He's in the garden.
The air is warm and sweet, the flowers rustling in a light breeze. The sun is pinwheeling too fast in circles along the horizon, never rising or setting, just circling, spinning long shadows about wildly. It's spellbinding in the way a wildfire might be; the implications for the planet are dire but the garden seems undisturbed and the roil of the clouds is hypnotically lovely.
Then the sun steps out of the sky, rolls lazily up the path towards him. The flowers and trees bent to it, reaching for the light with reverence, but it passes them to come closer to Spock. It doesn't stop when it reaches his feet. The light and warmth press onward, blinding him and engulfing him, and when it speaks its voice is eternal, familiar.
"See you soon."
Spock woke up.
For a moment he stared at the ceiling overhead and regretted not meditating the night before. Then he pushed himself to his feet and walked to the bathroom.
The citadel was in a state of chaos.
The staff was clambering to complete last-minute preparations, most of them wild-eyed and running through the halls for reasons Spock could only guess at. Ms. Rand could usually be found at their epicenter, and had anyone asked him where the leftover supplies were he would have directed them to her hair. Much to her chagrin, guests were arriving early to get their rooms, an ever-growing trickle through the front hall of finery and military stiffness. Spock avoided them, partially because he had no desire for pleasantries and partially because he knew some of them rather intimately.
He located Jane after some digging in a pile of clothes in her closet.
"Is there a reason you have upended the contents of your drawers onto the floor?"
Jane looked at her feet sulkily when he lifted her from the pile and set her on the floor. "The Admiral said that if you really want to understand a something you have to immerse yourself in it."
Spock raised an eyebrow "And you want to understand your wardrobe?"
She frowned "I can't pick which dress I should wear."
Spock blinked at her, then the pile of clothes.
"I believe you will be stunning in whatever you chose."
Jane smiled a bit, then frowned some more "That doesn't help."
"It never does."
Jane and Spock both looked to the door to see Chapel watching them with a smile. She had yet to start preparing for the ball herself and was dressed in her usual blue uniform, her hair pinned in a bun.
"If I may?" she asked. Spock glanced at the pile of clothes again.
"Please," he said, all but ushering her in "It has been some time since I have needed to consider these things, and I find am out of practice."
Chapel was delighted - and so was Jane, as the nurse systematically eliminated the majority of the pile. Spock took notes, trying to find a methodical pattern to what made one outfit "too stuffy" and another "too summer" and another simply "eh." He liked to think that by the time Jane had picked a dress, a white-silver godet with long sleeves and Queen Ann neckline, he had dusted off his fashion knowledge to passable.
"What do you think, father?" Jane asked, holding it up for him to see.
"A wise choice."
She smiled broadly until Chapel tangled her hands in Jane's scraggly blonde locks.
"We've got to do something about this hair!"
Jane ducked away and tugged at it. Then she lit up with inspiration and looked to Spock.
"Can I cut it?"
"Not yourself." Spock allowed.
Chapel laughed and pushed herself to her feet, already steering Jane towards the bathroom.
"How do you want it?"
"Like father's."
Spock tilted his head at the request. Such a style would showcase her usually-covered ears. Spock had been the source of that particular self-consciousness, unfortunately, and there was something warming about her shaking it off now. He imagined her with the hairstyle consideringly.
"Perhaps we should add gloves to the ensemble."
Jane looked down at her hands, as if picturing them.
"Why?"
"It's customary for most vulcans at alien gatherings."
Jane looked to Chapel, who put a finger to her lips in thought.
"I think it would look very nice."
"Okay." Jane said, looking pleased with the development as Chapel lead her towards the bathroom.
When they moved from his line of sight and all he could hear was the low bubble of their voices and the clink of metal and porcelain, he looked around. The room was even more of a disaster than it had been when he arrived, but it would have to wait. It was about time that he started getting ready too.
Against form, Spock entered from one of the doors at the side of the ballroom. Jim found himself slightly disappointed. He'd been looking forward to watching Spock descend the stairs like royalty. He certainly looked the part - the clothes he was wearing must have been vulcan, his shirt jet black with billowing sleeves and foreign silver script on the front, his pants a similar light-absorbing color. His mask was simple, it covered his eyes and curled down to the end of his nose, black as the rest of his outfit and lined with silver along the edges. He looked stunning, and the sight of him made Jim's heart ache and breath stutter all at once.
Jane was by his side, radiant as always, her hair cut short to the traditional vulcan style. She was a contrast and a half to him - blonde hair, silver dress and white mask, smiling, eyes wide with wonder where Spock was assessing the room calmly. Jim knew that if he were closer he would be able to make out the emotions he was hiding in the depths of his eyes, trace the source of the hesitance in his step, but he refrained from tempting fate.
Jim was one of those plebeian masses in a tuxedo, but his mask was much flashier and more excessive than most. This was by necessity, of course, since he and Spock were in the same room (and not because he hoped he wasn't recognized often). It covered the right side of his face entirely with gold-detailed red porcelain, stretched across his forehead and hung low on his cheekbone so only the lower left side of his face was visible at all. So far it had done a pretty good job of disguising him from the majority of the party goers.
The hors d'oeuvres were about to come around and Commodore April was making his way over, so he pulled on his best command grin and got ready to entertain. Just before he turned away he saw none other than Montgomery Scott dragging Uhura over to intercept Spock. He had the presence of mind to both hope they got along and pray they wouldn't.
"Father, why aren't you wearing gloves too?" Jane asked quietly as they walked into the ballroom.
The lighting was adequate and not a photon more, soft enough to be flattering and grant an air of majesty to the golden decorations lining the room. Starfleet officers and their guests milled about making small talk while servers wove through them with glasses of expensive champagne, all in masks of varying sizes and origins.
"I'm afraid my status prevents it." Spock replied absently.
"Wouldn't mine too then?"
"You are a child. The circumstances are different."
"Spock!"
Spock turned to see a rather round man coming his way, his tall form clearing a path for the woman by his side.
"Sir?"
The man reached him and tipped up his mask so Spock could see his face.
"Ah, Captain Scott."
Scott replaced his mask and slapped Spock's arm in greeting "Good to see you again!"
"Mister Spock." The woman greeted. Now that he knew to look, he could see it was the same woman who had come to visit the Admiral, her dark skin radiant in the light of the chandeliers, dressed now in a blue silk dress and matching, glittering mask.
"Commander." he greeted "Can I assume Commander Sulu is here as well?"
"Oh no lad, Captains and up." he leaned in conspiratorially "She's my plus one."
Commander Uhura rolled her eyes slightly as he slung an arm over her shoulders "I'm here to keep him out of trouble."
"Sulu's in a right snitch about not getting to this one, though - they're taking their sweet time with his promotion." Scotty snickered about this, so Spock had to assume the delay had little to do with the incident that had put the Admiral in the citadel.
Jane, who had covertly taken shelter behind the over sized sleeves of his robes, peeked out. Uhura caught sight of her and smiled kindly.
"Hello dear. Jane, isn't it?"
Her fingers snagged in the dangling fabric at Spock's wrist, Jane nodded. Spock had a moment to wonder at her shyness before he realized that she had had all of three occasions in her life to meet new people, including this one, and the first two were not under the best of circumstances.
"I'm Nyota. It's nice to see you again."
Jane fidgeted a bit, then said quietly "He said you were a Commander."
"I am. I served on a few deep space missions as a communications officer."
"Did you get to go on away teams?"
"Sometimes." Uhura smiled brightly, something mischievous shining in her eyes "I even got to lead a few. Once, all the boys got hypnotized by aliens and I had to form a rescue mission to save them."
Jane left the protection Spock had provided and came forward excitedly "You did?"
"Aye." Scott agreed "You were ravishing!"
Uhura laughed and Scott crouched to see her better "You're a stunning one yourself, aren't you?" he looked considering "There's just one thing missing."
Uhura chuckled into her drink, Spock assumed because she had seen this many times before. Scott reached behind Jane's ear and returned with a blue flower.
"Aha! That's it!"
Spock was in the process of saying that such a move was illogical, since it was one of the flowers from the centerpieces and look how obvious the sleight of hand had been, but Jane lit up with a delighted grin on her lips. Scott placed the flower behind her ear and Spock closed his mouth, relenting.
"Did you learn that in space?" Jane asked excitedly.
"Oh, yes," Scott said as he pushed himself to his feet "There was a planet that gave us magic powers, but wee ones, and I never told anyone but I kept mine when we left."
Uhura thwapped him on the shoulder.
"Don't make things up."
"It could've happened!" Scott insisted "We met Abraham Lincoln for heaven's sake!"
Uhura, ignoring him, plucked a glass of something dark from a passing busser and focused on Spock so casually that he almost didn't notice the glint in her eyes.
"So Spock, tell us about yourself."
A cursory glance at Scott confirmed that he was letting the more diplomatic of the couple ask a question he was very interested in, as well. Vaguely disquieted by it, Spock raised one eyebrow.
"My profession must be obvious to you."
Scott waived his hand dismissively "Of course, but you've got to have hobbies. From what I hear you have the run of this place most of the time and I know Vulcans don't sleep much." his eyes sparkled "We have a rare opportunity to see into the Admiral's mind with you. We're invested!"
Uhura sighed as though Scott's behavior was common and exasperating, but made no attempt to amend the situation. Spock folded his hands behind his back and raised one eyebrow.
"Would I be correct in assuming that you mean that in the traditional monetary sense?"
Scott and Uhura blinked for a moment.
Then they both started laughing.
"Sharp, aren't you?" Scott cackled "I think that's a point to me!"
Spock held himself a little straighter, feeling satisfied by the reaction for reasons he did not quite understand.
"Shame on you, ambushing him at the door." said a familiar voice.
Scott and Uhura broke apart to reveal Nurse Chapel and Doctor McCoy behind them.
"Christine!" Uhura set a hand on her shoulder, bare but for the red strap of her crimson dress "I was so sorry to miss you last time!"
"C'meer old man!" Scott called, grabbing Leonard in a bear hug and following up with one for Chapel. Spock began to suspect the man was slightly inebriated.
"You two," Leonard said, putting his navy suit back in order "need to focus on something other than the pool."
"Says the man with the direct line."
Jane tugged on the dangling sleeve of his shirt to get his attention.
"We have a pool?" she asked quietly.
Spock refrained from sighing "A betting pool."
"Ohh."
Spock glanced at her and saw that she did, in fact, understand, and decided he ought to monitor her literary choices a bit closer.
On the stage, the orchestra was readying to play, signaling to the guests that the dancing was to start soon. People were either clearing out or choosing partners in preparation.
"Warp physics." Spock said, surprising himself.
"What?"
"You inquired about my hobbies. I find studying warp physics and xenobiology, among other things, to be intellectually stimulating."
Scott's eyes practically gleamed with something predatory.
"Is that so?"
"Oh, no, now you've done it." Uhura sighed, covering her face with her free hand.
Scott threw an arm around his shoulder, starting to grin.
"So tell me, what do you think of Thy'lek's new theories?"
Spock narrowed his eyes slightly.
"They are interesting, if you do not consider their use in applied theory."
"And why do you say that?" Scott asked, sounding somewhat offended.
"Thy'lek Tella's theories break down when applied to common, tested warp science. I am surprised that the article received peer review status with such a glaring error."
Definitely offended, though he seemed to be gearing up for an exciting conversation.
"Oh god, there's two of them." Leonard muttered.
"Don't hold up? I'll admit there are some bugs, but if you take the recent additions to relativity into account-"
"Excuse me." a young but strong voice interrupted. All eyes turned to a tiny dark-skinned Vulcan boy who had appeared at the edge of the group. To his credit, he didn't flinch.
"I apologize for the interruption. If it is agreeable, I would like to ask the young lady to dance."
Spock observed the boy. He wore the traditional grey formal robes of the Vulcans along with a pair of white gloves, his hair cut close to his head in the ways of the northern people. Spock looked to Jane, who seemed to be leaning towards the opportunity itself. She must have been bored, he realized, standing around listening to them talk.
"Can I, father?"
Slightly dazed, Spock nodded. The boy bowed as she left their circle to join him, ushering her ahead of him in a gentlemanly way. Spock watched them go with an uncomfortable feeling growing in his chest.
Scotty whistled low.
"That's one brave boy. Right in front of her dad!" he turned to the doctor and Chapel "any idea, medically, how he carries cajones that big around?"
Chapel laughed a bit and shook her head "No idea."
Leonard, for his part, flagged a busser and pointed at a dark brown drink.
"What's this?" he asked.
"Chocolate rum, sir." the busser replied.
"Perfect." Leonard swiped it and held it out to Spock "Father to father, this will do wonders on that sinking feeling in your gut."
Spock took the drink, pursing his lips just a bit.
"While I don't doubt alcoholism has its allures, I would rather not develop it."
They laughed and Leonard scowled until Ms. Rand appeared in their midst.
"What did I miss?" she asked, smiling.
Another round of boisterous greeting started, and distantly, as they drew him back into the conversation, he heard Jane's voice rise excitedly over the crowd.
"My name's Jane, what's yours?"
Jim bowed to the woman across from him, a stately vulcan with dark skin and a darker dress complimented by long, black lace gloves, and she bowed in return.
"My lady." he greeted.
"Sir."
Jim had been looking forward to this part of the night. Dancing, not being recognized, feeling like a part of Starfleet again. Another pair joined the floor nearby as the conductor entered the ballroom.
"Is something the matter?" asked a small, logical voice.
"I don't know how."
Jim glanced over and found himself smiling.
The boy with her puffed up of teaching her "I do." he declared.
"Hey, don't I know you?" Jim asked.
Jane looked up and seemed lost, so Jim pulled his mask up and pressed a finger to his lips. She brightened instantly, a smile breaking over her face and seeming to surprise the boy.
"Admiral!"
Jim replaced the mask, tutting "No, no, I'm someone else entirely. I'm the masked man."
Jane giggled again, and the boy blinked.
"Now, I hear you're learning how to dance."
He gave them an exaggerated once-over, noting that Jane had taken the side of the lead, and nodded as though he found this satisfactory.
"If you get stuck, just copy me." he smiled as the music started, holding out a hand to the vulcan across from him with a flourish. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jane copy the movement.
Yeah, this would be a good night.
Spock sipped the champagne one of the Admiral's friends - he hadn't seen which one - had shoved into his hands earlier in an attempt to interrupt his discussion with Mister Scott. All of them had since joined the dance. Scott had spent the better part of an hour entertaining Jane with magic tricks while Uhura regaled her with stories of her time in space with the Admiral, and now Scott was spinning Uhura about in a facsimile of a dance, but she was laughing so he was forced to assume she was not in distress. Jane had since returned to the young man who had so boldly asked her to dance, which was logical, he told himself, as they were the only ones that height. They had left the floor to sit in the chairs by the wall, Jane talking animatedly and the boy looking somewhat befuddled by her. Leonard had been dancing with Ms. Rand for some time, but had now disappeared.
In a tumble of inebriated limbs, Ms. Rand and Nurse Chapel stumbled out of the crowd towards him, laughing happily with each other.
"Spock!" Rand called, her eyes sparkling "You look like someone stroked your fur the wrong way. Have you danced at all?"
"Negative." Spock replied flatly.
Chapel followed his narrowed gaze to Jane and the boy and scoffed.
"Let her be, Spock, she's just making friends. No need to worry about them stealing her away for at least a few more years."
Spock consciously didn't frown. After a moment of this, Chapel's eyebrows raised.
"Spock, you need a distraction. Get out on that floor, doctor's orders."
Spock had a few choice things to say to that, but as he was about to say them he considered that she might have a point.
"You are not a doctor." he said, setting his glass down with an air of resignation.
"Two more months and she will be, so if I were you I'd listen." Rand giggled.
"So be it." Spock muttered gloomily.
He turned to the undulating tides of party-goers. A second later Spock found himself unceremoniously shoved forward. He glanced back, already getting pulled in as the dancers prepared to switch.
"Dance, Spock. Have fun!" Chapel called, then said more quietly to Ms. Rand, amused, "You'd think he was going to execution."
A new song started and Spock danced with a few disguised officials, as prescribed.
On the third switch, he looked back to watch Jane with trepidation clawing at his heart. Illogical, he knew - they were children, and he had no business worrying now. Still, he watched Jane for another moment before turning to his next partner.
And caught his breath.
Even as extensive as the mask was, there was no question in Spock's mind of who he was standing before.
Jim Kirk.
For a moment all the sound went out of the world as he stared into hazel-blue eyes and fought to let the emotions that crashed over him diffuse rather than burst from his skin. Jim was barely touched by age, his hair less straight, probably from the lax dress code. He was dressed simply, with no indication of where his life had taken him.
In the space of and instant he knew Jim recognized him as well - he must have, as Spock had taken little care to hide his identity. His eyes shone with an old feeling, a saudade smile on his lips as their eyes locked. Spock took a slow, steadying breath as Jim bowed and held out his hand.
Jim's hand was empty, but Spock felt there was a piece of himself in it, one that had been missing for so long the ache was a part of him, and as their hands slid together it fell back into place as if it had never been gone.
It took a herculean effort to block out Jim's thoughts as Jim stepped in close and settled a hand on his waist. Looking into his eyes, Spock found himself grateful for this one, final moment, even if it would be fleeting.
The music began anew, and though he had been aware of what composition it was before, the delicate cadence of the piano solo in the concerto of Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini sent a shiver of inevitability down his spine. Were Spock a man who believed in destiny, this would have proven it to him. The moment was not lost on Jim. Spock felt a bubble of humor and heard the faintest whisper of 'how poetic' as Jim began to lead.
The music wrapped around them, caressed their skin with its melody, and in a cliché neither had known could be so true, the world fell away. In the dim light of the ballroom they danced.
There was simplicity to it, Spock noted - none of the hurt or time mattered, so long as this one, fragile instant lasted. He didn't listen in, but he let Jim's presence wrap around and engulf him the way the strange sunlight with his voice had in a dream not hours ago. He felt, incredibly, the love he once had fully to himself brushing along his skin. I have missed you, he wanted to say, but didn't, wouldn't risk losing him a second sooner than he had to.
Unnoticed to them the conductor called out "switch!" and on the side of the dance floor, a sharp motion when Rand caught sight of them and grabbed Chapel's arm to direct her attention, fingers white on the stem of her glass.
"That one was the source of a lot of heartbreak for Jim. Nearly cleaned out my swill a few times over the years." Scotty said from where he was watching, too, leaned against a pillar swirling his own liquor thoughtfully "I think I'm starting to see why."
The piano gave way to the rest of the orchestra, lifting and swirling around them so Jim picked up the pace of their steps. Spock followed along seamlessly, as though every step was predetermined as the rise of the sun.
There was no space between them anymore; Jim's thumb was tracing absent circles on the webbing between Spock's thumb and forefinger, and every moment or breath seemed to ease them further into a single, complete being.
Spock found himself leaning too close, drinking in Jim's presence like an addiction long denied.
For an undetermined amount of time, they and the dance floor beneath them were the only things left in the universe.
Eventually, like all things, the music came to an end, and they slowed to a stop. They didn't break apart, and for a split, resonant second, everything was quiet, the air felt soft as velvet, and their lips hovered a hair's breadth apart.
Then sound filtered back into their world, the low murmur of voices as the guests moved to the edges for a break, and reluctantly they drew back. Spock lingered an extra second, keeping their fingers entwined as long as possible, and for an instant he entertained the idea that Jim might say one of the things that were swirling in his eyes. Then he let go, nodding, because there was nothing left to say, and Jim let him.
When the next dance began, Spock had disappeared from the lineup.
Once in the hallway outside the light and rancor of the ball, Spock set a forearm on the wall with the intention of drawing only a modicum of strength before returning. Somehow he ended up leaning most of his weight on it instead. He willed himself to be calm. This had been his choice. His control should not be shattered so easily by Kirk after so many years.
Any attempt at regaining it was interrupted by a slurred voice behind him.
"Hey, I know you."
Spock turned to see a man staring at him, his mask in one hand and a nearly-empty glass held perilously in the other. With great exasperation, he recognized an associate of Pike's. A commodore, if he remembered correctly.
"You're Admiral Pike's-"
The commodore hiccupped in the middle of the word and seemed to forget to try again. "Pretty thing, ain'tcha? Bet I could make you feel real good."
Spock drew himself up a bit, frowning.
"I belonged to Admiral Pike once, but I am now in the service of the master of this house. As I have no obligation to you, I must decline."
The man's face twisted into a slow sneer as he worked out the dismissal.
"Whatever. Even used goods are more than that traitor deserves."
He spat on the ground at Spock's feet, tipping forward when the motion threw off his equilibrium.
"Hey." snapped a familiar voice from the mouth of the hall, accompanied by stomping footsteps and a fizzle of familiar anger that tinged the air. "The hell do you think you're doing, Wes?"
Leonard planted his feet and scowled at the commodore, effectively redirecting his ire.
"Lapdog to the rescue." he muttered, then stalked off with a withering look in Leonard's direction.
Once he was gone the doctor turned to Spock, a wary look about him.
"You okay?"
"I am...fine."
Leonard lowered his eyebrows slightly "You don't look fine."
"Fine has many definitions, doctor." Spock replied, leaning some of his weight back on the wall "I suppose, in this instance, it defines my state rather well."
Leonard seemed to want to say more, and Spock did not. Again, as was the norm with the doctor, what actually happened was quite contrary. Leonard remained quiet, and Spock found himself talking into the silence.
"...You know that Admiral Pike was not Jane's progenitor."
"Yeah." Leonard said, somewhat gruffly.
"Her other father is here."
"What?"
There was something about Leonard's reaction that cried for closer inspection, but the mental racket of the ball was too loud and Spock was suddenly very tired.
"It's a masquerade ball, Spock. How would you know it was him?"
"I am a telepath" Spock quipped, eyebrows high "and even disregarding that...he is not a man one forgets easily. I am surprised it took seeing him for me to know he was present."
Leonard was quiet, suspiciously so. Unwilling and unprepared to question it, Spock changed the subject.
"Might I inquire why you left the ballroom?"
"Are you ever going to stop being so formal?" Leonard replied, stalking forward and slapping a ball of fabric against his chest. "Got you these. I figured you had a reason to be playing the wallflower."
Spock took the so-kindly offered gift and stared at them. They were thin black gloves, seamless suede that would clasp at his wrists.
"I am not permitted to wear them."
Leonard rolled his eyes "Trust me, if the Admiral knew you weren't his fragile heart would break."
"But how will anyone know my status?"
"They won't."
Spock lifted his eyebrows at this, expecting further explanation and, because he knew the doctor, knowing none was coming.
"If you want to have sweaty make-outs with the brass you go right ahead-"
"No." Spock said quickly, setting the drink he had retrieved on a hallway table and slipping them on. He flexed his fingers, getting used to the feeling.
"What?" Bones asked gruffly.
"They are a bit snug."
Leonard bristled "Well, sorry they're not up to your standards, princess, but I didn't exactly have time to call a tailor."
"I do not recall gaining noble status in the past few hours, but your assumption is appreciated." Spock replied, pushing off the wall and retrieving his glass. It reminded him of the shield now covering his fingers. "Thank you, doctor." he said, quietly sincere "now if you don't mind, I would rather not leave Jane unattended for any more time."
Leonard scowled, but his lips twitched upwards at the edges.
"Oh you're going to have a great time when she hits thirteen."
It took considerable willpower for Spock to avoid searching the dancers for a comically large mask and captivating eyes when he walked back into the light, but he managed it.
"Jim!"
Jim blinked at the sudden change of lighting when Bones all but shoved him out onto an empty balcony.
"Bones, if you wanted to catch me alone all you had to do was-"
"Did you dance with Spock?!" he interrupted. Something about his expression made Jim's smile fall.
"I-" Jim frowned tightly "So what if I did? It's a masquerade ball."
"He recognized you, you idiot!" Bones hissed.
Jim tensed, feeling suddenly more sober.
"He couldn't have."
"He told me, word for word, that Jane's father was here. He knew, Jim."
Jim swallowed hard "He must've realized after."
Bones scowled "I highly doubt that. I think he knew from the moment he laid eyes on you."
"That's not possible, Bones! Why wouldn't he have said something if he knew me?"
"I don't know, why didn't you?"
"Because I'm a flawed individual with many emotional problems which, I might add, would be a non-issue for Spock. I thought we'd established this." Jim replied, trying for light. Bones gave him a hard look.
A terrifying thought wormed its way into Jim's head, bringing with it a burst of anxiety "Spock doesn't know I'm the host, does he?"
Bones sighed. "No, he hasn't connected you with 'the Admiral', though I found Commodore Wesley in the hall with him about to spill the beans - and from the look of it, give you the kind of reference that gets people blacklisted."
Jim breathed in relief and sank back against the balcony railing.
"Thanks, Bones." he flashed a weak smile, then rubbed a hand over his mouth.
Bones kept staring at him, frown fixed in place on his lips.
Jim looked up at the bars across the sky, again reveling in their irony. Past them it was a beautiful night, the stars bright in the dark indigo sky, the Milky Way cutting a blue wheel over their heads.
"It's nice out here. I think I'd like to stay for a while."
"I think you're depressed." Leonard said without ceremony.
Jim laughed lightly "I'm inclined to agree with you."
"Jim, I'm serious. You're not acting like yourself. Chekov called the other day-"
"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not talk about that."
"Damnit, man!" Bones said it so loud that Jim almost jumped "I thought that giving you time was the right thing, but now I'm starting to change my mind. You can't just hide from everything and expect it to go away - the world is bound to move on without you. Now, you've got men out there ready to throw away their lives for you-"
"That's exactly what I'm trying to avoid." Jim interrupted, his voice strong and harsh. Then he sighed and set down his glass on the flat top of the railing.
"Who is the highest ranking officer on a ship, Bones?"
Bones folded his arms "The Captain, obviously."
"Obviously." Jim repeated bitterly "The Captain, not a Rear Admiral."
Jim could feel Bones' stare drilling holes into the back of his head and turned to face him "Commanding a starship was my destiny, Bones. Now that's over, one way or another. I'm not meant to give orders from a corner office in San Francisco." He shook his head "I've lived my glory days. I want everyone to be able to continue their lives past this, let me fall into obscurity."
Bones stared at him for a good, long minute, either to be sure he was done or because he was trying to try to process what he was hearing or both. Then he dropped his hands and got right up in Jim's personal space.
"You think that's fair?" he started "You can't just decide when we should stop giving a damn what happens to you! You want to retire then fine, but don't expect us to stand by and watch you martyr yourself in a last ditch effort for glory!"
"Bones, you know that's not-!"
"No. If you get to be selfish, then I damn well do too. I'm going to that trial, Jim, and I'll throw myself on their alter just to spite you."
Bones' eyes held a dark kind of promise in them, sucking the fire out of Jim's righteous anger somehow even as he tried to summon it.
"And where the hell does Spock fall into all this? You think he'll be happy never getting to ask you where the hell you were on auction day? You think he's happy now, with you pulling your ghost act and leaving him jumping at shadows waiting for the other shoe to drop?"
Bones shoved away, eyes wild with rage "You need to get your shit together, Jim. Deal with it, or I'll do a poor job of dealing with it for you."
Jim blinked a few times rapidly, trying and failing to find a justification, a rebuttal that held any weight against Bones' clenched fists and imploring stare.
"I'm sorry, Bones." he said finally, weakly.
"That's a start." Bones snapped.
Jim deflated on a long exhale and turned back to the stars. They were a comfort, familiar and unchanging. Bones stayed quiet, as if it was Jim's turn to talk now. Finally, Jim lifted his glass to his lips and took a sip.
"Head back in. I'll be there in a few minutes."
Bones sighed, but did as he was bid. Just before he disappeared through the curtains Jim called after him.
"You shouldn't have followed me here. I'm not worth that kind of loyalty anymore."
Bones scoffed "Kid, I've been doing it so long I'm not sure I know how to do anything else."
Jim watched the stars twinkle at him for a few minutes after he left.
"He might be right." he told them. As always, they didn't reply. Jim downed the rest of his drink for courage before walking back into the light and racket of the ballroom.
The ball was winding down, the music slow and lazy as the orchestra played its last piece. The guests had thinned considerably and the ones that remained were wilting fast. Armed with surprisingly well-shielded gloves, Spock had returned to the floor without incident. There had been no more surprise run-ins with phantoms of the past, for which he could almost convince himself he was grateful. Scott and Ms. Rand were the only members of the original group left, Rand out of necessity and Scott due to his respectable stamina.
Spock may have abused the ambiguity he now possessed. He had immersed himself in conversation with scientists he had only read papers by, challenged principals and had his own challenged in turn. Some might have said he had enjoyed the night, had any of the people who knew him had the opportunity.
Now, however, he excused himself from the researchers who were, if anything, more awake now than they had been at the start (due he suspected to their usual late hours) to collect Jane.
It was quite easy to do. She was dozing lightly beside her friend on the chairs where he had seen her last.
"Jane." he said softly as he approached "I think it is time for us to be leaving."
Jane snapped awake for about a second to grab the boy's arm, then drooped again.
"Just a little longer, daddy?" she muttered.
"Any longer and you will undoubtedly be asleep." Spock replied, picking her up much to her chagrin.
"Tuvok."
Spock turned to find a vulcan woman addressing the boy. He woke much easier than Jane had but still appeared somewhat groggy. The woman lifted him up and nodded to Spock.
"It appears our children have enjoyed each other's company. If you are amenable, they could contact each other through subspace communication."
It took more than it should have for Spock to say more than 'yes.'
"I...realize that our station may not be obvious..." Spock began reluctantly, but the woman shook her head.
"I know very well what you are." she nodded to Jane "The humans may view them as commodities, but to vulcans, children such as these are sacred."
The woman looked at him, considering "You are one yourself, are you not?"
"I would not know." Spock replied "I was orphaned when I was very young."
"I see." she bowed her head slightly in sympathy "Well, the two of you must be something. I've never seen him this well-behaved for such a long time."
Then she smiled at him. Nothing a human might have noticed, but an emotion about the corners of her lips, and it was such a contrast to the blank faces and emotionless actions of the vulcans he'd seen in passing and the few he'd met that he found himself staring.
After a beat, she continued "I will leave my contact information with the master of the house. If he agrees, they can contact each other."
"I- thank you, my lady."
"T'Meni, please."
"Spock."
She nodded "If you do not mind my asking, she is...?"
"Three-quarters human." Spock provided.
T'Meni tilted her head just slightly "You are half?"
"I am."
"Fascinating. I was under the impression that such hybridization was impossible, especially those sparked into the world. Yet here you stand." she looked him over for another moment "Perhaps I will contact you at a later date. I have acquaintances who would be interested in how this came about."
"I assure you, there is no easy explanation." Spock said, trying to keep the wryness from his voice.
"I suppose there wouldn't be." With a bow, she began to turn away "If you'll excuse me, Spock, we must be going."
"And I as well. Live long and Prosper, T'Meni."
"Live long and prosper."