Saavik wiped her hands on her gold and green tunic and peered through the doorway into the dining room. She was already regretting her choice of garments: the tunic was light and airy in the Vulcan style. But Amanda and Sarek's house was currently several degrees colder than most Vulcans would find comfortable. She knew it had not been this chilly during her two previous visits.
But then she hadn't yet been present in areas of the house occupied by offworlders unacclimated to Vulcan's hot dry climate. McCoy and Kirk were denizens of Starfleet ships, which Saavik judged to be chilly and slightly more humid than ideal. Fortunately all of her assigned cabin mates on ships had either been non-Humans who hailed from hot worlds with multiple suns or, once, a Human from central Africa whose tolerance was closer to Saavik's preference. She had not been so fortunate during her Academy years, but those experiences had been valuable lessons in diplomacy. The climate controls were a constant source of friction, and she was guilty of letting her temper reign just as often as her bunkmates, every one human.
A shiver unexpectedly wracked her frame as she peered into the dining room again. "May I offer you a robe, Lieutenant?" Saavik did not successfully contain a flinch at the sound of Spock's voice behind her. Annoyance at being caught off guard warred with anxiety, and she forced herself to turn and face him. Spock was holding a heavy velvet robe slightly toward her.
"Thank you," she said, relieved her voice didn't break. Fortunately her tone sounded like that of someone who was unaffected by his presence. She thought there was no reason for him to suspect that her palms were sweaty and heart rate elevated due to his presence.
"You appear to be suffering from anxiety, Lieutenant."
She quickly calculated her odds of successfully slipping away from this meal unnoticed, chartering a freighter, and finding the furthest point in the quadrant to start a new life.
The robe was still warm from Spock's body heat, and Saavik detected his scent just barely lingering. As she took a deep breath to center herself, the edge of another familiar scent caught her attention. James T. Kirk.
Eliminate him. Chase him far away.
The primal urge took her completely by surprise. She held great respect and admiration for Admiral Kirk's abilities, career, and legend. They were not on friendly terms, but she did not expect an attitude of familiarity from a high-ranking officer. After Spock's death, it was Kirk who had "suggested" that Saavik transfer from the Enterprise to the Grissom to work on the Genesis project. It took McCoy's blend of kind honesty to make her understand: she was a constant reminder of Spock, and it would be best for both parties if she were anywhere except the bridge of the Enterprise. She fostered no ill will toward Admiral Kirk. It had been a logical decision for a grieving Human.
"Lieutenant?"
"Yes, Captain. Sir. I am… I am unfamiliar with Vulcan high dining etiquette, but it did not seem prudent to be the first guest to arrive at the table." She took another deep breath and looked upward into his face. But his gaze did not meet hers; he was now looking past her into the dining room.
"Ambassador Sarek and Lady Amanda find no logic in miring themselves in ancient rules unless they are hosting ancient Vulcans. You will find that standard Federation customs will suffice."
Saavik followed him into the dining room, the heavy green robe dragging the stone flooring by a few centimeters. She was relieved to finally have a conversation with Spock, even if it was incredibly brief and lacked the familiarity of the relationship they shared before his death. But she was also relieved to be seated between McCoy and Amanda. Sarek was seated at the head of the table next to McCoy, and the chair between Sarek and Kirk stood empty for Spock.
When she was seated and her borrowed robe arranged to avoid being underfoot, she looked up to watch Spock take his seat next to Kirk. She waited for a vicious , small voice to spit and curse upon seeing the Admiral, but there was only much welcomed silence from her inner hellcat.
But then Kirk raised his eyebrows, eyes twinkling, and smirked at Spock who responded by raising one eyebrow. Saavik was sure she was imagining a slight quirk at the corner of Spock's lip. "You know, I like you with less clothes, but should I be worried they've ended up on her?" he whispered, thought not quiet enough for the Vulcans at the table.
Kill him. Slash those glittering eyes and vulgar tongue. Enemy, intruder, alien.
"Honored guests," Sarek announced, levelling a disapproving gaze at Kirk. McCoy barely suppressed a snort. "We are gratified by your presence, and especially that of our son."
Amanda completed the invocation: "We are most pleased by the continued presence of Admiral Kirk and Doctor McCoy. And we welcome you, Saavik, student and friend of Spock." Saavik sipped her water from the ornate two-handed goblet before her and pondered Amanda's words. She was not certain that she would have been considered Spock's friend before his death, but she knew that was not the correct classification now. But Amanda was kind and prone to exaggeration like many Humans.
"So, we haven't had the chance to catch up. How's Vulcan?" McCoy asked Saavik, setting his own goblet on the table. McCoy was one of the few people who understood that this was her first time on the planet that most assumed was her birth world.
"It adheres to the specifications listed in all documents and guides that I have read."
"Yeah, but are you enjoying yourself? Do you like it?"
"Enjoyment is an emo-"
"Emotion… yeah, yeah, I know," McCoy interrupted. "Is it what you'd always hoped, though?"
She took a moment to consider the question as she took a bite of greenery. "It is… agreeable. But it is also not what I expected."
"How so?" Amanda asked from Saavik's other side.
"While I am not yet well-travelled as my Starfleet career has barely started, I can attest that it is dissimilar to any planet I have visited."
Sarek joined the conversation, "No two planets are identical, so your statement is self-evident." The more time Saavik spent in Sarek's company, the more she understood that Spock had been comparatively lax in his expectations from her as a child. Talking to Sarek was an exercise in learning to be brief and precise, and she wondered how Amanda had endured his presence long enough to consent to being his bondmate.
She faced him. "I stated that it was dissimilar to other planets; you err in extrapolating that I envisage a possibility of identical planets." McCoy didn't bother hiding his guffaw this time.
Sarek, older and wiser, was not quick to irritate. "I concede. However, I maintain that your statement is self-evident and therefore does little to answer Doctor McCoy's query."
"Now wait a minute, don't drag me into-"
"I disagree," Saavik argued. She leaned slightly forward towards Sarek, prompting McCoy to scoot his chair back a few centimeters. "Comparisons are a common tool employed in Human conversation, evidenced by their frequent use of metaphors and similes. I could have compared and contrasted Vulcan to Earth's desert regions as this would be a subclimate with which the Doctor may be familiar."
"Yet you did not. You stated it is dissimilar to any planet you have visited, including Earth. This suggests that you do not regard Shi'Kahr to be similar to Death Valley or the Sahara. I suspect that you have not visited either of these regions."
"I have not. You may not understand that the schedule of a cadet of the Starfleet command program is rigorous with only short periods of time in which one could travel to experience diverse regions of Earth's climate. But you have made another error in thinking that I was referring primarily to comparison in climates."
"You were the person that introduced the climate comparison in the discussion," Sarek replied. Perversely, his continued stoicism served to impel her intensity.
"I posit that you are being deliberately captious!"
"You know what, I forget I asked," McCoy groused. He had been waiting for Spock to reign Saavik in, but Spock was silently working through his salad. "Stars above, you two."
Saavik raised an eyebrow at Sarek but ceased to continue the argument. Sarek raised a wooly gray eyebrow in response, but similarly conceded. Amanda huffed out a silent laugh, and Saavik felt a blush heat her cheeks. She knew it was rude by both Federation and Vulcan customs to argue with your host over a meal.
"I'm not skilled in debate," Amanda said. "So, I think Sarek has missed this kind of discourse since Spock left for Starfleet."
"I have not."
She continued, "He and Spock would have spirited conversation at last meal until I abandoned them and went to bed. They'd still be at it when I'd sit down for first meal the next morning."
"Surely you exaggerate, Mother," Spock insisted.
"Oh I'm sure she doesn't!" McCoy bayed. "I'd leave the bridge in the middle of an argument between you two," McCoy used his fork to gesture at Kirk and Spock, "and come back up hours later, and you'd still be at it."
"What can I say?" Kirk replied, smiling fondly. "Spock's a skilled orator." He winked at Spock who responded with a raised eyebrow and slight head bobble.
Something in that silent exchange was like a puzzle piece slotting into place in Saavik's mind. There was familiarity and fondness between the two of them that transcended death and resurrection. To Saavik, Spock was like a sketch of his former self, like someone programmed an android with all of Spock's skills and knowledge, but none of his personality. But in Kirk's light, he was more. More engaged, more loquacious, more present, more… Spock.
And she knew now what she had to do. Or rather: what she could not do. This dinner had been designed by Amanda to provide an opportunity for Saavik to inform Spock about the pregnancy. Going into the meal, Saavik still had not decided if she was ready to reveal it, but if she wished, she could invite Spock to a private conversation at the conclusion of the meal.
But Spock had far to go yet in his recovery. His mind and memories strengthened with every passing hour, but life is long and the days are short. She suspected it would be months or years until he returned to his full self, if ever.
Untold numbers of people had grieved Spock's passing and rejoiced in his return. But those closest to him were relegated to a paradox of limbo: they had him back, but they were still waiting for his return.
Saavik had personally witnessed how the grief had affected Kirk. And now the admiral was navigating the loss of a son he'd barely known and this unorthodox return of his partner. Informing Spock of this pregnancy would greatly disrupt his recovery. The probability was high that the information could derail his progress in rebuilding his relationships including the friendship with McCoy. Saavik had noticed a new connection between McCoy and Spock. They still argued and sniped, but McCoy exhibited protective and possessive tendencies that she had not witnessed before Genesis. While it was possible this had been their relationship before, Saavik knew from her research that carrying another's katra affected the vessel's understanding and opinion of the deceased and were themselves permanently altered.
There was no research she could access that predicted how the bond between Kirk and Spock had been altered by the experience, especially considering that Kirk had not been the vessel for Spock's katra. Clearly the bond had survived, but the two men were striving to regain what they had had.
Saavik would not introduce a new complication to a tenuous situation. She was a minor character in Spock's cast of acquaintances, and the odds that the fetus would not survive to viability were extremely high anyway.
Finally: Saavik already bore the responsibility for David's death. She would not be the cause of any further anguish for Admiral Kirk. She would quash her desire to rebuild her relationship with Spock and endure the pregnancy without him.
Saavik was withdrawn throughout the rest of the meal. Both McCoy and Amanda attempted to draw her into conversation, and Sarek tried to bait her into discourse a few more times. (She suspected that Amanda's assessment was correct: Sarek craved spirited debate). Kirk was polite but distant when conversing with her, and Spock refrained from conversing with her entirely.
After the final course of sweet fruit (the smell of which caused Saavik a cramp of nausea), Saavik expressed gratitude and made her farewells. "Spock, please escort our guest to the door," Amanda stated. She stood and pulled Saavik into an embrace quicker than the Vulcan could dodge it. "Stay as long as you need," the matriarch whispered.
When Saavik pulled back and glanced at Spock, she thought she caught a glare slipping off Kirk's face. "I can see the Lieutenant out," Kirk offered.
"I wish to attend the task, Jim," Spock countered. "I will join you in our rooms afterwards."
Saavik tried to ignore Amanda's intense stare as she walked ahead of Spock to the front door of the large house. When they reached it, instead of opening the door, she turned to face him. "Captain Spock, I am honored by your family's invitation to dine tonight."
Spock glanced up at the space above the door where he knew a camera was installed. While his memories assured him that his mother was usually respectful of boundaries, she had clearly been invested in this conversation, and this was a conversation he wished to keep completely private. He opened his arm towards a door just to the side of the front door that Saavik had assumed to be a coat closet or powder room. Instead, when she opened the door, she found a very small but elegantly furnished sitting room just large enough for three people to converse comfortably.
As he shut the door to seal out the rest of the world, her resolve wavered. Perhaps his memories of her, of what they were before Genesis, had returned. She both yearned for that and dreaded it. If he only remembered her as his student, the pregnancy introduce an element of discord to that relationship.
"Captain Spock?"
"Lieutenant Saavik." It was all he said before lapsing into silence. She sought the patience necessary to let him continue, but was lacking.
"I will not return here if that is your preference." / "I owe you my life." The two sentences were spoken in tandem.
Saavik blinked quickly and tilted her head. Her immediate thought was a memory of their very first meeting when she saved him from a small savage boy holding a makeshift knife to his throat. "Please elaborate."
"I shall," Spock said. "But you may visit this house any time you wish, especially at Sarek or mother's invitation. You do not have to refuse an invitation because you believe I prefer it. However, I will admit that being in your company is… difficult."
Saavik felt her chest tighten. "I apologize. I do not wish to cause you despair."
"Your apology is not logical. You do not cause me to feel despair."
"Yes, of course, that is an emotion. My apologies."
"Saavik, you do elicit other emotions that I find difficult to suppress," he admitted quietly. She was unable to process the multitude of her own emotions that his statement caused. "I am aware that we have a history. We were close friends, and it is evident I trusted you greatly."
"I do not believe you would have classified us as friends. And I regret that I broke your trust many times. Once resulting in great consequence." Why had her time on this planet forced her to confront her greatest shames on a near constant basis? "You speak as if you have learned this information rather than as if you remember it."
"It is true that I have not yet recalled memories of our relationship… before." He hadn't been looking directly at her throughout the conversation, but now he turned his back on her completely. He folded his hands behind his back and gazed at a flickering flameless candle in the wall sconce before him. "My memories of my time spent on the Genesis Planet are currently my most vivid. Though some periods when I was experiencing fever are distorted like the memory of a dream. I remember the intense blizzard and the fires of the planet's death throes. And I remember two kind strangers who I know now to be David Marcus and you."
"You say that I evoke your emotions," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She did not want to ask, but she had to know. "What do you feel?"
He bowed his head. "Guilt. Shame. Abashment. Embarrassment."
Saavik stood from the plush couch and grabbed for the door handle. "You must understand…" He insisted as he pushed on the door, jerking the handle from her grip when it slammed shut. "Saavik!"
"I understand, Spock. I do. Please," she let out a sob that ended in a growl as she tugged on the handle. "Let me leave!"
"Wait, Saavik." He pushed himself between her and the door, and she stepped back in a crouch. Her respiratory rate was elevated 120%, fingers curved into claws, and eyes were rimmed a deep olive. When she pulled her lips back slightly, revealing her clenched teeth, he reflexively took two steps away from the door, away from this feral creature before him.
With instincts she had kept mostly subdued for years, she darted for the door, escaping his reach like a slithering thing. With a graceful twist, she pulled the door open far enough to slip through while dragging her foot to hook his and pull him off balance. His reflexes were quick enough to keep him from going down, but the moment of imbalance was all she needed. Before he could right himself to trail her, she was out of the sitting room and out of the front door.
He ran to follow, but the moonless night seemed impenetrable outside of the tight ring of light surrounding the house. Sarek had refrained from lighting the untouched land surrounding the estate as he was conscious of the scourge of light pollution. Spock's night vision was inferior to most Vulcans', but he ran out into the inky night without direction anyway, seeking Saavik.
The chase ended when he stumbled on a pile of cloth: the heavy robe he had lent her for last meal. It was laying in the middle of his blindly chosen path which led towards the city.
At the sound of footsteps behind him, Spock turned, gratified and disappointed to see that it was Jim who approached. "Spock?"
"I did not successfully convey my thoughts to Lieutenant Saavik. She exited abruptly and is presumably returning to the city on foot."
Jim looked out into the night, starlight and stray flood lights surrounding the house just enough to sketch the dramatic landscape surrounding the estate. A few hard top roads snaked through the terrain, but nature was in control of the rest. Jim tapped his teeth with his thumbnail for a moment, quickly running through their options.
"Well, you're not following on foot. Today has been a lot of activity for you, and you're exhausted." He wrapped his arm around Spock, letting the taller man lean against his studier frame. "C'mon back. Saavik is extremely capable of handling this terrain. I watched her beat the pants off every person she squared off against on the rock climbing wall."
"We must retrieve her. This region is home to 17 venomous nocturnal animals, and dozens more animals that are deadly by force alone."
"Spock!" Amanda called, running down the driveway to meet the men. "What was that?"
Spock pulled away from Jim's grip and stood tall. "Saavik is distressed and is fleeing on foot. I believe her destination is the city, but she may be acting without thought."
Amanda gasped and turned to Sarek. "Get the aircar and get her. At least take her back to the hotel."
"Amanda," Sarek countered, "she is a Starfleet officer with years of field training. Spock has described her superlative survival skills. If she wishes to venture on foot-"
"Go get her!"
Sarek turned without further argument and proceeded to the garage. At Jim's urging, Spock made his way into the house, peering into the night over his shoulder. Several memories were on the verge of his attention, but none would coalesce fully.
"What the hell do you think you're doing running out into the night like that?"
"Bones, just back off a little."
Amanda sat on the couch on Spock's side, Jim on the other. McCoy perched on a low table in front of the couch. "What happened?" Amanda asked gently.
"She took great offense to my words as I did not choose them with an appropriate degree of precision of articulateness. In her distress, she fled the house."
Amanda bit her lip, trying to work out whether Spock would be forthcoming with the subject of their disagreement in front of Jim and Leonard. "What was the nature of the conversation?"
"I wished to convey to her that I have not yet recalled any memory of our relationship before, but I do remember the period on Genesis clearly. It is… disturbing to me that she is responsible for my surviving the ordeal, yet I have no recall of this person to whom I owe my life. I am… ashamed."
Amanda's expression of concern did nothing to ease his turmoil. "Spock, those memories will return. It's not your fault, baby. Did she say anything to you? Reveal anything?"
"The conversation lasted only moments. I received no response from her other than a desire to terminate the conversation, though she did express her willingness to distance herself from this property if I wished it."
"And do you?" Jim asked. "She causes you a lot of heartache, so maybe it's good to limit your interaction with her until your memories return."
"Heartache?" Spock questioned.
Amanda wished to enfold Spock in her arms and sooth him with a lullaby. "This has all been so difficult for everyone, not just you three. But she idolizes you. Give her time to process this, and give yourself the same. And you will both eventually be ready to talk."
Spock sighed. "We must consider the possibility that my memories of her before Genesis will not resurface."
"Then you'll start over, son."
"Look at it this way," McCoy said, his gentle bedside manner kicking in. "You're not the first person ever to lose his memory. Total amnesia is rare, but others have lived through it. Saavik's real special, and if you have to start over with her, you should. Trust me," he tapped his temple. "I know."