Unfinished Business
Chapter 57 : Another Cabin
August 2279
It had been two and a half years since they had been able to find the time to spend in a cabin, by a lake. There had been several trips to Vulcan, for short visits, to see how Saavik was growing, and to strengthen the developing bond between father and son, but not enough more for themselves. It was past time. And so he searched along the path that the Enterprise would take, and found a planet near enough, that had woods, and hills, and lakes, and found a cabin and reserved it. When he told her what he had done, she showered him with kisses, and fondled his ears, until he growled at her, and lifted her up, and carried her to the bed.
They used a shuttle to reach the planet where they would stay, retaining it for the trip back. There were enough on the Enterprise that they could keep one for a week without it being a problem. They landed just outside the town, and walked in to retrieve the keys they needed, and the coordinates. And then they were airborne again, for a short while, until they settled down beside another small cabin, set near the shores of a small lake, with low rolling hills all around, and woods.
They spent their days hiking through the woods, talking quietly to one another, speaking of things that that hurt them in the past, laying all the ghosts to rest once and for all. They were comfortable with each other again now, closer even than before the problems had arisen. They understood each other better, more deeply. They did not try to hide anything from one another now, telling the other if an action confused or hurt, seeking to keep the communication between them always open and free.
In the evenings they sat near the shore, watching the colors from the sunset reflected in the waters of the lake, streaking it so that it appeared to have flames beneath the surface. And as she leaned against him, his hand would rise, and his fingers touch her face, and they would sink ever deeper into their bond, blended into one, until he rose and carried her into the cabin, to the bed, or the rug before the fireplace, where they would join their bodies as well as their minds. They shared their ecstasy, feeling what the other felt, knowing where to touch, to taste, how and when to move to the next pleasure, to prolong and extend the ecstasy, soaring together into the white hot light.
There would be no more mistakes. They knew each other too well now. They would not fail each other again. She would be there when he needed her, and he would be strong for her, protecting her, always. It was a surety that they knew, deep within, and did not question.
With each day, they became calmer, more at peace with themselves and with each other. And when they must pack and return, it was not with sorrow, but with joy, that they had had this time, and this final touch of healing, to make them strong, and whole, and thoroughly one.
Back on the ship, McCoy looked at them, and knew without a doubt that they were both finally healed. They did not need to say a single word to him, the look of them was all it took. Kirk watched, with confusion, not quite understanding the change in them, small and yet important. Whatever it was, he wished more of his crew had that feel to them, as though nothing could or would touch them with harm again in their lives. He could use that, work with that, if his crew all had it. When he asked McCoy, the doctor just shook his head and told him to forget it. But it was not something that one could forget easily. He wished he could have it for himself, but had no idea how it was procured.