Spock let himself into the darkened apartment. He had called to let Gillian know he and Jim had finished negotiations early and he was coming home and hoped she was still waiting up for him. He left the lights off, the moonlight streaming through the windows illuminated the room sufficiently for him to make his way to the lounge room, picking up the baby rugs scattered over the floor and folding them into a neat pile. Gillian's blonde hair trailed over the end of the arm of the couch, her closed eyes concealed by the pillow she snuggled. Starved of her presence, he stood watching her, noting the circles under her eyes. When Spock was home he gave the boys their night time feeding, with him gone, it fell on her. They were tolerant of Spock's deficiencies as a parent and drank it with minimal grumbling but Gillian was guaranteed a baby temper tantrum when she tried to feed them formula instead of breast milk. Two baby temper tantrums.
"Spock," she murmured as he slid his hands under her to carry her to bed. She stirred and pushed herself to a sitting position, pressing her soft lips against his. He embraced her and she pressed her face to his chest. "Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep. The boys have been grumpy." James, in particular, had the sleeping patterns of a Vulcan newborn.
"It was not my intention to inconvenience you," he replied. She gave him a shy smile, "I am glad you are home, I've missed you. It will be good to have an adult to talk to again." He had left his mother and Sarek on Qo'noS to continue negotiations there and if Gillian still worked on the 'Yves-Jacques Cousteau' it would have been her week on. . She glanced at the clock, which announced the hour as 2108, and frowned.
"Have you eaten? We could go out." she asked. They had time to go to a restaurant and could beam back if one of the boys triggered the baby monitor.
"I have," said Spock who had been hoping for a more intimate welcome home. Gillian smiled and offered "I'm a little tired, but we could watch that documentary you queued, I haven't had the chance to see it. Or you could tell me how the negotiations went." She snuggled in beside him on the couch and he flicked the documentary on. Gillian tried to watch but soon relaxed into his shoulder, asleep.
He lowered the volume and watched the show until savage hunger pangs alerted him to the imminent awakening of Serek. He lowered Gillian to the couch and snatched a bottle of formula from the stasis container in the nursery. Slipping it into his left hand, he scooped the baby's head with his elbow, lifting him out of the pod and angled the bottle into the baby's mouth. The sound garbled as Spock squeezed the bottle, forcing formula into Serek's mouth. He protested a little, the sugar content was lower than human breast milk, but settled into suckling. He repeated the action with his right hand before more than a disgruntled grizzle emerged from James. Feeding, burping and changing both babies without letting them become distressed enough to wake Gillian required some coordination. He could influence the t'hy'la bonds because he was the central person in the linkage. Even the bond between Gillian and the humpbacks relied on his presence. The bond between baby James and Gillian was independent of him and he had less influence over it. Gillian had asked T'Pau to assist her in ensuring that it was correct and stable.
Serek went to sleep the instant his physical needs were attended to. James wanted to play but Spock was trying to train him to sleep through the night. He ran his fingers over the tiny spine, making gentle neuropressure adjustments. He initiated a small meld with the baby and adjusted the bio controls to encourage sleep. That done, he rested the sleepy but not sleeping baby over his shoulder and patted him until his golden curls bounced. Spock held him close, rocking gently to lull the baby to sleep.
Awareness of her presence drew Spock's attention to the doorway. Gillian was watching him with a gentle smile on her face. "It appears I was in error when I opposed your decision" said Spock. Gillian lifted her eyebrow at his remark. She wiped the baby's face then lifted him and placed him in the pod beside his sleeping brother. He squawked and fought to keep his eyes open but the lids proved too heavy. Spock tucked the sheet at the boys feet, double checking to make sure he settled them over the baby monitors. They went off several times a night so he had it set to a pitch he could hear but Gillian could not. Gillian waited until he slid the covers shut before she raised the lights and padded barefoot across the floor.
"Ya think?" she said, they both sank down onto the bed, staring at the hazy forms of their offspring.
"Yes," he said, although he was aware of the rhetorical nature of her question. "You are an excellent geneticist and did an admirable job. You were correct when you stated my decision to forgo another pregnancy was based on emotion." He was ashamed of his lack of emotional control and had pressured himself to do better. Spock had never apologised to her before. Apologising was illogical.
"I'm sorry too," she said, slipping her arm through the crook of his elbow. "I was a total bitch during our argument. And keeping the bond closed for all those months when you were away was mean. I told myself it was to keep you from getting upset or knowing what I was doing but part of me wanted to hurt you as much as you hurt me." She snuggled into his side and took a deep breath as though breathing in the scent of him. "I missed you. So much."
"And I you," he said, noting her surprised look. He had told her he loved her, of course, on Vulcan after he told her they were already bonded. Six month later, she had brought the subject up again and he had confirmed "his feelings were unchanged and likely to remain so". She was used to humans and their fickle emotional ways. Vulcan avoided emotional attachments but once they formed they were not easily removed. It was a favourable sign that she no longer sought reassurance on this point. She was human, though, and human women liked verbal reassurance of love, so he said it.
"The boys are asleep," he hinted. The boys were four months old and she had not yet instigated sex. He recoiled from propositioning her and being rejected. Vulcan males did not respond well to rejection from their mates. It triggered a deep set fear response that was difficult to suppress and developed easily into violence. He had suffered enough emotional turmoil in recent years so he preferred to wait rather than risk rejection. It would be beneficial for his emotional state to go to Gol as he had at the end of the first five year mission, to clear his mind and stabilise his emotions but his new obligations prevented it. Most Vulcans strove to live quiet, uneventful lives, it made following the Way of Surak much easier. He needed time to process everything that had happened.
It was still an assumption on his part that they were to continue on as they had been, to put their argument behind them as if it had never happened. He would never forget it, the pain she had caused him but it was illogical to dwell on it. They would have to go on from here. Forgiveness would come more easily if she were to physically demonstrate her regret.
She gave a small sad smile. "Actually, since we're alone and I've had a sleep, I think we need to have a talk. We have some issues to discuss." Between Jim and his mother, it was rare that they had a night to themselves.
He could feel tension through the bond. "Is something bothering you?" he asked.
She hesitated, and then said "I'm not sure I want to go back to work. But on the other hand, staying home with the babies all day is…less than intellectually stimulating."
Nothing serious then but he wasn't sure what to say so he asked, "Do you have a plan? Further education, perhaps, or teaching" he suggested.
"I won't be able to live off my savings for too long," she continued. This ruled out education, she'd already had her free education, although a degree in literature or similar would be inexpensive. It didn't use the same resources as the sciences, only the exams cost credits, the lectures were available for free.
Spock bit down on his first impulse to offer her money. He had lived an ascetic life for years and had extensive savings even without counting his inheritance. He knew the offer would anger her as it had on previous occasions. "I feel it is my duty to offer to pay for half the genetic engineering costs as they are my children too." T'Pau would pay for them if Gillian let them join the S'chn T'gai instead of R'hil N'dat. She didn't wave him off as usual. "Maybe," she said, not reacting to his suggestion. He had not addressed her primary concern then.
"You could contract out as a hybridisation specialist," he suggested, although he was sure she had considered the option.
"Maybe," she said. She tilted her head to look him in the eyes, "You wouldn't think less of me if I quit?"
"Of course not. That would be illogical," he replied, puzzled by the question. His own mother had taken maternity leave for the first three years of his life although she was an award winning educator. "I am confident you will succeed at whatever you decide to do. May I point out some would consider raising our children to be an important endeavour? Especially for the first three years." After that, he wanted them to begin the long process of a proper Vulcan education. He had pointed out the advantages of it to Gillian but she had been non-committal. As the boys' only legal parent, she had sole guardianship. He was unsure how much he should pressure her. "Yes," she said, biting her lip, "and when I'm away from them I miss them, too." She set her jaw "No, you're right," she said, about what Spock had no idea. "The children have to come first. I'm a mother now and I have to put their needs first. I will send in my resignation in the morning, hopefully they will let me come in a few days a month to talk to George and Gracie. I'm not sure what else I can do, but I will think of something. Further education, hybridisation contracting, teaching," she pulled a face at the last one. She breathed out and some of the tension left her body.
"There are other things we have to talk about," she continued. He remained silent. He thought he knew the direction the conversation was going but in case he was wrong, he didn't want to initiate it.
"I don't want any secrets between us," she said. "And I've been keeping some for a while now. I wanted to wait until we knew how things were going to turn out with James before I brought the subject up. You won't be happy with what I'm going to say but I miss the relationship we used to have and I want it back. We can't have it without total honesty."
Spock tensed and pushed his mental controls further into place. "I know," he said. "Jim told me." He had been…displeased by Jim's confession. He knew that human ways were different from Vulcan ways and that Gillian had never agreed to conform to the behaviour standards of a Vulcan wife. Or to marry him, for that matter, but she knew his opinion on these things and did not usually stray from acceptable behaviour. Acceptable behaviour for a married woman as Gillian understood it, anyway. Vulcan rules were much stricter.
"He did?" She sounded surprised, as though she though Jim would continue to deceive him past the point of necessity. Perhaps he should listen to her version of events.
He pushed his anger away, he would not react, it was not logical. The main functions of a Vulcan wife were to save his life every seven years and to provide him with children. Gillian had performed brilliantly at both, done more than he could ever have wished. He would not chide her for her lapse. His fierce desire to do so was an animal passion, a remnant of the violent past his ancestors had foresworn. That he had foresworn. T'Pring's words at the kal-i-fee indicated that she intended to continue her association with Stonn if their marriage went ahead. He would have had to ignore the situation as long as she attended to the duties of a wife and did not publicly flaunt the relationship.
"I damaged our marriage in order to get my own way and I want to make it up to you," she said, staring up at him with wide sincere eyes. "Tell me what you want me to do to make it better and I will do it."
"It is not necessary," he replied, pushing down the desire to make her pay.
"It would make me feel better, relieve my guilt," she insisted. "I will feel better if you give me something to do as penance." He should refuse, it was illogical, it would not help his emotional state, would not make him 'feel better'. But if her guilt drove her to actions she would not otherwise entertain, he was free to take advantage of them. There were several logical actions she resisted performing.
"It is logical for us to be married," he said. "It is a stable home environment for the children and will clarify the legalities of our relationship."
A tiny wrinkle creased her brow. "A Vulcan marriage?" she asked.
"By default, we are both Vulcan citizens," he replied. He would agree to a Federation ceremony, if that was what she wished but it would not change the legalities. A traditional Vulcan ceremony was more logical but he had already had one. His research had mentioned that human women liked to differentiate their weddings from those of previous wives.
She did not reply, avoiding his gaze.
"You do not wish to be married to me?" he noted, his voice steady. He did not want to force her, but she had offered her compliance.
She jerked her head up. "It's not you who are the problem," she reassured him. "It's the marriage part."
Spock had readied his arguments for this part. "Marriage does have a long history of misogyny and patriarchal entitlement on both of our planets, but you shouldn't let that influence your decision. Current day marriages have as little in common with…"
Gillian interrupted "If we marry, then T'Pau has the authority to make decisions about me and the boys. She can make us send them to the schools she wants and organise their marriages. Can't she?"
He hesitated for an instant before saying, "You would have the final say." Officially, that was true. There would be considerable pressure for her to take 'advice' from the matriarch. Sarek had endured familial separation not just from choosing Amanda but for not pressuring her to raise Spock in a completely Vulcan manner. Spock's schooling had been Vulcan but his mother had kissed him in public on three separate occasions and thrown her arms around him when he returned safe from his kahs-wan, humiliating him in front of his peers.
He could, of course, offer to join R'hil N'dat but doing so would mean relinquishing his rank as heir. His father had campaigned for years to have Spock accepted as his heir. Even Amanda had commented, when she thought he was out of earshot, that she enjoyed the thought of seeing the children who had been his adversaries bow down to him when he took his father's position, though it was unlikely that she would live to see it.
"Why?" Gillian asked. His eyebrow rose at the question.
"Why marriage? What part is important to you? If I bought a ring and changed my name, would that be enough? Or is it something different that you want?" He hadn't wanted to say it, the likelihood that she would be insulted was high, but she had asked.
"I would have guardianship of the boys, in the event of your death," he admitted. And a legal position if she left him. Their separation had made him realise the possibility. He hoped that she would not deny him access to his sons in that event, but he had seen more than one previously rational spouse of an 'Enterprise' crewman behave in an atrocious and illogical manner after the breakup. Leonard McCoy had rarely seen his daughter from the time of his divorce from Jocelyn until the girl was eighteen. Her moving to a different planet had made physical visitation difficult. "And more say in their upbringing," he added.
Gillian' brow creased. "You have equal say now," she objected, puzzled. "Serek's name would be Anthony if it were my choice." Vulcan tradition dictated that the mother named the child but cultural expectations were taken into account and the eldest sons in S'chn T'gai were named in honour of Surak. Most of their parenting decisions had been made under the advice of the Vulcan doctors assigned to the babies care. Reduced in number since the hospital discharge, they sent daily recommendations as to sleeping patterns and custom mixed the formula according to readings sent via the monitors.
"You have listened to my point of view before you made your decision," he conceded. Disregarding it and continuing with the pregnancy against his wishes.
Guilt, chagrin and insult flickered both across her face and through the bond. "Okay, that's fair. I can't say that I would like the reverse situation, being dependent upon your goodwill." She tilted her head to one side "Paper contracts are still legal here, aren't they?"
"To differentiate between the materials a legal document is written on would be illogical. Paper is rarely used anymore because electronic storage is faster, safer and ..." she had turned and left the room, returning from the office with a sheet of the thick paper she used to send special invitations and a fountain pen. Propping it on the back of her main PADD, she wrote in straight even lines across the paper.
"I, Gillian Marie Taylor assign S'chn T'gai Spock cha Sarek equal legal custody and guardianship of my sons James Anthony Taylor and Serek Michael Taylor as he is their biological father." She folded the paper over, so the top edge covered the writing and creased it shut.
Glancing in the mirror, she smoothed down her dishevelled hair. Spock grabbed the brush with one hand and her hair with the other, quickly coiling it at the base of her neck, securing it with a copper clasp.
In the hallway, Gillian caught the attention of the first people to walk down the hallway. "Excuse me, could I ask you to witness a signature for me?" The women, uniformed Embassy guards on their way off shift, agreed and watched Gillian sign the paper and attested to the veracity of the signature. Pleased, Gillian thanked them, waved off the lecture on the illogic of thanks and presented Spock with the folded piece of paper.
It wasn't the joyous acceptance of his name and clan that Spock had wanted but he could feel tension unwind within him as his fingers closed over the crisp paper. Whatever happened, he would not be parted from his sons. He turned the words over his mind, enjoying the weight and feel of them. Returning to the bedroom, he slid it into the safe on his side of the room. He turned to find Gillian watching him, a chagrined, hopeful expression on her face watching for his reaction, waiting for his approval as he had waited on her for so long. He rebuked himself for the thought, it had been a stressful year and it was logical for her to have focussed her attention where it was needed. She, and he suspected Carol Marcus, had had to make the adjustments which allowed James to live. Restoration of her health after the difficult inter-species pregnancy was also a priority; which brought them to the next subject.
"Will you destroy all the samples you still have of my DNA?" Two boys were enough, another pregnancy would be disagreeable. He clasped his hands behind his back and looked as stern as possible.
Gillian's eyes flickered away before she said "I can't." She rushed in with further explanation. "I already made another embryo, at the same time as the boys. It was supposed to be a boy and a girl, before James. I promised you a daughter, remember." He did, as clearly as the day it happened. Her bright and happy smile lit by the morning sunlight on the beach as she said, "We are going to have a baby girl in seven months' time. You don't have to worry, I've had Dr Corrigan review my work personally and he says I have achieved a viable embryo that shouldn't upset my immune system." Daniel Corrigan was the human half of the Human/Vulcan partnership that had performed Spock's genetic engineering. The drug that had suppressed his mother's immune system while she carried an alien child had won them a Zi Magni.
Gillian knew him too well. If the embryo was stored, it would become the property of the Federation on their deaths, distributed for growth and birth to suitable adoptive parents. If there was little chance of success, perhaps he would have preferred it, avoided the risks to Gillian's health and his own stress levels. Now, he could not countenance anyone other than him raising his child, even if it did mean another endless stressful pregnancy. Waiting wasn't an option either. His age mates had shunned him at their parent's behest, when they weren't actively attempting to make him lose his composure. He had been pleased for Serek when James had lived, more than for himself. Serek would never be as lonely as he had been throughout his childhood. It was desirable for the third child to be as close in age as possible.
"I want the rest destroyed,' he said. She nodded, mouth set but pleased nonetheless.
"You won't be sorry," she promised, slipping her arms around him and laying her head against his chest. A smile flickered at the edge of her mouth. It still amused her not to feel his heartbeat. Leaning back, not releasing her arms, she said, "It will be okay. I was right about the boys, wasn't I? I promise you a very boring pregnancy this time. I know that our bonding was an accident and you can't get out of it but you won't regret it. T'Para might be a full Vulcan but I will be a better wife to you than she was. I can do this."
How could she reach such an inaccurate conclusion? "Who told you that?" he asked. "That I stayed bonded to you because I couldn't get the bonding severed?"
"Everyone," she said, looking perplexed, "Everyone who said anything to me at all about it. They all say the same thing, that the bond affects your mind, makes you not want to take it off. T'Pau, your mother, some of the healers came into speak to me. At a guess, everyone who read my medical file came and spoke to me."
"I told them in case it affected anything," she added in an explanatory tone. "T'Pau said that the main reason she allowed your parents' bond to remain was the difficulty and danger involved in removing it. There's such a high risk of mental or emotional damage when one or more parties are against it, and they usually are, because of the nature of the bond. Usually, I gather, the only time it's removed is if one of the participants is already bonded but there is an emergency of some kind." She didn't need to specify what kind of emergency. "The second bond is usually weak and easy to remove. Even then, the other partner often suffers, but it's a choice between them and the original spouse."
"That is an incorrect interpretation of events," he said. "I was in the process of courting you when we were bonded. It is why I invited you on the boat excursion. If events had proceeded as I had planned, we would have ended up in the same position."
Her face lit up with happiness. "Really?"
"Yes." He unclasped his hands, sliding them along her arms to her elbows, letting his sincerity flow through to her, sensing for her emotions. She had thought him still married and thus dismissed any indication of attraction in his behaviour but what of her? He had never dared to ask. "Did you not feel attraction to me before we were bonded?" Her eyelashes swept downward and her cheeks coloured.
"At the Institute, when you said 'It is not logical to hunt a species to extinction' it was like your voice physically touched me. Every hair on the back of my neck stood up." Satisfied, he didn't ask further. He had seen her expression. The age difference for a human with the shortened life span of her generation was considerable. Events after that had been rapid and not conducive to considered thought.
"What Nyota said was disappointing", she continued. He drew her close again. "Don't blame her, she just mentioned it in passing, she was dropping large hints about how Jim wasn't really the settling down type. He kissed her hair, trailing down to her forehead as she tilted her head back again. He pressed his lips to her soft brow, making gentle tugs on her cheek and jawline. His hand slid off her arm to her side, gliding onto her hip beneath the nightgown. Gillian moaned softly and pressed against him.
"I have decided what actions you must take as penance," he said before everything completely left his control. He pushed her away, still within arm's length but not touching him, the cloth blocking her emotions.
"First, tell me about Jim," he said, hoping he would not regret it.
