We dance round in a ring and suppose,
But the Secret sits in the middle and knows. ~Robert Frost, In the Clearing

"Because I need to talk to him alone," Jim said for the third or fourth time as Sulu and Chekov continued to stall. "Seriously, guys. You can come back tomorrow. Or even tonight. No. Not tonight. You have houses. Can't you go to them, please?"

"Throwing us out," Hikaru said to Pavel with a shake of his head. "After all we've done for him. And he just throws us out like yesterday's coffee grounds."

"He has no gratitude," Pavel said sadly. "Ve vill be leaving. You can be calling us. Ve don't know that ve vill be answering."

"I'm willing to take my chances," Jim said, walking them to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow. You can come to breakfast as long as it's after 9 o'clock."

"Fine," Sulu said. "Come on, Pav. We'll find somewhere to go that we're actually wanted."

"Da," Pavel said sadly, laughing when Jim blew them kisses.

"Well," Jim said, looking around the living room to make sure everyone had in fact left. It was empty except for Bones who was building a fire.

"Go peel the potatoes. I'll be there in a minute."

"Okay," Jim agreed. He had them mostly peeled when Bones came into the kitchen carrying a brightly wrapped gift. "What's this?"

"Your Christmas present. I didn't want to give it to you last night."

"Why not? The guys would have understood."

Bones shrugged, giving it to him. "Merry Christmas, kid."

Jim smiled at him, sitting at the table with the gift. He opened it, enjoying the process of slowly revealing what lay beneath the brightly colored Santas and elves and reindeer. When the wrappings were discarded, he found the entire collection of CDs by Chillie Waters and the Ice Floes, Jim's favorite band from forever. Before Jim had published his first book, he considered becoming a Chillie Dog – following the band from venue to venue, selling Ice Floe tee-shirts. Instead, he became an author, a respectable professional.

Not only did the present consist of the Ice Floes' entire collection, there were tickets to three of their shows to be played over the next few months.

"Wow," Jim said, looking up at Bones with sparkling blue eyes. "This is totally awesome."

"You're welcome," Bones responded with a smile. "You're never too old to be a Chillie Dog."

"You'll come with me?"

"Unless Spock goes," Bones said, shaking his head.

"He doesn't strike me as the Ice Floes type," Jim laughed.

"And I am?"

"Well," Jim said, tilting his head to pretend to consider it.

"Don't answer that," Bones grumbled, picking up the peeler and finishing the potatoes before chopping the onion.

"Thank you, Bones. Seriously," Jim said with a bright smile.

"You're welcome," Bones said, smiling at him. "I guess we have to suffer through the greatest hits now, huh?"

"You love the Floes. You just like to pretend that you don't," Jim said with a laugh.

"Whatever. Go answer the door."

"I'm going," Jim assured him, opening it to admit Spock. "Hi."

"Jim," Spock said, his expression guarded. Jim felt self-conscious with him and regretted it had come to this. But he couldn't be sure what Spock might say or what would come of their inevitable talk.

"Let me have your coat," Jim said, opening the coat closet to hang it up. "Come on into the kitchen. Bones is finishing up the soup."

Spock nodded, following Jim into the kitchen and greeting Leonard.

"Would you like some tea?" Jim asked Spock, putting on the kettle.

"I would," Spock agreed, watching Jim move about the kitchen. "Is there anything I may do to assist?" Spock asked Leonard.

"Not a thing," Leonard said. "Thanks though. It'll be ready in about 15 minutes. Get the bread out of the cabinet," he requested from Jim who did it. Bones put it in the oven to let it heat up as the potatoes boiled happily on the stove.

"You are a fan of the Ice Floes?" Spock asked, addressing neither of them. Or both of them.

"Jim is," Leonard answered. "Part of his misspent youth."

"That is so not true," Jim protested. "I was never a Chillie Dog."

"I have been witness to one of their presentations," Spock said. "It was quite…lively."

"That's a good word for it," Bones agreed.

"Bones gave these to me for Christmas," Jim said, putting the CDs and tickets up out of the way. The kettle was whistling so Jim filled Spock's cup with boiling water, the Vulcan tea already in the infuser waiting.

"Is it presumptuous of me to inquire what you gave to him?" Spock asked, making Jim and Leonard laugh.

"Not at all," Leonard said. "He's not allowed to give me anything."

Spock lifted one inquiring eyebrow at that response. "Indeed."

"He made the rule," Jim said innocently

"Not until you gave me the car," Leonard said sternly.

"A car," Spock repeated, hidden amusement nearly showing through.

Jim shrugged at that. "Well. He needed a new car. He was driving this awful van thing. Totally not fitting for a doctor. So I bought him a car for Christmas."

"A Mercedes. It was very cliché. Just like one of those idiotic commercials. He drug me out in the snow and cold and there it was in the driveway with a giant red bow on top. After that, I told him he was never allowed to get me a Christmas present," Leonard said, frowning at Jim."

"Are there photographs of this event?" Spock asked.

"Of course," Jim said. "I'll find them after lunch."

"You most certainly will not," Leonard corrected, turning his attention to Spock. "Would you like something to drink besides your tea?"

"A glass of wine," Spock said in agreement, glancing over at Jim. "If it is not inconvenient."

"Not in the least," Bones assured him, giving him a glass of white wine.

"Are you the only occupants of the house at present?" Spock asked, making Jim laugh softly.

"Finally. We threw the last of them out this morning. Before they could make us play Monopoly one more time," Jim said.

"Monopoly is an interesting game," Spock said. "I have played on several occasions. My mother enjoys it."

"We played last night. Until Pavel owned all of our properties and some of our as yet unborn children," Jim said, sipping his Pepsi.

"What will he do with the children?" Spock asked seriously, making Jim and Leonard laugh.

"He has no idea," Jim said with a shrug. "Maybe we only had to promise to name all of our children after him."

"That is a much more reasonable expectation," Spock agreed.

"We thought so," Leonard said. "Did you have a good Christmas?"

"My mother enjoys the holiday. My father indulges her. I do as well," Spock admitted.

"That's what Christmas is for," Leonard said. "Family. Friends. Food."

"Presents," Jim added.

"Only for the children or the childish," Bones told him.

Jim shrugged at that. "Did you and your family stay here?"

"We did," Spock said. "Mother had suggested we go to Canada but my father declined. He prefers to avoid snow whenever possible."

"Most Vulcans do," Jim said. "Is there some place in Canada you usually visit?"

"Mother enjoys Prince Edward Island. It can be quite inhospitable in the winter."

"I would imagine so," Jim said. "I've never been to Prince Edward Island."

"Indeed," Spock said in mild surprise. "I was under the impression there were not many places you had not been."

"I get around," Jim agreed. "But I haven't been everywhere."

"Almost," Bones said, stabbing the potatoes to test their doneness.

"So have you," Jim reminded him.

"I don't always go," Bones said.

"Have you always… traveled together?" Spock asked. He was trying very hard not to sound overly interested but he suspected he had not succeeded in hiding his curiosity.

"Generally," Jim said. "We entered at the same time. We are assigned together about 50% of the time."

"More like 65%," Bones corrected. "Otherwise I can't be sure you'll come back alive."

"True," Jim agreed. "I know you are, to put it in very Human terms, dying of curiosity."

"I admit to… some interest," Spock said. "Sarek provided an overview of the organization. He did not share any details."

Jim nodded at that, looking over at Bones. "And he is the tersaya?"

"He is. A fact of which I was unaware until he and I talked."

"We speculated he was the conduit between the Consortium and the High Council but we never knew for sure," Bones said.

"You were aware before we became acquainted?" Spock asked.

"No," Jim said. "We suspected. It could have been him or Sepek."

"My money was on T'Shanik," Leonard said.

"Both likely candidates," Spock agreed. "Neither are of the Shi'Kahr Clan."

"We had no idea it was your clan," Leonard said.

"Nor did I," Spock said, his voice a little softer than what they had learned was normal.

"This can't be easy for you," Leonard said sympathetically. "It had to have been quite a surprise."

"Yes," Spock agreed. "Not solely learning of your involvement."

"Why did Sarek keep it a secret from you?" Jim asked, his tone sympathetic and not at all accusatory.

"He had decided I would not follow him as tersaya. He had hoped to shield me from the Clan's involvement."

"Then I came along," Jim said.

"Indeed. Had our relationship remained professional, I believe he would have not told me even now."

Jim nodded at that, glancing over at Bones who was watching him even as he mashed the potatoes for the soup. "At the risk of being a cliché, how do you feel about what he told you?" Jim asked.

"Which part?" Spock asked in return.

"Every part," Jim responded.

"He could have avoided it by not assigning Jim to you," Bones pointed out.

"I believe he had no reason to think our relationship would be other than that of editor and writer."

"He had no idea of how irresistible I am," Jim said with an over-the-top smile.

"God but you're egotistical," Bones scowled.

"If you done it, it ain't bragging," Jim quoted.

"Thank you, Yogi Berra."

"Walt Whitman," Jim corrected.

"You sure?" Bones asked.

"Walt Whitman," Spock confirmed. "Often misattributed to Yogi Berra and Dizzy Dean."

"Whatever. Get the bread out of the oven," Bones ordered as he dished the soup out into bowls.

"Yes sir. Right away sir," Jim said, doing as he was asked. Spock watched and listened, his amusement only in his dark, sparkling eyes.

"Thank you," Leonard said with exaggerated patience, making Jim roll his eyes.

"What else do you want to know?" Jim asked Spock when they were at the table, the food hot and ready.

"What are you at liberty to reveal?" Spock asked in return.

"Pretty much anything. Chris gave us permission to tell you whatever you want to know, outside of names," Jim said.

"I see. That shows much trust on his part."

"Not when your father is tersaya," Leonard said. "If we don't tell you, you only have to ask him."

Spock shook his head at that. "I do not know that he would tell me."

Jim shrugged. "Ask away," he said, a casual wave of his hand. "If we can't answer, we'll tell you."

Spock ate his soup silently, considering the invitation. "Now that you have provided me permission, I do not know what I wish to know."

"Do you want to know what we do? Where we go? Who we've encountered?" Leonard suggested.

"I have some idea of your actions. Sarek informed me that Jim is an assassin. You will also kill if necessary."

Leonard nodded, glancing over at Jim who was calmly eating his soup. "Jim doesn't kill as often as outsider believe. Only when it's necessary."

"And who deems it is necessary? To take another life?" Spock asked. Jim nearly started at the question but remained impassive.

"The Consortium. They tell Chris and Chris tells us. I don't kill without proper authority," Jim said.

"Perhaps no one truly has the authority to take another life," Spock suggested.

"In our world, they do," Leonard said evenly.

"There's not really much point in having a philosophical discussion about what we do or on whose authority we do it," Jim said, his voice free of accusation or guilt. "All societies have means of eliminating those who would do unrepentant harm to others."

"Vulcans do not have an arrangement such as you describe," Spock responded.

"Can you be sure?" Jim asked. "You didn't know about the Consortium or your father's involvement until very recently. And the Consortium was originally established by the Vulcan High Council."

"For purposes which are no longer in effect. The original mandate has been… corrupted."

"By mere Humans," Jim suggested. The words fell as chips of ice, the same ice that was freezing his cold blue eyes.

"That was not the intent of my words," Spock said, black frozen eyes meeting blue. He finally shook his head, looking away from Jim. "I… confess I find that portion of your life …disturbing."

"I know," Jim agreed quietly, anger easing somewhat.

"I believed we had the possibility of a…future. I am no longer certain."

"I know," Jim repeated.

"Why does finding out change your opinion?" Leonard asked evenly. He didn't let any of his own anger come through his tone or his expression. "Jim is still who he is. He's an excellent writer. He's overly egotistical but that's his biggest flaw. I'm a surgeon. And a fairly good cook. None of that is negated by our association with the Consortium."

"You are paid assassins," Spock said. "I do not know how that cannot alter my view."

"What if you hadn't found out?" Leonard asked.

"Then Jim would have been living a lie. I do not think it could have remained secret indefinitely."

"Marjorie never knew," Jim said.

"She never questioned your frequent and mysterious absences?" Spock asked.

"She figured I was eccentric. And since we weren't seeing each other socially, I didn't talk to her every day. The Consortium tried not to send me on assignment when my final drafts were due. She never noticed I wasn't around other times."

"Our personal relationship is… unusual. In that we also have a professional one," Spock said.

"Does Sarek object?" Leonard asked.

"He does not."

"Then here's the thing," Jim said smoothly, evenly. His tone would have made any Vulcan proud. "I am who I am. The person you know – the writer, the one some people think of as a spoiled man-child. I like to run – no I hate to run but I do it anyway. I speak 12 languages and can get by in a few more. I go to Paraguay to research threatened indigenous languages and drag Hikaru along with me. I write and publish books which to my never-ending surprise become best sellers. Then I have to make the rounds, which includes, God help me, visiting Oprah.

"I'm also a member of the Consortium. We do things we don't and can't discuss. I take orders from Christopher Pike. I don't question them. I don't refuse them. I'm a licensed shuttle pilot. And on occasion my employment with the Consortium means I kill people – people who the world is better off without. I've been shot, stabbed, nearly drowned, almost died of hypothermia twice, and broken more bones than even Leonard can keep track of.

"I won't say living two lives is easy. It isn't. But we've chosen this life.

"When you and I met for the first time, I didn't know what to think. Then you showed me your Human side and…well. I don't need to tell you what happened. I can tell you I felt for you something I hadn't felt before. Not for anyone. Now you've found out that I have two lives. If you walk away, I'll survive. I'll regret that we couldn't make it work. But I will not and cannot change who I am. Not for you. Not for anyone. Which means the choice is yours."

Jim finally stopped, taking a deep breath, wishing it weren't so complicated. But it was. And pretending wasn't going to change any of it. What happened next was entirely up to Spock and Jim was going to have to wait as he made that decision.

Jim could feel the tension in Bones' body, coiled and ready to flee or fight, depending on how Spock ultimately reacted. Jim calmly ate his soup, not staring at Spock as much as he wanted to. He could tell Spock was considering all that had been said, his face carefully blank in the best Vulcan tradition.

"I cannot," Spock finally said, his voice soft and full of regret.

"I understand," Jim said with a nod.

"Perhaps it is best if I leave," Spock said, looking at Jim and then at Leonard.

"That's your choice," Jim said.

Spock nodded and stood. He retrieved his own coat and left silently, closing the door behind him.

Jim calmly stood, took the rum from the cabinet and filled his glass with it. There was still some Pepsi left but that was a minor inconvenience at best.

"That didn't go especially well, did it?" Bones finally said.

Jim laughed, a hard bitter sound. "You are the master of understatements."

"That's me," Bones agreed. "I am sorry."

Jim shrugged. "I figured he'd leave. I kill people. He's a vegetarian. Not exactly a match made in heaven."

"You can be as sarcastic as you want. I know you're hurt by this," Bones said, studying Jim.

"Of course I'm hurt. I'm also a realist. You're going to marry Nyota and I'm going to grow old and bitter - alone."

"Old and bitter, maybe. Alone - never," Bones assured him. "Go call Chris."

"That's your default for everything, isn't it?" Jim asked in a weary voice.

"No, you idiot. He's your boss. He needs to know."

"You call him. I'm going to finish this rum and then go swimming."

"Go swimming first. I don't want to have to haul your drunken ass out of our pool."

"Fine," Jim said, standing up. "You have to come with me. It's a rule, you know."

"I do know. Since I made the rule," Bones agreed, taking the phone as he followed Jim into his bedroom. He called Chris, leaving him a message to call when he had the chance. Jim emerged from his dressing room in his swim trunks and tee shirt, going with Bones to the covered, heated pool.

Jim discarded his tee shirt, diving cleanly into the pool. He liked swimming only a little more than he liked running but at least it wasn't as hard on his body. And the warm water was very soothing, especially right now.

His conversation with Spock insisted on replaying in his head and he felt some sadness trying to well up. He didn't want to mourn what they never had. He didn't want to regret what they had managed to share. But ultimately he was very Human in his reaction and he was saddened by Spock's departure. He didn't blame Spock and wasn't really surprised at the way it had turned out. He had allowed some section of his brain to consider what the future would be like with Spock in it. That part was the most angry, the most hurt. But the rest of his brain blamed his romantic side for trying to take over. He did wonder if other people, normal people, witnessed fights in their own minds but since he was never considered normal, he had no way of knowing.

He slowed and stopped, surfacing at the edge of the pool where Bones waited. He looked up at him breathlessly, frowning in response to the one of his friend's face. "I'm okay."

"Do you know how many laps you swam?"

"Uhm… 10?" Jim guessed. Okay, lied.

"Sure," Bones said, sensing his lie and shaking his head. "Please come out. If you need to swim again, I'll come with you."

Jim nodded and hoisted himself out, accepting the towel. When he was wrapped up in one of the robes, he followed Bones back into the house proper and stood beside the fireplace.

"Are you showering?" Bones asked.

"Yeah. In a minute," Jim responded, watching the dance of the flames.

"Tell me what you're feeling. And don't give me your 'I'm fine' B.S. 'Cause I know it's not so."

Jim sighed, taking the juice Bones shoved at him. He'd have preferred the rest of his rum but that wasn't on the agenda just yet. "I'm disappointed. I'm sorry he couldn't accept me… our lives. I enjoyed his… company. A lot. His conversation. His never-obvious amusement."

"His intelligence that actually challenged yours," Bones added.

"You're smarter than I am," Jim said.

"Not."

"I am regretting what we never had," Jim confessed. "For all my love-em-and-leave-em history, I thought he might be the one."

"I know," Bones said in sympathy. "If our lives were different, he…"

"Please don't say it," Jim requested. "Hearing it inside my own head is one thing. Hearing you say it is an entirely different thing."

"All right," Bones agreed. "Do you want me to call the guys? Or do you want the time alone?"

"I think I need some time with just you and me," Jim said with a shrug. "Do you have a date?"

"No. Not until Thursday. She's leaving for London this afternoon. For her opening."

"Okay," Jim said. "I'm going to shower. Then we'll watch football?"

"Of course," Bones agreed, watching him go toward his bedroom. He sighed, wishing there was something more he could do but knew there wasn't. He went into the kitchen to clean up from lunch and was tempted to pour out the rum with a splash of Pepsi, but that would be wasteful and futile. Besides, Jim didn't often drink and if he ever deserved it, now was one of those times.

"Hey," Jim said when he returned to the living room, dressed in sweats and warm socks.

"Hey yourself," Bones said, looking up at him. "You seem perkier."

Jim shrugged, settling on the couch. "I think I'm going to find Winona and go visit her."

"I like that idea," Bones agreed. "Since you didn't get to spend Christmas with her."

"Exactly. Did Chris call? He'll know where she is."

"No he didn't. Why don't you just call her?"

"If it's the middle of the night where she is, I don't want to risk waking her," Jim said.

"Then text her. If she's asleep, she won't respond," Bones pointed out sensibly.

"Oh yeah," Jim agreed, going into the kitchen for his cell phone. He sent his mom a text, smiling when the phone immediately rang. "Hey."

"Hi darling. What are you doing?" Winona asked, a smile in her voice.

"Not a whole lot. Wondering where you are."

"I'm in Prague, dear. Why?"

"I was thinking about coming to see you. Since we didn't see each other over Christmas."

"That would be lovely. But first you have to tell me what's wrong," Winona said.

Jim sighed and gave her an abbreviated version of what had happened.

"I'm sorry. Come to Prague. We'll go to Old Town. Watch the clock. Eat too much food."

"How long will you be there?" Jim asked.

"A week. Longer if you want to stay."

"Then we can go to Tuscany and see Marjorie," Jim suggested.

"That would be lovely," Winona agreed. "When will you get here?"

"I have to talk to Chris first. Once I know, I'll email you."

"All right, dear. I look forward to seeing you." She hung up, Jim looking over at Bones.

"You don't mind, right?"

"Of course not," Bones assured him. "It will be good for you. Just make sure you come back in time for the first Ice Floes concert."

"I will," Jim said with a nod. "If I stay with mom for a week, then we go see Marjorie, I'll be home in plenty of time."

"All right," Bones said. "At the risk of being redundant, you have to call Chris."

"Yeah," Jim agreed. "Or I can wait until he calls me."

"True," Bones said, watching Jim before focusing on his laptop.

"What are you doing?"

"Uhmm… let's see. Reading my email. Catching up on medical journals. Reading the NY Times. Wondering why you are so nosy. Looking for new recipes I can use to hide vegetables so you will actually eat them."

"So it really is all about me," Jim said with a goofy grin.

"Did you ever have reason to doubt it?" Bones asked in return, laughing when Jim did.