Sol was setting.
It had been a long day. There had been a considerable amount of work to be done in connection with her application for political asylum; after all, it was hardly surprising that it had caused more than a little furor when the news broke on Vulcan. Ambassador Soval had been active behind the scenes, deflecting at least some of the criticism at higher levels, though the silence from the High Command itself had been ominous.
So her choice had been made. Effectively Vulcan was lost to her.
And her mother…
T'Les had indeed disappeared from their home, and official enquiries had not succeeded in discovering her whereabouts. Though given that a couple of other suspected dissidents had also vanished in the same night, it was possible that all of them had been snatched up in a raid on potential enemies of the State. If that was the case, nobody might ever know what had happened to any of them.
'She's safe! She's gone to join the Syrrannites!
'She's safe! You don't have to lie anymore!'
Was she safe?
Would she ever find out?
Starfleet HQ was positioned on the edge of the bay, and given her now rather sensitive status she'd been given quarters there. She'd spent the afternoon in conference with Soval and several Starfleet admirals, discussing what might lie behind that mysterious attack on Jonathan Archer and Lieutenant Reed – the attack that had had virtually no chance of succeeding. Now that she had thrown in her lot with the Humans she felt no compunction about sharing with them as much as she knew about the High Command and its often extremely secretive workings.
Soval, also present, had occasionally frowned, but he had his own concerns about the way Vulcan politics was shaping and did not interfere. He understood that she felt obliged to be open in return for being granted asylum, even if his own still divided loyalties did not allow him to be the same.
The ambassador had departed just under an hour ago. She was certainly not allowed to return to the Vulcan compound in Sausalito, and she felt a mild regret for the calm and order that reigned there – the gardens in particular were austere and beautiful – but there was no logic in looking back.
She had not, up till now, had any interaction with any of her fellow-officers from Enterprise. She understood that on Admiral Forrest's recommendation she was to be offered a commission at a rank equal to that she had already held, but so far nothing had been said regarding on what ship she was to serve. Still, she was aware that wounds take time to heal, and relationships can be wounded just as bodies can; and so she had made no attempt to seek out any of the men she had so grievously injured, allowing time for their undoubtedly turbulent emotions to settle a little.
Her initial apology would not be nearly enough to mend what had been so horribly shattered. There would need to be adjustments made on all sides, and almost certainly it would take time before any real healing could take place. But though conversation during the celebratory meal on that first day had occasionally seemed a little forced, a later one with Ensign Sato had given her hope that it was possible to rebuild at least some of what she had been coerced into destroying.
"They understand why you did what you did," Hoshi had said over a cup of mint tea on a balcony overlooking the shore. "That helps. Give it time, they'll come round. Habit's a hard thing to break, especially when you don't really want to."
And, most unexpectedly, the ensign had given her a hug when she left.
Habit. The years aboard Enterprise had forged a number of habits. Most of them had been habits of operation, but growing unseen among them had been the habit of trust. Of … friendship.
Human emotions were still strange to her, a minefield into which she ventured only with caution. Although naturally akin to Vulcan ones, they were both weaker and stronger. Weaker, in that they were inherently less powerful in nature; stronger, because they exercised such influence over almost everything Humans did. Soval had been wholly correct in remarking once that Humans were such a mass of contradictions that one never knew at any given time which facet of them you would find yourself dealing with.
Now, once again, she found herself back on the shore. Alone this time. There were people out enjoying the last of the sunshine – playing with their children, walking their canines, or even just sitting on the benches and enjoying the view in silence.
For Humans, it was probably quite a pleasantly warm evening. For a Vulcan it was a little on the chilly side, and she wrapped her short coat more tightly around herself and wished she'd chosen something rather warmer.
"So how was the honeymoon?" asked a familiar voice behind her.
She thrust her hands into her pockets. "The first part of it was spent meditating at Mount Seleya – alone. The second part I was effectively under house arrest at the High Command's headquarters, where I was not allowed to see or speak to anyone except my attorneys and Administrator V'Las's spies."
"Doesn't sound like a barrel of laughs." He moved forward unhurriedly and leaned on the railing beside her, staring out across the water.
"Since I am no longer a Vulcan citizen I imagine Koss will divorce me immediately," she went on evenly. "So there is, to use the Human expression, 'a silver lining to every cloud'."
Neither of them said anything for a while.
"How did you know about my mother?" she asked at last.
"So I did get through to you." He glanced at her. "I got a message. Same as I got a message you were in trouble, and I'm guessin' from the same people. If they were right about the one they're probably right about the other.
"Don't you have any way of findin' out?"
"Soval will have enquiries made. But he has to be extremely careful. He is unpopular with the High Command because of his moderate views."
A faint huff of laughter. "Time was when that's the last thing I'd have called him – 'moderate'."
"Time changes all of us – and not always in ways we would expect."
A gust of stronger wind blew in from the west, and she shivered and turned up the collar of her coat.
"You're cold."
She wanted to reply You've been on Vulcan, you know the temperatures my species evolved to deal with but that would bring up too many memories, with which neither of them were probably ready to deal.
He moved to her other side, interposing his body between hers and the direction of the wind. A movement of his hand suggested he'd thought about unfastening his jacket and offering it to her, but maybe they weren't quite ready for that either.
"You do know you can get a divorce here, whether Koss likes it or not," he said in a voice that struggled for distance. "While you're in California, the court has jurisdiction over you to terminate the marriage. If – if that was what you wanted, the papers could be sent to Vulcan by subspace and served on him. If he doesn't respond after thirty days, the attorney enters a default against him.
"Then there'd be a hearing, between thirty and forty-five days later. It's a five minute hearing or it can be done by declaration, you wouldn't even have to show up.
"Bottom line is, no matter what he wants, he can't stop you." He swallowed. "If that's what you want."
Remotely she wondered why a man born and raised in Florida should have such an intimate knowledge of the divorce laws of a state on the other side of the continent.
But there again, she probably already knew.
It's not often that time turns back and offers you a second chance at an opportunity you spurned the first time. And when it does, it's not – 'logical' – to spurn it again. Fate, however occasionally tolerant of a foolish mistake, never rewards outright stupidity.
Not that Vulcans believed in Fate, but the concept was the same...
"Then I will have to arrange for the papers to be drawn up," she replied steadily. "There is nothing to be gained by continuing with a relationship I never wished for in the first place."
She felt him stiffen slightly, and realized that the statement was a blade with two edges.
"I have had time to consider everything that has happened to me," she continued, keeping her voice even. "And as I said, time changes us in ways we would never have expected.
"Sometimes the changes bring ... challenges. But changes are a part of life. We can accept them, and the challenges they bring, or we can remain static – and ultimately die."
He was still gazing seaward. The wind ruffled his hair.
"I cannot offer any guarantees if I ... if we... choose to pursue a relationship. Before the Xindi attack, there might have been more hope. Now, all aliens are objects of suspicion; often, of hate. If you choose me for a mate, you will encounter resistance. I will not be accepted. We will not be accepted. Even some among your own family may disown you, just as would have happened on Vulcan if I had acknowledged you there as the man I wished to marry.
"I do not wish to be the cause of you becoming a pariah among your own people, Commander."
He turned then and looked at her. His eyes were bluer than the sea beyond him. "You think I give a single damn about anyone who doesn't accept my wife?"
Now it was her turn to swallow. He had said...
"We live in the real world, not in a work of romantic fiction. We will encounter hostility. And as for children..."
Without her quite noticing it happening, he had come closer. His face was suddenly much nearer hers, and his eyes were on her lips. "Sure I'd like kids. An' when the both of us are ready I'd like just fine seein' if we could make 'em happen.
"But in the meantime, I want something good to have come out of all of this. An' right now, I can't think of anything I'd like more than to make you Mrs Charles Tucker III, just as soon as you get that damned paper that says you're a free woman again."
His proximity was making thinking difficult. Still, she tried. "I believe a period of – of adjustment will be more advisable. We will have to determine whether we are absolutely compatible."
"Oh, I think we already found that out." By now his warm breath was fanning across her face. "But I'm sure ready to remind you if you've forgotten."
She definitely had not forgotten, despite numerous attempts to do so. The events of one particular night in the Expanse had remained lodged in her memory, and now a pool of warmth at the base of her body testified that the idea of being 'reminded' was almost worth the indignity of claiming (dishonestly) to require it.
His kiss was incredibly light, almost as if expecting her to draw away. Then he pulled back a little, clearly to assess whether he should proceed further.
She cleared her throat. "I believe that events in the Expanse may have had a deleterious effect on my memory," she announced, throwing caution to the winds. "I find myself in need of a great deal of reminding."
The smile of heart-stopping delight that came over his face said that he was more than happy to administer all the reminding she could require, and the arm that slipped around her waist said that there was no time like the present – or at least, given that they were in a public place right now, no time like whatever it would be when they reached a bedroom.
A sentiment with which she was more than happy to concur, and they turned together to walk to the accommodation block.
"I know this isn't going to be easy," he said as they crossed the central plaza, which was crowded with people strolling together in twos or threes just talking, or hurrying about their business. "The whole relationship thing, I mean. But we didn't set out aboard Enterprise thinkin' it was goin' to be all plain sailin'.
"We had setbacks, sure. But think of the discoveries we made. Think of the discoveries that are still out there.
"An' think of the discoveries there still are. Right here."
And right in the middle of the plaza, in full view of half of Starfleet, he pulled both of them to a halt, and kissed her.
