Parenthood is the passing of a baton, followed by a lifelong disagreement as to who dropped it. ~Robert Brault

Jim, Leonard, and Willie were invited to take up temporary residence in the guest suites of the Palace but graciously declined, explaining that if they were put up with the Palace workers, less attention would be brought to them. The Minister wanted to protest but understood their reasoning. They were escorted by one of the Palace workers to the lower levels, given a room of their own with 2 bunk beds.

"Thank you," Jim said in Russian, the worker leaving after a nod. "Well."

"Yeah," Leonard said, looking at the bunk beds. "I'll take the top."

"All right," Jim agreed. "Willie?"

"Doesn't much matter. I'll sleep on the bottom over here," he said, sitting on the lower bunk across from Jim and Leonard. "I would have expected you to be in the upper, Jim."

"I would except that I sometimes sleep walk," Jim admitted, peeling off the top layer of clothes. When he was down to tee shirt and shorts, he lay on the bottom bunk, arranging the down comforter.

"Which means he'd step on my face," Bones added, also striping down to the essentials before climbing into the upper bunk.

"No good," Willie agreed. "You'll wake me if I sleep too long?"

"Of course," Bones agreed.

It wasn't long until all three of them were sound asleep, warm and comfortable in their borrowed beds.

~o0o~

"Spock," Sarek said when Spock entered the house, giving his heavy coat to J'Zarh. "Come. We will talk."

Spock automatically followed his father into his study, a serious room that inhibited any lightness from the occupants. Spock briefly wondered where Amanda was but if Sarek did not volunteer the information, Spock would have to do without it. He made sure his face remained utterly impassive as Sarek closed the heavy wooden door, going over to sit in his black leather armchair. Spock sat in the smaller upholstered chair, using all of his reserve of calm not to fidget under Sarek's intense scrutiny.

"Your mother tells me that you are interested in Jim Kirk on a personal level."

"I was," Spock responded, careful to make sure it did not sound as though he was contradicting, or worse, correcting his father.

Sarek considered those two words briefly, one eyebrow lifting in inquiry. "What occurred that altered your incipient interest?"

"Factors that do not add up," Spock said.

"Factors," Sarek repeated. He wanted additional information. That much was clear. Spock had no desire to tell him anything more but…no one denied Sarek, least of all his son.

"He has a number of prominent scars on his body. Scars which indicate severe injuries including bullet wounds. When I asked about them, he said he could not discuss them. On Friday night he left after receiving a phone call at 3:30 in the morning. He could not give me any details concerning the emergency which caused him and Dr. McCoy to depart suddenly."

"Dr. McCoy left as well," Sarek said. Not asked. As it was not a question, Spock did not answer. "From your research, I understand that you believe this to be related to the Uhuras."

"They appear entwined in it," Spock agreed.

"Based on what?"

"Observation. Connections between Kirk, McCoy, Pike, and Tahla Uhura."

Sarek continued to study his son who did an admirable job of remaining completely impassive under the scrutiny. "Tahla Uhura is the feihan of the Consortium in North America."

Leader of the North American…what? "The Consortium?" Spock asked.

Sarek looked a little discomfited by the question. Was that a brief flicker of guilt across Sarek's face? "Perhaps I have erred in keeping you removed from the inner workings of the Clan."

"In what way?" Spock asked, surprised that his father would ever admit to making a mistake. Especially where he was concerned.

"For more years than I have been alive, the Clan watched…monitored the Consortium. On occasion, we had no choice but to intervene. More often, we made certain they did not step out of the bounds of decorum."

Spock barely suppressed a sigh. His father was talking in riddles. And it was making Spock's head hurt. Hurt as much as his heart did. "I do not understand."

"The Consortium was established by the ork'ik'a not many years after first contact. Their edict was to observe the interactions between Humans and Vulcans. If there had been a conflict which could have devolved into war, they were to intervene.

"That original mandate is no longer in effect. 53.65 years ago, the Consortium broke away from the Vulcan High Council. Those in authority within the Consortium no longer wished to be dictated to by the Vulcans. The Vulcans had few regrets in agreeing. They had corrupted their original purpose. They already had strayed so far by the time they broke away that they allowed only Human members. It was then that the High Council appointed the Clan as official observers." Sarek paused, studying his son who remained impassive, silent, intently listening. "The Consortium is a very powerful and efficacious organization which operates beyond the reach of any law enforcement agency."

"Operates what?" Spock asked. He felt sure he was not going to like the answer.

"Among other services they provide, they employ assassins. Jim Kirk is the top of their echelon."

Spock felt the blood drain from his face. Of all the things he would have guessed that his father was going to tell him, this was would have been the last. "An assassin," Spock whispered.

"Yes," Sarek confirmed. "He is also as he appears. He is a novelist and a linguist. It is his skill at languages that prompted the Consortium to recruit him. That his mother was a member was a secondary reason."

"Winona?" Spock asked breathlessly.

"She filled many roles. Assassin was a minor aspect."

"Jim Kirk…kills people."

"That is the definition of assassin," Sarek said.

"Jim cannot be an assassin," Spock said. But even as he tried to deny his father's words, he knew they were true. It all added up – the mysterious disappearances, the scars, the 3:30 a.m. phone call, all the people in his house. "Dr. McCoy?"

"He is a member. He prefers to avoid taking a life when it is possible. He will kill if he is required to do so."

"Where is Jim now? Is he preparing to take another life?" Spock asked.

"I do not know where Jim Kirk is," Sarek said, shaking his head once. "We do not have access to their every action. The Clan's influence has diminished steadily over the past 11.9 years."

"Why is that?" Spock asked, using the time it took Sarek to answer to gather his thoughts.

"When Tahla Uhura became the feihan she demanded that we no longer intrude in the affairs of the Consortium."

"She demanded?" Spock repeated, knowing there was more to it than Sarek was admitting.

"Threatened," Sarek reluctantly admitted. "In the time since, the Clan has had virtually no official contact with the Consortium."

"Do you suppose Kirk knows this history?"

"It is doubtful. Tahla and I have never made the rupture public. The Clan was very circumspect in monitoring the Consortium. When we were no longer actively doing so, few would have noticed any alteration."

"Tahla knows that Kirk and I were beginning to form a relationship of a personal nature," Spock said, an implied question.

"She would not object. She is aware that you are in no way involved in the negligible monitoring which still occurs. I am quite certain that if it were up to her, she would have chosen that he become involved with someone not of the our Clan. However, as it is, she will not interfere."

"You seem certain," Spock said, a growing suspicion from Sarek's tone.

"We spoke. Early this morning," Sarek acknowledged.

"Did you discuss Kirk?"

"Only in connection with you and Kirk," Sarek said. "She blesses your relationship, should it evolve into more."

"And if she did not?"

"He would break it off. If she demanded it. Otherwise he would have to leave the Consortium."

"I do not know that I can be intimately involved with someone who takes a life on the order of another," Spock said, almost repulsed by the very idea of it.

"The Consortium does not intentionally take innocent lives," Sarek said reluctantly. "You know of the death of Xiawoun of Hong Kong."

"Yes. It was in all the papers. On all the newscasts."

"It was the work of the Consortium. They saved many lives by eliminating him."

"Yes," Spock said. "Jim disappeared the day after Xiawoun died."

"He did not pull the trigger. There was a problem with the one who did. Kirk was responsible for the rescue."

"Indeed," Spock said, considering all that his father had said. It definitely explained some of the things about Jim he could not sort out. "Do you talk with Tahla often?"

"There is no consistency. We talk weekly, monthly, less often depending on the need."

"The need?" Spock asked. Was Sarek a part of it in some yet undefined way?

"She is a woman of her own mind. She also readily acknowledges that should the Vulcan High Council determine that the Consortium is posing a danger, the Council would intervene mostly forcefully."

"You are the conduit between the Council and the Consortium," Spock said in realization. That his father did not deny it was proof enough. "Amanda knows?"

"She does. She has no involvement outside her knowledge."

Spock absorbed all that Sarek had told him, his head buzzing with the information. He was not sure he could absorb all that his father had said, so unexpected was what he had revealed. "Will the time come when I am the liaison between the Consortium and the Council?" Spock finally asked.

Sarek shook his head at that. "I refused to allow you to be named my successor. I do not wish for the connection to remain through our lineage. When I am no longer tersaya another will be chosen."

"Do you believe I am incapable of adequately performing as tersaya?" Spock asked. He did not want the position. He also did not want his father to get away with insulting him if he could stop it.

"I know that you are in fact the best choice to succeed me as tersaya. I requested another be chosen in order to spare you the complications inherent in the position. That you are considering entering a relationship with a member of Consortium makes it more imperative that another be chosen."

"Indeed," Spock said. He felt his father's eyes on his face as he considered all that he had learned. He could hardly fathom the information. "Does Kirk know of your position?"

"He does not. Most of those in the Consortium are aware that the High Council retains some degree of observation but not by whom. Christopher Pike is aware of my role but does not discuss it with any others."

"Christopher Pike," Spock said in acknowledgment.

"He is directly responsible for the coterie which includes Kirk."

"Which also includes McCoy, Scott, Chekov, and Sulu," Spock said.

"Among others. Only Pike and Tahla know the entire membership. It is safer for everyone concerned that the members retain credible deniability."

"Logical," Spock had to agree. "Would you object if I pursued a relationship with Jim Kirk?"

"Your choice of partners is not my concern so long as you do not marry beneath your abilities."

Spock translated that in his head to mean that as long as they were smart enough, he was free to choose. They had never before discussed any possible romantic liaisons that Spock might wish to pursue but Jim Kirk was unique in many ways. Just how many ways was something Spock was continually learning.

"Do you think you may wish to pursue a romance with him?" Sarek asked, watching his son.

"I do not know," Spock answered. Because he did not know what he wanted with Jim Kirk. Mostly what he wanted at the moment was to talk to him – face to face. But that was not possible. Nor would it have been advisable were it possible. He admittedly needed time to consider these new facts before seeing Jim Kirk again.

"Come and eat," Sarek said, standing and looking down at his son. "You will talk with him when he returns?"

"Undoubtedly," Spock agreed, following his father out and into the dining room where he greeted his mother before they sat down to lunch.

~o0o~

"So how long do you think we'll be here?" Bones asked Jim the next afternoon when they were standing outside the war room where the Prime Minister was meeting with his cabinet.

"No idea. A week? Maybe less. Depends," Jim said with a shrug.

"Yeah." Bones leaned against a convenient wall, staring out the window and watching the snow fall.

"You want to go home? I don't think your services will be needed. Willie and I can handle it if you want to go."

"You can. I'm not," Bones said, ending that particular conversation. He had no choice but to smile when Jim laughed.

"Understood," Jim said, smiling affectionately at his friend. He watched the new shift of guards arrive to take up their stations, the previous shift reporting that nothing had happened during their watch. The new guards acknowledged with a nod, sending the old ones on their way. Jim watched it all in mild curiosity.

"Everything okay?" Bones asked quietly when Jim took the space on the wall next to Bones.

"Yep. Just listening in."

"Because you are nosy that way."

"Completely," Jim agreed, taking his phone out when it vibrated. He frowned briefly before putting it back in his pocket.

"Who is it?" Bones asked.

"Unknown caller," Jim said with a shrug.

"Why do you lie to me when I always know?"

"I'm not… you aren't… shut up," Jim finally said.

"So who was it?" Bones asked again.

"Spock," Jim finally admitted.

"Then go call him back."

"No. Not until we're home. This is not a conversation we have over the phone."

"What time is it at home?" McCoy asked, studying Jim.

"Four in the morning."

"Which means he's not sleeping. And he has no idea where you are so he could be waking you up for all his knows. You need to call him back."

Jim sighed, staring out the window.

"Go. Find Willie. Come back when you've called him," Bones ordered.

Jim left without another word, going into the converted pantry off the kitchen that they were using as their base of operation. "Hey," he said to Willie when he entered.

"Jim," Willie responded, looking up at him. "Everything okay?"

"Fine. I need to make a call. Can you go stand guard with Len?"

"Sure thing. Take all the time you need. I have nowhere else to be," Willie said with a laugh as he left, closing the door behind him.

Jim took a deep breath and sat in one of the wooden chairs that creaked under his weight. "Spock," he said.

"Are you well?" Spock asked, his voice even and more emotionless than ever, even half way across the world.

"I'm fine. You should be asleep."

"I have not slept particularly well the past two nights," Spock said.

"I see," Jim said, very narrowly stopping the apology trying to spring from his lips.

"I had a lengthy discussion with my father."

"I figured you'd talked to someone," Jim agreed. "I am who I am, Spock."

"As I am aware," Spock said. "I do not wish to discuss the particulars until your return."

"Me neither," Jim had to agree. "Why'd you call?"

"A desire to know that you are unharmed," Spock admitted reluctantly.

Jim smiled at the confession. "I'm fine. Chris will call if something happens. I promise."

"He knows I know?"

"Yeah. I don't have any secrets from him," Jim said, a veiled warning.

"I understand. Now that I am assured you are indeed well, I will hang up."

"All right," Jim agreed.

"Do you know when you will return?" Spock asked before disconnecting as he said he would.

"No. I'll call you when I'm home," Jim said.

"Very well. Will you object if I talk with Pike in your absence?"

"Of course not. It might help," Jim said. "He'll probably know when I'm ready to come home. And he'll call you if I can't."

"Thank you. Leonard is also well?"

"Cranky as ever. Otherwise he's just fine."

"Indeed. Good bye Jim."

"Good bye Spock. Thanks for calling." Jim put his phone back in his pocket, considering the brief conversation. He was very good at compartmentalizing his life. Thinking about Spock while on assignment was dangerous and ill-advised. Didn't seem to matter. For now, he could think of nothing else. Feelings he very much wished he could dispense with rose up, unbidden, unwelcome: regret, sadness, confusion. If he were brutally honest with himself, which he was 99.9% of the time, he'd admit to some loneliness. He had thought for an instant that Spock was someone with whom he would have a chance, more than a fling to fulfill a physical craving. That was not to be his lot in life after all.

Spock had learned the truth. Jim supposed it was inevitable at any rate. If their 'sabbatical' had materialized, he would have had the opportunity to explain his two lives to Spock himself. As it was, duty took precedence. And now… well, now Spock would no doubt be confined in his life to the slot of 'editor.' Although Jim couldn't recall a time that Marjorie had called at 4 in the morning purely to check that he was okay. Nor had she ever seen his scars. Or slept with him, in any sense of the word. So their editor statuses were not equivalent. And Jim could only envision himself growing old alone. Well. Winona had managed. The Kirks were nothing if not self-reliant and resilient.

Shaking himself, he resolutely stood and returned to the hallway where he had been waiting with Bones. It was empty. He took his phone back out and sent Bones a text.

We're having lunch. Finally. Come to the lower level.

Jim acknowledged and made his way downstairs to what they referred to in their own company as the servants' quarters. Bones and Willie were at the table with some of the house staff, who were conversing with them in broken English. Jim had been serving as translator even though the staff enjoyed the chance to practice English with their visitors.

"Come. Sit," Vasiliy said. He was the major domo of the palace, fiercely loyal to the Prime Minister. Which made him loyal to Jim, Leonard, and Willie.

Jim did as instructed, sitting next to Bones, across from Willie who was talking with one of the pastry chefs, trading recipes from what Jim could gather.

"You okay?" Bones asked as Vasiliy called for more food for their good American friends.

"Yeah. He was… worried, I guess. We'll talk when we get home. He asked if it was okay if he called Chris."

"Good. That will help. You think the rumors are true? That Sarek is the conduit to the Vulcan High Council."

"Wouldn't surprise me," Jim said, thanking the chef for the giant bowl of stew and the fresh baked bread in ample supply.

"I'm sorry," Bones said uselessly.

Jim shrugged, turning to chat with the sous-chef next to him, the one with the bright smile, the beautiful green eyes, the long brown hair. She had flirted shamelessly with him since they first met, which was not slowed by the glowering of the third tier chef who had already laid his claim on her. Which he wasted no time in informing Jim. Jim had listened without once laughing at him, assuring Sudislav he was absolutely not interested in Klavia or her recipes.

"Vasiliy?" Jim said when there was a pause in the conversation.

"Da," the older man responded, his round face lined and worn beyond his years, a reminder of the hardships faced by residents of those areas Russia had claimed as their own, despite the wishes of the inhabitants of those countries. He was smiling at Jim, taking at least 5 years off his face.

"Any word on the inauguration?" Jim asked in Russian in order to include all those at the table.

"Not as of yet. The Minister would like it in ten days time. The Parliament thinks it is overly soon. How can the appropriate dignitaries arrive in that time? The Palace is not prepared. There is much to do," Vasiliy said, shaking his head in dismay at the idea of visitors seeing the Palace before he deemed it perfect.

"Always much to do," Jim agreed. Ten days. He had no desire to remain in Tajikistan for a minimum of ten more days. Not that they weren't being afforded all of the courtesies possible. It was their choice to remain with the workers instead of the elite of the Palace. Even if they had been eating and sleeping upstairs, ten days was still a very long time to be there.

"How long?" Bones asked quietly, Willie also leaning closer.

"Minimum of ten days," Jim responded softly. Bones and Willie did an admirable job of disguising any dismay they might feel for that length of time.

"So much for Christmas, huh?" Bones said with no bitterness.

"Right," Jim said with a shrug. "Your wife forgive you?"

"Always," Willie said with a smile. "Last I heard, she was in Iceland so it's not like she'll be home. I don't think anyway."

"Hell of a way to live," Bones said to no one in particular.

"One we chose," Jim said. Whether it was said to himself or to his friends was of no consequence and they did not comment on his observation.