do not agree. Every sentient being avoids pain when possible." Spock walked over and helped Jim stand. "My offer stands. You may squeeze my forearm when you are in pain and it will not injure me."

They walked into the bathroom and Jim shivered. "Here we go," he sighed as Spock took his place. When it was over, Jim sank down on the toilet and put his head between his knees. Spock became alarmed.

"Jim, stand up. Let me see your urine."

"Gross, dude," Jim chuckled, but stood. Spock looked and shook his head.

"You are not passing as much blood anymore. I believe your injury is healing slowly." The toilet flushed and Spock waited for him to get ready and led him back out. "Do you require pain medication?"

"I hate pain medicine. It makes me loopy and I know you won't believe me but I despise losing control."

Spock inclined his head. "I will admit I am surprised. You held the campus record for several drinking games during your time there. Most still have not been broken to this day. Why would you engage in such behavior if you did not somehow enjoy the results?"

"How in the hell do you know that?" Jim demanded.

"How do I know what? That your records have not been beaten?"

"All of it!" Jim sat on the bed and leaned back on his regenerated arm, causing Spock to wince inwardly.

Spock sat on the bed as well. "Before I accepted the position as First Officer, I researched you thoroughly. It is amazing what people will say in admiration. As for how I know your records have not been beaten, I am still appraised of the 'gossip' on the campus. I ask questions."

"Well you're not the only busybody on this ship. Uhura, or to use your name, Nyota, wasn't even an ensign when you two started hanging out as more than just teacher and student. There was an informal pool going as to whether you were bumping uglies. I had down 200 credits that you were."

Spock inhaled slowly and closed his eyes. "Captain, the vulgarity of your implications aside, it is none of your business."

Jim peered over at his friend. "I'm sorry, I get pissy when I'm in pain. I crossed the line, and I'm sorry."

"If you are in pain, why do you not take the medication?"

Jim shrugged. "I'm having more fun talking to you, and I don't want to pass out for the rest of the night. I want to remember this, because it probably won't happen again."

"If I do my job properly, it will not occur again." Spock looked at his knees. "Jim, I wish to share a set of memories with you. Will you please be serious?"

"Of course, Spock. What's up?"

"I wish to show you in a mind meld," Spock explained.

Jim paled. "Uh, I hear those are majorly intense." He remembered the mind meld old Spock had done to him on Delta Vega. He'd never been so shaken before or since.

"They can be. I will be as gentle as I can." Spock turned to face him and raised a hand. When Jim didn't shy away, he connected his fingers and the world dissolved.

At first, Jim didn't know what to do. He was in darkness, with no body to move. Then a bright flash occurred and Jim saw a beautiful woman standing in front of a kitchen counter. She turned around and held out a plate with a sandwich on it. The crust was cut off and it was cut in triangles. She smiled down. "Here, Spock, will you eat this for me?"

"That is my mother," Spock's voice told Jim.

"She's very pretty," Jim responded, not knowing if Spock could hear him or not.

The memory faded, and Jim saw a large boy twisting someone's arm. For a Vulcan, he was pretty open emotionally. He had an evil grin on his face.

"Cease, Sybok. You will not achieve your goal." Young Spock's voice echoed.

"Perhaps not this way. Perhaps another way." Sybok drew back his fist and punched hard. There was darkness, and when the light returned Spock's mother was kneeling down, one hand covered in green blood. She turned angrily.

"Sybok, your brother may be half-Vulcan, but he's ten times the Vulcan you are. Go to your room. I'll have words with your father later." She wiped her hand on her dress and reached out again. "Spock, let me see sweetie. You're being so brave. I would be crying if someone hit my nose."

"My mother never chided me for showing emotion, nor was she disappointed when I did not. She seemed to love me no matter what I did."

"That's what mothers do," Jim explained. "I think it's in their DNA, no matter what species they are."

The picture became fuzzy, and there was suddenly a picture of Spock's mother standing with his father. Spock appeared to be watching from behind a chair.

"I cherish thee, Amanda," Sarek breathed.

"I love you more," she replied, running a hand across his chest. "Are you disappointed?"

Sarek stopped and moved her back so he could look her in the eyes. "Amanda, you gave me our son, at great risk to yourself. I would have welcomed another child, but I am not overly emotional that it will not be."

"I remember that," Spock's voice broke in. "I believe my mother miscarried. I was seven years old. I had not accessed this memory since."

Jim wanted to squirm. Finally he spoke up. "Spock, this is deathly personal. Is there some reason you're showing me this?"

"Unless I bring it forth in a meld, I cannot remember my mother. I cannot recall her alone." Spock's voice sounded broken.

Jim sighed. "At least you have memories of her," he told his friend.

"You do not have memories of your father," Spock realized. "How incredibly insensitive of me. Forgive me, Jim." The meld broke apart.