AN: Again, I'm so sorry for the long wait last time, so instead we're gonna see if I can crank these out even faster (like before my 18 day vacation starts Thursday…). Anyway, enjoy the last of my action chapters (ARG it's so HARD to write action).

Spock watched, mildly amused, as Bones snapped and growled while he tended the minor lacerations on Chris' arms. He had observed that the Doctor might be extremely cantankerous and seriously lacking in a bed side manner, but he was an efficient and caring man, who honestly seemed to desire to heal everyone.

Blue and green eyes met his. "Spock, save me." She whispered, just low enough that the Doctor could not hear but just loud enough that Spock could. He lifted a single brow at her in his mild amusement. She glared at him for a moment before turning back to the very agitated Doctor.

"Bones, please." She begged. "I'm fine. It's a bunch of little cuts. You're making a big deal of…"

"Don't." McCoy snapped, glaring. "You have been in here twice before this in the last six hours. Last time you were here it was because you passed out and NOW you can't use your empathy!"

Spock felt cold all over, a sickly red-yellow filled his mind. Chris could not use her empathy? Why had she not told him? For a moment he was hurt and insulted before he forced himself to consider it logically. They hadn't exactly had time to discuss anything aside from how to defeat the Klingon ships.

"I told you to take it easy," continued McCoy, ranting away while his hands deftly moved over the broken and bleeding skin of Chris' arm, pulling glass from the wounds. "And what do you do? You get yourself thrown into Chekov's console and shatter the glass! That was not taking it EASY!"

As Chris shot him a helpless, begging look he took it upon himself to stop the argument. "Doctor." He interjected smoothly. "She was doing what she could to prevent us all from being killed. I do believe that her current state is greatly better than her state would have been were we all killed."

Grey-blue eyes leveled at him and the Doctor's scowl increased, further darkening the haggered face. "You shut your trap, you green-blooded hobgoblin!" He snapped. "I'll deal with you once I'm through with her." Spock nearly winced at the reminder of his newest injury. His hands ached from the glass that had been embedded in them, his blood sluggishly oozing from the lacerations.

A hypospray was waved violently in his direction from the doctor. "And don't think I'll be as gentle on you as I am Chris. I ain't fond of you, damn it, so I'm not going to be nice."

Chris winced at the threat Bones threw at Spock. She knew his hands were much more sensitive than her arms and that he much be really hurting, though she couldn't feel it.

"Bones, you're busy." She said quickly, ignoring his darkly muttered reply. "Why don't you finish up with me and release me to rest in my rooms. Spock will accompany me and I can clean out his hands there." So I can be more gentle, she thought but didn't dare say. "You only took time away from the others because you don't trust me to anyone else."

He huffed, grey-blue eyes focused on her face and she could see him thinking. He'd never admit that he was a little over-protective of her because he cared for her as a friend (same as Jim), but he wasn't stupid and he had to know that she knew. Slowly he nodded and set a small medi-kit on the bed beside her. "You can tend him then, I'm too busy to deal with his minor wounds anyway."

He pulled the last shard of glass from her arm and ran the medical tool over her bloody arm. It didn't remove the tacky, emerald mess that her blood had made, but the pain stopped and she knew the injuries were healed.

"Thanks Bones." She said before pressing a kiss to his scruffy cheek. "You're my hero." She half teased.

He rolled his eyes, "Get out of here, go on." He motioned for the door before locking her with his hardest, firmest look. "Bed rest until we return to Vulcan II, do you understand? You're off duty, as you should have been forty minutes ago."

She just nodded mutely, knowing better than to argue with him. She followed Spock as he led her to her rooms. His face was nearly completely Vulcan blank, telling her he was obviously in great pain.

When they entered her rooms she took his elbow and forced him to sit. "Are you in pain?" She asked softly, hating that she couldn't FEEL it. "Don't lie to me."

He nodded briskly. "My hands are… very tender." He admitted. She rolled her eyes, had the replicator make a bowl of hot water, fetched a clean cloth and a pair of tweezers. She motioned he place his hand on the table between them. As he did he spoke softly. "Are you incapable of sensing my emotions right now?"

She scowled but nodded, forcing herself to concentrate on his hands. After wiping most of the blood away with the warm water and the cloth, she pulled the first shard from his palm. He winced, actually making a soft noise in the back of his throat. She bit back her surprise… his hands were VERY sensitive, much, much more so than her own.

"Do you want a pain killer?" She asked gently, brushing a finger tip gently across his bare wrist in an attempt to soothe the pain she caused.

Spock twitched a second time, but not from pain. Her finger caressing the very tender flesh of his wrist sent a bolt of heat through him, white hot but dark and powerful. "No, I wish to be able to perceive if there is any glass remaining in my hands before we close the wounds." He said softly, a bit too quickly.

She didn't seem to notice his discomfort and he realized how very human she was without her empathy. He often forgot that she was not like him, half-Vulcan, that she did not know Vulcan Culture. She simply relied on the emotions of others to guide her in her actions.

He, to his immense shame, whimpered a second time when she gently plucked glass from his palm. "Sorry." She murmured gently, her free hand slid under his, her palm against the back of his hand and one finger wrapping around to half caress, half hold his wrist.

He fell, helpless to stop himself, into her mind and realized, with a shock, that she knew he was there.

Hello she greeted him mentally and he could see her lips quirk into a smile. I'm getting better at this, huh? She teased. He heard the 'plink' of glass against metal and realized she had pulled a third shard from his hand. He had hardly felt it.

Indeed. He answered, expecting her to be surprised at his ability to respond. She was not. You have been seeing my Older self. He mused, drawing the only logical conclusion from her increased prowess. The thought made him ache with deep and sickly green jealousy and orange malcontent. He was pleased that she couldn't feel the emotions, they were private, for once (he was usually more than alright with her sensing his emotions).

I asked for a few lessons. She admitted.

What is it he said to make you uncomfortable with me? He asked.

He wasn't sure what he'd expected but the flash of his elder self in her mind and the echo of his words, "Our Daughter…" and "My T'hy'la" were defiantly NOT it. He felt her panic and shame at letting something slip past her control.

Apparently, she admitted slowly, in his universe, he and the other me were lovers. But this universe is different. She continued. We're obviously not lovers, and I don't think we could ever be. But… it was awkward, feeling your emotions after hearing what he let slip… after feeling his emotions.

They are like mine. Spock concluded, feeling angry at the very thought that the older Vulcan's feeling for her would make her uncomfortable with him.

Yes. With the two of you in a room together I couldn't distinguish which were yours and which were his except by direction and simple proximity.

The warm wash cloth stroked over his bruised hand and he hissed, pulled from her mind. "Sorry." She murmured again, her fingers stroking his skin. "Any glass left in that hand?"

"No." He murmured, not wanting to speak for fear of reacting to the new information. "You did well."

She smiled and passed the bio-medical tool over his flesh, knitting it back together and ending the pain. "I'm much more gentle than Bones, right?" She teased.

He nodded slightly, falling away from his confusing and troubling emotions and back into the contented serenity that being near her and being her friend usually offered. "Indeed. I have come to believe he derives pleasure from causing me pain."

She laughed and with that sound, for now at least, his world became right again. The danger had passed, he and his friend were safe, and she was relaxed with him once again.

It had taken less than five minutes at maximum warp for the Enterprise to get to the trap, it took over eight hours to return to Vulcan II after over two hours of the engineering crew working all out to fix the engines as best as they could.

Chris spent the better part of the first hour stuck in the Sick Bay, the better part of the second hour cleaning up Spock's tender hands and talking with him, and the entire remainder of the trip zonked out on her bed, her music playing rather loudly. In fact she hadn't realized how tired she actually was until she closed her eyes.

She was so deeply asleep that she didn't notice when there was a series of loud raps on her door and then the chime sounded to indicate it had been opened. She slept on as the intruder walked into her rooms and perched on her pallet.

Chris woke slowly, her mind rising from the depths of sleep as she looked up at the man who woke her. "Jim?" She asked, groggily. She could feel the soft rush of green friendship, the gentle blue caress of affection, the golden tickle of amusement.

"Hey sleepy head." Jim murmured, brushing her mussed blond locks from her face. "I was worried about you." He hesitated and she felt a trickle of embarrassment. With a jolt she realized that the emotions were HIS, not hers. With a comfortable sigh she relaxed, overjoyed and at peace because her empathy was back. "And I need to apologize, for snapping at you on the bridge."

Chris smiled. "No biggie, Jim. You were tense, we didn't exactly explain it to you. And I'm okay." She showed him her blemish free arms. "See, Bones made sure I was right as rain."

Jim smiled. "Good. So you know we're finally back at Vulcan II, and the older Spock is asking for you."

Chris sighed and rolled over, burrowing her head in a pillow, totally unaware that Spock (her Spock) was waiting by the door. "I am so not up for that old geezer and his mind games. You wanna tell him I'm alive and will come play with him tomorrow?"

Jim laughed softly and she felt him stand. "Sure thing Chrissy. I'll tell him to expect you at 10 Hundred hours?"

She nodded into her pillow, already half asleep.

Chris smiled when she saw the wizened face of Spock's older self. His eyes twinkled at her but there was an underlying darkness that deeply bothered her. She walked to his side and he fell into step with her.

"I'm sorry about last night." She said softly in Vulcan, worrying if the darkness in his eyes was because of her. She would have opened up her empathy but it was a little over sensitive since she woke up.

His hand twisted in a dismissive motion. "I understand that you were tired, Chris." He replied in the same language. "You did not offend me. I was simply worried. Jim assured me you were quite well."

She nodded and flashed him her arms. "Good as new, and no scars too." The twinkle increased slightly but did not banish the dark. They walked to his house in silence but once safely there she turned on him, determined to discover what was bothering him. "What is wrong? You are upset."

"My younger counterpart visited me earlier." He said smoothly, it that very Vulcan tone that she knew meant he was upset. "He was… less than pleased that I have been allowing little things to slip about my Universe. He explained that you were hesitant to feel his emotions."

Chris frowned. "I just… I don't like feeling his friendship for me but nothing else when I care for him more than that. You know? He was right though, I was being foolish. And it wont happen again."

The twinkle returned. "I do not doubt that. You often do not need telling twice."

She sank gracefully onto the pillow he indicated. "I'm like that." She quipped, brushing off the compliment that she knew was in the statement. "So what's today about anyway? I thought it was up to me to simply practice now."

He sank onto the pillow beside her. "It is. I had an offer for you." Chris nodded, intrigued. "Your gift for Spock, for Christmas, is inspired and heartfelt, but I wondered if I could give you something more to give him."

Chris felt her curiosity peak. What could he give her to give her Spock? "What did you have in mind?"

"I have many memories of my mother that Spock will never be allowed to make. I may give them to you, to hold onto, until Christmas, when you may give them to him." Was the simple reply.

Chris felt herself get a little giddy. Giving Spock such a gift… it would be a wonderful thing to offer him. But… how would she… "It would require a Mind Meld." She said, knowing it was the only possible means of transferring memory from one person to another.

The older Spock nodded. "Yes. I am aware of your… hesitation with melding with me, however…"

"No." Chris said, cutting him off gently. "No, I don't have any hesitations. I trust you Spock. And for him… Even if I didn't trust you, I'd still say yes." She smiled at him. "Besides, I miss Amanda too."

The older man nodded. "Yes, that I can understand. My Chris and my Mother were very close. I can imagine that you would also be close to this Amanda." His strong hand brushed her face, thumb just under her left eye, pointer finger just above said eye, and the other three fingers curling along her temple and cheek. She could feel the intense heat and pressure of his finger tips though they touched her with the gentleness of a butterflies kiss. Already she felt the buzz in her mind and the gentle intrusion.

"My mind to your mind," he said softly, his voice deep and gravelly, "My thoughts to your thoughts."

His mind was dark and warm to her, there was no light but she could 'see'. It was completely organized, there was a place for everything. Unlike her mind, which was an open expanse of tangled memories, blending and leading from one to another; Spock's mind was compartmentalized, as if he had sectioned off rooms in his mind and then built file cabinets in the walls of each room. Everything was filed and stored in a specific, logical place.

Thank you. Said the warm, older voice in her mind. Obviously having logical order to his mind was a good thing. This way, he encouraged, guiding her to a specific 'room'.

She was overwhelmed by memories, thoughts, images, sounds, emotions… emotions as powerful as her own and then some, strong enough to drown her had he not kept them at bay. This is every memory I have of Amanda. He said softly. I shall give them to you. It shall not hurt you.

She had the strangest sense that something ALIVE moved in her head for a few moments. But the feeling settled and she found herself looking inward, as opposed to in his mind. Do you see it? He asked her.

She wasn't quite sure how she could NOT see it. The memories were, for lack of a better way to describe it, in a locked trunk in her mind, in a quiet corner where her memories of Amanda floated and tangled. Yes. She assured her companion. I can lead Spock to this, if he does not see it himself.

Good he said softly before withdrawing his mind from hers slowly. While I am sure it does not feel it this has taken quite some time. We must call this to an end. Chris was struck by the overwhelming disappointment, she wanted him to stay… to stay longer. As she'd imagined… it was not unpleasant to share her mind with someone. There was a deep mental laugh. And I do not wish to stop either, T'hy'la, but we must.

And then she was alone in her own mind and his hand was in his lap. She swayed slightly before catching herself. "Woah." She said, unintelligently.

There was a dry, amused chuckle, nearly silent, from her partner. "Indeed." He took her hand in his. "I must thank you. I had not realized quite how much I missed my Mate until I melded with you. Nor how very different from her you really are."

Chris smiled. "Hopefully not in bad way." She only half-teased.

He stood but shook his head. "Indeed, no; neither better nor worse, simply different. As I am different from my younger self." He paused for a moment and she could see his mind whirling, considering the differences… "Perhaps that is a good thing, though. That you are both different. If you were My Chris I doubt you would fit him as well as you do." Chris blushed and shook her head silently, not knowing what to say. "I shall make us tea." He said softly, turning to walk into his kitchen area.

"All Enterprise crew, return to the ship!" Roared her com, the scared voice of a nameless ensign on the other end. "Klingons have managed to stowaway on board and are attacking!"

Chris leapt to her feet and offered the older Spock an apologetic and nervous smile. "Next time. Apparently we have a bug problem on board." She turned and practically ran from the house, smacking her com as she did. "Chris to Enterprise, beam me up."

The swirling lights grabbed her and she was weightless for a second. When she materialized the room was dark and the red-alert light pulsed. She dashed forward and grabbed the Ensign's arm, sending him calm. "Am I the last planet side?" He nodded dumbly, eyes wide. "Be a good lad, shut down all transporters, no one gets off this ship." He looked helplessly panicked and her gift just wasn't enough. She shook him, forcing his attention back on herself. "Do you understand me Engisn?"

He shook his head and she sighed, annoyed, and shoved him out of his chair. "Chekov, my Russian genius, tell me you can hear me!" She roared on a com to the bridge.

"Chris!" Jim exclaimed while Chekov said, "Yes Kris! I am here. What is it you need?"

Chris sighed in relief. "You, my Russian, are going to talk me through shutting down the transporters."

"One moment!" Jim said sharply. "Chris, where are you?"

"Transporter room one, on deck six."

She heard muffled cussing. "Is Spock there?" Jim sounded… almost hopeful and very afraid.

Her blood ran cold. "No, what happened?"

"He went to come get you. We lost contact. The Klingons are on Decks three through five, they want to tae the bridge." Jim explained gently. "We told him not to go, he ignored me, for once."

Her hands shook and for a moment she couldn't breathe for fear. She had to know… no matter how overly-sensitive her empathy was… She opened up all her channels to Spock, every mental and emotional link she had made with him over the years. For a moment she felt absolutely nothing from where he should be in her mind…

AN: Okay, so I was going to let this be one chapter because I doubt the next bit will be very long… but I couldn't help my self. CLIFFIE!!!! Is Spock still alive? Is he terribly injured? Will the Enterprise crew survive this terrible turn of events?!

Guess what, I DON'T KNOW! *Evil cackle* Okay, okay, I DO know. But you don't!!! Mwhahaha MWHAHAHA

Remember! Review = preview!