Title: Home (Multichapter fic with 35 parts)

Beta: Lissaea at Livejournal

Warnings, Themes and Tropes, etc.: bondage, torture, prostitution, explicit sex, drug use

Summary: The Vulcans need a new home planet, so the Enterprise and her crew set out to find one for them.

"They'd come all the way for this? Which mad astronomer had sent them out here? Whose twisted idea had it been?"

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or any of its characters.

Author's note: Sorry I've not been updating as frequently as before, but I just accepted a position on the other side of the world, and organising plane tickets, accommodation and health insurance etc is all taking up a lot of my time. Never mind the fact that I don't have very long to learn another language XD.

– Home-Part 19 of 35 –

Late that night, Spock came by Jim's quarters. Jim was getting ready for bed; he'd only just finished reading the reports on the starbase.

"Come through," he called from his sleeping area.

His back to the door, he quickly he put on a nightshirt. They needed to talk seriously about their relationship, it was something they'd both put off for far too long—possibly too long. It felt like it was the end, but it couldn't be, he told himself, as he'd been telling himself for the past twenty four hours; there was no good, logical reason why Spock would suddenly end this.

What he felt for Spock was clearly love, the real kind this time; he just had to tell Spock and ... then they could talk about all the other issues. Spock would stay the night in his quarters, and the maybe Jim would sometimes go to his. They'd wake up together in the morning, they'd-the mental image of Spock cuddling with him in bed flashed in front of his mind's eye -ok, scratch that, he can't imagine Vulcans being cuddly, but they'd have breakfast together. He'd make fun of the weird things Vulcans described as edible, while Spock would call him illogical for only eating things he enjoyed instead of foodstuffs that had the right balance of nutrients.

The sound of Spock's footsteps let him know that Spock had stepped past the partition. Please don't end this, Spock, he thought before turning around.

"Spock." A nervous smile twisted Jim's lips.

Maybe, Jim continued his thoughts, if only they could sort this out, then one day down the line Spock would tell him he loved him.

Jim's eyes took in Spock's precise haircut, his face … so handsome with those dark eyes and devilish eyebrows … and his nose; Jim just loved Spock's nose in every single way. He could already feel his body becoming agitated by the physical distance between them. That's not how it's meant to be, his muscles seemed to scream at him, get close to him, touch him and let him touch you. Obeying them, he walked away from his wardrobe and up to Spock who'd planted himself just past the threshold to his sleeping area.

Spock didn't move towards him; he stayed rooted to the floor, head tall, hands hidden behind his back. Jim didn't take the last step that would've taken him right up close to Spock. His heart started beating faster, and it was hurting. The feeling that Spock might not care about their relationship the same way he did was clawing at his left ventricle and hammering at his right chamber.

He needed some kind of sign from Spock-that what he knew deep down to be true was wrong … that Spock hadn't made up his mind already. He'd tried desperately to convince himself that it wasn't going to happen, that he'd not screwed things up with the only person he'd ever fallen in love with, that they'd be able to talk this over reasonably. But the evidence was staring him right in the face now and he couldn't escape it.

But … hope, he had to have hope, rather than jumping to conclusions. He reached out to touch the pale face. Spock allowed it—Jim breathed out, but it didn't soothe his heart.

"Jim. I must inform you that I have thought long over what you said yesterday."

The voice was steady, but somewhere Jim thought, in the deeper tones of his rich voice, he heard a certain raw quality he'd not heard there in a long time. He wanted to run away, he didn't want to hear those next words, but he forced himself to stay still.

"I would prefer to return our relationship to a purely platonic one."

It was as if Spock had poured a bucket of ice water over him, drowning all hope. The way Spock looked at him, the way he always kissed him—soft and yet passionate at the same time … .

He didn't raise his voice, he was too confused, he must have misunderstood Spock. "So what? You don't care about me at all? This … it meant nothing to you?"

"I am your friend and I always will be." As Spock spoke, the coldness melted out of his eyes and they looked at Jim with a warm intensity. He placed his hand over Jim's and squeezed it firmly.

Jim looked away, he didn't want Spock to see the pain he knew would be so visible in his eyes. He should've listened to his intuition from day one. Spock cared about him, yes, but the Vulcan had never opened himself up to this as much as he had. And now that Jim had fallen in love with him … he had this feeling, this simple emotion, which the alien couldn't return; or didn't want to.

Cold fingertips brushed over Jim's index and middle finger. Jim blinked. Then Spock was leaning in for a kiss; for one last kiss. This was all so wrong, this couldn't be real. When their lips met it was as if it all wasn't happening—his world was still intact and Spock wasn't breaking up with him.

And then it was all over.

Jim looked down at his feet as Spock walked out of his quarters and the door closed behind him.

Jim walked numbly towards sickbay. It had been almost a week; shouldn't he at least be feeling a bit better? He was glad he'd not had to share the bridge with Spock since their break-up. Bones had saved him from that; once he'd examined Spock, he'd immediately cleared his first officer to work with all the stuff that had been brought up from Saketh—since then Spock had shut himself away in a lab with the carved stones from the Katric ark.

Yeah, good old Bones. They could be bitter together-he'd understand. When he entered sickbay he didn't look up until he'd already taken more than ten paces into the room. He could hear the doctor's voice. Then he looked up … and stopped. He was standing only a couple of beds down from where Spock was lying, listening to Bones.

"Are you sure you feel alright?" Bones said, waving his tricorder over his patient.

"I assure you, Doctor, there is nothing you can do for me."

Spock's eyes met Jim's, then and he got down off the bed. "If that is all, I have work to attend to in preparation for our imminent arrival at the spacestation."

Bones scowled but let him go; Jim stared after him as he walked past. Spock was still the same person, he looked no different and yet … he was; in Jim's mind anyway. Bones stepped closer.

"That Vulcan is driving me mad. He's the most difficult patient I've ever had to deal with, and I've had to deal with you, so that's saying something."

Jim clenched his jaw. "How is he?"

"You mean apart from the mint green water in his veins? Fine, I'm sure! If I'm to believe him."

"What does that mean?"

Bones threw his hands up in the air. "I don't know! I've been monitoring him all week and the readings started out okay, but they've been getting stranger by the day … but nothing that would indicate he's necessarily ill. I'll have to look over them again. The other tests, well, I'm still waiting for the results."

Jim frowned. "I was hoping to have him on my away team."

Bones sighed. "I guess I can't demand he stays behind. But, just for the record, he's one hell of an uncooperative patient. Keep an eye on your friend for me, okay?" Bones smiled thinly.

The word 'friend' had Jim blinking for a moment; then he managed a flat smile in return. He didn't feel like talking to Bones all of a sudden-he had work to do anyway, so he made his excuses.

Spacestation Luria II was busy; Federation vessels, both fleet and private, lay in dock there next to Antedean, Rigelian and Lysian ships. No one batted an eyelid at the arrival of the Enterprise. The station was grimy, a far cry from the clean federation operated bases. Jim walked with Scotty, Chekov, Spock and the rest of his away team through the connection tunnel onto the station; all of them were wearing civilian clothing.

"Mr Scott, you know what to do," he said once they'd exited the tunnel.

"Ay, sir."

Jim nodded and then addressed the ten man strong away team. "What we need to know is who came to Saketh and attacked us. We must find out if pirate activity near Saketh is regular-if a new colony would be in danger."

They split the group up into equal number and then Scotty set off with his half. "Lads, let's get going! Come on, we dinnae have all day!"

That left Jim with Spock, Chekov and Ensigns Howard and Li.

"Now … while we'll start off slow, our aim is to find out more than a few rumors can tell us about the situation—that might mean parting with some hard cash. So, we'll need that and we'll also need to get out of these clothes we're wearing, since they're the height of Federation fashion—well, mine are, I'm not too sure about the Commander's … ." He put on a cocky grin, but he really wasn't feeling it. "We want to look a bit rougher, so … let's go shopping."

Once they'd set off he walked in step next to Spock. "Mr Spock, I'm going to have to ask you to hide that you're Vulcan—you'll have to pretend to be Romulan."

It wasn't something Spock would have to put any effort into really. They were closer to Romulan than Federation territory now and with so few Vulcans left he'd really have to point out the fact that he was Vulcan, by using the word 'logical' for instance, for anyone to jump to that conclusion—or so Jim hoped anyway. Starfleet didn't have a clue what Vulcan's looked like beyond Nero; it was the Vulcan intelligence agency that had held most of the files on Romulans.

Spock nodded once. Jim smiled and hurried on ahead of Spock, putting himself in the lead once more. He was relieved that Spock was not acting any differently towards him than usual-at least on duty. They hadn't talked at all; how was this situation going to affect their friendship? Jim focused on the sound of Spock's footfall just behind his … at the familiar sound he felt sliver of relief loosen the tension in his shoulders.

They headed to the main deck. When they arrived there Jim looked over his shoulder and, sure enough, Spock was standing right behind him. He turned his head forward again quickly.

The main deck of the station was very large. Tall, black metal pillars held up the high, copper-colored ceiling, while shops lined a promenade below, built in a style reminiscent of Andor Prime's capital city. Jim assumed the station had been extended, refurbished and repaired whenever there had been resources available; Andorian style had been in vogue almost fifty years ago and is seemed that since then the station's fortunes had taken a turn for the worse as none of the newer looking structures on the main deck where anywhere near as opulent. Jim wondered at that as the station seemed very busy now.

"Wait," Jim said. "That bar looks particularly seedy."

He pointed at one of the newest, but also most shoddily erected, structures. "We should go there first."

"Are you certain that is a bar?" Spock asked.

"Believe me, the lack of any signs outside is mark of true seediness. They probably don't even have glasses. I say we all go in there as if we're naïve tourist 'looking for adventure'."

Spock raised an eyebrow but the others only nodded.

"If that doesn't work of course," he said, "then we'll just have to improvise."

Jim had been right. Most of the clientele were drinking out of bottles; the occasional alien was using a badly stained or chipped earthenware mug. There were industrial canisters on a shelf behind a small table at which the owner sat. Everyone was eyeing them up.

Jim banged his fist down on the owner's table.

"What do you people want?" The man looked at him suspiciously. "We're closed."

"Doesn't look closed to me."

"Private party, can't you tell?"

"No."

"Get out."

Jim turned to the others and shrugged slightly. Then he reached over the table and pulled the man up by his collar. The bar guests all quickly scrambled out, leaving them alone with the owner.

"We're just friendly tourists," Jim said, "who're looking for a bit of an adventure. Also, I hear there's a lot of money to be made catching pirates."

"You don't look like bounty hunters," he grumbled.

"Don't you worry who we are," Jim said, letting go of him. "Tell me all the news on the pirate front. Where do they spend their loot, where might we catch some?"

"I don't know what they told you, but this spacestation is poor. They won't pay you much for catching the pirates."

Jim raised his eyebrows. "They attack this station? I was under the impression that most stations this size were too large to be attacked by pirates."

The man snorted.

"Tell me more," Jim pressed.

The man rolled his eyes and poured himself a drink. The guy had obviously decided that Jim did fit the 'stupid tourist' bill after all—and that was fine by Jim as long as the man kept talking.

Spock stepped out of Jim's shadow to stand next to him. "Keep talking."

The guy almost choked on his drink. "Um … they say, just rumors mind you, … they say that they destroyed a Romulan ship a month ago. The pirates are lead by Kroth. A Klingon. Must have fallen out with the Empire. He united the pirates, got them organized and manages to pull off successful raids on large stations like this. Calls himself Vod'pah—pirate king.

He waited for Spock to react, but when he didn't, he continued quickly. "They aren't scared of attacking Federation ships either. I'm lucky I could set up my bar here—they've hired some mercenaries to defend this place at least."

"See that wasn't so hard after all," Jim said, flashing him a wide grin. "Oh... and do you know where we might exchange Federation credits for hard cash?"

The man's eyes kept flicking towards Spock. "There's a store called P.L.K. on the main deck. The vendor there deals in currency."

Jim gave him a mock salute. As they left the bar, Spock turned to Jim and said, "If those rumors are true, then the pirates present a substantial threat to a colony on Saketh."

Klingons-they just had to ruin everything, didn't they?