Twice Upon A Time Pt 2 or 4 (K/S)

[gilda_elise]

“Kirk here.” He was instantly awake, the sound of the intercom bringing him off the bed and to the desk.

“It’s McCoy, Jim. I wanted to let you know, Spock made it through okay. I just now got out of surgery. It was touch and go there for a while, but I think he’ll be all right.”

“You think?” Kirk couldn’t keep the impatience out of his voice.

“Something like this is never for sure, Jim. I’m reasonable sure he’ll make a full recovery, but I won’t whitewash it. He’s got a lot of healing to do.”

“Can I see him?”

“He’s not conscious, but if you insist, go ahead. I’ll be here for a while yet.”

“I’m on my way. Kirk out.” He threw on a clean uniform and headed for sickbay. When he got there, McCoy was in his office, his feet propped up on the desk, his eyes closed.

“Bones?” Kirk slid into the chair across from McCoy.

“God, I’m tired.” McCoy pulled his legs down and sat up. “There was only minimal brain damage. He’ll have some killer headaches off and on for a while, so his concentration won’t be what it was. That’ll pass though. The one thing I am worried about is his telepathy.”

“Explain.”

“It’s the area where the damage was done. Mainly his ability to meld with someone. That, plus he won’t be able to use a healing trance on himself. But everything I’ve read makes me think it’ll only be temporary. It’s how he’ll deal with it that bothers me.”

“Why? If he knows it’s only a temporary problem...”

McCoy waved his hand in exasperation. “You know Spock. He’ll see it as a sign that he’s not Vulcan enough. Put him on the same level as us lowly humans.”

Kirk frowned. “I think you’re wrong about him, Bones.”

“Maybe. If I am, great. Anyway, other than that, all he has to do is rest. And I mean rest. I don’t want to see him on duty for at least two weeks. I don’t care if you have to tie him down, I don’t want to see him on the bridge or in the science labs. You hear?”

“I got you, Bones.” Kirk rose. “Can I see him now?”

“Don’t stay too long. He’s pretty much out of it.” McCoy got up and stretched. “As for me, I’m to bed. Chapel will call me if anything comes up.”

Kirk walked to the back and let himself into the small room. The lights had been lowered and the heat raised to a setting only a Vulcan could love. He gazed at his first officer, wondering who could hate the man so much to do such a thing. It bothered him, a lot. And that bothered him, too. He barely knew Spock. Their friendship was so new. He had been delighted at the way Spock was opening up to him, the camaraderie that was blossoming between them. But he had this...attraction to Spock he couldn’t explain. Okay, the man was an intellectual giant, loyal to a fault, brave, and the best first officer in the fleet. Yet beneath all that, Kirk knew, lived a passionate soul waiting to be let free.

“Is that what it is, my friend?” Kirk whispered, “Do I have the audacity to think that I can even charm a Vulcan?”

There was no answer.

* * *

Mitchell hunched over his station, nursing a headache. He’d noticed them recently, appearing suddenly, and then disappearing just as fast.

“Bridge, navigation.” Kirk’s voice came over the intercom.

“Bridge, navigation.” Mitchell answered his captain’s call. Kirk had left with Mr. Spock in tow, obviously angry, two hours before. Maybe the Vulcan was finally getting what he deserved.

“Mr. Mitchell, lay in a course for Vulcan. Tell engineering I want warp eight or better. Push her for all she’ll take.”

“Jim, you’ve got to be kidding?!” Mitchell responded, angerly.

“Mister Mitchell, I gave you an order. I expect you to carry it out.” Kirk’s tone was cold, but Mitchell knew from past experience that it could explode into a blistering heat.

“Yes, sir.” He cut off the intercom and laid in the course back to Vulcan, jabbing at the controls. When he had reported to Kirk the change in course ordered by Spock, this wasn’t the outcome he’d had in mind.

“I wonder what’s going on,” Sulu spoke up beside him.

“Beats me. Whatever it is, the captain’s going to be up to his neck in hot water. We’re supposed to get to Altair asap.”

“Maybe it has to do with Mr. Spock’s injury,” The helmsman mused. “He hasn’t looked too well ever since that knock on the head he took a few weeks ago.”

“Yeah, maybe. Must be nice to have the entire ship at your beck and call,” Mitchell groused.

“I don’t know. It would have to be really serious for Mr. Spock to even ask. He just isn’t that way.”

“How would you know? That Vulcan doesn’t hardly speak to any of us away from duty.”

Sulu shrugged, “He’s always been fair with me. And while you, McCoy, and the captain were on Capella Four, he was calling up here from his cabin, helping Mr. Scott as much as he could. That was right after he had been attacked and he was still in a lot of pain. Anyone who would do that, put other’s welfare in front of his own, well, that person’s all right with me.”

Mitchell didn’t answer. He remembered being stuck on that primitive planet, running from the natives with that pregnant bitch on their hands. He didn’t want to hear that their making it out in one piece might have anything to do with the Vulcan.

* * *

In sickbay, McCoy pulled out a bottle of brandy as Kirk settled into his chair. The doctor poured them both a generous amount and then joined his captain at his desk.

“Thanks.” Kirk took a sip, and nodded his appreciation.

McCoy just shook his head. “I don’t know, Jim. I think this is a big mistake.”

“What? Saving Spock’s life? You said it yourself. If we don’t get him to Vulcan, he’s going to die. I can’t let that happen.”

“I know, but at what cost? You could lose the ship, hell, your career, for someone who probably wouldn’t lift a finger if it was you.”

“I don’t believe that. I know you don’t like the man, but we’re talking about his life.”

“Are we? Or are we talking about your irrational fixation with him?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Kirk abruptly sat forward.

“I’m talking about you constantly going out of your way to...I don’t know, make contact with him. He doesn’t want your friendship, Jim. Why do you keep banging your head against a brick wall?”

Kirk leaned back, rubbing his forehead. “I’m not. He was responding to me, Bones, before he was attacked. Since then...”

“He’s crawled back into his shell, hasn’t he?”

“Yeah. But this time, he has a good reason.”

“Because someone tried to kill him? Why shut you out for something someone else did?”

Kirk shrugged. Spock had been acting strangely the last few weeks, but it didn’t have anything to do with the attack. But he couldn’t tell McCoy what Spock had finally admitted to him. How do Vulcan’s chose their mate? He could still hear Spock’s whispered confession. He had dragged it out of him, pushing with everything he had, until the Vulcan told him what he needed to know. But what happened now? How would Spock react when he returned from his home world?

He took another sip of the potent liquor. “How is he, really?”

“You mean from the attack? I thought okay. His headaches were lessening, and he was slowly gaining back his strength. The only thing was that his ability to meld hadn’t been coming back as fast as I would have hoped. That really seemed to concern him. But I wonder, did his head injury have anything to do with what’s happening to him now?”

“What do you mean? How could one thing have anything to do with the other?”

“It’d be quite a coincidence if it didn’t, don’t you think?”

It was a thought, but Kirk doubted it. It was all just bad timing as far as he could see. “I don’t know, Bones. I just want the whole thing over with. Once we drop him off, we’ll head for Altair Six. I just hope I’m still in command of the ship when he’s ready to come back.”

* * *

Kirk sat in his darkened cabin, his elbows propped on his desk, a stargram clenched in one fist, a drink in the other. He lay the shot glass against his forehead, and tried to wrap his mind around the news he’d just received. Death had followed him, but once again had taking those around him, missing him completely. He put the glass down and poured out another shot, the liquor splashing over the side of the glass.

He placed the note on the spilt liquid, and watched as it soaked into the paper, blurring the words. He closed his eyes. You were supposed to be safe at home, the dangers of space travel unable to touch you there. How could things have gone so wrong?

He lifted his head at the sound of someone buzzing for entrance.

“Come.”

The door opened and Spock walked up to the desk. It was the first time he had seen him alone since the Vulcan had rejoined the ship three days before.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Spock?”

Spock looked down and swallowed nervously. “Dr. McCoy has informed me of the passing of your brother and his family. I grieve with thee.” The last words were said in the style of a ritual.

Kirk stared at him for a moment. “Oh. Thank you, Mr. Spock. Was that all?”

The Vulcan pressed his lips together, obviously at a loss at how to proceed. “And to...thank you for allowing me to take my leave on my home planet.”

“I thought thanks were illogical. Never mind.” He waved his hand. “Take a seat, Mr. Spock. Stay a while.”

Spock sat in the chair in front of the desk, nervously glancing at the bottle of whiskey. “You have been drinking.”

“You’re damn right I have. What’s the matter, Mr. Spock? Am I being too human for you?” Kirk slugged down the drink and started to pour another. He looked at the Vulcan in surprise when Spock gently lay his hand on Kirk’s arm.

“Please, do not do this.”

“Why not? Because you don’t approve?”

“No, because I am...your friend, and I wish to help.” Spock pulled his hand away, and tightly clenched it with its partner in his lap, “It is difficult for me to know how to respond to emotional situations. But you have proved to be worth making the effort for. You have done things for me that no other has ever thought to do. I...do not wish to lose what has grown between us. If I have acted improperly since my return, I deeply regret it.”

Kirk slowly put the bottle down and shoved the glass to the side. “Thank you. You don’t know how glad I am to hear you say that, how much I needed to hear you say it.” He tilted his head and studied the Vulcan. “And you? How are you doing?”

“I am...well. The imbalance in my system has been dealt with. There should not be a reoccurrence.”

“I’m glad. I was afraid you weren’t coming back. When I received the message from Vulcan, from T’Pau of all people, I figured that you had decided to stay there.” Kirk laughed softly, “Instead, I got my career back. Was that your doing?”

“Perhaps indirectly. T’Pau is my father’s mother. When she learned that you would be punished for your part in saving my life, she took steps to insure that would not happen.”

Kirk leaned back, the pain of his loss receding slightly within the glow of his new friendship. “Family is a funny thing, isn’t it?”

Spock looked at him, perplexed. “I do not understand.”

“You can go years without seeing any of them, but the connection stays with you your entire life. I hadn’t seem Sam, my brother, for a couple of years. We were really close as boys, but as the years passed we started to drift apart. Before you got here, I was wondering how his death could affect me so much when his life hadn’t anymore?”

“As you say, there is a permanent connection. I too, am not close to my family. It had been several years since my last visit to Vulcan.”

Kirk’s eyes darkened. “It was supposed to be us, Spock. Our orders had been to go to Deneva when we were diverted to Epsilon Canaris Three because Commissioner Hedford insisted that her illness be made top priority. What would it be like? To be responsible for the deaths of two million people? They say Matt Decker has gone over the edge because of it. But what if it had been me who had to give the order?”

“You do not know what you would have done in his place. Things could have worked out much differently. It is illogical to worry about what might have been.”

“You’re right, I know you’re right.” He got up and walked over to sit on the edge of the desk, and placed his hand on Spock’s shoulder. “I’m really glad your back. The ship wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

Spock gazed directly at the human, seeming to look deep into Kirk’s soul. “My life is here now, as is yours. Perhaps it is time to build on these new ties, to replace the ones we have lost.”

Kirk nodded his head. “Yes, perhaps it is.”

* * *

Mitchell tightened the pack on the security man’s back, then turned to have his own secured. As he did, the doors to the transporter room flew open. He grimaced as he watched the captain and Mr. Spock walk in, their attention focused on each other. Kirk was grinning, somehow finding amusement in something the Vulcan said.

“Everything set, Scotty?” Kirk asked as he shrugged into his own pack, his science officer already helping to adjust it.

“The transponder signals are keyed in. There should na be any problem on this end. If ye run into trouble, just turn on the beacon and we’ll home in on it.” The Scot stood behind the consol, his hands resting on the controls.

“What’s with the beacon?” Mitchell asked.

“Gamma Seginus II is noted for the interference caused by its upper atmosphere on standard transmitting equipment. Our communicators will be useless. Unless contacted, the Enterprise will not beam us back on board for four days. At that time they will use the coordinates received from the transponders,” The science officer responded.

“Great. How come just the four of us?”

“That is all that is deemed necessary.” Spock’s brief response annoyed Mitchell almost as much as the Vulcan’s almost protective stance next to the captain.

“Well, what if we run into something we can’t handle?” Mitchell rubbed at his arm, the transponder implanted by McCoy inching slightly.

“There is almost no life on the planet. Why that is, is what the original expedition was attempting to ascertain. Since there is no indigenous life forms other than the vegetation, there should be nothing there that we cannot ‘handle.’”

“We’ll be okay,” Kirk interjected. “Come on. It’s time to go.”

The four men took their places on the transporter platform. Taking along their own shelter and food, the men would investigate the disappearance of the outpost members sent six months before. The last contact had been three weeks earlier.

Beamed down to the planet surface, the men quickly set up camp. Night was already falling, and the temperature was dropping rapidly.

Mitchell walked over to where Kirk was setting up the beacon. The captain was down on one knee, trying to secure the apparatus to a nearby boulder.

“Think Saunders will mind bunking with the Vulcan?”

Kirk stood up, brushing the dirt from his hands. “Saunders will do as he’s told. But don’t worry, Gary. I’m bunking with Spock.”

“For Pete’s sake, Jim. You don’t have to babysit him every time he comes along.”

Kirk looked at him strangely. “I think you need to get one thing straight, Gary. I’m not going to allow any problem you have with Spock to interfere with how I run my ship. I will assign crew as I see fit, whether they like the arrangements or not. If you have a problem with that...”

Mitchell was angry now, and it overroad the common sense that should have told him that his captain was through handling him with kid gloves. “I know it’s your ship. But it seems like you’re always giving preference to that green-blooded son-of-”

“That’s enough, Mr. Mitchell. I don’t ever want to hear you speak disparagingly of Mr. Spock, again. If I do, you’ll find yourself on report so fast you’re head will spin. I won’t stand for insubordination. Against me, or my first officer. Am I making myself perfectly clear?”

“Sure. Sure, Captain Kirk, whatever you say,” Mitchell tone was belligerent, but he closed his mouth on whatever else he felt like saying.

Kirk walked off without another word. Straight to the Vulcan, Mitchell noticed. He had been right, all along. That half-human freak had first tried to destroy him, and when that didn’t work, was trying to take his best friend away. That, he wouldn’t stand for. He had to find a way to make Kirk see the Vulcan for what he really was, a conniving manipulator, out to catch the captain in his web of lies and deceit.

By the time he got to the tent he was to share with Saunders, Mitchell’s anger had cooled to a steady blaze. He barely noticed the cold as he finished setting up his gear. Saunders was already inside, and had set the small heater to its highest setting. Mitchell threw off his clothes, and crawled into his sleeping bag.

The night was unnaturally quiet since there was no life to break the silence. Mitchell could here the soft snoring of the man across the tent, dead to the world almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. But Mitchell couldn’t sleep. He was still too keyed up over his fight with Kirk to do more than toss and turn. So when sounds filtered over from the other tent, he propped himself up on his elbows and strained to hear more. Their light was still on, and Mitchell could make out the forms of the two men, sitting across from each other.

They were talking, but the words were indistinct. What wasn’t, was the tone of Kirk’s voice. He sounded almost carefree, as if the weight of command had been lifted from him for a time. Every so often, he would laugh, and every laugh cut into Mitchell like a dull knife. Spock was winning. He was seducing Kirk to his side, changing the man into a puppet to be used for his own purposes. Eventually, the sounds stopped and the light went out.

* * *

Kirk woke early, not sure if the cause was the hard surface beneath him that his sleeping bag did little to ease, or his normal impatience to get started, but the sun was barely beginning to light up the campsite when he opened his eyes. He lay quietly. He and Spock had talked for some time the night before, and he didn’t want to disturb the Vulcan’s sleep.

Kirk positioned himself on his side, propping himself up on one elbow to bring his friend into view. Spock was flat on his back, but his head was turned towards Kirk. It gave the human a feeling of satisfaction to know that this oh-so-private man had finally opened himself to him. What would have been a sobering mission, had become a shared adventure.

He still didn’t quite understand his attraction to the Vulcan. He had met one or two men over the years who had tempted him into considering a homosexual relationship. But for whatever reason, he had never gone through with it. For the first time, he knew that given the opportunity, he would.

He gazed at his sleeping friend, Friend, yes, you are finally my friend, and wondered if Spock would ever consider such a thing. He knew next to nothing about Vulcan sexual mores, and even less about Spock’s. If he had any expectations of anything ever happening, he knew he’d have to go slow, let Spock set the pace of the relationship.

His only concern was the woman he had seen for only a few moments as her image was transmitted to the ship. T’Pring. Was she Spock’s wife? He had said so that day, but on his return had never mentioned her again. But Kirk had pulled up Spock’s records just days ago. The Vulcan was still listed as single, his parents his beneficiaries. But how did he find out for sure? He sighed and laid back down.

He must have been making more noise than he thought, because at that moment Spock sat up, pulling his sleeping bag up around his shoulders, “Captain? Is something amiss?”

“’Jim’, Spock. You promised to call me ‘Jim’ when we were alone, or off duty, remember?”

The Vulcan ducked his head, and looked hesitantly up at his captain. “Very well...Jim.”

“That’s better, and no, nothing’s wrong. I was just contemplating getting up and going out into that cold.” Kirk pulled the sleeping bag more tightly around him.

“It is still thirty-five minutes until dawn. If you wish to sleep, I will wake you then.”

“That’s okay. I’m not sleepy anymore. I guess we should get up and get things started.”

The two men swiftly dressed, and then went outside to start preparations for the day. Kirk smiled in pleasure when he noticed how in tune they seemed to be. As if we can read each other’s minds. He shook his head and laughed ruefully.

Spock turned to him, an eyebrow on the rise.

“Nothing, Spock. Just a stray thought.” Kirk turned toward the other tent. “But I think it’s time the rest of this party joined us.”

Kirk walked over and woke the two men. He noticed that Mitchell looked like he hadn’t slept well, and it occurred to him that he was beginning to not trust his friend. Why else would the first thing to come to mind be to wonder what the man had been up to that he hadn’t slept? His friend’s behavior was starting to bother him.

But was it really that simple? Or did it have more to do with the fact that Mitchell didn’t like Spock anymore? He had when Kirk first took command, Kirk could have sworn to that. When had it changed? And why? As far back as he could remember, Mitchell had always been manipulative to a certain degree, with a propensity for being somewhat callous. It had never bothered him before. But now it was aimed at the man Kirk wanted as his lover. Finally, with a mental shake, he pushed the whole thing to the back of his mind. He had other things to worry about right now, mainly, what had happened to the scientists sent here six months ago?

* * *

“Find something, Mr. Spock?” Kirk walked over to his science officer who was down on one knee, carefully pulling free the scrap of cloth caught within a small bush. The plant seemed to give at the slightest pressure, making it difficult to extricate the material.

Finally getting it free, Spock turned his tricorder on and began taking readings. “Silk, Captain. Probably from a coat lining. There are traces of cotton stiching along one side.” He rose and handed the scrap of material to Kirk.

“So. Pieces of different parts of the expedition’s supplies and clothing...but no people.” He looked around at the barren landscape. He and Spock had covered a lot of ground surrounding what was the expedition’s last known camp site. As the day had progressed, the hope that they would find any of the expedition members still alive, slowly died.

“There does seem to be some type of biological readings a hundred meters in that direction.” Spock pointed to the left.

The two men followed the readings, finally entering a path cut into the hills that surrounded the area. The narrow valley was studded with a series caves of various sizes and depths. They were about to investigate one of the deeper ones when they spied a dark stain smeared along the wall of the canyon. The Vulcan ran his tricorder across it, only to bring the instument down after one pass. “Blood. Human blood, and of recent application.”

“One of the scientists?” Kirk studied the rock face.

“Highly probable. Though whatever did this, would have to have immense strength. There are tiny particles of skin and bone inbedded in the rock.”

Kirk blanched and turned away. “Come on. Let’s hook back up with Mitchell and Saunders. See if they’ve seen anything else.”

They found the other two men trying to pry loose a piece of metal that jutted out from the ground. When they finally managed to free it, it turned out to be part of a portable heater. They carried it back to camp, along with several other items they had found. Altogether, it painted a dismal picture.

“Now what?” Mitchell sat on a boulder next to the small stove while Kirk poured himself a cup of coffee.

“We try again tomorrow.” Kirk walked over to one of the small folding chairs and sat down. “There’s got to be something more. Even if the blood is from one of the scientists, where are all the others? Spock?” He turned to the Vulcan, who was sitting on the ground examining what they had found.

“Unknown. But then, we also do not know what happened to the original inhabitants of this planet. Earlier readings show signs of an advanced civilization...and a disruption of the planet’s natural rotation.”

“Are you saying there’s a connection?”

“No, I do not have enough evidence to put forth a hypothesis. I merely stated a fact.”

“Well, gentlemen. We’ve got three more days to try and figure out what happened. I suggest we put it to good use. In the morning, we split up again. Mitchell, you and Saunders head toward the mountain range south of the camp site. The readings indicated a small valley in that direction. Spock, you and I will check out those caves we found.”

The Vulcan nodded, and returned to his work, while Mitchell helped Saunders pack up the supplies to be stored in the tents at night.

Kirk sipped his coffee, replaying everything they had learned that day. He was pretty sure the six men were dead. Even if they had survived whatever destroyed their campsite, without food or water they wouldn’t have lasted more than a few days. There was nothing to eat on this god-forsaken planet, the only life a few various forms of vegetation, none edible. And Spock had already identified one of the pieces of twisted metal as part of a water purifier.

His gaze slid to his science officer, who was completely engrossed in his work. If anyone could figure out what happened here, it’s Spock. He realizing how much he had come to trust and depend on his friend. They were a good team. Was it any wonder that he now wanted more?

* * *

They both woke with a start, the flapping tent loudly signaling its distress.

“What the hell’s going on?” Kirk hurriedly dressed, pulling his jacket on and exiting only seconds behind Spock.

The storm had blown in without warning, and the sky to the north looked like something out of a nightmare. Boiling clouds, tinged gray with the soil of the planet, moved toward them at a frightening pace.

“Captain, I believe it would be prudent to seek shelter elsewhere. The tents were not designed to withstand winds of such velocity.” Spock was having to shout as the howling grew louder.

“Get as much gear as you can gather. We’ll head for the caves we saw this morning.” Kirk motioned south, toward the expedition’s former site. Mitchell and Saunders had scurried out of their tent, and the four men began to quickly gather their supplies.

“Why don’t you signal the ship?” Mitchell yelled as he hurried along, gathering what he could.

“There’s no time. The ship isn’t within transporter range right now. Come on, we better get going.” Kirk shouted. It was getting harder to fight the winds, and they were beginning to be pelted by small rocks carried along by the storm.

They ran for the caves, but were slowed by the burden of their equipment. Packed correctly, it wouldn’t have been a problem. But the bundles that each man carried were bulky, the added weight making it difficult to manuveur. And the storm was intensifying.

Kirk could barely make out the man in front of him. He reached out and grabbed an arm. “Everyone link up.” The winds were threatening to divide them as they made their way forward. Less than half way there, Kirk felt a shock of pain in his right leg, and fell to his knees with a cry. A piece of metal, at least a foot long, stuck out of his thigh, embedded deeply into his flesh.

Mitchell reached out and grabbed the intrusion, but let go at Kirk’s moan of pain. “Jim, it has to come out.”

Kirk stumbled to his feet, “Not here,” He panted, the pain making speech difficult. “Wait until we get to the cave.”

They started forward, slowed even more by the captain’s injury. They could barely see each other, their hold on each other’s arms the only proof that each was not alone in a world of wind and dust.

Kirk didn’t know if he was going to make it. He could feel blood trickle freely down his leg, and each step was a jolt of agony. Spock grabbed him, holding him up, and he wouldn’t have been at all surprised if his friend could feel him shaking. It seemed they would never get there, and his world narrowed down to the fire in his leg, and the reality of the Vulcan leading them onward.

He didn’t remember most of the journey. The next thing he knew, he was lying on the ground, Spock kneeling beside him. It was quiet.

“Where are we?” Kirk gasped, any movement bringing excruciating pain.

“In the cave, approximately thirty meters from the entrance,” Spock gently tore at the material of Kirk’s pants, stopping whenever Kirk tensed.

Mitchell stood to the side, his face closed. “We barely made it...most of us, anyway.”

“What’s he talking about?” Kirk hung on to Spock’s shoulder as the Vulcan continued to clear the wound area. His fingers dug into the first officer’s warm flesh and he moaned in pain when Spock took hold of the metal intrusion.

“We lost Saunders,” Spock answered, and then placed his other hand on Kirk’s chest. “It must come out, Jim.”

Kirk kept hold of the Vulcan, and with the other hand, grabbed onto the blanket on which they had placed him. “Go ahead.”

With a quick tug, Spock pulled the shaft from Kirk’s leg. Agony ripped through him, and the scream that escaped his lips reverberated through the cave as he arched up off the floor. He fell back, unconscious.

* * *

Mitchell looked on as the Vulcan finished dressing the wound. Spock had used strips made from Kirk’s pant leg to bind it. They had lost the medical kit and most of the food with Saunders.

“Will he be okay?” Mitchell didn’t like the idea of the captain’s well-being being solely in the hands of the Vulcan, but he had little choice in the matter. His own first-aid skills were sadly lacking, and he didn’t think Spock would let him near, anyway. He was hovering over Kirk, touching him more than Mitchell thought he needed to.

“As long as the wound does not become infected. He does not seem to have lost as much blood as I had originally feared. But he must be kept warm.” Spock pulled the sleeping bag over the unconscious man and tucked it snugly around him. He got up and started going through their provisions. Finding one of the phasers, he used it to heat up a few of the large boulders on the floor of the cave.

“I guess we know what happened to the original expedition now.” Mitchell turned and began sorting out the equipment. The water purifier was still in working order, and they had enough food to last the three days before the lack of a signal would cause their automatic beam-up to the ship. Blankets were plentiful, but that was about it.

“Indeed. They were probably caught off guard, as we were. They must have been aware of the caves, but were unable to make them in time.” Spock placed his sleeping bag next to Kirk and sat down. “I will take first watch. One of us will have to remain awake at all times until we know the captain will be all right.”

Mitchell nodded and, setting up his own bedding, curled up under the blankets. He stared, disturbed at the way the Vulcan was watching over Kirk. There was something not right about it. This was more than one friend caring for the other. It was like the Vulcan thought he owned Kirk, the look proprietary. When Spock’s hand came up to slowly caress Kirk’s head, running his finger’s through the captain’s hair, Mitchell felt like getting up and hitting him. Spock was trying to steal his friend, turn Kirk away from him. The Vulcan would find out that there was no way Mitchell was going to allow that.

He closed his eyes completely, and gave himself up to sleep.

* * *

Kirk moaned and reluctantly opened his eyes. “Spock?” He whispered, the dark head above him blurred.

“No, it’s Gary.” Mitchell sat cross-legged next to him, cradling a cup of broth in his hands.

“Is that for me?” Kirk smiled weakly and tried to sit up. He groaned and sank back down as his leg throbbed in protest.

“Let me help you.” Mitchell put down the bowl and help Kirk to a sitting position.

“Where’s Spock?” Kirk asked as he tried to get comfortable. He took the bowl Mitchell offered him, and after a hesitant smell, took a small sip. “You make this?”

“Uh uh. Spock did before he took off to try to find some more of our supplies.”

“He shouldn’t have done that. That storm came out of nowhere. It could just as easily happen again.”

“That’s his problem,” Mitchell sneered.

Kirk stared hard at his friend. “I don’t ever want to hear you talk like that again. I don’t know what your problem with Spock is, and at this point, I really don’t care. But I’m warning you, Gary. You’d better put an end to it...fast.”

“Sure, Jim. Whatever you say.” The smile Mitchell gave him should have set off alarms, but the pain in his leg was becoming an agony he couldn’t ignore.

Kirk put the bowl down after only a couple of more swallows. It wasn’t sitting right, making him nauseous...and his leg throbbed painfully, the bandages cutting into him. “Can you loosen this?” He tried moving his leg, but stopped with a gasp of pain.

“Don’t move. It’s going to hurt enough as it is.” Mitchell pulled out his pocket knife and began cutting at the wrapping.

“Hurry,” Kirk whispered through gritted teeth. Sweat popped out on his brow and he tensed with each tug of the knife. Finally, the bandages pulled free, releasing a gush of blood and a slightly fetid smell.

Mitchell grimaced and pulled back. “I think it’s infected.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Kirk examined his wound. It gaped at least two inches across, and the tell-tale red lines of infection radiated from its edges. He leaned back, his lips compressing together. It hurt like hell. He wished Spock would hurry back. He’d feel better, just knowing the Vulcan was near, even if there wasn’t anything he could do.

He must have dosed, because the next time he opened his eyes, Spock sat at his side, trying to carefully examine the wound. “Am I going to live?” Kirk weakly joked.

Spock frowned. “Do not say such things, even in jest.”

“Sorry. So what do you think?”

“Jim...it is going to have to be sterilized. The infection is spreading, and the Enterprise will not beam us back for at least forty-eight hours.”

“How are you going to do that?” Kirk watched the Vulcan’s face, a sinking feeling growing in the pit of his stomach.

“A heated knife could be used...but it will be extremely painful.”

“I really don’t have any other choice, do I?” Kirk asked, dreading the coming ordeal.

“In fact, you do,” Spock answered, hesitantly. The Vulcan looked down, and then into his eyes. There was fear in the dark orbs, as if Spock expected to be struck, or rejected somehow.

“What? What are you talking about?” He looked at Spock, and then up at Mitchell, who had moved closer at the Vulcan’s pronouncement.

Spock swallowed. “Do you remember the procedure I used to obtain the information from Dr. Van Gelder?”

Kirk nodded, “The mind meld. But how...”

“I could initiate a light meld. In that way, I could channel your pain away. You would feel nothing.”

Mitchell came forward, pushing Spock back as he planted himself between Kirk and the Vulcan. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to let you take over his mind!”

“Gary, stop it!” Kirk tried to move him out of the way, but the man was too close and he didn’t have the leverage, much less the strength. “Mr. Mitchell, I’m ordering you...” He put ever ounce of authority he had in his voice. It worked.

The other human faltered, looking from Kirk to the Vulcan still sprawled on his back. “Don’t even think it, Mister,” Mitchell hissed before moving away.

“Spock. Spock, come here.” Kirk reached out and grabbed the Vulcan’s arm, helping him back into a sitting position. “Now, tell me what this means, our melding. What would happen?”

Spock sat up and looked intently at Kirk. Seeming to come to a decision, he responded, “Our minds would join, but only on the surface. I could not read your thoughts, or you mine, though we would be able to ‘feel’ what the other felt. It would last only long enough for me to treat your injury.”

“I thought you couldn’t meld, because of the blow to your head.”

“It has healed sufficiently for me to attempt this. I assure you, Captain, it is perfectly safe for both of us.”

Kirk stared back at his friend, and then nodded. “Do it.”

Mitchell started forward.“Jim, you can’t-”

Stay out of this, Gary.” He turned back to Spock. “Do it, Spock.”

“Very well.” The Vulcan turned and sliding down, lay next to Kirk, propping himself up on one elbow. He brought his other hand up and gently spread it across the human’s face.

Kirk stilled as tendrils of thought flowed into his mind. It felt wonderful, like they were floating. He and Spock, alone together in an infinite forever. Somewhere he could hear the Vulcan speaking, my mind to yours echoing in the mental world created by the two of them. They were one, but not. As if through a mist, he saw Spock remove his hand and turn to work on his leg.

Spock heated the knife, and then begin to cut into the gaping wound. Kirk tensed in pain that never reached him, the Vulcan’s strong mind acting as a shield. So he relaxed into the sensations bombarding him, trying to sort through the feelings he was picking up from his friend. There was trust and affection, built over the long months of their blossoming friendship. And there was something more, something Kirk knew Spock was trying to keep from him.

But if he was picking up all this from Spock, what was Spock picking up from him? At that moment, he didn’t care. The future would take care of itself.

All too soon, he felt the Vulcan’s mind slipping from his, Don’t leave, Spock. Don’t take this away from me. He tried to hold on, but he didn’t know how. Didn’t know how to keep Spock forever with him...but he would learn.

Kirk opened his eyes. The Vulcan lay next to him, asleep. Spock’s face was pale, and showed the strain of his efforts. Kirk looked down at his leg. The wound had been rebandaged, the strips of cloth clean and blood-free. The leg ached slightly, but he knew it would be all right now.

A rustling noise drew his attention across the expanse. Mitchell sat on the far side of the cave, his gazed locked on the Vulcan. One hand rested on the back of his neck, slowly massaging into his hair.

“Gary?” Kirk’s call snapped Mitchell out of his fixation.

“Yeah, Jim?” He turned to Kirk, a strange, yet oddly familiar look in his eyes.

“Nothing. I’m going to sleep now. You should, too. We all need the rest.”

Mitchell nodded and closed his eyes, but remained sitting, his back resting against the cave wall.

Kirk studied his friend for a moment. With a sigh, he turned and grabbed the blanket pushed to one side and covered himself and Spock with it. With one last look at the Vulcan, he snuggled down into the bedding. Within minutes, he was asleep.

* * *

Kirk woke with a start, instantly awake. The spot next to him was empty. He sat up, taken by a momentary light-headedness before finally pulling himself to his feet. He hesitantly put weight on his injured leg, but found that most of the pain was gone. He slowly limped over to the mouth of the cave and found Spock sitting on a large boulder just within the entrance.

“What’s going on?” He motioned the Vulcan over and sat next to him.

“Mr. Mitchell has apparently decided to inspect our surroundings. He was gone when I awoke. I did not wish to leave you alone, however.” He turned and looked at Kirk, “How do you feel?”

“The leg’s much better. Thanks.” Kirk gazed at the Vulcan, taken by the beauty of the man. Spock was looking at him in a way he never had before, and there was an air of expectancy between them. He could feel himself start to respond, his organ begin to fill. He looked away, clearing his throat. “Do you know how long he’s been gone?”

“It could not have been long. I woke less than forty minutes before, and he was still here. Do you think I should attempt to ascertain his whereabouts?”

Kirk frowned, then shook his head, “No, give him another twenty minutes. If he doesn’t show up by then...damn, I didn’t want anyone wandering around out there. There’s no telling when another storm could blow in.”

“Indeed. We were most fortunate to be aware of the caves. If we had not been, none of us would have survived.”

“If last night was any indication, it’s no wonder there’s barely any life on this planet. You figure that’s what killed the original inhabitants?”

“I would say so, though we will probably never know for sure. Whether by some cosmic occurrence, or something they brought on themselves, the planet’s rotational shift has caused the weather patterns to which we were subjected. There is no telling what else could occur.”

Kirk didn’t even want to think about that. All he could think about was being close to his friend, what they had shared. He hesitated, unsure of what it was he really wanted to know. “Spock...about the meld...”

“Yes, Captain?” Spock sounded calm, almost light-hearted, as he gazed into Kirk’s eyes.

He felt like he could drown in those eyes. He could feel himself drawing nearer, leaning toward the man at his side. In the silence no words were needed, and he was bringing his hand up to caress Spock’s cheek when the Vulcan stiffened and pulled away. “Mr. Mitchell has returned.”

Kirk turned to see Mitchell walking toward them. He was looking down, his shoulder’s slightly slumped.

“Where did you go?” Kirk tried to control his anger, not sure what had bothered him more...Mitchell’s little trip without authorization, or his ill-timed return.

“I thought I’d try and find Saunders. Remember him?” Mitchell sneered.

“Though I would wish otherwise, there is little chance that he could have survived the storm unprotected,” Spock said.

“That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.” The navigator was belligerent as he stepped toward the Vulcan.

Kirk stood, placing himself between the two men. “That’s enough, Mr. Mitchell. I think your time would be better spent setting up the water purifier. We’re going to need it.”

Mitchell glared at Spock, but finally backed down and without a word re-entered the cave.

“Mr. Mitchell does not care for my company, “Spock said, his tone slightly ironic.

Kirk shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t care what Mr. Mitchell likes or doesn’t like.” He turned and placed his hand on the Vulcan’s shoulder. “I like your company just fine.”

* * *

The next two days passed without event. But it was with heartfelt relief that Kirk heard the sound of the transporter as they were taken back up to the ship. They materialized in the transporter room, three dirty, tired men...and one almost unrecognizable transponder.

“What happened?” McCoy came up to the platform, his medical tricorder already out and running.

“Some kind of freak storm. It came up on us fast. We barely had time to make it to a near-by cave. Saunders must have fallen behind.” Kirk wearily stepped down, wincing as he tried to put weight on his injured leg.

“I better take a look at that,” McCoy took Kirk’s arm and helped him down. “In fact, I want all three of you in sickbay. You all look like something the cat dragged in.”

Kirk weakly laughed and allowed the doctor to lead him out of the room. Once in the corridor he started to stumble, and Spock was suddenly there, holding his other arm.

McCoy gave a surprised look, but said nothing.

Once in sickbay, the doctor settled them all on the beds. When it was obvious to him that there was nothing wrong with Spock or Mitchell, he released them. Mitchell wasted no time leaving, but Spock had not made the door before he was stopped short.

“Not so fast, Mister.” Kirk came up on his elbows.

“Is something amiss, Captain?” Spock walked over to Kirk’s bedside, an innocent look on his face.

“You wait for the security guards to get here.” Kirk leaned over and briskly called for two to report to sickbay.

“Captain...”

“No, Spock.” He stared down his first officer, until Spock sighed in defeat. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, so just get used to it.”

The Vulcan looked at him for a moment and then gave what Kirk could have sworn was a small smile. “Very well, Captain. May I wait for my ‘guards’ in the Doctor’s office? I wish to download the information from my tricorder as soon as possible.”

“That’ll be fine.”

Spock nodded and started for the door, but turned at Kirk’s call. “Yes, sir?”

“Chess? Tonight at eighteen hundred?”

“That would be most welcome, Captain.” The Vulcan lifted an eyebrow at Kirk’s obvious pleasure, and departed.

Kirk nodded and lay back down, a smile playing on his lips.

“What was all that about?” McCoy walked up, following Spock’s progress from the room.

“What? The guards? You know about-”

“I’m not talking about the guards. I’m talking about the look that passed between you two.”

“What ‘look’?”

“You know what look. The one that goes with the smile plastered all over you face.” McCoy eyed him suspiciously. “Did something happen down there I should know about?”

Kirk sat up, turning to prop the pillow up behind him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bones. What could have happened?”

“You tell me. Mitchell couldn’t get out of here fast enough, and you and Spock were looking at each other like...”

“Like what?” Kirk asked, warily.

“I don’t know.” McCoy groped for words. “I’ve never seen you look at anyone like that before.”

“You’re imagining things, Doctor.”

“Maybe, but not as far as Mitchell is concerned. Jim, the man was obviously upset. Did you two argue?”

“Not exactly.” Kirk rubbed the back of his neck, gathering his thoughts. “Gary’s got a problem with Spock.”

“Because of the mental thing?”

“I’m not sure. But whatever it is, I’m going to have to deal with it right away. I can’t have my senior officers at odds with each other.”

“Jim, do you think Gary might have anything to do with what’s been happening to Spock?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve known Gary a long time. I can’t believe he’s capable of murder. And you said he’s back to normal...”

“Now, I didn’t say that, exactly.”

“But he’s not under any influence, right?” Kirk asked.

“As far as I can tell, he’s not.”

“Then no. Gary’s no murderer. Though I have to admit, it crossed my mind on the planet. He was so adamant about Spock not touching me-”

“Spock touching you? Why would Spock be touching you?” McCoy asked, unable to hide his surprise.

Kirk squirmed slightly. “He used the mind meld on me,” He lifted his hand to stave off McCoy’s outrage, ”And before you get all hot and bothered, it was perfectly all right. Hell, it was more than all right. He used it to block the pain while he worked on my leg. It was amazing, Bones. I didn’t feel a thing.”

“Nothing, huh? remarkable how he managed to use the meld when you needed it.” McCoy’s disbelief was plain, “And what did he feel?”

“I...I don’t know.” Kirk pondered the question. What had Spock felt? Had he taken all of Kirk’s pain into himself? It hadn’t occurred to him that Spock might have felt something other than what he had. The meld had been the most beautiful experience Kirk had ever had. He was surprised at how disappointed he felt thinking that it hadn’t been the same for his friend.

He managed to dispel any suspicions McCoy might have and three hours later was on his way to his quarters. The doctor had made his release conditional on his staying off duty until the next day. His leg was almost healed, McCoy having worked his magic, and a hot shower and a good book waited for him in his cabin. And then chess with Spock. He smiled and shook his head. He had it bad.

* * *

Mitchell watched as Spock entered the bridge and took the center seat. Something had obviously gone very wrong. Less than an hour ago the first officer had left, on his way to the transporter room to meet the captain and the rest of the landing party. Scuttlebutt told of a crazed captain hauled off to the brig, McCoy, Scott and Uhura incarcerated along with him.

The Vulcan was upset, continually shifting his weight as if uncomfortable where he sat. Mitchell, still at the science station where he had been ordered for the duration, quietly called up the latest report. Huddled over the viewer, he read with dawning alarm the situation that Kirk was facing. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that if this “mirror” Kirk was here, than their Kirk had been sent to wherever this man called home. No wonder Spock was upset.

As quickly as possible, Mitchell set the sensor controls to automatic and headed off the bridge. The first officer didn’t even look his way. Entering the turbo, he ordered it to the brig.

Two guards stood in front of the doorway, the forcefield at its highest setting. Mitchell strolled over, feigning a nonchalance he didn’t feel.

“How’s it going, Brenner?”

The security man gave him a stern look. “You shouldn’t be here, Gary. Mr. Spock gave standing orders that no one was to see the prisoners.”

“Really? What’s so important about these particular prisoners?”

“That’s not for me to say. I’m just following orders.”

“That’s interesting.” Gary rubbed his chin, eying the two men. “Tell you what I’m going to do. You and Stanley here give me fifteen minutes with them, and I’ll forget about the money you both owe me.”

The two guards looked at each other, and Mitchell could almost hear the gears turning. Each of them owed him a lot of money.

“I don’t know. If Mr. Spock ever found out...”

“He’s not going to find out. Besides, whatever he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Come on, fifteen minutes. It’s not like it’s going to hurt anything. What do you say?”

Brenner turned to his partner, “Stanley?”

Stanley shrugged, and Mitchell knew he had won.

“Okay, but fifteen minutes, not a second more.” Brenner cocked his head, motioning to his friend and the two men walked twenty or so feet down the corridor, out of hearing range but still able to see if anything happened.

Mitchell neared the brig entrance, keeping about a foot away. “Kirk, Jim Kirk.” He called to the prisoner, an exact duplicate of his captain.

Maybe not exact. The man who turned around and walked toward him was definitely not the man Mitchell knew. Anyone who knew Jim Kirk would have been able to tell the difference right away. There was a slyness around the eyes, a controlled violence that radiated from the prisoner. The hazel eyes, so much like his friend’s, held a barely concealed astonishment. “Gary Mitchell. You’re the last person I expected to see.”

“And why’s that?”

Kirk laughed, “Because you’re dead, that’s why not.”

“Am I? How did I die?”

Kirk gave him a smoldering smile. “You tried to take what wasn’t yours anymore. Spock didn’t like that.”

“Spock? Mr. Spock?” Mitchell found himself edging forward. “What did I try to take from him?”

Kirk’s smile broadened. “Me.”

Mitchell reared back, taken completely by surprise. “You? What the hell are you talking about?”

The man behind the forcefield laughed. “You mean Spock and your captain aren’t lovers?” He shook his head. “That’s too bad. Your Kirk is in for a big surprise, a very big surprise.”

“You son-of-a-bitch, you’re lying.”

“Now, why would I lie about something like that? Especially since I’ve got nothing to gain from it? I take it that means you’ve never been with your captain?”

“Of course not. I’m not that way, and neither is Jim Kirk.”

“You sure about that? Well, maybe you’re not...Gary was in it mostly for the power, anyway. But if your captain is anything like me, and there’s no reason to think he’s not...”

“He’s nothing like you.”

“You think so?” Suddenly all the charm the man had been oozing fled, “You better hope he’s like me,” He snarled. “Because when Spock gets hold of him, he’s going to need to be. He’s going to need everything he’s got to keep him at arm’s length. You think Spock would pass up a chance like that? Think again.”

“You mean he’d...”

“Why not? I know I would if your Mr. Spock gave me half the chance. It’s not like cheating...exactly.” His smile returned. “I’d be interesting, that’s for sure. Hell, he’s probably the only other person my Spock would let me be with.”

MItchell backed away. He didn’t want to hear anymore. The man was lying, he had to be. He turned and hurried down the corridor, Kirk’s laughter ringing in his ears.

Three hours later, he watched his two commanding officers as they conversed. The bridge was fairly quiet as they cruised on to their next assignment, but the two men kept their voices low. Mitchell tried to make out any difference in the way they were with each other. He couldn’t. They both seemed at ease with each other, the familiarity, the intimacy that Mitchell had recently noticed between them, still there.

He turned back to his station, and stared at the viewscreen. Intimacy. Was that the right word for it?

* * *

“Captain, wait up!”

Kirk turned to see Mitchell running up behind him. It was the first time since Gamma Seginus II they had talked while off-duty. “What is it, Mr. Mitchell?”

Mitchell skidded to a halt, a sheepish look on his face. “I know I deserve that, but I’d like to apologize for my behavior during our time on that planet. I don’t know what got into me.”

Kirk studied his friend, unsure how to take this about-face in his behavior. “It’s not me you should be apologizing to, it’s Spock.”

“Yeah, I know, and I plan on doing just that, just as soon as he’s released from sickbay. How’s he doing, anyway?”

Sickbay. Kirk grimaced, thinking about Spock. McCoy had him there, making sure the phaser stun had worn off with no lasting effects. “McCoy seems to feel he’ll recover soon. I think he’s just being cautious, keeping him there so long. With everything he’s been through recently...”

“That’s true.” Mitchell hesitated. “And Captain Tracy? What’s going to happen to him?”

Now that was an unpleasant situation. Kirk would never have dreamed that Ron Tracy would disobey the Prime Directive to such a degree. They all bent the rules from time to time, but to blatantly use the advanced power of the Federation to influence the course of a planet...”That’s not up to me. After we drop him off at Starbase Four, it’s in Starfleet’s hands.”

“Too bad about Galloway.” Mitchell glanced at Kirk. “I hear they’re going to have some kind of informal service for him.”

“Yes. He was a good officer.” Kirk’s demeanour tensed. He hated losing a crewmember. And Lieutenant Galloway had been with the ship for a long time.

“I didn’t know he was an amateur chemist, though.”

“Amateur chemist? What are you talking about?” Kirk looked at Mitchell in surprise.

“When they cleaned out his cabin they found bottles of different chemicals stashed in his bathroom. Guess he was really into that.”

“Where are the chemicals now?”

Mitchell shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d imagine in storage somewhere.”

Kirk turned and walked to the nearest intercom. “No, I don’t think so.” He punched on the com. “Kirk to sickbay. McCoy?”

After a few seconds the doctor responded, “What do you need, Jim?”

“Has security taken anything from Galloway’s cabin to sickbay? Chemicals of any sort?”

“Not that I know of. Hold on a sec.”

Kirk could hear McCoy talking to Chapel in the background. There was the slam of cabinet doors and then McCoy got back on the line. “Sure did. Where did he get all this stuff?”

“I don’t know, but I want you to go through it right now. Find out what’s in it and get back to me. Kirk out.” He rubbed his chin, not liking the direction his thoughts were taking.

“What’s the matter, Jim?”

Kirk looked back at Mitchell. “How well did you know Lieutenant Galloway?”

“Pretty well. We went on shoreleave together a few times.”

“Did he have a problem with anyone on the ship?”

Mitchell seemed to hesitate. “I, uh...”

“What? Gary if you have anything to say that might mean anything...”

“You’re not going to like it, but here goes. I was complaining about Mr. Spock to him one time, you know, right after he called me on the carpet about the Psi 2000 episode.”

Kirk waved his hand in impatience. “I know about that. Get on with what you and Galloway talked about.”

“Well, Galloway started going on about how much he disliked Spock, that he didn’t think a Vulcan should be in a position of power over humans. He thought something should be done about it.”

“Galloway said that?” Kirk was surprised. He never would have thought that of the man.

“McCoy to Captain Kirk.” The intercom went off, and Kirk immediately answered, “What did you find, Bones?”

“I think we have our attempted murderer, Jim. The poison used on Spock is here, in with a bunch of other nasty concoctions.”

“I’ll be right down. Kirk out.” He turned to Mitchell, shaking his head. “I guess that’s that.”

“I guess you never know someone like you think,” Mitchell replied. “Hey, if you’re on your way to sickbay, mind if I tag along? There’s a certain Vulcan there I need to talk to.”

Kirk nodded, still thinking about Galloway. It was a relief to know Spock was out out danger, but it saddened him to think he had been so wrong about the lieutenant. he motioned to Mitchell, and the two men headed for sickbay.

* * *

It hadn’t been as hard as he thought it would be, apologizing to the Vulcan. It still amazed Mitchell how easy it was to lie to his captain...even if it was for his friend’s sake. He wasn’t going to let his feelings for the science officer get in the way of his and Kirk’s friendship. He’d noticed the way Kirk was distancing himself from him, and he knew he’d do anything to allay his captain’s fears. Kirk had to trust him. Especially since it seemed he was the only one Kirk could trust.

* * *

“Captain, Ambassador Sarek and his wife are my parents,” Spock intoned.

Mitchell watched the surprise blossom on Kirk’s face as they stood at attention, welcoming their guests. He knew Kirk well enough to know that whatever else he felt, his captain wasn’t about to show it in front of anyone.

“Mr. Mitchell, report to the bridge. Have Mr. Scott set course for the Babel Conference,” Kirk ordered, but his attention was on his first officer.

“Yes, sir,” Mitchell replied, and started down the corridor, turning just in time to see Kirk leave with the Vulcan Ambassador and his wife, a troubled look on his face. He grinned. So, Mr. Spock’s parents were the ambassador from Vulcan and his wife. Interesting how Kirk didn’t know that. The two men had been spending a lot of time together, a lot of time together. That was obviously going to change.

* * *