DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc. The story contents are the creation and property of Cheree Cargill and is copyright (c) 2004 by Cheree Cargill.

THE CASTAWAYS

by Cheree Cargill

PART TWELVE

"ENDINGS AND BEGINNINGS"

The evening breeze off the desert hills ruffled Spock's hair as he stood on the terrace and sipped hot saya tea from the handmade stone cup. It was a curious object in so rich a household, half of a rounded river rock, a deep hollow carefully chipped into its center to form the bowl of the cup, the rim ground down and smooth, the bottom planed flat so that it would not tip over. Because it had no handle, Spock held it cradled in the palm of his hand, where it fit with remarkable ease and where it had rested countless times since its creation.

It was not for daily use, but now and then Spock retrieved it from its place in the book cabinet when the mood was upon him or his inner calendar told him that there was an anniversary of some sort to commemorate. This evening was such a time. By standard reckoning, this day marked eighteen Standard years since he and Christine were left to die on the uninhabited planet now called Avalon. Only they hadn't died. They'd faced every challenge and survived. It was Tal, their Romulan adversary, who had ultimately met his doom there, at the hands of the Lemuroid natives called Teeli.

Eighteen Standard years, over fourteen by Avalon reckoning, due to the 15 month year there. It had been a busy two years since their return to civilization. The media storm that had erupted upon the announcement of their rescue had yet to die down. Every news organization in the Alpha Quadrant had descended on Earth with holocams, reporters and tech crews. There had been Human, Vulcan, Andorian, Klingon, Risan, Rigellian, Tellurite, Xindi (four of the five races), Free Spacer, and some that no one had ever heard of before, all of them clamoring for an exclusive interview or story or scandal. Not even the fact that the family had been sequestered by both Starfleet and the Vulcan Embassy had prevented freelance holopoppers from stalking them and snapping candid shots with long distance lenses.

The family had appeared at press conferences, on talk shows, on the covers of every magazine from Federation News Week to The Ferengi Business Journal, and as the lead story of several thousand news webs. Sapel had become the darling of the teen holomags and was the heartthrob of billions of adolescent females throughout the Federation. The family had been courted by every sort of entrepreneur imaginable. Through their spokesmen, they had refused commercial endorsements on sixteen different planets, book deals, holovid deals, their own weekly broadcast show (take your pick -- talk, adventure or sitcom), lecture circuit deals, carnival oddity deals (Space Family Robinson in the Flesh!), and even an offer to purchase T'Jenn and T'Kai for the harem of an Orion thorium merchant so wealthy that he personally owned an entire solar system!

That was the point where Spock and Christine decided that they must get away from Earth as soon as was possible. It was simply too dangerous and uncontrolled here. The logical place to relocate was Vulcan, for the stern and humorless Vulcans tolerated no such nonsense from outworlders. They were selective about whom they allowed on their planet and prosecuted any violators to the fullest extent that their strict laws allowed.

Spock sent the children with Sarek and Amanda, trusting that they would be protected by the power of the Vulcan Embassy and their grandparents' personal shelter. But it had been a while before he and Christine could leave Earth. First, they were obliged to undergo their Starfleet Judiciary Board hearing on whether they had violated General Order No. 1 in contacting and thereby contaminating the purity of the native population of Avalon.

* * *

The Starfleet hearing turned out to be something other than Spock had been expecting. In his long career, he had appeared both as a witness and a defendant in a number of courts-martial and hearings, but he had never participated in any one like this one.

To begin with, both he and Christine had been subjected to intensive debriefing by the Starfleet investigators aboard the Enterprise on the way back to Earth, recounting in as much detail as they could (leaving out personal things) the events leading up to their kidnapping by Romulan agents, their abandonment on Avalon, and the twelve years they spent there. Of particular interest to the investigators was the discovery and interaction with the native Lemuroids. The war with the Teeli and Spock's slaying of their shaman leader was dealt with in microscopic detail. All of their testimony was recorded and sealed into the record.

Kirk had sat in on the debriefings, making it his top priority as Spock and Christine's commanding officer, and he became more alarmed as the questioning went on. They were getting into dicey legal grounds and the old term "railroaded" began to appear in his mind over what lay in store for his two friends.

Taking matters into his own hands, he privately contacted some old acquaintances and make some inquiries. When the Enteprise pulled into Space Dock, among the hordes of reporters and curiosity seekers awaiting them was a tall, grizzled black man, a confident smile on his face and a twinkle in his dark chocolate eyes.

He stuck out his hand in greeting. "Thomas Jefferson Okanga at your service," he announced to the stunned pair. "I'm your attorney. Don't say another word to these clowns. From now on, I'll do all the talking."

"Attorney?" repeated Spock, dumb-founded.

"Attorney?" echoed Christine, and both turned to look at Kirk.

"Thought you might need a bit of professional counsel in this matter," the commodore answered with a bit of disingenuousness. "Tom here is one of the best. A former partner of the late Samuel T. Cogley. Direct descendent of Thomas Jefferson too, right, Tom?"

"Through Sally Hemmings, his slave and mistress," Okanga grinned, showing a great swath of white teeth. "I've studied his writings all my life. Ever read the entire American Declaration of Independence? Eloquent document. But be that as it may ... Jim here suggested that you two need a good lawyer to handle the mess you're in. Glad to be aboard."

And so it was that, when the hearing formally opened three months later, Spock and Christine sat quietly in the court room and watched Tom Okanga come out with all phasers blasting.

To begin with, he stated in his opening remarks, Starfleet had violated Federation civil law by interrogating his clients without benefit of legal counsel. That interrogation had already been entered into the record of this hearing by the prosecution but, under the circumstances in which it was acquired, it was invalid and Okanga demanded it be stricken as inadmissible evidence.

Second, Starfleet had no actual jurisdiction over his clients as they had been declared legally dead on Stardate 5649.1. Deceased persons were not subject to Starfleet regulations. The fact that they had been found alive six and a half years later was of no consequence. Legally, his clients were dead. Period.

Third, regarding the charge of violation of General Order No. 1 while they were alive and subject to Starfleet regulations, the alleged offense took place outside of Federation territorial limits on a planet not subject to Federation laws. Indeed, the subject planet was under Romulan jurisdiction at the time.

Next, the alleged violation, i.e., contact with a non-warp-capable species and interference in their civilization, took place on approximately Stardate 5829.3, two years after his clients had been declared dead. See point number two regarding deceased persons.

Finally, his clients were Federation citizens in distress, to wit, having been abducted and abandoned by enemy military forces and were undertaking every reasonable and necessary action to insure their survival. Under such circumstances, any reasonable and prudent person would do the same. See Martian Colony 2 v. Abercrombie; City of Azub Prime v. United Miners Association; et al. All case law cited in documentation already filed with the Judge Advocate General's office in the pleadings of this case.

In conclusion, Okanga stated, to sum up his arguments, his clients, Spock cha Sarek of Vulcan and Christine Marie Chapel of Earth, were dead. Thus, they were no longer either members of Starfleet or citizens of the United Federation of Planets, unless it could be proven by the prosecution that benefits and responsibilities of these organizations continued after death. Therefore, all charges against his clients were invalid and these proceedings were moot.

An oral Motion to Dismiss was hereby presented for ruling by the Board. Thank you, gentlemen. And Okanga sat down with a confident little smile next to Spock and Christine.

The Starfleet prosecuting attorney had argued persuasively that the two defendants were obviously very much alive and sitting right there! But Okanga countered by presenting their death certificates, as recorded in Federation records on Stardate 5649.9. He also presented documents showing that both their estates were still in probate, tangled by interplanetary red tape and thus unsettled as yet.

In the end, the hearing Board had recessed indefinitely until all legal precedents and case law could be studied. The defendants were released, subject to recall at a later date.

As the hearing attendees rose and began to make their way from the court room, Okanga chuckled deeply as he gathered his papers together. "Well, that takes care of that."

"I do not understand, sir," Spock answered. "There was no ruling, only a postponement."

"Son, how long do you think it will take to research every bit of case law here and by how many lawyers? There isn't enough money in the Starfleet coffers to pursue this case or enough attorneys at their disposal. It could cost them the equivalent of an entire starship! Do you really think they'll let it go that far? No, the Board'll make a ruling in a couple of months to dismiss this nonsense and you can get on with your lives."

Commodore Kirk laughed out loud. "Are all lawyers crooked, Tom?"

"Only the good ones," Okanga replied with a wide grin and rose. "Now ... while we're waiting for the JAG officers to pronounce this hearing moot because you're dead, I'll start work on the process to declare you alive."

"Forgive me," Spock said, puzzled. "But won't that negate the Board ruling?"

"Not at all, because we won't file any papers until the Board rules. You're already legally dead, which means you're both non-entities. Until you're declared alive again, we can't begin to get your estates straightened out or get all the backpay Starfleet owes you. That'll be easy, but the estate work will be the real job!" The grizzled-haired lawyer rubbed his hands together in a mercenary fashion. "I'm going to retire after this case is all done!" He grinned again. "Spock, I hope you have deep pockets!"

* * *

On the viewscreen, T'Jenn's little face was the picture of misery. "Mama, when can we go home?" she pleaded. "I don't like it here!"

Christine sighed, feeling helpless. "But don't you like staying with Granny and Sa'mehk?" she asked.

"No! It's hot 'n' I don't like the food 'n' ever'body's mean," the child sobbed, tears rolling down her cheeks. "They don't smile 'n' won't let us play or nothing. I wanna go home!"

Her mother sighed heavily again. "We can't go home right now, baby," Christine said, attempting to placate her daughter. "Papa and I have to stay on Earth for a little while longer."

T'Jenn really began weeping then, hard and heavy. "Want you, Mama! Want Papa!"

Christine felt her heart break and tears come to her own eyes. Around the lump in her throat, she answered with sudden resolve, "All right, baby. I want you, too! I'm coming to get you. It will take me a few days to get there, but Mama is coming to get you and Kai-Kai and Sapel."

"Papa, too?" Jenny asked hopefully.

"I don't know, honey," Christine responded truthfully. "But I'm coming for you! I promise!" On the screen, Jenny sniffed and seemed more reassured. "Now, let me speak with Granny."

"'Kay. Bye, Mama."

"Bye, baby girl," Christine smiled. "I love you, sweetie."

"Love you, Mama!"

The child moved away from the camera and in a moment, Amanda appeared and seated herself. She looked haggard and unwell. Christine was immediately concerned.

"Amanda? Are you all right?" she questioned.

The older woman sighed. "I'm just tired, dear."

"What's going on with the kids?"

Amanda took a moment to peer appraisingly into her daughter-in-law's face, then answered, "I'm sorry, Christine, but I'm afraid I'm a bit too old to take on caring for three such ... spirited youngsters. They are having trouble adjusting to Vulcan society. And they miss you and Spock terribly."

For a second, Christine read "undisciplined" for "spirited" and felt a quick surge of annoyance, but then she fought that emotion down. Compared to any Vulcan child, her three were undisciplined. Moreover, they had never known anything but the freedom of Avalon and had never been separated from their parents before. No wonder they were miserable!

Christine composed herself and stared steadily at the screen. "I'm coming to get them, Amanda. I'll be there as soon as I can figure out a way to get off planet."

Spock's mother looked both relieved and thoughtful. "But you have no money, do you, dear?"

Christine let the corner of her mouth twitch wryly. "I'd have to sign on as a crewmember, I'm afraid," she said. "You're right. I don't have a credit to my name."

"Yes, Spock told me that your lawyer had found that your estate had already been settled and disbursed to your family members not long after you were declared dead."

"And they donated a sizeable chunk of it to charity in my memory," Christine responded. "No chance of recovering it. The rest was spent by the family. I'm flat as a pancake until I can get my back pay from Starfleet."

Amanda pondered a moment. "The Vulcan attache's shuttle in is port on Earth," she said. "I'll have Sarek send the Embassy instructions to give you and Spock passage. Can you make it to Vulcan territory there?"

Christine glanced around the quarters they'd been using at Starfleet headquarters and her expression hardened. "We'll get to the Embassy somehow. If I have to point my ears and learn to speak Golic, we'll get there!"

* * *

"Are you certain this is an advisable course of action?" questioned Spock as he watched Christine pack.

"Advisable or not, I'm going," she answered, stuffing a tube of extra-strength sunscreen into her carryall. She'd need it once she got to Vulcan.

"Leaving might prejudice the Board's ruling on our case," he pointed out.

"Then the case and the Board be damned," she responded tightly. "I'm going to get my kids and no one's going to stop me!" With a flourish, she sealed the bag and stood back, peering defiantly up at her husband.

During the two months they'd been back on Earth, he had slipped easily back into his old persona … or so it seemed to most people. Christine could see through the facade to the man that resided beneath the calm and emotion-free expression. He had cut his long hair to the common short style that most Vulcans wore, a bit longer and much softer than the sleek cap from the old days, and he now dressed in comfortable civilian attire, but to all outward appearances he was still the starship officer he'd been. Christine knew better. He had changed irrevocably during their long sojourn on Avalon and she often caught him staring into the distance with a slightly wistful air. She didn't have to stretch her imagination very far to know where his mind was wandering.

Her own features softened. "I need to get away from here, Spock," she stated gently. "I feel like I'm in a can! I didn't realize how much I'd gotten used to the wide open spaces until we came back here. I can't breathe half the time and I feel like I'm being crushed by people! You remember that planet the ship visited once? Um … Gideon … with the overwhelming population burden? That's how I feel here! Even if I didn't have the kids as an excuse to leave, I'd do it anyway." She paused and peered at him appraisingly. "So, are you coming with me or staying here?"

"Coming with you, of course," he answered easily, the faintest hint of a smile pulling at his lips. "I have felt much the same way myself. And I too miss the children. Perhaps we can make a journey into the deserts once we reach Vulcan."

"I have a better idea," Christine answered. He quirked an eyebrow interrogatively. "Let's go to Risa," she said. "Let's take Frank up on his offer. I'd rather be lying on a beach than roasting in the desert and I think the kids would, too."

"I have a better idea than that," Spock responded, his dark brown eyes twinkling. "Let's go to Risa and get married on the beach." At her delighted and slightly flabbergasted expression, he added, "After all, I did promise you a wedding."

* * *

"I pledged my life to you once before," Spock said softly, "and gave you this ring as a token of that pledge. I do so again, before our friends and children, that they may know you are my t'hy'la and my aduna until such time as death separates us."

So saying, he slipped the green-stoned Romulan ring onto Christine's left hand and covered it with his own.

Christine's eyes were sparkling in the final rays of the Risan sunset. Waves coming in from the tropical sea licked up onto the cream-colored beach with a gentle hiss before pulling back again and the evening breeze off the ocean ruffled Spock's midnight robes and the white silk kimono that his bride wore, the fabric embroidered with cherry blossoms and golden filigree. She was breathtakingly beautiful in the rosy evening light, her long dark hair pulled back into a waist-length braid and woven through with fragrant white flowers.

Around them were gathered a small, select group of people. Jim Kirk stood as Spock's best man and Nyota Uhura attended Christine. Leonard McCoy filled in as father of the bride, unable to stifle the wide grin on his face. With him were Sapel, T'Jenn and T'Kai, along with their hosts, Captain Frank Hendrikson (home on leave), his wife Verise, and their daughters, Lelani and Maia. Sapel had been visibly startled when introduced to Maia, for she was literally the girl out of his dreams. But now he had eyes only for his parents.

Christine was peering up into her husband's face with undisguised adoration. "Spock, I gave you my heart long ago and far away, when we first met. I never expected that you would give me yours in return. And though I knew you were brave and strong, I never understood the meaning of those words until we were marooned on Avalon. I learned there, too, the size of the Vulcan heart and I have not regretted a single day since I pledged myself to you there on that planet. I renew that pledge today, my adun, and vow to be at your side from this day until we are parted by death."

"You are my wife," Spock affirmed.

"You are my husband," Christine smiled back.

And with that, he bent and kissed her, sealing their bond and union before the gathered company. As if to emphasize the occasion, the sun burst free of the bank of clouds hanging low on the horizon, blazing with coppery rays that illuminated the couple and gilded them with spectacular light.

The wedding party erupted into cheers and applause and rushed forward to congratulate them. There was much kissing and hugging, then the group moved up the beach where a feast was set out and torches blazed in the gathering night. It was a regular luau and they were joined by musicians and dancers, Frank served as bartender, and Verise began to dish out succulent foods that she and the girls had prepared especially for the party.

The merriment went long into the evening, the children having the time of their lives, never having known such an occasion. The teenagers kept an eye on the little girls while the grownups ate, drank and visited.

It wasn't until nearly midnight, after the smaller children had fallen asleep on blankets spread on the soft sand, and the adults were beginning to feel the drowsy contentment of full stomachs and the company of good friends, and after Sapel, Maia and Lelani had moved down to the waterline to talk among themselves, that Spock and Christine exchanged glances and knew it was time to leave.

Down the beach, about a mile from the Hendrikson house, was a secluded beach cabin, reserved for just such occasions as this. Frank and Verise had already prepared it for the honeymooning couple and smiled knowingly as the two rose silently and slipped away into the night, walking away hand-in-hand into the star-flecked darkness.

* * *

The walk on the beach was magical. The ocean sparkled in the light of the two fairy moons, the air was filled with the scent of night-blooming flowers, and sand beneath their feet was soft and warm. To their left the surf called invitingly and to their right the palm forest swayed gently in the faint breeze, whispering in the dark. Spock and Christine had paused several times to kiss and caress one another, their passion growing deeper the nearer they got to their destination.

Finally the little cabin appeared, nestled amid the palms at the top of the beach. Within, soft golden light glowed and champagne chilled at the side of the waiting bed, but before the couple reached the doorway, Christine grinned and said, "Let's go for a swim."

"Now?" questioned Spock, surprised. Still, a surge of excitement shot through him.

"Yes. I want to swim." With that, her eyes locked mischievously onto Spock's, Christine began to undo the ornate sash of her kimono.

"Let me," Spock growled in a hoarse whisper. His long fingers went to the knot in the sash and untied it quickly, allowing it to fall away. The white silk robe fell open, revealing the diaphanous wrap beneath and, below that, only the deep blush of her skin. He pushed the kimono and underwrap off her shoulders, allowing the fabric to slide across her standing nipples, teasing them into greater alertness, then her clothing fell away and puddled on the sand.

The sudden lack of raiment made her shiver and she crossed her arms over her breasts and hugged herself. "Here. This is warmer," Spock said and opened his own robe. Underneath, he was naked as well and she moved against him, slipping her arms around his body and nestling against his chest, nuzzling into the hair and inhaling his scent. Against her groin, his erection rose up between them, an extra heat pressing into her body.

"Mmmmm," she murmured. "You're the sexiest dead man I know."

"I am very much alive," he answered, his deep voice vibrating against her cheek.

"I can tell!" She slipped one hand down between them to grasp him, fondling the stiff shaft of his manhood.

"Are you sure you want to swim?" he questioned throatily.

"Yes!" And, laughing, she pushed away from him and sprinted down the beach to the water.

He shucked his robe and ran after her, joyous and excited as only she could make him. She splashed into the water, Spock right behind her, the tropical sea refreshing and relaxing at the same time. On another world, Avalon especially, they would never have gone into the ocean at night, but Risa's waters were safe. A magnetic fence out at the breakers kept all harmful organisms away from the beach, allowing only the waves and sea birds to pass.

Spock caught his wife and pulled her luscious body against his, bringing his lips down to capture hers, and she returned the kiss with interest, her tongue playing against his. For a moment, she wrapped her legs around his hips and rubbed against him, but as soon as he moved to put her into position, she pushed away again and struck out with a strong stroke toward the barrier fence. He had no option but to follow, and for a while, they enjoyed the feel of the water sliding across their bare skin and the sight of each other's muscles gleaming in the light on the moons.

As they neared the shore on their return lap, Christine paused for breath and Spock seized her yet again, this time from behind. "You will not escape me, wife!" he threatened, pushing his hardness between the soft cheeks of her buttocks and clutching her full, smooth breasts in his hands. "I intend to fulfill our wedding mating, whether you wish it or not!"

She giggled in delight, fully aware of the exultant humor of the statement, and pleaded, "No! No! I've never done this before! Please! I'm a virgin!"

"Indeed?" he shot back. "Then how can you have three children? Answer me that!"

"I'm also an awful liar!" she chortled and wriggled loose.

Feeling the ground beneath her feet, she broke free and raced up on to the beach, flinging herself down onto the sand, rolling onto her back. Her body was frosted with starlight and crystalline sand grains, sparkling and ethereal as she stretched herself out for him at last, breathing hard.

Spock came up slowly out of the water and stood over her, dripping, the moonlight glistening off the curves and angles of his taut, chiseled body. Naked, his erection thrusting before him, he appeared to her as primal man, no veneer of civilization cloaking his magnificent form. And he was done with their impetuous foreplay as well. The chase had aroused him completely and now the coolness of the air on his body kindled within him a flame that would soon rage through them both.

Christine lay looking up at him, her breathing heavy but only partially from the swim. She was ready now, too, her teasing done, and the exhilaration of their bonding sang back and forth between them, intensifying as it went. He sank down onto his knees beside her and bent over her to claim her lips in a bruising kiss. As he moved into position above her, her arms went around his neck and she opened her thighs to receive him, compelling him through their bond to hurry, for she did not desire any further delay.

He needed no further urging, but with a strong thrust, mounted her there on the beach, the waves washing up gently to their hips. The setting was so primeval, so pure, that he could not hold himself back any longer. With a rending cry, he worked frantically against her and came almost immediately, lifting her up beneath him, but it was only a prelude. Catching his breath, Spock began to move within her again, his initial fire abated only a little, and allowed the momentarily dimmed flame to burst free once more.

"Looks like the party's over," said Lelani Hendrikson. Sapel and Maia looked back toward the house and saw that the dancers and musicians had gone and that clean-up of the food had begun by the resort staff. Verise and Uhura had picked up the sleeping children and were on their way to put them to bed. Kirk and McCoy were with them while Frank Hendrikson supervised the clean-up.

"Guess I'll go help Dad," Lelani commented and rose to her feet. "You two coming?"

Maia cast a speculative glance at the young man sitting on the sand next to her, then answered, "We'll stay a while longer."

"Not too long," her older sister warned archly, then left them alone.

Sapel looked around and asked, "Where did my parents go? Back to the house?"

Maia giggled. "Course not, silly. They went up to the honeymoon cottage."

"What's 'honeymoon'?"

"Oh, come on, you know," the girl answered. "Where new married couples go to be alone and ... you know ... go to bed!"

"Oh, is that all?" Sapel shrugged and looked back out to the moon-spangled sea. "I thought it might be about food when you said 'honey'."

Maia laughed again and tossed her long black hair over her shoulder. "You're funny, Sapel," she grinned.

"Well, I just never heard of some of these things before. On Terra Two, if they wanted to mate, they just did."

"You mean, they did it in front of you?!" The girl's eyes grew wide.

"No, not really. They always tried to not let us see or hear them, but when you all live in the same room, it's pretty hard to be private."

Maia was quiet for a moment, then asked softly, her eyes cut to the side to gauge his answer. "Have you ever ... um ..."

"No," he answered cautiously. "Not actually. I've done it with my hand sometimes. Um ... have you ever...?"

"No. Up in Risa City, it's real common for girls to go into the Trade as soon as they hit puberty, but Dad wouldn't allow that for us," Maia said. "That's why we live way out here on this island. He's pretty old fashioned."

Sapel pondered that for a while, trying to ignore the tightness in his groin that the conversation had started. To change the subject, he asked, "How old are you, Maia?"

"By Federation Standard years, I'm 15. How about you?"

Sapel had to calculate from Avalon time to Standard. "About 16 or 17, I think, in Earth years. I get mixed up sometimes." He shrugged again. "I don't know reading or counting or writing very well. My parents tried to teach me, but I didn't see much point in it, so I didn't pay much attention."

"What did you pay attention to?" she asked, genuinely interested.

"Things that did matter. How to hunt and track game. How to make tools and weapons. How to read weather signs and put up food for the winter."

"Was it very terrible there?" Maia asked quietly.

Sapel was silent and lay back on the sand, his gaze wandering over the stars that clustered thickly overhead. The muted rush of the surf and gentle breeze in the palms turned his thoughts back to Sea Home, to a time before the hurricane had wrecked it and he had roamed the hills with Scruffy, nearly as free as the hunting cat. Except for the times when the sea monsters were around, he had loved the beach, searching for shellfish and arthropods in the tide pools, racing the waves as they washed ashore, collecting eggs from the seabird nests. Suddenly he missed it with an aching pain such as he'd seldom known.

"It was wonderful," he finally answered. "I want to go back there. I want to go home."

Maia reclined beside him and propped herself on one elbow, her cheek resting in her palm. With her other hand, she trailed her fingertips over his shoulder and down his bare chest.

"Tell me about your home," she entreated him.

And so Sapel talked, describing for her the vast savannahs populated by herds of grazers, the long winding rivers that snaked down to the sea, the coast where they had lived and the fearsome beasts that swam there. He told her of Mooch and Scruffy and Picku, of the lions and werewolves and giant elk, of adventures and close calls and times of joy. By the time he had finished, they were alone on the beach and Maia was snuggled in his arms. Her presence warmed Sapel with a new-found heat that he had experienced only in a dream and abruptly he understood why he had felt the way he did in that night-time fantasy. Again he felt his body tighten, his blood throbbing into his groin and making it grow hard with anticipation.

As she became aware of his silence, Maia lifted her face up to peer into his and felt the heat begin to radiate through her, as well. Without speaking, Sapel bent his head and brought his lips down gently onto hers, tentatively at first then with growing confidence. It was his first kiss and the sweet warmth of her mouth sent a surge through his body to center in his gut.

She slipped her arm around his neck and pressed harder into the kiss, and instinctively he made to roll her further onto her back, but she abruptly pushed at his shoulder and stopped him.

"Not yet," she whispered. "It's too soon." Kissing him quickly again, she wriggled free and got up, hurriedly adjusting her sarong-like wrap. "Come on. We'd better go to bed now."

Startled, Sapel sat up and stared at her. "Bed?"

Maia giggled merrily. "Not together, silly! What are you thinking?! No, come on before Dad comes looking for us! It's late!"

Sapel scrambled to his feet as well, glad the darkness hid the obviously evidence of his arousal, and took her hand in his, trotting beside her up the beach toward the house, his heart pounding with an excitement that filled him to bursting.

* * *

Spock's snoring woke Christine the next morning, something that amused her greatly. He normally was a silent sleeper, but on occasion this all-too-human foible had been known to afflict him. This time it must have been the champagne from the night before. After making love on the beach, they had gone back up to the cabin, taken a quick sonic shower in the booth outside to rid themselves of sand and salt, then he had swooped her up into his arms and carried her ceremoniously over the threshold.

By this time she was laughing like a schoolgirl and couldn't seem to stop. The chilled champagne awaiting them at bedside hadn't helped and she'd gotten downright tipsy before she knew it. He, of course, professed not to be affected at all by the alcohol, but she noted that he was definitely relaxed to a degree that was unusual for him, even with her.

They'd made love one more time before the effects of the late hour, the wedding feast, the previous amorous activity, and the sparkling wine took their toll and the pair had fallen into deep, satisfied sleep.

Now morning had come and the sun was well up, judging from the angle of the rays reaching in through the bamboo blinds on the windows. Christine was definitely lazy, the bed extremely comfortable, and her companion very good to look at. Turned on his side facing her, his soft snoring accompanied the peaceful vulnerability of his familiar features. Dark lashes spread on his high cheekbones, black brows upswept in graceful accent, cheeks and chin rough with unshaven stubble. As she let her eyes roam over his countenance, she noted the threads of silver that shown within his thick, jet hair, tousled in sleep, and that there was also a dusting of white in his beard.

He was still so young, for a Vulcan, she reflected with a hint of melancholy, but the past few years had aged him prematurely. There were lines on his face that shouldn't have been there and she thought back to the almost heart-breakingly handsome young man she had encountered when she'd first beamed aboard the Enterprise. Had it really been 20 years ago? The serene, composed features had made her heart thump with unexpected vigor as he had stepped from behind the transporter console to greet her and Dr. McCoy, both of them taking up their new assignments on the ship. She'd never been so close to a Vulcan before and he took her breath away.

How could she possibly know then that someday she would be lying next to him, naked and suffused in the warm glow of his love, eternally bonded to this extraordinary man, the mother of his children and his companion for life? Then, she was in search of another man with whom she had intended to share those things. Had her heart known better when it pounded so hard as the cool, dark eyes of this alien being transfixed and held her? Had he known then as well?

She thought not. He had closed himself off from the pain and turmoil of Human emotion, wearing a mask that fooled most of the crew into believing he was as cold and unfeeling as an automaton. Some saw through it, however. The Captain. Dr. McCoy. …Herself. She could feel it. Had known it as their eyes locked that first day in the transporter room. A strange thought had crossed her mind that day, one coming from no place that she could fathom. Our babies will be beautiful…She'd blinked and come back to reality, finding the rigid Vulcan face wearing just a hint of puzzlement, one eyebrow elevated slightly higher than the other.

The thought of children turned her mind to something they had discussed recently and now, peering into the adored face of her beloved husband, she considered again a subject they had been debating before. Spock's next Time of Mating was not far off, only a year or so, and he was well aware that she did not desire more children for a number of reasons. Her age was a definite factor. She was pushing 50, a time when most Human women had long since ended their child-bearing years by surgical or chemical means. She was eager to resume her career in biochemical research once their troubles with Starfleet were settled, and she already had three children to consider.

Sapel needed extensive tutoring if he were to function in the civilized world and Jenny needed catch-up education to prepare her for entering school. T'Kai would be the easiest to deal with, for she was just beginning nursery school and was young enough for her birth and first years on Avalon not to affect her.

It was a problem Christine and Spock had talked about numerous times. There was simply so much to consider as they attempted to re-start their lives after the long exile alone. So much to do…

Still, as Christine gazed affectionately at her sleeping mate, there was a longing she could not deny. It was a primeval urging, as acutely feminine as could be found in the cosmos, and, coupled with Spock's radiant sexuality and their shared devotion, she found it hard to deny. Perhaps one more baby, she thought. Before I really am too old…

She reached out and lightly touched his lower lip with a fingertip, smiling as she remembered how his mouth had tasted the night before, champagne-drenched and hot with desire. Spock gave a start and opened his eyes, for a second disoriented to find her smiling at him, her crystalline blue eyes shining.

"Good morning," she murmured and bent forward to kiss him.

"Good morning," he answered muzzily in return. Still half-asleep, he simply lay looking at her, his eyes in the morning light a warm, mahogany brown that few had ever seen. To most, his eyes seemed so dark as to be almost black. Christine knew better, for she had gazed into those eyes so often that she knew every shade and nuance.

"How about some breakfast?" she asked.

"If you wish it, beloved, but I am still fatigued from last evening," he replied with a little smile.

"No, I meant food!" she exclaimed with a laugh. "Although the other would be nice, too!"

"Food would be a more logical choice at the moment," he replied, reaching up to trail his fingertips down her cheek. "Perhaps afterwards I will be fortified enough that we might…"

She leaned in and kissed him solidly, then rose from the warmth of the bed and caught up the thick white robe that lay across the room's chair. He enjoyed the sight of her sun-splashed body for the moment it took for her to don the robe, then she padded barefoot into the cabin's kitchen.

"Wonder what there is to eat?" her voice floated back amid noises of exploration.

"There should be fruit and breakfast breads in the food cooler," Spock called back, rolling onto his back and stretching. He felt decidedly decadent, but decided that their wedding morning was a suitable occasion for such luxury. They would be back into their routine soon enough.

There were sounds of food preparation in the kitchen, then Christine reentered the bedroom, bearing a tray filled with various fruit, rolls, a carafe of red-purple juice, and a pot of coffee, along with various and sundry utensils and dishes. Spock pushed himself upright against the pillows, only the bed's sheets covering him from the waist down.

As she pressed a small button on the side, legs popped out of the tray's corners and Christine settled the tray across Spock's lap, then she shucked her robe and crawled back into bed next to him, fluffing her pillows at her back. While she did this, Spock picked up a small flat PADD that she'd also placed on the try, its "attention" light blinking incessantly.

"We have a message," he observed and started to activate the device.

"No, let's eat first," Christine retorted, buttering a scone. "If it were an emergency or something really urgent, someone would have come down here in person to notify us."

"Hmmm ... logical." Spock laid the data device to one side and for the next hour, they enjoyed a leisurely and mildly erotic breakfast, feeding one another cubes of fruit, exchanging kisses, and dribbling juice (intentionally or otherwise) that required further clean-up.

"We need to take a shower," Christine mumbled between kisses, tickling her tongue against his and pulling gently at his lower lip with her own mouth.

"Indeed," he responded, bending his head to lick juice from one bare breast. "That would seem to be in order before we return to the main house."

"Mmmm..." She sucked on one sticky finger as he worked at getting all the fruit juice from around her nipple. "I suppose we do have to go back, don't we?"

"It would be unreasonable to assume that we can stay here forever," he murmured. Then, straightening with a sigh, he added, "We should see what the message is that was forwarded to us."

"Suppose so..." Christine leaned back, sucking juice off another of her fingers and watched as Spock activated the PADD.

The little screen came alive with the cheerful face of Tom Okanga, their attorney on Earth. It was a pre-recorded message, not requiring their interaction, and they focused their attention on the viewscreen.

"Howdy, you love birds, and congrats on making it legal!" Okanga began with a wide grin. "I'll make this short so you can get back to your honeymoon, but I need for the two of you to come back to Earth no later than the end of the week. Well, that doesn't make any sense, does it? I tend to forget about time differences..." He trailed off in a sort of grumble. "Five Standard days then, how's that? The Board's ready to make a ruling in your case and you need to be here by Friday, San Fran time, so we can go over everything and be ready for court on Monday morning. Now, get back to the birds 'n' bees stuff and I'll see you in a few days!" and the little screen went black

* * *

The presiding admiral tapped the ancient's ship's bell three times and announced, "This hearing will come to order. In re Commander Spock cha Sarek. In re Lieutenant Christine M. Chapel. Continuation of hearing recessed on Stardate 6222.3. Counsel, do you have any remarks you wish to make before this Board resumes?"

The prosecuting attorney stood up. "No further comments, sir," he said and sat down.

Tom Okanga, today dressed in a white tailored suit and looking like God himself, rose and stated, "Honorable Members of the Board, we reiterate our position that these proceedings are moot and should be dismissed in light of our position that the defendants are legally dead and therefore no longer subject to Starfleet regulations." He re-seated himself.

Admiral Jackowitz managed to keep from scowling, as did his fellow two command grade officers, Admiral Hiyataki and Admiral Reed. Jackowitz cleared his throat. "Thank you, counsel. Those issues will be addressed. My fellow Board members and I have researched the legalities involved here and any precedent case law and are prepared to make our ruling on this matter. The defendants will please rise."

Spock and Christine, both of them dressed in dark, conservative civilian attire rather than their uniforms, stood up together and faced the court-martial, Christine noticeably tense, although Spock was seemingly without any emotion whatsoever.

Jackowitz looked from one to the other and stated, "This Board finds the defendants, Commander Spock cha Sarek and Lieutenant Christine Marie Chapel, to be alive and the declaration of their deaths to be in error. To that end, the charges brought against them are valid and legal. On the charge that the defendants violated General Order No. 1 while marooned on the planet now known as Avalon in Beta Quadrant, Sector 8963... We find the violation to have occurred under duress and extraordinary circumstances and hereby dismiss all such charges."

Christine closed her eyes and wilted visibly for a second, causing Spock to glance sideways at her. But she recovered and turned her attention back to the court.

Jackowitz continued, "The matter of open colonization of Avalon in light of its occupation by sentient natives is currently under consideration by the United Federation of Planets Colonization Committee. The testimony given by the defendants regarding their contact with the Avalon natives has been turned over to that Committee for further study." He consulted the PADD before him and went on, "Having been declared alive and de facto political prisoners of the Romulan Empire during their absence, Commander Spock and Lt. Chapel are due the following amounts in back pay, combat duty, hazard duty, and compensation... To Commander Spock, the sum of 215,889 Credits to be deposited into his Starfleet account as of this date. To Lt. Chapel, the sum of 194,724 Credits to be deposited into her Starfleet account as of this date."

Now Spock's eyebrows rose in surprise, even as Christine gasped softly beside him. Neither had realized how much Starfleet owed them for the years they'd been gone.

Jackowitz wasn't finished, however. "The defendants, having been found alive and having all charges dismissed against them, are hereby reactivated to duty and will report to Starfleet Medical at 0700 on Thursday, September 8 ... some three days hence ... for standard physical examinations and assignment. If there is no further commentary, this hearing is closed."

He started to strike the ship's bell, but Okanga stood up abruptly. "Your Honor, there is another matter."

"Yes?"

Okanga nodded and the tall Vulcan at his side spoke for the first time. "Admiral, distinguished Board members, my wife and I thank you for your consideration in this matter. However, we have made the decision to resign our commissions as Starfleet officers and return to civilian life, effective immediately."

All three board officers were startled. "Commander Spock," answered Jackowitz. "Have you fully considered this decision, in light of your long and brilliant career with Starfleet? And, Lt. Chapel, your medical career is distinguished. We could use people like you on starship duty again."

"Admiral, I have three children to raise and another career - my chosen career in biochemistry -- to resume," Christine responded. "I can assure you that Spock and I have spent a lot of time discussing this. Our minds are made up."

Jackowitz sighed. "Very well. Tender the proper paperwork and your discharge pay will be added to your account balances. Accounting will begin your retirement benefits as soon as it can work its way through the system. If that's all, ladies and gentlemen...?" He looked around the hearing room. "These proceedings are ended. Dismissed!"

* * *

The dust and stench of coppery blood would have choked Christine if she weren't already gasping for breath in Vulcan's thin atmosphere. There was no escape now from the arena, for the males fighting Spock for her possession would have pounced had she made a break for freedom.

Any movement on her part would have distracted Spock and that would mean his death. His opponent was doing his best to find an opening in Spock's defenses, looking for a chance to decapitate his rival. Both Vulcans were equally matched, both covered with bleeding wounds where the lethal blades of the lirpas had already found their mark.

The two men circled one another, both nearly naked in the heat. Spock wore only his leather breechcloth, his bronzed skin glistening with a patina of sweat. The other Vulcan was girded with a loin covering of linen-like cloth, tied about the waist with a long, thin strap - an ahn-woon. He was not sweatingg, for he was full Vulcan and the heat and dust did not affect him as it did Spock.

Christine was crouched in the sand to one side, wearing her summer attire of leather halter and loincloth, guarded by two other men, who watched the combat raptly. Whoever won this round would immediately be set upon by one of the watchers. None of them cared who lived or died, only that in the end the victor would take the woman there in the bloody arena, mating with her in triumph and in testament to his virility and strength.

Christine cared very much who won, however, for should Spock die, she would be the property of a stranger, his to use, abuse or destroy at his whim. And even if Spock prevailed in this current round, he still had two others to fight. Such was the way of things on Vulcan, where men killed for the right to mate and logic had never been practiced.

The Vulcan warrior made a lunge with his lirpa for Spock's mid-section, but Spock whirled away from the blade and swung the cudgel end at his opponent's head. The impact splattered blood and bone into the air and the man dropped, dead before he hit the sand.

Spock scarcely had time to draw a breath before the second man had leaped into the ring, brandishing his own lirpa. Spock countered his rush, the shafts of the weapons crashing together. Blood fever gave Spock the advantage of insane strength, but he was growing fatigued from exertion and the seeping blood of his wounds.

Still, he was deep into plak tow and this was a male intent on stealing his mate. All his primal instincts were inflamed by the scents of blood and pheromones that permeated the air. He gave a mighty shove and the second man stumbled back.

Spock was on him at once, gouging with the lirpa blade, aiming for a vulnerable spot. The man danced out of reach and Spock charged after him, swinging the lirpa in a fierce thrust.

The blade sliced through the man's thigh and he went down with a guttural cry. Seeing his opportunity, Spock slammed the blade into the man's chest, pinning his dying body to the emerald-drenched sand.

The third man hit Spock immediately, tackling him and bowling them both over into a tangled heap. The new opponent was already winding his ahn-woon around Spock's neck, twisting the strap into a deadly garrote. For a second, Spock grappled with him, trying to loosen the constriction around his throat, then his hand groped at his waist - and came up grasping the hilt of the Romulan hunting knife. His arm swung up and then down again, burying the long steel blade in his attacker's back. Again the hand rose and fell, once more finding its target, green blood flying away from its trajectory. A third time and the man collapsed on top of him, the knife sunk to the hilt in his spine.

Christine had been watching it all with her heart in her throat, too terrified to even move. The carnage had been too horrible for words, but now she felt an odd, exciting elation sing through her.

Spock was rising from the sand, his body slick with sweat and blood, his eyes on fire and fixed on her, his face a mask of savagery and barbarism.

He had won. He had won her. And now he was going to claim his prize. Even as he stalked toward her, he was untying the belt of his loincloth and it fell away from him, unnoticed.

The excitement pulsing through Christine surged as her eyes locked onto his massive erection and his arousal ran through her whole being like a wild fire. Her hands fumbled at her meager clothing, trying to get it free, then he was on her, ripping her covering aside with powerful hands and pushing her hard onto her back.

Before she could prepare herself, he was atop her, shoving one leg up and out to open her, and slamming into her with a force that knocked the breath from her body. His weight on her chest, thrusting with animal ferocity, prevented her lungs from refilling, and the thin atmosphere hampered it still further. She gasped futilely, tried to push him off her, and only succeeded in making him clutch her tighter and pump even harder within her.

Lack of oxygen began to make her vision go black and she fought with a panic-borne strength to dislodge him before she passed out-

.

* * *

Christine jerked into full wakefulness and for a moment could not get her bearings. It was night, she was in her own bed - and Spock was indeed clutching her tight, deep asleep, the fingers of one hand in a claw against her face. He was punching his hard erection into her hip with bruising force, grunting with effort.

She tried to squirm free, to breathe, but he only worked faster and drew her harder against him. "Spock!" she cried. "Wake up!"

No reaction.

"Spock!" She tried kicking at his shin. "You're dreaming! Wake up!"

He growled at her, deep in his throat, a warning sound that both startled and infuriated her. In her brain, the mental scenario was still rolling, like a holo she couldn't get out of. Unable to think of anything else to break his concentration, she got as much leverage as she could and slammed the heel of her hand into the bridge of his nose, a move she'd learned in hand-to-hand class.

"Wake UP!"

The blow not only knocked him loose from her, but knocked him off the sleeping platform as well. He hit the floor with an "oof!" and lay there for a moment, dazed. When he finally did sit up, it was to gingerly feel around his aching nose and comment, "I believe you broke it. Really, Christine, there was no need for such violence."

"I think there was!" she retorted, sitting up and peering at him, half in concern and half in consternation. "Really, yourself! If you want to fuck, you don't have to strangle me to do it! Just ask!"

"I apologize. I was apparently dreaming."

"Apparently! I felt like I was in an episode of Sonak the Barbarian!"

"More like Asakar the Barbarian," Spock responded and got to his feet.

"Who?"

"One of my Ancestors. From long before Reform. Truly, Christine, I think you broke my nose!" His fingers came away from his nostrils green with blood and he looked aggrieved.

"Here, let me see." Spock sat down on the side of the platform and Christine's expert touch assessed his injury.

"Ow!"

"Oh, hush! You sound like T'Jenn! It's not broken. You just have a nosebleed. Go put a cold wet cloth on it and it will stop in a moment."

Spock did as he was told and returned to the bed. "Now," said his wife. "Let's talk about what just happened. Is it Time?"

"Yes," Spock admitted, dabbing at his nose with the cloth. The bleeding was abating. "Soon, anyway. I didn't expect it for a few more months, but my internal chronology is skewed because of the many time changes we have undergone. We must make plans."

"What sort of plans?" She was puzzled. "Can't we just lock ourselves in our bedroom and take care of business?"

"No, not here." Spock checked the amount of blood again. Almost stopped. "We can't stay at Keldeen. There are too many men here."

They had come back to Vulcan following their trial, taking up residence at the family estate of Keldeen, which Spock owned through inheritance. It was tradition that when the Eldest died, Keldeen was left to the youngest heir, and thus Spock had received title to the estate from the passing of his great-grandfather when Spock was 22. The vast holding was a working agricultural station on the north side of the Llangon Hills, over 50,000 acres in tikh grain, which went into the Vulcan treasury of food that fed the planet. They also raised sheep-like animals that provided fleece that was used in clothing manufacture. Another 25,000 acres, located in the hills themselves, was too barren for farming and was a wildlife sanctuary, held in trust for the Vulcan people.

Christine remembered how shocked she'd been upon learning that Spock was an exceedingly wealthy landowner, although he seldom actually visited or resided here, and that the estate was managed by other family members in his absence. But he was the Elder here, no matter that most of the other family members were actually many years his senior, and his quarters were always kept prepared for his arrival.

The main dwelling was a sprawling, double-story house, looking more like an adobe pueblo than anything to Christine's eyes, clinging to the hillside and overlooking the plains of golden grain that stretched to the horizon. The thick walls of the house both shielded from the blazing heat of day and the frigid desert chill of night. Between family and staff, about 30 people lived here at any one time, and they had calmly greeted Spock and his family when they'd taken up residence approximately six months before. Security was almost invisible, but the swarm of media and hangers-on that they'd encountered on Earth had vanished as soon as they reached Keldeen. Nothing of the outside disturbed them here, unless they wished it.

For that, Christine was grateful. Her nerves were frazzled and she'd welcomed the quiet of the country estate. The children had settled in and begun lessons in the estate school, being tutored to help them catch up with their contemporaries, the dozen or so children of Keldeen's permanent residents. Life was become a soothing routine here, until this...

"What do you mean, there are too many men?" she asked and then visualized the dream. "Oh! You mean you'd actually fight them over me?"

"I mean exactly that," Spock answered with a sigh. "A male in pon farr cannot be in the presence of other males. The blood fever causes the type of insanity you saw in my dream. I would view even Sapel as a rival and attack him. We must remove ourselves to a place in the hills that is set aside for such a time. We will have female attendants there, as we should have had during the times on Avalon. You suffered needlessly then. I regret that. You will see now how such times are handled here."

"How soon?" she asked.

"I do not know precisely," Spock replied. "I estimate approximately ten to twelve days. We should begin making preparations in the morning."

"Okay. How's your nose?"

"A bit tender, but no longer bleeding."

"Good. Come here and let me kiss it all better." Spock glanced around at her in surprise, but she was smiling. He obediently bent toward her and she softly touched her lips to where she had hit him. Then she continued with her light kisses until she reached his mouth, where she leaned into him with more force, touching her tongue to his lips until he parted them. "Mmmm," Christine murmured when she drew away from him, although not too far. "Now, come back to bed and let's take care of your other problem."

"My other problem?"

"Yes, do I need to kiss it all better, too?" She grinned mischievously and he understood, his groin tightening in response.

"No, although I believe a vigorous massage might be in order." He stretched out beside her and took her in his arms, capturing her mouth.

When they parted, Christine whispered, "Just one thing, Barbarian Boy. Let me breathe this time, okay? It's a lot more fun that way!"

* * *

It had been a bad day all around, Sapel decided as he strode into the main hall of the house. He had been unable to fathom the problem that his tutor, Sarin, had posed to him and the harder he tried to figure it out, the more frustrated he'd become. At last, Sarin had stopped the exercise and ordered Sapel to meditate and bring calm to his soul.

Sapel had meditated alright, but his thoughts took him home, to Avalon, tramping through the tall grass of the plains, Maia at his side. Her long black hair rippled in the breeze and her green eyes sparkled like jewels in the sunlight, her honeyed skin warm and inviting. Her presence inflamed him and, in his thoughts, he envisioned himself taking her down into the fragrant grass and making love to her.

Sarin had noticed the teenager's increased breathing and had reached out to lightly touch his temple. The sexual heat he found there caused him to abruptly pull Sapel from his ruminations.

"This is not proper meditation," the tutor scolded. "I shall speak with your father. You are dismissed for the day."

The teacher had exited abruptly, leaving Sapel shocked and angry. He had gone for a walk to regain control, but it was the height of summer here on Vulcan and the blistering heat drove him back indoors after only a few minutes.

He tried the stables where the farmily's hox mares and foals were housed, but his crackling tension caused the nursing mothers to flatten their ears and bare their teeth at him, smelling a predator in their midst. The little long-legged babies bleated in terror and hid behind their mothers' flanks, and Sapel left, thoroughly annoyed.

Increasingly irritated by everything, Sapel stomped back to the main house. He didn't know why he felt so tense, so on edge. Maia kept slipping seductively into his thoughts, teasing him, and he felt ready to jump out of his skin. His groin felt tight, almost as it did when he was aroused, and he surprised himself by letting his eyes follow one of the young female house workers as she carried a tray through the main hall, on her way to the kitchens. With her long black hair, she almost looked like Maia... He started after her.

"Sapel!"

He flinched, startled, before turning to see his mother crossing the hall. It vexed him that she had interrupted his pursuit of the servant maid. He wanted that girl!

Christine was oblivious to her son's state of mind as she approached him. He was as tall as she was now, although he hadn't caught up with his father's 6'2" stature, and he silently faced her, eye-to-eye.

"What are you doing out of class so early?" Christine asked, coming to a halt before him.

"Master Sarin dismissed me," he answered stonily. "I couldn't please him today."

"Why not?"

"I just couldn't, all right?! Leave me alone!" The teen started to turn away but Christine reached out to catch his arm. Sapel jerked away as if burned. "Don't touch me!" he snapped. "You have no right!"

Christine's eyebrows were nearly to her hairline by now. "What is wrong with you?" she answered stuffily. "I'm your mother! I'll touch you anytime I like!"

Sapel's voice deepened to a dangerous growl. "You will not!" he warned her. "A woman may not touch a man who is not hers!"

Christine's mouth fell open. "Not hers?" she repeated in shock. "Who the hell do you think I am?! You're going to have a long discussion with your father, young man!"

Sapel's hand shot out and grasped her wrist, tightening like an iron band around it. "This does not concern him," he hissed, leaning in to glare into his mother's face, now registering sudden fear as she tried to tug herself free.

A long-fingered hand clamped onto Sapel's shoulder and yanked him around. "What are you doing to her?!" Spock roared, his face livid with anger.

For a few seconds, everything in the hall froze as if time had stopped. Father and son locked murderous glares, Christine stared at both of them, and the half-dozen or so residents of Keldeen who had been on the outskirts of the scene looked as shocked as Vulcans were able. Then abruptly all the bystanders averted their eyes and hurried out of sight. Every one of them had recognized what was happening and had fled the embarrassing scene as decorum demanded.

None of the principals noticed. Instead, Spock bent toward his son and ground out, "She is mine! If you declare challenge, we will summon an arbitrator and settle this now!"

Infuriated, Sapel raised a fist and prepared to attack.

Christine leaped between them. "Kroykah!" she shouted, the ancient command halting the two men in their tracks. "Stop this nonsense! What's wrong with both of you?!"

Spock stepped back, seeming to come to himself, although he did not drop his gaze from his son's sweating face.

Christine turned and jabbed her finger into Sapel's chest. "You, young man - go to your room this instant!" She whirled and did the same to her husband. "And you go to your room! I'll be up in a minute to talk to both of you!"

Neither moved and Christine clenched her fists and commanded, "NOW!"

Spock spun and stalked away toward the front stairs while Sapel retreated in the opposite direction, heading for another route to his bedroom. Christine stood alone in the main hall for a long moment, trying to still her beating heart, then she headed after Sapel, wondering how she was going to handle this.

* * *

Christine found Sapel sitting on the edge of his bed, his face buried in his hands. Sitting beside him, she slipped her arm around his shaking shoulders and squeezed gently. "It's all right, sweetie," she murmured. "Everything is going to be all right."

"I don't know what's happening to me, Mama," he sobbed. "Why did I do that? I feel like I'm going crazy!"

"In a way, you are," she soothed him. "Or, rather, your father is."

"I don't understand." He lifted his face and swiped at his wet cheeks with the heel of one hand. "Has Papa gone like ... like when ... T'Larin was killed?" The boy's eyes registered pure misery. He well remembered that Spock had gone nearly insane with grief and had deserted them to undertake a pilgrimage into the wilderness to recover his senses.

"No, no, honey, nothing like that," Christine assured him. "No, your papa is going into pon farr and you're getting the backwash from it. He and I will be leaving early tomorrow morning for a week or so until it passes. Otherwise, every male in the vicinity would be lining up with a lirpa and the intention of killing all the others. You, too, baby doll. You're old enough to be a threat to him. That's why you're both acting like wild men."

"But what can I do?" Sapel pleaded. "Where are you going that will keep that from happening?"

"Somewhere up in the hills. Papa says it's a family sanctuary for times like this."

Sapel sighed heavily. "That's fine for you, but I'm ready to scream. Mama, I hate this place! I hate the people, I hate the customs, I hate the heat and the food! I want to go hunting and eat fresh meat again!" He clutched his head once more, his composure slipping. "Why can't they let me alone? I don't care about all the stuff they're trying to make me learn! I can't act like them! I'm not a Vulcan! Just because I look like one doesn't make me one! Oh, gods, Mama - I want to go home!"

The young man began to sob again, his tenuous control breaking. For a while, Christine rocked him in her arms, waiting until he quieted and trying to think of a solution to her son's dilemma. Finally, she said, "I have an idea. How would you like to go back to Risa and visit the Hendriksons again? Verise said we're welcome anytime and I think you've worked hard enough to deserve a little vacation from school."

Sapel lifted his head and peered at his mother. "You mean it? Really?" The sudden image of Maia's green eyes appeared in his mind and his body tightened at the thought of seeing her again.

Christine didn't notice. "I think I can arrange it," she smiled. "But we won't tell Papa right now, though, okay? He's got enough on his mind as it is."

"Okay." For the first time, Sapel's face brightened and he smiled.

"Good," Christine answered, patting his hand and rising. "Now I've got to go calm down your father. You pack what you'll need and I'll be back later to get things ready for you."

The teenager rose and pulled his mother into a tight hug. "I love you, Mama! Thank you!"

* * *

Spock was pacing in agitation when Christine entered their bedroom. "Where have you been?!" he demanded roughly, then abruptly seized her shoulders and pulled her to him, planting his mouth on hers in a bruising kiss. His tongue thrust between her lips, nearly strangling her, as she struggled to push him away.

He saved her the trouble, suddenly pulling back then burying his face in her hair, snuffling her scent in deeply. Angrily he straightened and roared, "I said where have you been?!"

"I've been talking with Sapel!" she shot back, then calmed herself, realizing that he was behaving as the blood fever demanded.

"More than talking, I'd say!" Spock growled. "His odor is all over you! What have you been doing?! Why did he touch you?!" His fingers tightened painfully on her shoulders, digging in with cruel intensity.

"Spock - you're hurting me! Let go!"

With an effort, he released her and stepped back, but he was shaking and his breath came hard as he fought to control himself.

"Now," said Christine. "Let's try this again. You smell Sapel on me because I hugged him. He's my son, Spock. I can--"

"Hugged him?! Why?" The dark eyes blazed with barely restrained jealousy. "You want him, don't you?! You told me once that you'd do anything when the Time came upon him!"

"Spock! Get a grip! I was speaking out of utter desperation then. I don't know what I would have done, but I won't do it now! Anyway, he's not going to pon farr - you are! It's the fever that's making you talk like this! Stop and think!"

For a long moment, there was only the sound of Spock's labored breathing as the two stared at one another, then the Vulcan swallowed hard and took a long, cleansing inhalation. "I ... I am sorry, Christine," he said in a shaky voice. "You are correct. I had no right to make such accusations."

"I know. I understand." She peered at him anxiously. "How exactly are you feeling?"

"Afire," he whispered hoarsely. "I burn for thee, aduna. I yearn for our joining. It is hard to even be in your presence without the flame in my heart nearly consuming me!"

"Then it's time to leave," she assured him. "Is everything prepared?"

"The attendants left this morning," he gulped. "All will be ready." Her scent was overwhelming him and he involuntarily took a step forward. "Christine, I dare not stay here any longer. I am too near the time. I fear ... I fear I will take you here and we will never make it to the shelter if I do not go."

She could feel his arousal radiating through their link and was beginning to shudder with anticipation herself. "Will you meditate tonight?"

"Yes." He stared at her hungrily, then pulled himself away by sheer force of will. "I must go! Come to me at dawn." And without further word, Spock fled the room, leaving the gauzy door draperies to settle behind him in the hot, evening breeze.

* * *

The day was already hot as Christine climbed the steps to Shi-Katelaya, although the red sun of Vulcan had barely broken the rim of the dark Llangon Hills. Clad in sheer white robes and barefoot, as was custom, she was going to her husband alone, having been set on the path by the elderly women who had dressed her. The stairway was narrow but paved and easily followed, which was well because Christine had thought only for Spock, for their waiting bed, and for the joining of mind and body to come.

Sapel had been dispatched the night before to his grandparents with instructions to send him on to Risa. Then Christine, free of distractions, had retired to her bedroom and surrendered herself to the growing fire and need that crackled through her mindbond with her mate, somewhere ahead now and sinking rapidly into plak tow.

Her body dripped with sweat already, both from the climbing temperature of the summer dawn and from the sexual arousal that pounded within her. Her long hair, sun-streaked blonde, hung loose down her back, but plastered itself in dark tendrils around her face, making her fevered blue eyes all the more intense as she peered up the hillside to the small, low-slung dwelling ahead.

Was he there? Was he awaiting her? She could feel his nearness and it threatened to undo her. Unbidden, one hand stole to her full breast, fondling the hard nipple that strained against the gauze. She wanted his hands, his mouth on her! Wanted him inside her - both mentally and physically - and the answering surge she received back through the link told her that he strained toward the same goal.

Sweat trickled between her breasts like the fingers of her Vulcan lover and the slickness between her legs seemed to gush with new vigor. She had thrashed and moaned throughout the night, her hands upon her body, needing him with a ferocity that threatened to drive her mad. She had sought to relieve the tension with her hands between her legs, but it only intensified the distress of his absence. She ached for him, was in physical pain without him!

Unable to endure the waiting any longer, she began to leap up the final steps to the covered patio of the little building and with relief burst through the curtains of the doorway!

He wasn't there. He was coming to her, but he wasn't there yet. Panting, Christine's heart sank as she looked around the Place of Mating - Shi-Katelaya. It wasn't much more than a single room, its floorspace covered with a large, square futon, ivory-colored and cushiony, strewn with pillows and bolsters in muted desert colors. To the left was a small kitchen area where fruits and bread and wine were waiting. To the right was the door to a tiny 'fresher and beside that was an arched colonnade that led to a sheltered alcove. Through it, Christine could see a cascade of water falling from a rocky overhang, splashing onto a level stone floor and then running into a steaming pool. Flowers of gold and tangerine and cool blue framed the area, hung from vine-covered trellises, an oasis in the desert. Whether it was all natural or constructed she could not tell, for it blended into the natural setting of the surroundings perfectly.

It was beautiful and calming to the woman's fevered soul. The water beckoned her, promising to cool her flushed skin, and she moved toward it, stripping the robes away and leaving them where they fell. Without hesitation, she stepped under the cascade and turned her face upward, allowing the sensuous caress of the warm water to wash over her, sheeting across her back, dribbling off her breasts, trickling down through the patch of dark hair at her groin and then spattering onto the sandstone tiles underneath her feet.

Lifting her hands, she pushed her thick tresses away from her face, shivering not from cold but from the exquisite touch that reminded her so of Spock's - and that made her need of him surge up once again, calling to him through their bond. His presence was overwhelming and she closed her eyes and moaned out his name, begging him to come to her, to take her now!

Then suddenly, as if he had materialized from the very air, he was there, underneath the cascading shower with her, pulling her hard against his naked body, devouring her mouth, his hard, heated erection pressed up between them. Frantically, she returned the kiss, tongue fencing with his, both gasping for breath and groping with searching hands across the other's body. He broke away from her lips and continued to feast on her luscious body, working his way down her throat and collarbone, finally seizing one swollen breast in his mouth and sucking wildly at the engorged nipple, his other hand grasping and massaging one firm buttock.

Christine arched backward, groaning as the blood in her veins turned to a river of fire and the heat from her body rose like steam around them. Her heady, womanly scent and the taste of her salty skin broke the last vestige of Spock's tenuous control. With a deep growl, he straightened abruptly and seized her thigh, pulling her leg up to wrap around his hip. It took him only seconds to reposition his pulsing member between her soft, moist lips and then he shoved her back against the shower wall, hips punching against her, searching for the opening to her womanhood. In a heartbeat, he was within her, thrusting desperately as the primal needs of the plak tow took him completely.

Crying out, Christine clung to him, awkward as she balanced on one foot, but as lost in the act as he. Almost at once, Spock gasped and slammed himself deep, the first of the mating's many ejaculations ripping free from his body. It was not a relief. Indeed it only fueled the fire, urging him on.

Pulling out of her, he quickly swept her into his arms and collapsed with her onto the bed mat, heedless of drenched hair and dripping bodies. There was no time or thought for anything but the urgency of mating. Immediately, he covered her and plunged back into her welcoming depths, the head of his hugely distended phallus hammering for entry to her womb, where he would lodge until conception or total exhaustion brought an end to it all. It assured a successful mating, but the pain for both had long ago dictated a survival strategy.

As the firestorm of need enveloped them, Spock got his fingertips into position on Christine's face and opened his mind to hers, the lucid remnant of his psyche sweeping her away from the irrational lust and agony that was consuming them both, then neither knew anything more as the blood fever consumed them.

* * *

Amanda decided that a vacation on Risa was just what she needed. Even one so long acclimated as herself often felt the oppression of the Vulcan summer and, as she had grown more frail with age, she was more debilitated by the blast furnace temperatures than in her younger days.

At least that's what she told Sapel as they boarded the family's private warp shuttle and she wasn't entirely lying. What she didn't tell him was that she had deduced the situation and did not think it wise to send an innocent, unsophisticated teenage boy off alone to meet up with the object of his desire. And not only that. Sapel was a babe in the woods when it came to travel in the Federated Worlds. He was naive, didn't read well, and knew next to nothing about money. If he reached his destination with the clothes on his back, Amanda would have been surprised. No, the boy definitely needed a chaperone!

She didn't ask herself what Christine could have been thinking to send Sapel on a trip alone. She knew what was on her daughter-in-law's mind! Amanda had experienced it often enough with her own husband over the years and understood all too well what Christine was undergoing right now! Getting Sapel out of there was absolutely the best thing!

It was only a four hour flight to Risa, plus the time involved in takeoff, approach and landing. They could have saved a bit of time by transporting up and down from the ship, but the process unsettled Sapel and Amanda had to admit it made her a bit queasy, to. She much preferred shuttle travel.

So, during the trip, she and Sapel had lunch in the ship's lounge, played a simple game of cards that Spock had enjoyed when he was small, then they sat back and watched a nature vid about the savannahs of Africa and the popular wildlife parks there.

Sapel was silent for quite a while, then commented, "It reminds me of Terra Two, except there aren't any people there."

Amanda took in his wistful expression and asked, "You miss it very much, don't you, dear?"

"More than anything!"

"Would you go back if you could?" the elderly woman queried.

"You bet I would!" her grandson responded with a hint of desperation in his voice, then his face fell. "But I don't think I'll ever be able to. Papa says they won't let anyone go back."

Amanda considered, then confided, "I can't say what the outcome will be, but I can tell you this. Your grandfather Sarek is on Earth right now, testifying to the Federation Colonization Board. He is one of the few who've actually been there - to Avalon - and his voice carries weight. Plus the Federation really wants to open that world to settlement. But your little friends there are a problem. Earth won't colonize an inhabited planet generally."

"But people wouldn't have to live where the Teela'u live," Sapel argued. "Where we lived, there weren't any ... mostly."

"I know, dear, but they have to be careful," Amanda soothed him. "There would need to be treaties worked out. Lots of things like that."

The boy looked dejected. "I just know I want to go home, Granny. I don't belong here. I don't fit in."

Amanda smiled a little and answered, "When your father was your age, he felt the same way. He had chosen to live as a Vulcan and follow Vulcan ways, but he knew - as everyone did - that he was half Human. No matter how hard he tried, he didn't fit in, either."

"What did he do?"

"He left this world for another," Amanda responded. "He followed his heart and chose his own path in life." She smiled a little. "Confidentially, so did I when I married your grandfather. You come from a long line of rebels!" She gave a light, tinkling laugh. "Must be the Human in all of us!"

"Then ... then you're telling me ... I should leave?" Sapel asked hesitantly.

"I'm telling you to do what you know if right for you," his grandmother replied, once more serious. "Sapel, there is no greater tragedy than a life wasted by trying to live it as others think you should. If I had followed my mother's wishes, I would have wed a nice, safe Human man who thought and lived the way society said he should. I would never have known the joys or heartbreak of learning to be a part of an alien society ... or one particular alien's love. I would never have experienced the unbelievable magic of holding your father in my arms for the first time and knowing that somehow, against all odds, Sarek and I had produced this little miracle. I would have never watched him grow into the brave, honorable man he is today ... or known you, my dear Sapel, or your beautiful little sisters."

Sapel looked down, embarrassed, but Amanda wasn't through. "Spock also reached a time when he had to choose the path he would take in life. It was painful for him, because he wanted to please his father, but deep down he knew that Vulcan was wrong for him. His Human heart was calling him elsewhere ... and so he followed the call, to Earth and to Starfleet. He could have remained on Vulcan, but he would have been miserable, always knowing he was supposed to be somewhere else."

Amanda leaned forward in her chair and fixed her grandson with an intense gaze. "Sapel, listen to your heart! If it is telling you to go back to Avalon, then find a way to get there! And if it's telling you to take that Risan girl with you as your wife and partner, then find a way to do it! If it's right for her, too, she'll be half-packed before you finish asking her! But now I'm not going to say anymore. I've talked a lot and I'm going to shut up and let you think. I'll just say it one more time - follow your heart, Sapel. Follow your heart!"

And with that Amanda sat back into the soft cushions of her chair and closed her eyes, silent as the shuttle began its gentle approach into Risan space.

* * *

The journey back to consciousness was very long and slow for Christine, seeming to consist of blessed, cool blackness intermixed with patches of fiery red pain, centered for the most part in her lower torso. After a few moments, she would shy away from its heat and back to the dark where she dreamed of lapping waves or rippling grasslands or the soft gurgle of water trickling over rocks. Once, she seemed close to waking and cracked one eyelid in a tentative venture into wakefulness, but hastily shut it again. The red light had flared to white brilliance and with it an agony of being ripped asunder and impaled to dangle from a barbarian warlance.

She didn't want to see anymore. It hurt too much and that sparing peek had shown her that she wasn't where she was supposed to be. Her senses identified a medical facility with its unmistakable smell of antiseptics and drugs, the gurgle of water shown now to be the soft chirp and whirr of monitoring instruments. No, this wasn't right. She was dreaming, a nightmare. She was in the Place of Mating and Spock was in pon farr, locked into her mind and body. Or maybe it was over now. Her brain sorted out the images from the glimpse she had taken and she seemed to recall seeing Spock on a medical bed next to her. His eyes were closed and his face was haggard and wan, drained of life, a breathing mask over his nose and mouth, lines of bright green and pale blue liquid inserted into the side of his neck.

Something had gone wrong, she realized and fear-laced adrenalin lanced through her body. Immediately, her whole being exploded in pain and someone screamed. Then a soft buzz began and something warm flooded through her veins. The pain stopped and she sank back into blackness.

The next time she woke, she wondered if the children were up and ready for school. Jenn was always late because she poked around. Kai-Kai would already be waiting impatiently for her sister, the stern little Vulcan face staring censoriously as the older child found her tapes and shoes. Then Christine wondered why the room smelled so strange. Had Jenny spilled something? It almost smelled like sickbay on the ship...

She moved her head against the pillow and felt a soft, familiar touch stroke across her forehead. Her eyes still closed, she smiled lazily and tried to say "Good morning", but her throat was strangely dry and wouldn't make a sound beyond a croak.

Something - a straw - was placed to her lips and Spock's low voice instructed her, "Take a sip of water. Slowly. Do not try to move too much, aduna. You are very ill."

Christine blinked open sleepy eyes and found her husband sitting at her bedside. He still looked awful, gaunt and pale, but at least he was up and around, though still clad in the dusty blue medical coverall she remembered from her dream.

"What...?" she managed and became aware of the dull ache that held her in its grip. "Where are we? Ummm ... is it over?" She shifted painfully but not too much. There was too much torment when she did.

"Yes, beloved, it is over," Spock whispered in a sorrowful tone. "It was extremely bad ... for both of us." His dark eyes held a pain that had nothing to do with the physical as he gazed at her. "I injured you severely. We are at the ShiKahr Medical Facility. We were brought here three days ago and I have only awakened from a healing trance an hour ago."

Christine held him in her gaze, half-fearful, half-puzzled. "Why ... what went wrong?"

Spock swallowed and again stroked her face. "There was no conception," he answered in a hoarse murmur. "The pon farr lasted five days with no sign of completion. Healers were summoned to separate us, both mentally and physically, and we were transported here. You have undergone surgery to repair your internal injuries while I underwent the kan-sorn."

"I dreamed ... I saw you on life support," she ventured, her voice quavering.

Spock nodded. "I was dehydrated almost to the point of death and my body fluids had to be supplemented intravenously. As have yours." He glanced to one side of her and Christine noticed for the first time that she also had IVs inserted into her veins. One of them seemed to be a sedative pump that activated when the pain register on her biobed rose beyond a certain point.

"How ... how badly was I hurt?" she asked.

His face sank again into grief. "Your uterus was perforated and your left hip joint broken. Both have been repaired, along with numerous bruises and contusions. I am so sorry, t'hy'la," he whispered, lightly trailing his fingertips down her face. "I never meant it to be this way. Please believe me!"

"Of course I believe you," Christine assured him, still feeling weak and light-headed. "I know you can't control what happens. Are you sure I didn't conceive? I always have before."

Spock gently shook his head. "I would have known and the plak tow would have been broken. My body would have sensed the chemical changes in yours. That's why there was no end to the Mating. Both of us could easily have died if this had happened on Avalon without attendants. I am sorry, t'hy'la," he said again. "Truly sorry..."

They were interrupted by the entry of the petite Vulcan nurse who was watching over them. Spock's face went expressionless immediately and he rose stiffly, stepping away from the bed. The young woman only gave him a cool glance and then efficiently checked the readings on Christine's bed. "You are much improved," she informed the Human woman. "You will be allowed nourishment at the evening hour. It will strengthen you."

Christine almost answered, "Thank you," but then remembered her Vulcan manners and only gave a brief nod.

The nurse then turned to Spock and said, "You must return to your bed too, Sai. You are not yet strong enough to be released."

"I disagree," Spock answered quietly. "I am fully recovered."

"Healer Skodh disagrees," the little nurse retorted without the least sign of emotion. "You are to return to your bed now."

For a few seconds, there was a silent battle of wills, then Spock obeyed orders and lay back down. If his compliance pleased the nurse, she did not show it. Instead, she merely turned and left the room.

"She could give Leonard a run for his money," Christine smiled from her bed. "She has the McCoy bedside manner."

"Indeed," Spock returned and stared at the ceiling.

For a few minutes all was quiet in the hospital room, then Christine, fast falling back asleep, reached out her hand toward her husband and he was just able to touch his fingertips to hers. "I'm sorry, too," Christine murmured softly. "I wanted this one to work ... I wanted your baby ... one more time..." And then she lost her battle with slumber and said no more.

* * *

"Marry you?!" echoed Maia Hendrikson, her green eyes wide with astonishment. "Are you joking? I'm not going to marry you!"

The dark-haired teenage boy drew back as if he had been dealt a physical blow. "But ... but why not?" he asked.

"Sapel, I don't even know you," she sputtered.

"Yes, you do!"

"Not that well!" Maia answered. The two adolescents had spent the day together, swimming and exploring the limits of Panatonni Island, the resort on Risa that was the Hendriksons' home. It was now sundown and they had come back to the shore to watch the sun disappear into the ocean horizon. Maia had thoroughly enjoyed the day with Sapel, but this development had caught her by surprise. She struggled to get her thoughts in order. "We only met one time before. Anyway, we're too young!"

Sapel was definitely beginning to show signs of deep hurt. "What's our age got to do with it?" he demanded.

"Well, for Goddess sake, Sapel!" the girl replied. "We're both still in school, for one thing! In fact, semester holiday is over for me and I'll be leaving in a couple of days to go back to class!"

"You could come with me instead," he argued.

"Come with you where? Back to Vulcan? What would that accomplish?"

"No, I hate Vulcan," he answered somewhat sullenly. "I'm going home to Terra Two. Avalon, they call it." He looked up, his brown eyes locking on hers pleadingly. "I want you to come with me, Maia. I need you. I love you!"

The Risan girl sat back in silence, the ocean breeze ruffling her long black hair. Even at 15, she was mature enough to know that he was serious but needed to be handled gently.

"Sapel," she began, "stop and think about this. They're not going to let you just hop on a freighter and head out into deep space. You're the grandson of the Vulcan ambassador and the son of a Starfleet hero. Your family's like royalty or something on Vulcan. You've got responsibilities. Things they expect of you."

Sapel had dropped his head. "They expect too much of me," he grumbled. "I can't live up to what they want me to do. They never ask me what I want to do."

"And what's that?"

"Go home--"

"Yeah, yeah, you said that. But when you get there, what are you going to do with the rest of your life?"

"I... I..." That brought Sapel up short. "I dunno. Just live, I guess."

"Just live," Maia repeated skeptically. "What a great plan!"

"Look, that's not what I mean!" he protested. "I mean ... well, there's lots to do on Two! You have to find food and water and shelter, you know. And watch out for dangerous animals that might hurt or kill you ... and mind the weather 'cause it can get nasty ... and ..."

He fell silent, caught by the slightly horrified look on Maia's face. "And that's the world you want me to go with you to? It sounds dreadful! You plan to spend the rest of your life just trying to stay alive?"

Defensive now, he shot back, "No - I mean, Terra Two is a great place! It's really beautiful and there's miles of open space and fresh air ... any kind of land you want - mountains, prairies, hills, oceans, rivers... I really want to show it to you! Maia, I really want you to come with me and be my bondmate!"

But she slowly shook her head. "No, Sapel."

"It's what I want and my grandmother said if I really wanted it, I'd figure out a way to do it!" The stubbornness had crept back into his countenance and he was figuratively digging in his heels.

It triggered the same effect in Maia. "Well, let me tell you the facts of life, Mr. Sapel-Is-God! If they ever do open that planet to colonists, every single person they choose to go there will have an indispensable skill - maybe several - to offer the colony. Do you think they're gonna let you freeload along just so you can spend the rest of your life roaming around, hunting ground hares to roast? It may never have occurred to you, but it costs a lot of credits to get a ship from one planet to another! It takes dilithium, air, water, food, crew complement, and armaments to travel in space! I know - my dad's a ship captain! Your dad's a ship officer! He'd tell you the same thing. In fact, I'll bet he could tell you to the last credit and minim exactly what it costs to run a starship!"

She stopped to draw breath and Sapel tried to get a word in edgewise, but Maia's ire was fully up now and she plunged ahead. "You say you want me to go with you - well, has it ever occurred to you that maybe I have plans of my own? I'm studying biology and plan to go into exobiology research! I want to go out with my dad exploring new planets and cataloging new species! If I ever make it to Avalon - that's IF I ever get there - it won't be with you! I'm not going to support a lazy, spoiled little boy who just wants to whine about how bad he's got it when he's got the cushiest set up I ever saw!!"

With that, she vaulted to her feet and flounced off towards the house, leaving Sapel with his mouth hanging open and feeling as if he'd been whacked soundly between the eyes with the business end of a lirpa!

* * *

It was a very subdued Sapel who returned to Vulcan with his grandmother. She knew about the confrontation between the boy and Maia Hendrikson, but Sapel was disinclined to talk about it. Instead, he stared out the port the entire way home and Amanda let him stew. She'd seen Spock in such moods when he was that age.

The shuttle deposited them at Keldeen then dusted off for its home base near ShiKahr. Amanda wanted to spend a few days with her granddaughters before returning to her own home. And Spock and Christine were due back that day as well, Christine having recovered enough to be released from the med center.

T'Jenn and T'Kai were nearly out of control at the return of their parents and the simultaneous visit by their grandmother. The girls had to be reminded numerous times to maintain their decorum and finally, after Christine was settled into her bedroom, Spock took the girls down to the stables to view a new hox foal that had been born earlier that week.

In the blessed peace and quiet that followed their departure, Amanda sat with Christine in the cool of the climate controlled bedroom, which had been modified for Christine's comfort. Although the thick sandstone walls of the house blocked the fierce extremes of Vulcan's environment, this room had been equipped with a chiller that dropped the ambient temperature a few more degrees and also increased the oxygen content a bit. Christine was trying very hard to accustom herself to her adopted planet, but it was still nice to retreat to a more Earth-like atmosphere.

Amanda felt the same way. Slipping off her veil and fanning herself, she commented, "It's good to be home, but, mercy, it's hot today! This air conditioning feels so good!" She turned her full attention on her daughter-in-law, propped on pillows in the large bed. "And you, dear - how are you feeling?"

"I'm better," Christine replied, although she was still pale. "I ache in places I didn't know I had places, but the worst is healing and I should be up and around in a week or so." She sighed tiredly. "Honestly, I didn't know it could be so rough. It never was before. Spock was always as gentle as he could be, but this time..."

"Because before, you became pregnant early on, I suspect," Amanda said with sympathy. "The longer it lasts, the worse it gets. I know. I've had some very bad ones with Sarek. After Spock was born, I was still quite young and we expected that more children would follow, but I only managed to conceive once more ... and I miscarried almost immediately. In those days, Spock was truly a miracle because they didn't know much about Human-Vulcan crosses. Anyway, twice after a pon farr, I had to be hospitalized as you were. Sarek is a large, heavy man and, fully aroused, he completely overpowered me. Oh, not that he meant to, of course, poor dear. He was devastated by what he'd done to me, but the fact was, I simply couldn't take it any longer."

The older woman stopped and her gaze fell to the rug covering the bare stone floor. When she looked back up, her voice lowered to a confidential tone.

"Christine, I'm going to tell you something that not even Spock knows. Such things are not discussed among Vulcans and I doubt he ever thought about it." Christine's brows lifted in curiosity but she waited for Amanda to continue. "After the last time ... after I nearly died of injuries inflicted, Sarek and I knew it could not happen again. And yet, he was still in his prime. There was no way to avoid the fact that he would experience pon farr again and again. We had to find a solution."

"And?" Christine prompted.

"And..." Amanda hesitated. "And, the next time ... we hired a surrogate."

"What?!" Christine didn't know what she'd expected, but it wasn't this. "You mean - another woman?"

"Yes. She was a reldai at the Temple of Seleya," Amanda went on. "A priestess of the Mother Goddess Heya. You might call her a sacred prostitute, although such a label would shock the Vulcans to death. She joined us when it was time and served as the receptacle for Sarek's physical needs. I was there and melded minds with him during the Mating. It saved both him and me."

Christine had to know. "Did she ... did she ... become pregnant?"

Amanda's eyes sought the carpet again and her answer held the pain she felt. "That's something you agree never to ask," she replied. "It's a subject too taboo to discuss. I suspect the reldai have ways of preventing a pregnancy or at least ending it very early on. There are to be no ties after the Mating is done. She moves on to other men for the same purpose. She's just a tool."

Christine was silent as she absorbed the information. "It is a logical solution," she admitted at last. "Horrible to us Humans, but I can see how it would work for Vulcans who aren't bonded or whose wives aren't available." Her mind took the next step, though she didn't voice it. Instead, she and her mother-in-law exchanged meaningful glances. "Thank you for telling me, Amanda. I'll remember it ... when the time comes."

* * *

As Spock and his young daughters stood feeding the hox mare bits of sweet vegetables through the stable fence, Sapel quietly joined them. For a few minutes, he petted the vaguely equine animal and her new foal, then asked Spock, in an almost off-hand manner, "Papa, can I talk to you?"

"Certainly," Spock answered and waited. When Sapel didn't continue, he glanced at the boy and saw him send a meaningful glance at the girls. Spock's eyebrow flicked upward as he understood. "T'Jenn, take Kai back to the house now. It is time for her rest period."

"But we wanna feed Toqi some more," Jenny whined and little T'Kai also turned pleading dark eyes on their father.

"Now, T'Jenn," Spock responded firmly.

Grumbling, the girls gave the mare their last bit of treats, then left hand-in-hand for the main house. Finally alone with his father, Sapel spent a few more minutes collecting his thoughts and Spock took the time to note how tall his son had grown. Sapel topped his shoulder now, well on his way to 6 feet, though still slim and lanky, yet to fill out through the shoulders. The girls were growing up fast, too, he reflected. T'Jenn was 9 now in Vulcan years and was as long-legged and coltish as the little hox foal hiding behind her mother. T'Kai was 4, counting by the turn of time here, though as petite and elfin as ever, a true Vulcan child in every way. He suddenly felt a pang of ache in his heart and understood what his own father must have felt as he watched his child grow to manhood and away from him.

Sapel leaned his crossed forearms on the top rail of the stable fence and rested his chin on them. His eyes on the hoxa, he asked, "Papa? How old were you when you left home?"

Spock suspected something like this was coming and remained as even-voiced as he could. "I was sixteen when I was accepted into Starfleet Academy. I left home just after my seventeenth birthday."

"I'm sixteen now," Sapel answered. "Do you think I could go to Starfleet Academy, too?"

The older Vulcan sighed very quietly. "No, Sapel, I do not," he responded honestly. "You do not have the educational background to pass the entry tests. They can be rigorous. Starfleet chooses only the top 10% of applicants and there are thousands who apply each year. Sometimes the choice of students admitted comes down to fractions of a degree between test scores."

"That's what I thought," the teenager said despondently. He mulled things over for a minute then continued, "I've been thinking about my future a lot lately. About what I want to do. And what I want to do is go back to Terra Two. I don't belong here or anywhere else in the Federation that I can think of. Two's my home. I want to explore it and map it, study the animals and plants ... do whatever I can to keep it like it is now." His voice dropped and hardened. "I am going to get back there, Papa! Whatever it takes!" He remembered something Maia had said to him. "Even if I have to hop a freighter to do it!"

Spock studied his son for a long moment then said quietly, "If that is what you desire, then I agree that you should work toward that goal. However, do not be premature in hopping this phantom freighter. Your grandfather Sarek has informed me privately that the Federation Council is very close to lifting the quarantine on travel to Avalon and will open it to colonization in the near future. I advise that you increase your efforts at study in order to secure a place among the colonists."

"Maia told me pretty much the same thing," Sapel admitted. "But she also told me I wouldn't be allowed to go because of the family. That there was too much expected of me here. Was she right?" He finally looked up and locked his dark brown eyes on his father's face.

"It is true," Spock acknowledged. "You are Seventeenth Lineal Heir to the First Seat of the High Council and your Great-Grandmother T'Lar has let it be known that she is scouting around for an appropriate mate for you."

"What?!"

Spock raised a hand to calm him. "Do not let that alarm you. She is concerned that you were not already pledged at age seven, although our circumstances made that impossible. Now all the girls your age already have pledge-mates and she is having to look at the very young girls available, something she does not like because of the age difference. But she will do what is logical. However--" Again he interrupted Sapel's protest. "-however, I will not agree to such a match. I know that you do not wish it and would not be happy." He did not speak it, but Spock thought to himself, I know how miserable such an unsuitable mating can be.

Sapel seemed relieved. "Good, 'cause I don't want to be hooked up to some Vulcan girl for the rest of my life." He paused then surged on, "Papa, you chose Vulcan as your way of living. That's not for me. I'm three-quarters Human and that's how I feel. Papa, I choose the Human way in my life!" Then, lest he lose his momentum now that he was pouring out his heart, "And, Papa, when Granny goes back to ShiKahr, I want to go with her. I want to go to school at the Terran Embassy instead of studying here at Keldeen with a tutor. I know I've got lots of things to learn and I think I can learn them better in the city than here."

"Have you spoken with your grandmother about this?" asked Spock. "She is old and ill now. It might not be in her best interest to have you living there."

"I won't be any bother, Papa, I promise!" the boy pleaded. "And I can help take care of her. I helped take care of you and Mama and the girls lots of time, didn't I?"

"You did indeed," Spock conceded. "Very well, we will discuss it with Grandmother and Mama after final meal tonight. But we must obtain Samekh Sarek's approval as well. Remember, he is quite stern and will expect you to maintain both excellent grades and appropriate decorum if you live in his household."

"I will, Papa! I swear it!" Sapel's mood had lightened considerably and he seemed years younger as a result.

"Then let us return to the house. It is becoming much too hot to remain here," Spock answered. "The household will be in aftermeal rest and at quiet work. And I must check on your mother. I must not let your sisters or your grandmother tire her ... as they are likely doing."

"Thank you, Papa," Sapel said sincerely. "I won't let you down. I give you my word."

* * *

The ensuing two months had passed quickly and quietly. Sapel had secured permission from Sarek and Amanda to reside with them and begin school at the Terran Embassy in ShiKahr. The move and new environment seemed to agree with him, for he had buckled down to his studies and was obviously much happier in the company of Humans and other races than Vulcan.

T'Jenn and T'Kai, however, appeared to be thriving at the small school at Keldeen, little T'Kai especially, whose Vulcan genes were showcasing themselves as she developed. She was already speaking fairly fluent Golic, as well as her still baby-ish speech could manage and, though T'Jenn was having a little trouble with it due to obviously Human vocal apparatus, she was coming along as well.

The recent pon farr behind them, everyone concerned - Spock, Christine, and the household residents - acted as if it had never happened. That was the way here and Spock was happy to let the bad memories slip away and be forgotten. He busied himself through the days by catching up on 15 years worth of reading and research in his chosen field, Daystrom multitronic computer systems, and was beginning to turn a thought or two in the direction of securing a position at the Vulcan Science Academy and teaching there. He had no real desire to go into space again, other than routine travel, and was enjoying the contentment of a family and home life, feeling very much satisfied with his life here on Vulcan.

Christine had recovered fairly well, although she continued to feel that something was not quite right within her. Her energy level was not what it should be and she suspected a low grade infection might be hanging on following the rough Mating and subsequent surgical repair that had been necessary. Today, after Jenny and Kai were done with lessons, Christine had gone into ShiKahr to check up on Sapel, drop the girls off for a visit with their grandparents, and see her physician for a consultation. It was early evening now and they had not yet returned home.

Spock had no fear that anything was wrong, for he felt only contentment through the soft touch of the mindbond. As he stood now on the terrace of their home and sipped his saya tea, he watched the twilight deepen. The sun had set already and T'Khut was not in the sky at this time of year, thus the evening came on quickly and dark enveloped the holding of Keldeen, nestled on the northern side of the Llangon Hills. The sounds of night insects and reptiles gradually began to interject themselves into the dusk and stars appeared like diamond dust across the clear sky.

Spock could not suppress a secret smile. He still loved gazing up at the night sky, picking out stars he knew, places he had been, watching the barely visible streaks of ships going to warp as they left orbit for places unknown. For a fleeting second, those ships pulled at him, then he let the impulse die away. His life was here now. He had settled his family on his ancestral holding and here they would stay. It was where Spock ultimately belonged. He was Sixteenth Lineal Heir to the First Seat of the Council and would one day inherit it.

T'Pau, who had held the Seat for nearly 100 years, had died during their exile on Avalon. She had been 232 when she finally let go her tenacious hold on life. Her daughter, T'Lar, now ruled the Family. She was 189 and still vigorous. Next in line was Sarek, 136 and of uncertain health. His heart condition still troubled him and, worst, Spock had noticed a very slight tendency toward heightened emotions in his father. Spock worried that Sarek might be developing Bendii's Syndrome, but it was much too early for a diagnosis. More likely it was simple stress over the Avalon question, the events of his son's return, and Amanda's rapidly failing vigor. She would die in the next few years, an elderly Human, whose lifespan was half that of Vulcans. That made Spock think of Christine and his heart constricted that he, too, would outlive his adored wife. Then he shook that thought off as unproductive and took another sip of tea.

Spock was next in line for the First Seat and, after him was Sapel. Three-quarters human and not in the least inclined to follow the Tenets of Surak. The young man was Vulcan in appearance but Human in his thoughts and emotions. He had no interest whatsoever in following the well-carved steps that the Family wished him to take.

Spock sighed and took another sip of the cooling tea. Sarek must be regretting the long ago decision that disinherited Sybok and cast him from the Family as k'torr skann. At least Sybok was full Vulcan and could have produced full Vulcan heirs for the Clan, despite his rebellious and scandalous beliefs. But what was done was done. Kai'idth. There was no returning over a bridgeway knocked down.

And there was still hope for the Family, of course. Sarek's heirs were not the only ones available in the Heritage. There were cousins, the descendants of Salkar's other two sons, not as prestigious as the Eldest Sons of Eldest Sons, but rightful heirs nonetheless. No doubt the fact galled Sarek to the bone, but he had created the problem himself by marrying a Human and siring a son on her. It diluted the Blood and had shamed the Family. Now that half-Human son had also married a Human and further weakened the line.

Spock pictured the fury that must have boiled within Great-Grandmother -- T'Pau -- before her death, bedridden with extreme old age, but still ruling the Family with a fist of iron. She'd arranged the original match between Spock and his second cousin, T'Pring, when they were children in hopes of repairing some of the damage, but to no avail. Things had backfired spectacularly and had spiraled downward from there. More shame heaped upon the Family and now her eldest daughter, T'Lar, had taken over leadership of Clan duties. The latest directive coming down from the Matriarch was that Spock was to arrange a meeting between Sapel and T'Syldan, the daughter of another distant cousin.

It would never happen. Sapel had plans of his own and Spock fully approved them. Moreover, so did Christine and, in her own way, she was just as stubborn and strong as T'Lar. Christine was a survivor and she was determined that her son was going to be happy and live his own life!

A commotion in the house announced the return of his own family and Spock turned away from the desert view to greet his brood. T'Jenn was first through the terrace doors, at a run as was her want, followed more sedately by T'Kai. The two girls were as different as night and day ... or as different as Human and Vulcan. T'Jenn, now 10 standard years old, was by appearance and action, fully Human, blue-eyed and dark blonde like her mother. T'Kai, an incongruously dignified four year old, possessed all the innate poise and grace of her Vulcan forebearers. She would be absolutely breathtaking when grown.

"Papa!" announced T'Jenn and careened into her father, wrapping her arms around his waist and giving him an enthusiastic hug.

"Daughter, you must contain yourself," Spock reproved her mildly. "Such conduct is not seemly here on Vulcan."

"But we're at home, Papa," the girl responded, a little hurt by his rebuff. "Nobody can see me."

"The household staff sees you as do the other members of the Family who reside here," he answered. "You must learn to be less open in the expression of your emotions. You must be considerate of others' feelings."

"But you own Keldeen, Papa," Jenny argued back. "Why can't I do what I want to here?"

"Keldeen is a Family holding, daughter," Spock answered. "And it is polite to follow the customs of the people you live among."

"Okay..." Deflated, the little girl turned away.

Spock reached out and ruffled her hair. "I am glad you are home, Jenn," he said, smiling reassuringly at her. "Now, go get ready for evening meal."

She grinned and hurried back inside. T'Kai had waited politely for her father's attention, but there was an eagerness shining in her eyes, as well. With studied formality, she held up her right hand with her little fingers slightly spread. "Greet dee, Papa," she declared in slightly flawed Vulcan.

Greatly amused, Spock returned the ta'al salute and replied in kind, "I greet thee, my daughter."

That broke the child's reserve and she suddenly giggled in delight, returning to English. "We learn in school today, Papa!"

The tall Vulcan set his cup down on a terrace bench and knelt to his daughter's level. "You have learned it very well, Kai-Kai. You have done your family great honor today. Now, go and change for the meal."

The child skipped after her sister and Spock straightened back to his full height, noticing for the first time that his wife was standing in the doorway, watching the scene. Now she came forward and reached up to kiss him lightly. "Sorry it took so long," she said. "I intended to be home earlier."

"As long as you have returned safely," her husband replied. "How is Sapel? And my parents?"

"Good. All good," Christine responded and picked up the stone cup he had set down. "Tea?" She took a sip. "What's the occasion? You don't usually get this thing off the shelf."

"It is eighteen years since we were marooned on Avalon," he answered. "I thought to commemorate the event."

"Hmm... Not a memory I cherish in and of itself, but if it hadn't happened, we wouldn't be together today," she acknowledged.

"Indeed. What did your doctor find? Are you well, my wife?"

"I'm absolutely splendid," Christine responded, looking up at him with a smile. "I just need vitamins."

There was something about her manner that made Spock pause. "Vitamins? No infection? No residual effects from ... what happened?"

Christine glanced back into the house and saw that the kitchen workers were setting out dishes on the low table where the family dined. "I'll tell you after supper. Come on, let's eat. I'm starved! So, tell me ... how was your day?" And she took his arm, leading him in from the terrace.

* * *

Vulcan meals were silent, contemplative affairs, but Spock and his immediately family had long ago broken with tradition. The children were always eager to share the highlights of their day and their parents interested to listen. As a consequence, the family dined apart from the other residents of Keldeen, who found talking and eating to be separate activities. Most also considered Spock's adoption of Earth manners to be the result of his qomi heritage and tolerated it, although they did not condone it. It was simply one of his quirks, to be endured because he was Elder and wished it to be so.

There was much to tell tonight, for both T'Jenn and T'Kai had been to see their grandmother, who coddled them shamelessly, had been into ShiKahr and visited the Terran Embassy, where their brother was in school, and had watched shuttles lift off from the spaceport and disappear into the ochre sky.

Spock and Christine listened patiently to their daughters chatter until finally T'Kai tried unsuccessfully to hide a yawn and her mother declared their mealtime at an end and sent the girls up to get ready for bed. There was the usual amount of protesting but both went without much fuss. It had been a very long day for both of them.

"I'll be up to tuck you in later," Christine promised, then turned back to her own meal.

"You haven't eaten much," Spock observed quietly.

"Just a little tired, I guess," Christine answered and pushed her food around half-heartedly.

"You still haven't told me what the doctor said," her husband continued, steepling his fingers and resting his elbows on the table.

"He said I'm fine. That's about all." Christine kept her eyes averted and on her plate.

Spock caught the hedging immediately and cocked his head slightly. "He said more than that, didn't he?"

"All right. Yes, he did, but I don't want to talk about it here at the table. Too many ears in the vicinity," she said.

Spock's eyebrow went up and he understood. There were always people around and Vulcan hearing was very acute.

"Would you like to retire to the garden?"

"Yes, that would be nice." Christine smiled at him and they both got to their feet, leaving the remains of their meal to be removed by the kitchen staff.

Going back out onto the terrace, Christine shivered at the briskness of the desert night air and Spock snagged the paran wool wrap that hung by the doorway, settling it on his wife's shoulders.

"Thanks. That's better," she sighed. "I'm still caught off guard by how cold it can get at night."

They stepped off the paving stones and made their leisurely way among the native plants that filled the garden, many of them night-blooming and perfuming the air with delicate fragrance. Little nightflyers buzzed among the blossoms, feeding on sweet nectar, reminding Christine of hummingbirds, although the Vulcan animals were closer to reptiles than anything. They almost looked like minuscule dragons, dipping their long, thread-like tongues deep into the flower centers, then drawing back, lilliputian faces dusted with frosty pollen.

For some time, Spock and Christine simply walked, enjoying the dark garden and bright stars overhead. When they had gone a little ways from the house, he came to a halt and turned his wife to face him.

"We are quite alone now," he said, his voice taking on a hint of command. "Tell me what the doctor said."

"Kiss me first," she answered, moving closer to him.

"You are procrastinating," he retorted mildly, almost in warning but with a shade of humor to soften it.

"Kiss me," she insisted, "and I'll tell you." There was a sly smile on her face and her eyes twinkled in the starlight.

Spock bent toward her, canting his head slightly and taking her offered mouth firmly in a long kiss. As he lifted his lips from hers, she whispered, "Meld with me, Spock. I need to be one with you."

His emotions and curiosity piqued by her actions, he nevertheless lifted his long fingers to her face and easily found her psi points. The ways into her mind were familiar and he slipped along the pathways, encountering a bit of resistence as he did.

Then she opened her mind fully to his and he saw all that she had kept from him. With a gasp, he drew back and stared at her, almost uncomprehending at what she had shown him.

"This is not possible," he declared.

Christine was laughing with joy, her secret revealed. "It is! I am!"

"But how?" he demanded. "I would have known. You did not conceive!"

"They broke us up too soon," she grinned. "Your little wigglers were busy in my fallopian tubes when the attendants called in the healers. If they'd left us alone a little longer, we would have come out of it naturally."

"I don't believe it!" Spock was clearly shocked almost beyond words.

"Believe it!" Christine laughed back at him.

He was still gripping her shoulders. "Twins?!" She nodded, too overcome to speak, her laughter now mingled with tears of joy.

Spock pulled her into his arms and for a very long time they simply stood clutching one another, a maelstrom of emotions surging back and forth between them. And there was something else there, too, that gradually discerned itself as they sorted through their own emotions. Christine whispered against his ear, "Can you feel it?"

"Yes!" he responded. "They're here!"

She nodded and pulled away, wiping tears from her face. "I carried their katras from Avalon. We're getting a second chance. The boy is Soran and the girl is T'Larin. They've come back to us!"

Spock pulled Christine back into his arms, then with a most unVulcan reaction, he laughed out loud himself and whirled her around in pure unadulterated jubilation. It sent a flurry of nightflyers buzzing out of the surrounding blossoms in startled flight but the pair didn't care. He was kissing her for all he was worth and neither one cared who saw them or disapproved.

* * *

It took a little while, but the pair finally regained their composure and continued their stroll in the garden, following the winding path back to the terrace. Their joy still sang between them through their bondlink but outwardly they were calm and in control.

Hands clasped loosely behind his back - he didn't dare touch his wife, even in proper marital finger contact - Spock said conversationally as they walked, "I had news today myself."

"Oh?"

"My father contacted me privately to announce that the Federation Council has approved lifting the quarantine on Avalon," Spock replied. "They will be sending an exploration team soon in preparation for opening the planet to colonization."

"That's good news!" Christine answered. "Though I hope they are able to work out something with the Teela people. I really would hate to see anything happen that would adversely impact them."

"Indeed. It will be a delicate balancing act. That is why they are sending negotiators with the exploration team." Spock paused for a long moment as their path came back to the house and the lights streaming out onto the patio. There he stopped and faced his wife. "Sarek said they plan to ask me to go back to Avalon to act as ambassador between the Federation and the Teela."

Christine's mouth fell open in shock. "You're not actually planning to go, are you?" she demanded.

"I said I would give it due consideration," her husband replied in a calming manner. "But, no. I have no intention of going. Especially not now. I cannot leave you and the new babies or the girls, and you certainly cannot go with me. This pregnancy will require advanced medical care, I suspect, and I will not endanger you for any reason!"

Christine smiled warmly. "That makes me feel better. I know I'm being selfish, Spock, but I couldn't stand being parted from you like that. If you went, I'd want to go, too. And these little ones--" She rested her hand on her still flat abdomen. "-deserve better than being born in a cave or a field."

"I quite agree," he whispered and risked trailing his fingertips down her cheek. Instantly, nearly overwhelming desire flooded through him and he was forced to clamp down tightly on the surge of emotion that threatened to undo him.

Christine felt it as well and she was unsure which one of them was the source. Maybe both, combined and intensified by the urgency they both felt. "Let's go up and say good night to the girls," she murmured, her blue eyes locked on her husband's dark brown ones. "Then I really want to go to bed. I need you so much!"

"My aduna," he whispered huskily, the intensity of his fathomless gaze saying it all.

* * *

With infinite gentleness, Spock laid Christine back onto the pillows of their bed and followed her closely into their embrace, his gaze locked onto hers, filled with the love he felt for her. She reached up to caress his face as their lips met, eyes closing, and her hands buried themselves in the depths of his thick dark hair, her thumbs stroking the points of his ears.

Groaning against her lips, Spock sought entry between her teeth and she granted it eagerly. The kiss deepened as he drew her against him, their tongues fencing in the hot recesses of each other's mouths, each touch adding fuel to the growing flame that danced through their veins. Breaking for air, Spock moved his kisses to her eyes, her forehead, her cheeks, and finally under her chin to where her wild pulse throbbed in her throat. There he latched on and sucked as if seeking her very lifeblood, but instead leaving a purpling mark that branded her as his own, his mate.

Christine gasped deeply, her fingers still buried in the lush black mane, as he nibbled and kissed her burning flesh, and urged him lower. Spock complied readily, inching down over her collarbone to her chest and finally reaching the ample globes of her breasts. There he paused for a moment to simply look at her as his hands caressed her. She was 50 now and her breasts no longer stood as full and alert as they had when he'd first gazed on their smooth perfection. She had suckled three children and gone fifteen years without the support of an undergarment; there were faint stretch marks and her bosom sagged a bit against her chest, but to him she was absolutely beautiful. In his eyes, no more desirable or flawless pair of breasts had ever existed. The full nipples and rosy areolae stood proud and erect, beckoning him to feast on their bounty.

With a moan, he fell upon the nearest one, taking as much as he could into his mouth while his hand covered and massaged the other. His tongue licked and tickled, lips soothed, mouth sucked her in with fervor, but never to the point of discomfort. With his hand, he rolled and pulled at her nipple, squeezing with his fingers, fondling with his whole palm. After a few while, he shifted his position and switched breasts, treating each to the same attention. Back and forth he went until Christine was writhing underneath him, groaning with rapidly building arousal.

Then, with his free hand, Spock reached down and slipped his fingers into the moist cleft of her sex, sliding them lightly over the swollen protuberance he found there. Christine jumped in reaction and gasped loudly. Lifting his head to watch her face, he gently and thoroughly manipulated her throbbing womanhood, slick with her oil and quivering with incipient climax. At the very point he felt her ready to burst, he suddenly slipped his long middle finger into her center and worked it rapidly, again and again, deep within her.

Christine's whole body arched up off the bed with a cry as her first orgasm erupted. Watching her face closely, Spock continued his manual thrusting as her features became suffused with radiant ecstacy and she soared, caught in its flight. Then, as she began to come down, he withdrew his finger from her and returned to softly stroking her mound.

Breathing deeply, Christine opened brilliant blue eyes and smiled. "Wow!" she said and grinned wickedly. "Now it's my turn!"

"I had intended simply to pleasure you tonight," he protested mildly.

"Then allow me to play with you a little," she replied seductively, raising herself on one elbow, her eyes smouldering. "That will pleasure me."

"Play with me?" The slim dark brows rose in puzzlement.

"Mm-hmm," she smiled. "Just lie back and enjoy it."

Pushing at his shoulder, she got him to recline flat on his back and then she lifted herself up over him. At first, all she did was kiss him, long and languorously, savoring the taste of his tongue on hers. Once, he attempted to slide his arms around her body, but she gently fended him off. "Just lie there," she commanded.

Spock obeyed her bidding, though the warmth of her naked body hovering over his was sore temptation. Her full breasts dragged across his chest, nipples teasing the dark hair until he was nearly overcome with the urge to seize them and return to his earlier oral explorations. Still, he restrained himself, wondering what she had in mind.

He soon found out. Hoisting herself a little higher above him, she took his chin in her fingers and turned his head slightly to one side. With her other hand, she raked his thick raven hair behind his ear, out of the way, then descended on his bared ear with her mouth. A Vulcan's ears were sensitive erogenous zones, as she knew all too well, and her hot breath and lips brought him wide-eyed with a start. For a second, he almost shoved her away reflexively, then lay still, all his attention focused on her actions.

With her tongue, she followed the curves with delicate finesse, teasing, then sucked the exquisitely pointed tip into her mouth and worked it gently, pinching the lobe with her nails. Spock caught his breath with a sharp tremor and gripped the bedsheets with both fists, the fire in his groin nearly threatening to consume him. She had brought him fully erect and had not even touched his penis yet. Gulping, he clenched both eyes and teeth shut, holding his body in tense control.

Christine smiled at his reaction and lifted her face, turned his head to the other side, and repeated the treatment on his other ear, but this time faster and rougher.

It was more than he could stand. Grasping her shoulders, he pushed her away with a moan. "Christine! You are driving me insane! Don't you know what that does to me?!"

She laughed sultrily, deep in her throat. "Oh, yes, my love! I know exactly what it does to you!"

To prove her point, she reached down his torso and clasped the distended staff lying up flat against his abdomen. He was achingly hard, all the ridges and veins and hot steel giving graphic testimony to his arousal. Her fingers caressed him, stroked down to the base then trailed back up to ring him just below the crown, beginning to slowly pump him in her fist. Against her palm, she could feel the blood pulse with his wildly beating heart and, peering into his face, she whispered, "Do you want me to suck you? Would that feel good?"

He swallowed hard again and opened his eyes, pupils dilated until they were black with passion. "If you do, I won't be able to control myself," he answered in a husky baritone. "I am so near now that I am about to come in your hand. Do you want this?"

"No," she murmured back, her features holding the same strained expression as his. "No, I want you in me!"

Releasing him abruptly, so that his turgid penis bobbed up free, Christine swung a leg over his hips and crouched above him on hands and knees. "Put it in me, Spock," she ordered in a breathless whisper. "I need you in me!"

His own respiration shallow and rough, Spock reached between them and grasped his erection, bringing it up vertical toward the tantalizing goal she offered. He clenched his teeth together as the nerve-packed tip pushed between her soft, swollen folds and lodged in the mouth of her vagina. For a long second, they hung there motionless, then she exerted downward pressure with her body and the ridges of the head popped past the muscles that rimmed her opening and he was inside her.

Both gasped and shuddered at the initial little explosions of sensation that accompanied penetration, then she settled down astride him, taking him fully within her. He never got used to this, he thought as she braced her hands on his shoulders and began to move. No matter how many times they joined in sexual union, it was always as the first. He had undergone several sexual encounters before he met Christine, but he had never known the emotional fulfillment of making love as opposed to simply having intercourse. Vulcans were taught that they could not experience love and thus, for most, sex was a procreational activity, not a time of bonding with their mates.

Christine had taught him what it was to love and be loved in return. And he knew that he truly loved her now, more than ever. Peering up into her beautiful face, framed by her sable hair and youthful despite her age, Spock felt compelled to be completely joined with her. Reaching up, he slipped his hands up her cheeks and let his fingertips unerringly find her psi points. Her mind opened eagerly to his and he sank into her thoughts with practiced ease.

Drawing her down to his body, he rolled her beneath him and took control, both physically and mentally, and as she gasped and clung to him, he took her back to a place far away in their memories.

* * *

As deftly as he plucked the strings of his lyre, Spock plucked memories from Christine's mind, beginning with the first time they'd ever laid eyes on one another, the day she'd beamed aboard with McCoy as part of the replacement medical team. Spock had been standing beside the transporter operator, ready in his capacity as First Officer to greet the newly arrived officers and give them their personnel packets. Christine had found herself entranced by the cool, dark alien eyes and for a few seconds' time, she forgot how to breathe...

The memory changed abruptly to one of pain and revelation. The ship was in a death spiral and they were all sick with a madness they seemed powerless to stop. She had caught his hand, caressed his face and confessed her love for him. It had stopped him cold, amazed that anyone would love him ... that anyone could love him, unaware that she had unwittingly passed the infection along to him with her touch. He spoke her name and filled it with longing and sadness, so that she understood and let him go. It didn't matter that they were about to die. He knew now that she loved him and he had responded as well as he could, telegraphing his regret to her that it could not now be.

//I nearly came back to you,// Spock's voice whispered in her mind. //Do you know that I wept because I could not love?//

That brought an answering twinge of shock from her, but he moved her further along the path of her memories - all the times she had cared for him in sick bay, or they had worked side-by-side in the labs, or simply exchanged a glance across a room...

Her memories rested for a moment on the events at Exo III, at his strength and gentleness toward her when she lost what she had come here seeking, at how, as they'd pulled out of orbit, Spock had stood beside her on the bridge and then followed her with his eyes as she walked away and boarded the turbolift.

//You have beautiful legs,// his thoughts commented and she glowed with pleasurable warmth.

Again her mind sped ahead until they hit against the awful events of Deneva. He had never experienced such pain as then and his emotional control threatened to crumple under its assault. She had been beside him as much as she could, not daring to touch him lest she break his concentration, but sending silent support and love his way. And, when he'd found himself blind, alone in the dark, it was her hand that sought his, giving him a solid presence to hang onto. She didn't speak during this time, but simply waited as he came to terms with his shock and panic, and he began to love her for the strength and control she offered him until he was whole once more.

And then a scene burned in her memories because it marked a turning point in their relationship - his cabin ... the trip to Vulcan ... and his first overt step toward her.

"It is illogical to protest against our natures, don't you think?" he'd asked her and, though she professed not to understand, she knew. Oh, how well she knew what he was offering her.

And then he stepped toward her and cradled her face between his hands, bending to kiss her with lips as hot as brands, searing himself into her soul.

//That's not how it happened!// her mind protested.

//It is how I wanted it to happen,// he answered and took the altered memory forward, their clothing falling away as he devoured her - demanded her - and took her down onto his bed to claim her as the mate he wanted, the woman he needed above all others. Clinging to his burning body, she opened herself fully to receive him, experiencing the odd dual sensation of feeling his climax simultaneously in her meld-dream and in the reality of their entwined physical bodies.

When both had recovered, he moved her ahead once more, skimming over memories until the shooting on Neural. He'd lain near death, so deep in a healing trance that he nearly lost his hold on the world outside his own mind. She had anchored him, the touch of her hand gripping his giving him the thread to consciousness he needed to find his way back. By the time he'd recovered, there was a bond between them that felt as comfortable and well-worn as a lifetime with a bonded mate - and she felt it, too!

The comfort level of their relationship deepened as the everyday remembrances sped by. More glimpses of day-to-day life ... familiar nods exchanged ... friendly words spoken ... quiet companionship as they worked ...

Then their mental journey reached the encounter with Henoch and here Spock hesitated, swaddling Christine's mind in comfort, for the alien being had used the Vulcan's body to violate Christine, both mentally and physically. Each of them had been raped by the powerful entity, something Spock had not learned until Thalassa had placed his consciousness into Christine's mind for safe keeping.

The blending of their minds had been a maelstrom of emotions on both their parts and Spock had been forced to cocoon the woman's psyche in strong mental bonds in order to protect himself and her as he took on Henoch in a final battle. But in doing so, he suddenly knew Christine better than she knew herself. In the flash of their touching souls, he had read her katra, everything she was and hoped to be - and quickly isolated himself from her. Such vision was a violation in and of itself and anathema to a well-trained Vulcan telepath.

After they were separated, Spock had stood beside her on the bridge, mortified by the whole occurrence and knew they both had a lot to deal with, whether individually or together. It had taken a long time and a lengthy regimen of counseling before Christine was able to feel comfortable with Spock once more. Likewise, he meditated for days before he could face her with any sort of equanimity. It put a distance between them again, one that ebbed and flowed but which gradually receded until the two were able to interact with a warmth that had only begun to glow before Henoch invaded their lives.

Then came Platonius and the nightmare repeated itself for both of them - powerful beings controlling them like puppets, forcing them into intimacies against their wills. And once again Christine found herself pressed beneath Spock's body, his mouth bearing down hard on hers, his groin grinding into her pelvis. Involuntarily, her mind began to scream, living Henoch's rape all over again, powerless to resist.

Then suddenly Spock's thoughts brought her back to the present, calming her, reassuring, his strength and gentleness wrapping her in radiant heat.

//Don't be afraid. It's in the past. I won't let anyone hurt you again. I won't hurt you, beloved. Concentrate on me, Christine, not the memories. Hide in my thoughts. Hold onto me.//

And she did, her thudding heart beginning to slow to a normal rate, even as the remembrance of Parmen's cruelty continued to play in the background of her mind, like a half-forgotten dream. She was home, she told herself. In Spock's arms, in their bed, safe and loved, and she found herself giving a little moan in response.

//I had wanted you for so long,// her mind whispered. //But not like that. Oh, Spock, forgive me...//

//Shhhh... There is nothing to forgive,// he answered. //You were there because they found you in my mind, as the one woman I desired and could not have. They brought you down to taunt and torture me with that knowledge.//

//Oh, Spock, all you had to do was ask,// she responded with a touching sadness.

It seemed that he locked his depthless brown eyes onto hers, intense and utterly devoid of any pretense. All ways were opened between them, for he had dropped the illusion of any indifference he'd ever had toward her.

For a long moment, the compelling gaze held the two together, then Spock whispered into her mind, //Then I ask, Christine. I ask...//

With a delighted laugh, she slipped her arms around his neck and drew him down to kiss her. "A little late, but appreciated nonetheless," she said out loud.

He pulled away from their meld and moved off her so that they were snuggled together, their bodies still in full contact from shoulder to foot, her moist skin pressed into his warm, dry length.

"That was interesting," she commented. "Any reason for this little trip down memory lane?"

"I was simply feeling ... um ... nostalgic tonight," Spock replied with a little smile. "As I said earlier, it is the anniversary of the day we first set foot on Avalon and began our life together. I had intended to take us through all our time there." He peered at her speculatively. "Do you wish to continue?"

"No, not really," she answered. "I'm a little tired."

"Of course. Forgive me. You must be sure to get adequate rest now." Lovingly, he trailed the back of his fingers across her abdomen.

"I'm okay," she assured him. "But it has been a long day."

"I am inexcusably selfish, beloved," Spock whispered and stroked her face. "Sleep now." He leaned to kiss her lightly then settled into his pillow and closed his eyes.

Christine did the same but found that, even though her body was tired, her mind was wide awake. As she tried to relax, she became aware of the late evening silence and that the night sounds of Keldeen were more noticeable than they were in the daytime. The breeze made soft music as it flowed around the tiles of the roof and leatherwings squeaked quietly in their nocturnal flights in search of insects. Far overhead came the nearly inaudible doppler of a ship heading out from the ShiKahr spaceport on the other side of the Llangon Hills. Somewhere in the house, soft voices spoke together in Vulcan and a door closed. And very far away, in the wilderness of the hills, came the squawl of a hunting le-matya.

"Did you hear that?" Christine asked, sure that Spock was still awake beside her.

"Yes."

"It made me think about the lions on Terra Two."

"Mmmm..." He acknowledged her without opening his eyes.

She was quiet for a few minutes then giggled softly. "Do you remember our first night there? How we spent it in a tree?"

"Of course."

"I ripped my hosiery trying to climb that tree."

"I got an excellent look up your skirt as I boosted you into that tree," he replied in the same half-asleep voice.

"Spock! You are the biggest lecher I have ever known!" she declared in mock outrage, then chuckled again and teased, "You could've looked anytime if you'd just asked, you know."

"Again with the asking," he murmured.

"Oh, go to sleep!"

"As should you."

Again Christine fell silent and Spock's breathing became heavy and regular. Still, her mind galloped along at full speed. She shifted more onto her back and slipped one hand behind her head, her gaze watching the faint play of lambent light on the ceiling. It hadn't been so bad there, she reflected as her thoughts drifted to the sun-washed plains of Avalon. The blue sky stretched cloudless over the vast savannah, herds of mesohippus horses and antelope grazing in harmony on the golden grasses. Dark spots showed little groups of bison, the huge black bulls watching over their cows and calves, occasionally shaking their horns at one another.

Christine absently rested her hand on her abdomen and felt the tiny spark that was Soran acknowledge her. She had lost the baby in a bison attack but his nebulous katra had lingered to ultimately rejoin his mother's soul. Intertwined with his, T'Larin stirred beside her brother. They were barely formed inside Christine's womb and there was no sentient thoughts, simply the basic awareness of self and each other.

With a fond smile, Christine rubbed her belly and let her eyes drift shut. Again her thoughts went back to Avalon and she dreamed. This time her children - all her children - walked with her in the glorious summer afternoon.

She was hand-in-hand with Spock and they were as they had been there. Spock's raven hair hung loose, nearly to his waist, blue-black in the hot, brilliant sunlight, his bronzed, muscular body naked to the waist. Below he was clad in fringed leggings and breech cloth, knife sheathed at his waist, moccasins on his feet. She wore a soft leather dress, beaded with little shells, and her own soft shoes. Sapel, now a wide-shouldered young man, wore only a loincloth, and his nearly teenaged sister, T'Jenn, a hip wrap and halter. But the little ones, T'Kai, T'Larin and Soran, were gleefully naked as they chased butterflies through the waving grass, spooking hoppers and beetles into flight as well.

Trailing behind them was Scruffy with her latest litter of spotted kittens and ahead, lying in the crook of a tree, was Mooch, the little ferret-like animal they'd lost so long ago, crouching and watching them with her bright black eyes. Out on the plains, a dun-colored mare whinnied to her foal and they trotted back to their herd.

"Oh, look, Spock," Christine said in her dream. "It's Mezzie! She did make it through the storm, after all."

"Of course she did," he answered in his wonderful deep voice. "We all made it through." He nodded toward the treeline on the edge of the plain and Christine turned to see a group of small upright figures making their way through the tall grass. Some carried spears, others packs on their shoulders. Even small ones leaped and chased each other about in play.

"Picku!" exclaimed Christine as she recognized the troop of lemuroids coming toward them.

The Teela'u female stretched out her hands and clasped them warmly in Spock and Christine's. She was only chest-high to them, her golden eyes wide and wise, long creamy fur now shading toward gray. Her dark-skinned face was scarred and her shoulders stooped with age.

//My friends,// she said telepathically. //It is good to see you return.//

//We feel great joy to see you,// Spock replied.

//Our parting was sad,// Picku acknowledged then turned her eyes on Christine. //Your children grow.//

//Yes. And yours?// Christine indicated the young lemurs hanging back behind the adults and staring in mixed amazement and curiosity at the strangers.

//My children's children,// Picku replied serenely. //I am old now.//

//And do you live in peace?// queried Spock.

Picku looked back up at him. //Our enemies are far away,// she said. //Unless you bring new ones.//

Her gaze lowered and went past him. Christine and Spock both turned and saw what the Teela'u matriarch referenced.

A hundred yards behind them were humans - men, women and children. Several dozen of them. They waited expectantly, silent, and Christine understood. It was the colony, poised and ready to begin their work here on this planet. They were waiting on Spock, the ambassador and liaison between themselves and the Teela people. Among them was a green-eyed girl, but her gaze was locked on Sapel and his was on her. They seemed to be poised on the threshold of their own future. Christine could only close her eyes and wait to see what happened.

Abruptly, she found herself awake and back in her bedroom, some night sound having woken her. Spock slept peacefully beside her, his breathing bordering occasionally on a soft snore, one large hand resting lightly atop her abdomen, sheltering his children within her. For a moment, she lay savoring his protective, masculine presence beside her, loving him for it, but her mind was still whirling with the sights, sounds and smells of Avalon, and the dream lingered, begging to be resolved. She closed her eyes once more and tried to fall back asleep.

But her brain obstinately refused to sink into slumber. Restlessly, she turned over her memories of their home in exile - the cave and the creek, the waterfall and pond ... the crack of ice in winter and the enfolding heat in summer ... the taste of fresh-picked berries in fall and the first green shoots in spring... storm clouds flickering with lightning on the horizon and black, crystal-strewn skies at night ... the ocean breeze and scent of pines at Sea Home, the steaming hot pool there, the trickle of rock-born springs on the hillsides ... the dangers and freedom and struggle and limitless expanses ...

The slight tension of her body and activity of her mind caused Spock to stir beside her. "What's wrong?" he asked in a low voice.

"Nothing. I was just thinking."

"Mmm..." he murmured and shut his eyes again.

For a minute she was quiet then said, "You did tell Sarek you wouldn't go back to Avalon, right?"

"I told him I would give it due thought."

"But that meant 'no', didn't it?"

"Yes." His voice was muzzy, sinking back into sleep.

Again there was silence then Christine spoke once more. "It would be insane, after all, to uproot the kids and go back there, you know." She sounded as if she were stating the obvious.

"Yes."

"With the babies coming and the girls just beginning to do well at their schooling."

"Mmmm..."

"And Sapel finally settling in..."

He didn't even answer this time.

"And me finishing up my medical degree and all. I mean, I'm just getting back into the swing of bioresearch and helping Leonard with those samples we brought back from there. There's so much work to be done on classifying the diseases of a new planet!"

Spock opened his eyes and stared at the silhouette of his wife. "If it will make you more at ease, I will contact Sarek in the morning and give him a firm 'no'."

"No, no, I believe you," Christine answered hastily. "There's no need for that. I mean, Sarek knows you're talking with the Science Academy about a position there. He should know better than to ask you to do something so foolish as drop that and go back to that god-forsaken planet we were on!"

"If it will help you relax and cease worrying, I shall call him immediately!" Spock retorted.

"Whatever you want..." his wife said distractedly and trailed off.

She didn't say anything else and silence descended once more. Spock was just getting back to sleep when Christine's voice came out of the darkness yet again.

"It's just that I was thinking ... about Terra Two and the colony..."

Spock sighed and resolved himself to getting no more sleep this night. "What about them?" he asked resignedly. After all, he told himself, Christine was pregnant and pregnant women sometimes must be indulged.

"Well..." she said slowly. "I was just thinking about all the things they'll need and the jobs to be done. You know, we know so much about the planet that they'll need to know... The least we could do would be serve as advisors, I suppose."

"Of course. And?"

"Well..." She hesitated and then continued thoughtfully. "Well, I was just thinking ... a new colony like that... They're going to need a doctor on staff, aren't they?"

THE END