Spock left the shower. He originally had planned to simply wash up and clean off the grime from the spar. With the arrival of Archernar's files, however, he could be with T'Pau and others for some time to go over the data. So he had stepped into the small changing room off of the exercise field to bathe and change into a clean uniform. He ignored the towel hanging next to the shower stall for those species that used the water jets. The desert made up too much of Spock's makeup to use them, so the towel had no purpose.

"Spock."

The steel used in his name was his only warning. Saavik came through the door with such force, the mechanics couldn't open fast enough. She had to twist her shoulders to enter, barely giving him time to snatch the now very important towel and wrap it around his waist.

"You had no right to commandeer that information!"

He should have known Saavik would come after him once she spoke with Uhura. And she had come right afterwards. She had cleaned off the chalk and the worst of the dirt, but she still wore her exercise clothes which still showed traces of their spar. Her skin was flushed from the exertion and the sun, and it emphasized her intensity. Especially the tossed hair and hard stare in her eyes.

Maybe his lapse in reason was why he so loftily dismissed her. "Saavik, you can see it is necessary for you to leave while I dress."

"On the contrary," she argued. "I have seen you nude before."

His lessons at Gol gave him the ingrained control to keep a blush from striking his body from head to toe. She unknowingly tested it further when her focus became that of the scientist, most likely noticing the differences in his body since Genesis.

She saw his discomfort -- it was impossible to miss -- and the hardness drained from her expression before she turned her back. "I ask your pardon. I did not intend to be rude but to state a fact."

But she didn't leave the room.

"The information belonged to me, Spock. You had no right to take possession of it."

He wondered how he could have forgotten her temper -- or her sometimes devastating honesty. He was not sure which this was.

Of course, Starfleet officers often couldn't afford modesty except for the same amount of privacy she gave him now. So her staying with her back turned wasn't that unusual. Except she could leave. The discussion could wait. At least he thought it could.

It is not as if she was any more comfortable with this when I first saw her at the fal tor pan.

He quickly donned pants and his uniform tunic, smoothing it into place. From buried memory came the phantom touch of her hands on Genesis as she removed his robe.

Soothing... warm... both easing away the turmoil and igniting fire.

The changing room was only meant for one person. It put her close, the heat of her presence brushing against his senses.

He made himself ignore it and deliberately didn't put on his uniform jacket. He didn't want to give his memory another opportunity to bring back her touch. This was not the time. "The information, Saavik, is in the same hands it would have eventually reached if you had received it. So I do not see your argument."

Was that a lie? he wondered. Because he did know.

"I wanted information from the files. However, while it is important to me, it is of an insignificant nature and does not warrant my disturbing T'Pau's offices by requesting it. You have now made that disturbance necessary."

"What information?" he asked.

"Birth dates."

The answer was so unexpected, he waited a second for her to give the real reason. But she was serious.

Could I have been wrong in assessing her intentions? No, she could not have changed that much, not in something so fundamental. So he put aside her answer, out loud and in his own mind.

She stiffened at this second dismissal. "You think it unimportant? To never know something as basic as this about yourself? To always give an approximate?"

"Not unimportant, no. However, I doubt a minor point can bear such a priority."

"Indeed? Then let me ask you a question, Spock." She dared at glance over her shoulder, most likely noticing a lack of any sort of dressing noises. When she saw he was fully clothed, she faced him. "How old are you?"

He stopped. He did not know. He could never know at what age he left Genesis, if he had lost years or gained them. Hadn't he only recently remembered that he had based her age on her size... a size created by malnutrition? When she could properly eat, she had grown taller than expected for her age group. He had always wondered if he had gauged wrong, but he had no way to know. The usual tests based on epidermal, organ, and bone growth were equally vague since they were equally affected by the damage done to her body by violence and lack of food.

The same way they wouldn't work for him. Genesis' rapid growth and failure exploded the usual signs age had on the body. When people asked, he gave them the age he would be if he had not died on the Enterprise.

But he did not know.

He was a Vulcan and a scientist, both marked by great curiosity and a life time of seeking out knowledge, including about himself. And he did not know the simple fact of his age. It was minor, they both agreed on that point, but if he had a chance to find out... ?

"I will get the birth dates for you and the others."

She nodded, but she did not yield. "I prefer access to the full files."

"For information other than your ages?"

"Yes."

His voice grew hard. He didn't doubt that she wanted their ages, but it was not what drove her. "For the name of your Romulan parent."

She said nothing, but her whole bearing smoldered. Outside, something flew through the path of the sun and it cast a sharp, winged shadow over her face.

"To seek revenge on him or her in the time you have left. It is exactly the reason why I gave the information to T'Pau. Did you plan to share this information with others? Is the common goal to use your last year seeking and killing your Romulan parents?"

"If the goal exists, it is our private matter and not yours."

"It is very much a matter which involves me. In getting the agreement of the rescue team that night on Hellguard, I stated you and the others were Vulcans and not the feral killers you appeared to be. My word was given. Since then, you and the others have agreed to abide by the ideals of the Federation. Your word is given as a Vulcan and a Starfleet officer. Go back on that word, and all of you dishonor mine and discredit your own."

She recoiled at the reminder of her oath, both to Starfleet and as a follower of Surak. Saavik never dealt in half-measures. When she promised herself, she promised herself fully and it went against her nature to pick and choose when she'd follow it and when it meant nothing. That struggle in her nature tightened the skin around her eyes and mouth, but she still did not yield. "It remains our decision. It is not for you or anyone else to make it for us."

"Perhaps." He wasn't getting any further with that argument. What little progress he could make with it showed in the war that was waging in the depths under her control. But he wouldn't yield anymore than her. Somehow, she had to see reason.

He paused. "Would you throw away all you have built?"

"It will be thrown away for me when I die in Phase III. I have no family. If you believe I do a dishonor with this action, at least no one will be affected by it."

"Except the people who argued on behalf of all you."

"You believe we are ungrateful for the life you and the Symmetry team gave us?"

"I state that I disapprove of any attempt to murder the Romulans involved with Hellguard. It will not bring you any peace -- or have you forgotten when you returned to Hellguard?"

The Romulan in charge of the weapons project: Saavik's attempt to murder him caused the man to commit suicide, destroying all information with him. It could have meant the end of Earth.

He pressed the point. "I see no justification on how murdering another will bring any peace for Hellguard's victims. It will not bring their katras home, and it does not return anything you and the others have lost."

The strengthening sunlight began heating the barren room. The shavokh or whatever bird had flown by earlier was of course gone. But the compound outside gathered more and more non-Vulcan passersby, trying to get done whatever they needed outside before heat made it impossible. They threw stripes of shadow in the room as they passed the window.

One such gray bar of shade passed over her face, alternately covering and revealing each side. She walked to the window and stared out.

Because she cannot face me with her argument? Do I make progress in having her see the truth?

But what she said was, "Restitution does not always have rewards. It simply must be done. Justice must be done."

"How do you rise above Thieurrull by acting with the same violence as your Romulan parent?" She kept silent. At length, he said, "I once had your acceptance."

Softly, she spoke, "Are you saying I no longer have yours?"

Is that what I meant? "You ask if I put any conditions on our friendship."

Even more softly: "I cannot ask it because I would need to know. Do we have a friendship?"

And just as delicately, he risked answering, "I would prefer to believe so."

She did not turn or even look all the way over her shoulder. She did not need to when her words and her head half-turning, even in silhouette, opened her to him. "...As would I."

"Then why can it not be so? We each abandoned it too easily before."

More earnest than when she had demanded those files, she pleaded with him with such softness to understand. "I already explained to you. You and your friendship were a gift I could not keep. I did not believe it was my right to fight for it when you supposedly ended it."

"Do not say that."

"It is the truth."

"Is it? A gift cannot be taken back by the giver. It can only be rejected by the receiver." He picked up his abandoned towel and dirty uniform, tossing them down the clothing chute with, perhaps, more force than necessary. It made him take a steadying second to center himself. If they argued or if he let old hurts dictate his actions, they'd lose each other forever.

With calm, came clarity. About everything the moment held.

It wasn't only about his taking Archernar's files, but how different they were since they had parted. How much had changed and what had stayed the same. Trying to keep her from seeking revenge was part of a larger issue.

Getting her back. Before she was lost for good.

The most important thing that had stayed the same was that he could talk to her -- if he tried. They could salvage their relationship -- or build a new one -- if they tried.

With the growing heat outside, the room's air conditioning came on. The system did not know what species occupied it. It did not have the sensors that a regular hospital room had to make that judgment. In their silence, the almost inaudible circulation became a distant irritant on the ear. He touched the panel and adjusted it for Vulcans. It silenced.

They had no need for the air conditioning anyway. The temperature in the room was pleasant. Amazing how quickly his body had returned to being chilled in the standard Earth's temperatures. The warmth in the room felt good.

He now kept his uniform jacket off for a different reason. He did not want a full uniform causing an issue of rank between them. He used the fact they had said nothing in the past moment to restart.

"If a gift can be taken back by the giver, Saavik, then I could say the same of the gift of your friendship. I quote what you said to Nogura in the beginning of the Hellguard mission. 'I speak for myself. I always have.'"

Nogura had been nonplused. It had been interesting to see.

"It was the truth," Spock continued. "Underage, you had more life experience than many and no need for an adult figure to pose as family in making decisions for you. Advice, teaching, those you asked for and heeded, but you were quite correct when you said what you did to Nogura. If for no other reason than your needing me only temporarily as a mentor, I could say my association with you was a gift I could not keep. And yet, I will try."

Her lips parted, but no words came. They did not part to speak, but from hearing what he had last said.

"I tire of your talking about a debt, Saavik." In fact, it was the worst thing she could say. "Should I constantly attribute our association to my debt to you? It began with you saving my life on Hellguard. That is one."

"That is different," she argued. "We have taken a tangent from the point of this discussion."

"We need to take this tangent. And Genesis marks the second debt that I owe you."

"There is a difference between preventing death and giving someone a life."

"The fact that you just saved me from Valeris' retribution is three."

"You are not listening!"

"No, I am not," he said sharply, and it struck him that his tone bordered on when he had confronted Valeris in the Enterprise's Sickbay. Why? Because he could not take any more betrayal? Saavik did not betray him by refusing any association unless she owed it to him, but it was wrong.

So he was sharp. "Your argument is invalid. You had need of me, I do not dispute it. I stayed your mentor and teacher. Others were found to foster you, to teach you more or at least provide a safe atmosphere while you learned. They had little hold on you, but you preferred it that way."

"Again, I seem ungrateful."

"No, self-sufficient. You are who you are. Your formative years were spent too independently to change." He stopped as a flash of memory unearthed itself. "Do you remember what you once said to Dr. McCoy when he asked how you labeled us? You said, 'I am Saavik and he is Spock. If it makes no sense to others, it suits us well.'"

Some of the soberness fell away. "I remember."

"It explains very well all you gave me. Besides my life and I do not undermine the value of that --" He hesitated, searching for words. He never intended discussing all this, but it suddenly was vital they did. "I had need of you as much as you had need of me. You gave me as much peace as anyone else. I learned to put aside my battles over my dual nature because yours were so much more considerable. You also gave me the unique world where I was Spock and I did not need to be anything more. No more Vulcan, no more human. That by itself is of immeasurable value. I always thought it equal to what I gave you."

She spoke as if she repeated something she didn't dare believe. "Valeris said you told Captain Kirk that I brought out the hybrid in you."

"That is true. Both that I said it and what it means. If we are to start again and move on in our friendship -- and I believe we will (I want us to do so.) -- we must put all debts behind us and start from here." He took a breath. "Are you willing to do so?"

No more people walked by. The sun threw the room in brilliant light.

She stared at him until she looked down and away.

I demanded too much of her too soon.

Especially with no warning. If he was lucky, they'd have another chance. If not... she was lost to him.

He turned away to leave, uttering an apology. He was out the room's door wondering if he would ever get another opportunity with her and how he could do better if he did. The door opened behind him and she was out in the hall. Steadfast. Unyielding. And this time, what she would not give up was the chance to speak with him.

"You always had a propensity to lecture."

No flowery words. No overblown compliment to get him to stay. She was still so Saavik.

He took a step closer, pleased to hear her talk about how well she knew him. "Perhaps."

Saavik said, "You might have simply asked: Are we friends or not?"

"And are we?" He found he actually was on edge, waiting.

It was the fact that she didn't even need to say Yes that gave more of an answer than if she had. Because what she said was: "We... should have had this conversation about debts before."

He took another step towards her. "Perhaps we might have if events had not-- kept us apart."

"Driven us apart." A weight fell on them. "Valeris."

"... Yes."

She turned away and the weight visibly pushed down on her. Unbelievably, she talked. Honest, open talking as he had done. Spock drew in a quiet breath. He had not pushed too hard after all.

"Arik came to me," she said in a near whisper. "Immediately prior to my coming here."

Spock tried to keep the driving curiosity out of his voice, but the image of both Arik and Jdehn talking about how much he wanted to find Saavik stayed vivid behind his eyes. "Indeed?"

"Yes. He wishes to learn a measure of the Vulcan disciplines. He seeks to control his fears and those demons that have held him in the past years. He... asked me to teach him."

Why should that be a relief? "Interesting. He spoke to me of believing he would make his past choices differently concerning learning anything of Vulcan. He did not, however, say he wished to learn any of it now."

"He believes I am a preferable teacher as I not only come from a similar background, but made the choices on my own terms. He said it first occurred to him when we spoke at the restaurant on his arrival."

Spock lifted a wry eyebrow. It was the same part of her nature that he had just referred to moments ago.

"He refers to my not taking the gen scan, of course."

"Of course. As well as other choices. You agreed, naturally."

"No. I refused him."

Both eyebrows shot up as Spock unknowingly jumped to the same conclusion Kirk had earlier. "Saavik, this is not the same as struggling for survival as an individual. Arik seeks you as a mentor. How can you refuse what was taught to you?"

He almost echoed Kirk in saying that if she could not do what was right as a Vulcan, she needed to still follow her oath as an officer. Except, she turned back, and it brought home the fact she had not faced him since bringing up the issue. Something ravaged her voice from deep where she tried to control it. "When he asked me, I might have said yes. Only he... settled into my personal space. He has a habit of it, he did it repeatedly. It is Valeris' habit."

Spock nearly swallowed. Yes, it was Valeris'. A habit of entreaty when she needed strength and drew it from nestling into his presence. Of needing reassurance that she was favored. The same reasons she had most likely done it with Saavik. The same reasons Arik most likely did.

It hadn't meant Valeris could be trusted. It hadn't meant she wouldn't hurt or betray.

Which is exactly what had crossed Saavik's mind when Arik did as Valeris once had.

Spock forced himself to speak. "It does not mean that Arik will be the same as Valeris."

"I know."

He thought he heard her whisper No more strays, but he could not be sure.

The betrayal scorched her voice more than before and it was a visible effort to control it again. "However, until I can be with him and hear words and experience actions similar to hers--"

She shook her head, slowly as if with regret. "--I am not the teacher for him. I did not discourage his intentions, however. I have promised him another teacher."

The challenge was in her eyes. No, not challenge, a simple question to the one person who understood what she was going through. Could he take on what she could not?

He could. He had the discipline and maturity not to allow himself to be so affected by what had happened. But he did not say he would. "We are illogical."

Shared, the failure was still a failure. But neither of them was alone to face it.

The line of her shoulders relaxed. "I will find Arik a teacher."

"We must do more. We must overcome our wrong behavior."

She silently agreed as her eyes moved to a spot over his shoulder. "Valeris..."

So she did not look away out of discomfort with him.

She started again. "I gave a deposition for her tribunal."

"I did as well."

"She-- she has refused to see me."

"...She has refused to see anyone. I tried as well."

Her eyes stayed on that same spot, but they changed in expression. Haunted. He didn't know why, but he thought he knew what she was thinking. It couldn't be because he knew her so well. They had been apart for so long.

But he knew because he had caught himself with the same expression. "Saavik... did something happen when you had Valeris agree not to press charges against me?"

She nodded, slowly and only once.

And now that Valeris would not speak to her, Saavik could never apologize or explain. She could not defend what she had done or admit her guilt. Whatever had happened would remain between them as the last moment they had ever shared.

"I understand," he said.

He did. His forcing the meld on Valeris would now be between them because he could never speak to her again.

Saavik knew. It was like their failure with Arik. The guilt was shared.

"Saavik," he asked. With all that had just happened, why shouldn't he? "I will not be overdramatic again. Are we friends?"

Her eyes took on a special light that spread through her expression like a glow. "I would be pleased to think so," she nearly whispered.

So would he.

He wanted to ask if she would still pursue tracking down her Romulan parent. Was it too soon? He merely had to tell the authorities what she planned to do and she'd be blocked from the information forever. But he wanted her to make the decision for herself.

As she had with Nogura.

One of Sarek's aides came up and apologized for the interruption. "T'Pau has finished reviewing the files you sent her, Spock. She is calling for an assembly of everyone involved where she will present the contents."

He found Saavik's eyes and held them.