oOo

Spock finished pulling on his clothes, contemplating the sleeping form of his newest paramour as he did so. She was beautiful, the part of him that appreciated such aesthetics noted, with her masses of dark hair tumbled in disarray and her dark lashes shielding her eyes, both in stark contrast to the creaminess of her skin. She was similar in coloring to his wife and in physical form to Christine Chapel, which made his unanticipated physical attraction to her almost…logical.

Marlena stirred and mumbled in her sleep, turning slightly on one side but not awakening. It was just as well; now that he had sealed his alliance with her, Spock needed to focus on his missions, the one set to him by Starfleet and the clandestine one he had undertaken for the alternate version of James Kirk. It was intriguing, to find that he was capable of forming a friendship with a human, not merely an alliance, at least in the other life he had gotten a glimpse of through his meld with the other Leonard McCoy.

He moved smoothly for the door, stopping as he heard Marlena call his name. He turned to look at her, deriving more than mere satisfaction from the sight of her only half-covered by the thin blankets on her bunk. "You may move your belongings back into the Captain's quarters," he told her. "I have already had mine placed there, and will be sure to inform my bodyguards of your new status."

She grimaced. "You mean my old status. Captain's Woman." She bit her lip and looked away. "I'm sorry, that sounded bitter and I didn't mean it to be."

"If things go as the other Kirk believes, then that phrase will no longer be anything more than a courtesy title." In two strides he had returned to the bed, folding his lean form into a crouch and looking steadily at her. "You will be able to advance without the need to curry sexual favors. Nor do I expect such favors from you unless they are offered voluntarily," he added. "Your assistance in our new cause does not require your presence in my bed, although I…appreciate it."

She held his gaze for a long moment, then smiled, reaching out and brushing his cheek with her fingertips. "I know, remember? The bond." The smile faded and she pulled her hand back. "Do you share such a bond with your wife, or with Christine?" Everyone knew the gossip, just as everyone knew that Christine had been pregnant with Spock's child when he had her transferred off the ship, presumably to Vulcan.

"My bond with T'Pring had never been strong, and my bond with Christine was temporary," was Spock's immediate, and candid, response. "Our only bond is through our child, whose existence I believe you have already surmised." She blushed and nodded, ashamed suddenly of listening to ship's gossip. Spock, however, remained impassive. "His name is Sovas, although Christine insists on calling him by his human middle name, David. My mother is frequently irritated with her for her refusal to adapt to the life she claimed to have wanted," he added. "But not to the point where she is willing to turn her over to my wife or her lover, Stonn. Although she has threatened to do so on numerous occasions, I am grateful that she has restrained herself, if only for Sovas' sake."

That was far more information than Marlena had expected or even deserved to share, and she said as much to Spock. Who shook his head. "I disagree. If we are to maintain our trust in one another, we must be willing to share. I must be willing to share," he corrected himself. "You have already shown yourself more than willing to do so."

Before she could respond, Spock's communicator gave forth an urgent series of beeps. Spock flipped it open. "Spock here."

The voice of the acting Chief Communication's Officer came through. "Captain Spock, we've arrived at Sigma Iotia II. There's been unauthorized transporter use in Transporter Room Three. I have sent security officers to secure the room, as per standing orders. I thought you should be informed immediately." Marlena didn't recognize the woman's Scandinavian-accented voice.

"Thank you, Lt. Klaas." Spock closed the communicator and looked at Marlena, who was scrambling into her uniform, tugging her halter top down over her breasts and hauling her skirt up over her hips. "I believe we should investigate."

"You think it's Jim and Uhura." Marlena reached for her boots, pulling them up hastily, then casting about for her undergarments, which Spock silently handed her. She slithered them up her legs, then yanked her skirt back down and jumped to her feet. "You said you didn't think they were dead." She combed her fingers through her hair before thrusting her dagger into her boot-top.

"And now it's time to confirm that theory." Spock headed for the door at a brisk walk while Marlena hesitated behind him. Damn, there just wasn't time to do anything with her hair; her brush was still boxed up somewhere. She hurried after him, her emotions in turmoil. Part of her hoped that Jim was still alive, while part of her, the cold, practical part, hoped this was just a false alarm. It would be easier for everyone if Jim Kirk wasn't around to put a wrench into their plans, tentative and unformed though they currently were.

And it would certainly be easier for her.