DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc. The story contents are the creation and property of Tam and is copyright © 1999 by Tam. This story is Rated NC-17 for mature situations. You must be 18 years of age to read this.

Exigent Succor

Tam

Spock entered the Starfleet Medical Building and approached the nurses' station.

"Where would I find Dr. Chapel?"

The nurse behind the counter looked up. Because of the exploits of the Enterprise and Captain Kirk, everyone knew who Spock was. What was he doing looking for Christine Chapel?

"She is in the Residents' Lounge. I will go get her for you."

"No, I will find her myself," answered Spock.

As he entered the lounge Christine was facing away from him, her head bent over paperwork. She was so involved that she didn't notice that someone had entered the room. He took the opportunity to gaze at her. She was thinner and the lines of stress were more pronounced than the last time that he had seen her, but she was still an attractive woman by human standards.

After he finished his perusal of her, he called, "Dr. Chapel, may I speak with you?"

Christine started, then did a double take when she turned to verify her instant recognition of Spock's voice. "Commander Spock, it has been a long time. What can I do for you?"

"Dr. Chapel, I wish to arrange a meeting to discuss a predicament with you."

"Commander, I am just finishing the paperwork after a 24 hour rotation. Would it be possible for us to meet this evening after I have had some time to rest?"

"That would be acceptable. If you will agree to meet in my quarters, I will provide a meal."

"That will be fine, Commander."

"Until tonight, Doctor." He took his leave of her.

* * *

Later that evening Christine arrived at the appointed time. Not knowing what to expect she dressed casually. Not allowing herself time to second guess her decision to agree to this meeting, she signaled her arrival. The door was immediately opened by Spock.

"Welcome, Dr. Chapel, thank you for agreeing to meet with me."

"Let's just say I was intrigued, Commander," she answered.

Spock stepped back to allow her to enter, "Would you care for a drink?"

"Whatever you have will be fine," she replied softly.

"Would you care to drink it with your meal," asked Spock in his usual impassive voice.

"That will be fine," answered Christine.

"I made a vegetarian lasagna. It is one of my mother's favorites," said Spock.

Christine seated herself, and Spock poured her glass of wine, and then placed it along with a plate in front of her. He then set his place and took the seat opposite her.

Christine waited for him to bring up the subject of this meeting, but he just sat there eating in silence.

He looked over at Christine and raised an eyebrow, so she began to eat. They sat in relative silence until the meal had been consumed and cleaned up. Spock then refilled their wineglasses and escorted Christine into the living room.

As they sat opposite each other, Spock finally began to speak. "I know that you are inquisitive as to why I requested this meeting." At Christine's nod, he continued "I am in the first stages of pon farr and need your assistance."

"Commander..." Christine trailed off in amazement.

"It is in your capacity as a doctor that I need your assistance," stated Spock.

Christine started again, "Commander, shouldn't you be headed to Vulcan before your condition becomes critical?"

"I am unbonded and have not chosen a mate in advance. There is nothing that can be done on Vulcan that cannot be done here," answered Spock.

"How can I help you?" asked Christine.

"As I am unbonded there are certain meditation rituals to overcome the rages of pon farr. The danger being that the meditation is deeper than even a healing trance, therefore observation is required," answered Spock.

"If only observation is required, why do you not go to your CMO or your personal doctor?" inquired Christine.

"This is a personal matter that is not discussed with outsiders. There are no Vulcan Healers presently in the vicinity, therefore as you are already aware of the condition, logic dictates that you are the appropriate choice." Spock's tone was starting to display his impatience.

"I was only a nurse at that time. Wouldn't Leonard be a better choice?" she asked.

Spock's frustration at what he perceived to be Christine's reluctance to provide the required medical assistance grew and his voice tightened. "As you know, Dr. McCoy has retired from Starfleet and is presently visiting his daughter. I have been unable to contact him. I do not understand why are you fighting the logical answer to this situation. I am not requesting your participation in the 'blood fever', even though your previous behavior would indicate not only a willingness to assist, but to participate."

Christine flushed in embarrassment and anger. "Commander, that remark was uncalled for, nor was it necessary. I am merely trying to gather all available information before I decide on a logical course of action."

"I ask for your forgiveness. Loss of emotional control is one of the symptoms of the condition. This loss of emotional control indicates that the condition is becoming increasingly urgent. In later stages the level of meditation required is impossible to obtain. I appeal to you on your 'medical oath' to provide the assistance necessary." Spock looked directly into her eyes.

"I understand the urgency of your condition, but another part of my oath is 'to do no harm.' Without further information, I'm afraid that my lack of knowledge has the potential to cause harm," responded Christine in a professional tone.

"If you agree to help, I will provide case histories for you to study. With your acceptance, confidentiality would be provided in the doctor/patient relationship," answered Spock.

"The information would be invaluable, but I will abide by your request for privacy," replied Christine.

"Does this mean that you will honor my request for assistance?" asked Spock.

"It's not like I truly have a choice," answered Christine quietly.

"That is correct, without your assistance I will die. I do not believe that you will allow that to happen," stated Spock calmly.

"Yes, if I can prevent a death, I will. I will need to know approximately how much time is required, so that I can begin to make arrangements," replied Christine.

"It shouldn't take more than seven days to complete the meditations," answered Spock.

"It will take me a couple of days to rearrange my schedule," said Christine as she mentally went over it in her head.

"Two or three days is safe, but as I have said time is urgent," Spock reminded her.

"I need to get started with the arrangements and study the cases you will provide me with. I will let you know the details." She headed for the door.

Keeping step with her, he follow her to the door, but blocked it at the last moment. "Doctor, I wish to thank you for your assistance and apologize for as humans would say forcing your hand."

"I do understand, Commander. I accept that it is logical and inevitable." She looked up and offered a smile to enforce her resolve.

Spock brought up his hand to stroke her cheek. "Good night, Doctor."

She moved around him and stepped out the door, uneasy about the effort it took Spock to maintain control.

* * *

Two days later, when she arrived at Spock's quarters, he opened the door and blocked her entrance. Placing a hand on her arm, he pulled her into the room. "What kept you?"

She stepped back from his grasp. "I'm here now, so let us begin with an examination." She led him over to a chair and scanned him. She had grown more concerned with each emotional display, but was relieved by the results of the examination. The readings, though they were fluctuating, were within the normal limits of the cases she had studied. "Commander, your condition is stable enough to attempt the meditation. Let me set up the monitoring equipment, and then you may begin your preparations."

Upon completion of the task, she left to give him privacy. She moved to the dining table to work on the reports that she had brought with her. She stopped every few minutes to check the readings until he had settled into a deep trance. At that point, she felt a measure of relief. As she begun to relax, she started to reminisce of their time on the Enterprise. Since her departure from the ship, she had distanced herself from her infatuation with Spock. Unfortunately with her current contact with him, she felt its unwelcome return. She hoped the formal posture she adopted had kept her from being as obvious as she was in the past.

Stopping that train of thought, she once again checked the monitoring equipment. The recording device showed a small spike in the readings. It was a minor fluctuation, but she knew it could be indicative of a worsening condition. Unsure of what she would do in that case, she sat glued to the readouts until they had returned to the normal trance state for his condition and had remained that way for several minutes. She then resumed her work, stopping occasionally to check on Spock's condition. Over time her anxiety eased but didn't disappear. It took longer for her to complete her work than she had initially planned. However, she was set to return to work when this was over, if she survived the stress of these next few days.

To combat her concern, she fixed herself a light meal and decided to do some recreational reading. The author of her book was popular at the moment, and the story had been suggested by one of the nurses at the hospital. After just a few chapters, Christine set it aside. She kept losing the plot of the story every time she had checked Spock's readings.

Unable to settle into anything, she chose to make an early night of it. She checked the readings one more time before entering the lone bedroom. She would be sleeping in Spock's bed. That was enough to make a tingle pass through her. When she stepped into the bathroom she was surprised to find a large sunken tub. She concluded that a soak would relax her enough to aid sleep. She slipped into the steaming scented water, leaned her head against the padding, and closed her eyes allowing the tension to seep out of her.

When she had started to relax, her mind grasped that this was Spock's bath. She visualized Spock sharing this bath. He would be against the padding and she would rest her head on his shoulder, his hands exploring her skin under the water. With sure, hard fingers he would cup her breast, his thumb rubbing against her nipple. He would bend his head to kiss and nip the side of her neck. His other hand would stroke down her side to find the curve of her hip, before moving over to stroke her inner thigh. She would turn her head to catch his mouth. His hand would move to the juncture of her thighs and slip a finger into her inner recesses. He would stroke her in a sure rhythm that would bring her closer to the edge. He would--

She was ripped from her fantasy by the alarm signaling a dangerous spike in Spock's readings. She jumped out of the tub and grabbed a robe. She belted the sash as she grabbed a scanner and went to check the readings on the monitors to see what was wrong.

* * *

It had taken an hour for the hypo she gave him to reduce the imbalance enough to return his readings to normal. By then, she had given up any thoughts of an early night. She sat watching the monitors awaiting the next crisis until early in the morning. She finally fell into an exhausted sleep in the chair. She awoke every few hours to check his readings.

The next day she contented herself to review Medical Journals that she had missed in between checking the monitors. The readings indicated that Spock was maintaining the steady depth of the trance, with just the occasional expected fluctuation. Even though there were none of the dangerous spikes that had occurred yesterday, her anxiety had increased as the day passed. She had reached a point of anxiety, and she was now pacing in between each check of the monitors. If this kept up she would need a sedative to sleep. Of course using a sedative would be impossible. She had to be able to wake up and check the readings.

She spent that night in the same chair, dozing for just a few minutes before she jumped up to check the readings. The readings were still as stable as the had been during day, but she feared closing her eyes for very long at a time. She just knew that something would happen. She was afraid that she would lose Spock. So, she continued her vigil to the point that she was beginning to question her own reasoning.

The next day began the same as the previous one had. She checked his readings and slipped in the occasional Journal until she was up-to-date. She then passed some time as she checked her messages and viewed the current events, all the while keeping one eye on the monitors. No one knew that she was here. If something happened to Spock, she would not be able to get help any time soon. She did have the option of placing him in stasis until she could confer with a Vulcan Healer, but she was an outsider and did not know how much information they would be willing to give her. She did not think that Spock would agree with that option either. Why had he put her in this position? Here she was fretting again, and there had not even been a small spike in the readings the previous day.

She needed some sleep. Maybe with a clear head she would be better able to cope with the situation. Decision in hand she turned up the volume of the alarms to wake her, if anything should occur. She took a quick sonic shower and prepared for a nap. As she lay there, she willed herself not to get up and check the monitors. She was contemplating setting up a readout in the room when she finally drifted off to sleep.

At first her dreams were disjointed with images of the readings, heat, sounds of gongs, and being alone. Then she was viewing an image of Spock, with a gold sash around his waist. He had on a vest that bared his chest and stomach. He walked up to join her. They were facing another person who was seated.

The image then shifted to Spock joining her in the bed. He cupped her chin and lifted her mouth to his for a kiss. She parted her lips to accept the play of his tongue and his kiss grew harder. He lowered her down onto the pillow, following her down with more kisses. His hand drifted up and closed warmly around her breast.

He pulled back just enough to remove her nightgown and his robe. He took a moment to enjoy the sight of the soft, slim body that she was offering to him. Then, he stroked her silky flesh before finally cupping both of her breasts and leaning down to kiss them, sucking both nipples to hardness. He then kissed his way back up to claim her mouth with deep thrusts of his tongue.

She reached out to pull him down to her. She then began exploring his flesh with her hands. She nestled her sensitive breasts in the crisp dark curls of his chest. He took her mouth as he poised himself above her and gently raised her hips until she cradled him. He then sank into her warmth to the hilt, holding his position to slow the pace as well as give her time to adjust. When she started bucking against him, he began to move slowly, fully sheathing himself in her warm recesses. He then increased the pace, bringing them both closer to the edge.

She was wrenched out of her sleep by the jarring tone of the alarm. She was so muddled by sleep and the dream that it took her a moment to discern the cause of the alarm. At that point she jumped out of bed running for the other room and the monitoring equipment.

This time she waited for the hypo she administered to work, but there was only a little improvement. When she administered the second hypo, she realized that if it didn't work, she would have to take another action. She had thought that she would have to set up the stasis chamber, but now thought that there might be another approach. Much to her dismay, after an hour, the second dose had not returned the readings to normal. It was time to do something else.

She had used her time to contemplate the images of her dream. Some of the images were alien to her. She felt it was safe to assume that she had been viewing images of a ceremony on Vulcan. Those images must be from Spock, but why was she seeing them? If she were seeing his images, then her dreams must have affected him. A bond must have formed between them that was only active in her subconscious. This was the reason for the spikes in his readings and her state of agitation. She would have to resolve the pon farr for both of them.

Turning off the monitoring equipment, she went to him. She was unsure of how to form a meld with Spock in this state, but she knew she had to try. She knew the feel of his mind since they had shared consciousness once before. She would know when a bond was formed, if she could just get Spock to start one, but the question was how?

She sat in a meditative pose mirroring his position. She concentrated on clearing her mind of anything but forming the meld. She then placed his hand in the correct position on her face. She didn't feel anything, so she tried to call him verbally and mentally, but still felt nothing. She had to do something to reach him.

She considered how she revived him from his healing trance and she gave him three strong slaps on the face. She returned his hand to the correct position on her face. Instead of clearing her mind, she concentrated on her dream from the night before.

*He cupped her chin and lifted her mouth to his for a kiss. She parted her lips to accept the play of his tongue and his kiss grew harder. He lowered her down onto the pillow, following her down with more kisses. His hand drifted up and closed warmly around her breast. Then, he stroked her silky flesh before finally cupping both of her breasts and leaning down to kiss them, sucking both nipples to hardness. He then kissed his way back up to claim her mouth with deep thrusts of his tongue. She reached out to pull him down to her.*

She felt the first stirrings of his thoughts joined with her own. She no longer had to hold his hand to her face, so she moved her hands down to his chest and loosened the edges of his robe. She was pleased to find that he wasn't wearing anything underneath. She began to explore the shape and feel of his chest. She curled her fingers in the dark hair that covered it before finding a male nipple. He used his weight to shift their positions until he leaned over her prone body. She tried to move her mouth to his for a kiss, but he stilled the movement with the hand upon her face. His other hand moved down the length of her side, before he grabbed the hem of her gown and pushed it up her hip. He grabbed her thigh in a forceful grip to stay her movement as he pushed into her with a hard downward motion of his hips.

She had not been fully prepared for his forceful entry so she cried out in surprise and tried to still his movement, but he held her with his hand and the pressure of his body over hers. With clenched teeth and fierce eyes, he moved on her in a rough, fierce rhythm. He grunted and arched over her body before his whole body convulsed. From her mind, she saw his own helpless abandon and his throes of ecstasy as he spilled himself into her body and collapsed. As he lay there, he continued to shiver from the force of his fulfillment.

Christine closed her eyes to block out the sight of him. She had felt her fantasies die with his forceful possession of her body. She felt sore and used and she didn't know if she could complete the bonding required to save Spock. Hot tears slid down her checks in silence, as Spock lay so still against her. He had stopped trembling and started breathing normally again.

* * *

As his breathing returned to normal, Spock became more aware of his surroundings. He was no longer actively in the trance. He was having difficulty clearing his thoughts. What he thought of as a vivid illusion was actually his possession of her body. As he tried to discern reality from the images of his meditative state, he realized he was still buried deeply within her body, and his desire had not diminished. The sensations of her surrounding him were enough to stoke up the fires of the blood fever again. He eased her gown up and off her head to allow skin to skin contact. He started to caress her body as he started the rhythmic thrusts that would bring him to completion.

He was aware of the mental bond between them but was too overwhelmed by the intensity of the blood fever and his own need to be able to sort and experience the images he received. Just before he found completion in her body, he joined their thoughts to enhance the effect. Just as he spilled himself into her body, he discovered that her ardor did not match his own. Now, for the first time felt her distress.

He reached for her face to deepen the meld and felt the tears spilling down her face. For the moment his concern for her weakened the hold of the blood fever. Now, he felt the need to decrease her trauma. He only melded with her surface thoughts, not wanting to invade her mind as he had already invaded her body. He used the meld to project soothing thoughts and reassurances.

As her level of distress decreased, Spock retrieved her medical equipment. He proceeded to heal her body. He removed all of the marks that his unfettered passions had left on it. Unfortunately her psyche was not healed as easily as her body. He would accept whatever consequences that would be required. He felt he had abused her and was now ready to make reparations.

He gave her a sedative, cuddled her close to his body, and melded with her surface thoughts once more. He would buffer her dreams and allow her to sleep to aid in her recovery. He actively projected soothing thoughts until her sleep deepened and he felt her distress fade.

When she awoke late in the day, he was still cuddling her. He had made it his responsibility to keep her distress at bay. He was gratified that she did not flinch from the physical or mental contact, but was concerned that she did not relax into the embrace either.

She lay still for a few more minutes before she spoke. "Spock, you hurt me."

Quietly he accepted his liability in the circumstances. "Yes, I did. I do not expect exoneration, I can only state that I was not fully aware of my actions. I deeply regret the pain I inflicted in my lack of control. I had not considered the possibility of a forced bonding. I did not consider the possibility that I would initiate an attack. If you are unable, I will make the preparations necessary for our travel to Vulcan. On Vulcan, they will be able to remove the bond. A forced bonding is expressly forbidden and treated as a capital crime. They will be able to aid your healing. To ensure your safety and prevent any further attacks, the use of stasis or restraints will be required. I request that you keep the information from becoming public, I do not wish to bring further disgrace to my family."

Christine alerted at his tone. She knew that it was as close to despair as he would show. He believed that he had raped her in body and mind, but she knew the truth. All of this was her responsibility. She had lost all reason. What had possessed her to interfere in his meditations? She should have waited longer; he might have been able to control the spike himself. His life had not been in immediate jeopardy. She should have placed him in stasis. He would have survived the trip to Vulcan, where a Healer would have been better able to handle the circumstances. Instead she had panicked and had lost her professional detachment, placing both of their lives in danger.

She sat up and grabbed his meditation robe to use as cover. She then faced Spock. "You did not attack me. Your readings were spiking and I deemed it necessary to bring you out of your meditation to save your life. Once I brought you out of your meditation, I precipitated your seduction before you were fully aware of the situation. I was not prepared for the intensity of the coupling. I was mistaken in my judgment, but it was fully my error. You are not responsible for anything that happened. I am fully accountable for the damage done. I agree that a trip to Vulcan would be wise, but only to aid in your recovery. If there are consequences from this, then they are mine to face." She left the room then, knowing that Spock would quickly take care of their travel arrangements.

* * *

Later, he found her sitting in the dark. He could not tell if she had been crying, but was aware of her distress. His proximity seemed to increase the distress. After he had informed her of the travel arrangements, he left. He wanted to give her time to compose herself before they departed the next afternoon. To insure privacy in this matter, he had booked them on a commercial passenger ship. The trip would be longer, but there would not be a need to explain the urgency of the matter.

By their departure time, she appeared to have regained her composure. She had even prepared a medkit, to ensure that the effects of the 'blood fever' were postponed until he reached Vulcan. It was obvious to Spock, with his increased awareness of her, that this outward display was costly. He was unsure of what action to take to ease her distress. He could only insist that she also seek out the assistance of a healer when they arrived on Vulcan.

After they had boarded the ship, they had separated. Spock retired to his room; he sought meditation to help cool the fires from continued contact with Christine. The fires of the pon farr had not been fully purged from him and he desired an increased bond with her. He was uncertain if she had revealed the complete story when she disclosed her version of their inadvertent bonding. For this reason he had chosen suites that were not adjoining, he would protect her from a further attack until he was certain that he had regained his customary control. He had taken the medkit with him, and had agreed to only a minimum monitoring system.

Christine knew that Spock would place himself in seclusion for the trip. He would not want his condition revealed and would not place anyone's life in danger. She on the other hand had no desire for her own company. She did not want to think of her error in judgment. She didn't know if she had allowed her past feelings for him to interfere in her decision to break his meditation. Had she risked his life to fulfill a past fantasy? Her distress had increased and she was becoming unsure of her actions when he was near. She had decided to avoid him, while maintaining as much distance from him as possible, and their rooms were too close together.

* * *

Midway through their voyage to Vulcan, Spock's daily meditations were interrupted by someone at the door. Spock answered without allowing entrance. "I requested privacy, is this a matter of some urgency?"

The reply came back, "Commander Spock, I am Dr. Trent with Luxury Shiplines. I am sorry for disturbing you, but I felt this matter required urgent attention. May I come in and speak with you?"

Spock opened the door to allow the doctor's entrance and stated brusquely. "You may proceed."

The doctor did not appear to notice Spock's manner when he calmly answered. "Commander, it is Doctor Chapel that I wish to discuss."

"Doctor, it is common knowledge that doctor/patient confidentiality would prevent you from discussing Dr. Chapel without her permission and I don't believe that she would give you that permission," stated Spock.

Dr. Trent answered, "Technically, she is not my patient. Several members of the crew have informed me that she is having some difficulties and is not acting rationally. I sought out Dr. Chapel at her quarters. She refused to answer me and I did not have enough cause to enter her room without permission. I thought that you might be able to talk her into seeking medical attention, if it was required."

"Can you tell me what behavior has been reported to you?" asked Spock.

"Well, first it is obvious that Dr. Chapel is spending very little time in her quarters. I do not believe that she has had more than a couple of hours sleep each night. She instead spends her time in one of the bars. Then last evening she got into a rather loud verbal altercation with one of the other passengers. When a member of the crew tried to intervene, she directed her anger at him. She then fled to her quarters and has not responded to any attempt at communication. From Dr. Chapel's behavior at the beginning of the cruise, I would have to assume that this behavior is atypical and have sought your assistance," stated the Doctor.

Spock responded, "You are correct in your assumption that this is atypical behavior for Dr. Chapel. She has been the victim of some difficulties and I would conclude that they are the reason for her behavioral change. She has requested privacy on this matter, so I can not be more forthcoming. I will speak to her myself and try to assess the problem. If she needs further medical attention, then I will deliver her myself to you in sickbay. Is that acceptable?"

"I do not wish to embarrass Dr. Chapel. I just wish to ascertain her health. I will be willing to provide my assistance if it is required. I will, for now, bow to your acquaintance with her to give you the ability to determine the treatment that she requires. I will step in if I come to believe that the situation requires such intervention," answered the doctor.

* * *

Spock arrived at Christine's quarters after only stopping to grab the medkit that she had left in his possession. He surmised that her behavior was in response to the trauma that she suffered at his hands. He would do everything necessary to see her past the difficulties. First, he decided that she would need a good night's sleep and he had the sedatives necessary to ensure that she received that rest. They could then decide what other steps were necessary to ensure Christine's health. It was the least that he owed her.

Spock rang the chime to her suite and was not surprised at the lack of a response. Considering the state that the Doctor had described, he expected her to avoid visitors. He tried paging her through the intercom system. He was mildly surprised to not receive a response. He tried to page her an additional time before he tried the door. She had coded him into her entry system and the door was not locked, so he was allowed entrance.

Walking into the suite, he was definitely surprised at its state. He carefully sidestepped the destruction throughout the room, and proceeded into the bedroom. He found her curled up in the fetal position on the bed. It was obvious that she had been crying. Even in sleep her body was trembling by the lingering sobs. He took a moment to complete a scan. He discovered that she was suffering an extreme hormonal imbalance. She would need treatment soon, but decided that it would be illogical to awaken her to administer the sedative. For the time being, he would just monitor her sleep and her condition to determine what steps needed to be taken to ensure her recovery.

After setting up the tricorder with an audible alarm to indicate any drastic changes in her condition, he decided to take a few moments to meditate. Their proximity was affecting his hard-won control over his own condition. He refused to lose control and endanger her again. He sat down and tried to focus his mind, but he found it very difficult. He had chosen a position that faced the bed, to assist in monitoring her condition. He had not expected the view that rewarded him now.

She was dressed in a pink robe and from his line of sight, nothing else. He could tell because the robe had parted, exposing the curve of one breast and the first hint of the rosy skin around her nipple. His thoughts drifted back to the silky feel of her skin. He longed to touch her, to stroke her skin. His body was starting to react to what he was seeing.

She moaned and shifted her position slightly. It left her robe gaping even further. Her pale skin almost glowed. As her chest rose and fell with each breath, the edge of the robe slipped open a little more, exposing a taut nipple and the underside of her breast.

Heat coiled low in his belly. The ache from his groin had nullified his attempt at meditation. Now he just had to fight for control. The 'blood fever' was building. He feared his reaction if the 'fever' once again consumed him.

He glanced at the deep V exposed by the gaping neckline of her robe. He decided that it was necessary to use the sedative that she had prescribed. He had to control himself before he could be of assistance. With the aid of the sedative and his relocation to the outer room, he was sure that he would be able to achieve the necessary level of meditation.

* * *

**Christine suddenly became of aware of Spock's presence in her room. She could feel his eyes on her body. She thought that she could feel the tension coming off his body. She shifted her position on the bed to offer him space to join her. It was then that she felt the cool air on her exposed breast. Her moan appeared to trigger a response, as he approached the bed.**

**As he moved to join her on the bed, his hand came up to brush her cheek before he smoothed it down over her neck and then the opened front of her robe. He pushed the edge of her robe further out of the way so that he had greater access to her breast. As he took in the sight of her, his hand moved to cup her. As her nipples peaked, he brought his face down to nuzzle the space between her breast. He moved his hand down to the belt of the robe releasing the tie on the belt. He brushed the sides of the robe open, allowing greater access to her bare skin.**

**His hands caressed her naked flesh, stroking, tormenting, grasping and hot, learning her secrets, and claiming them as his own.**

**She pulled his shirt open, so she could feel his chest against her breasts. And she touched him, through his pants. He moaned encouragement into her ear.**

**So she fumbled with the fastenings, until she had him free. She stroked him. He moaned again, his hand seeking and finding the female center of her, testing her readiness for him.**

**He muttered low and urgently, "I can't wait ... "**

**She didn't argue. Why should she? She wanted him, fully, right then.**

**And then he came down on her. She welcomed him with wanton impatience, wrapping her legs around him, clutching him tight, unable to hold back a deep, glorious as he filled her.**

**His mouth found hers. His tongue delved in, imitating the motions their hips made below.**

**The cloth of his pants abraded, coarse and rough. She hardly felt it; there was so much to feel, after all. She spun in a whirlwind of erotic sensation. The smell of him: his soap and clean sweat and a hint of his exotic heritage. Her own lotions and bath salts, the rubbing of silk, the scrape of his chest hair, the strength of his arms so hard around her, his breath across her cheek, his hands in her hair ...**

**He lifted up on his elbows and looked down at her. She met his eyes. It seemed to her that they were a circle, joined in a look, in the intimate clasp of her hips cradling his.**

**He groaned, "Yes." She gave the word back to him as her climax rolled through her, pulsing as it moved, from the center and out. He closed his eyes, tossed his head back and pressed into her so hard and deep she thought he just might have touched her heart.**

**He groaned again. She cried out once more, this time in sweet, complete release.**

She was abruptly pulled out of sleep, when her dream cry was joined with the piercing alarm of the monitor.

Christine was pulled violently awake by the sound of the alarm. She was so disoriented that it took her a moment to organize her thoughts and discern her location.

She called for the computer to silence the alarm and then grabbed her medkit and began to search for Spock. In her confusion she was convinced that Spock was in trouble. She found him in the outer room, meditating.

Upon her approach, he became alert. As she gazed at him, she was aware that his body showed obvious signs of arousal.

She grabbed the scanner from her medkit and ran it over his body. The readings indicated that the 'blood fever' was once again beginning to take control of his body.

When she was finished, he took the scanner from her and performed the same procedure on her. He was dismayed to find a large chemical imbalance. She definitely showed signs that their encounter had affected her deeply, but not as he had first believed. He had believed that she had been suffering from trauma. Instead it appeared that the 'blood fever' had transferred to her.

He had to tell her the cause of her difficulties. Their options were decreasing. His control was being affected by her presence. In her rush to find him, she had not straightened her robe and it was now gapped open revealing a clear view of her breasts. His body craved the softness of hers. His mind recalling the sensations of filling her body with his own. As his body tightened with further arousal, he detected the signs of her arousal. He had to concentrate to keep from mentally listing each sign. He battled to pull his thoughts back to their situation. The effort to maintain his control taxed his already exhausted body.

Christine finally grasped the significance of the medical scan that Spock performed. All of her symptoms in the last few days were indicators that Spock's 'blood fever' was affecting her. She turned to Spock and asked, "How did I 'catch' the pon farr?

He had to make her understand. They time was almost up. They had to complete their fledgling bond to counteract the effects of the 'blood fever'. Without a complete bond they would never make it to Vulcan in time. They combined symptoms had decreased the margin of safety that he had calculated. He reached out to grasp the front of Christine's robe and pulled her closer. The wanton expression on her face was almost his undoing. With the last bit of control that he had, he adjusted the front of the robe and retied the sash. Her breast concealed he hoped to have the time to explain, before it was too late. He would not continue without her consent, even if it meant madness or death for himself.

When he attempted to talk, his voice was not more than a harsh groan. "Christine, we must talk."

As the tears tracked down her cheeks, she cried. "Spock, what have I done?"

He gently grasped her shoulder and led her to the chair and then sat at the far end of the couch. He had to put some distance between them until he had explained and she had agreed.

The tension evident in his face, he explained. "Christine, our previous joining was incomplete. To adequately resolve the pon farr, our minds and bodies must be joined. Our previous joining has resulted in the transfer of this insanity to you. I do not know or can accurately calculate the course of the outcome for a human so inflected. I only know that madness and death are the outcomes for a Vulcan. Only our being joined in mind and body will resolve this for both of us."

Christine finally spoke. "Since you cannot predict the outcome for a human, how do you know that our joining will resolve the 'blood fever' for me?"

Spock answered. "I know because my Mother has survived each joining with my Father. A Vulcan and Human can join in this manner. But, I will not proceed without your permission."

Christine anguished response was barely audible, "Spock, end this torture."

Breathing a sigh of relief, he stepped in front of her chair, and held his hand out with his first two fingers extended. She reached up and touched their fingers in the gesture she had witnessed between Ambassador Sarek and his wife.

Spock silently led the way to the other room, before he finally spoke. "I must have your thoughts, we must join now." He placed his fingers on the appropriate meld points. Christine felt the flush of his desire as their thoughts joined, increasing her own arousal. She was so enthralled by the experience; she didn't notice her robe being removed.

The moment came when she was naked. Spock guided her backward on the bed. His eyes were burning her again. Spock backed away and took a moment to turn off the monitoring equipment. He returned to the bed once more. When he stood over her, she reached to open his tunic. But then he knelt on the bed beside her and put his hand on her, stilling all movement.

Christine gasped, shocked. And then she knew how extremely she was aroused. She was so wet and ready for him. "Yes," Spock said softly. He began to move his hand. Christine cried aloud. Her body responded, found the rhythm he was showing her. Nothing else mattered but the wonder of his stroking hand. Sure she would faint, she closed her eyes, and it was so delicious. And all he had done so far was to touch her.

Spock said, "You're prepared." Christine moaned and lifted her hips again. And then his hand went still. She opened her eyes a little and saw that he was removing his tunic. Though it meant she lost the delicious intimate caress of his hand, she rose up enough to help him. It didn't matter; she knew what they both wanted.

It was crucial. He had to be pressed to her, naked as she was. He had to be inside her. NOW. Swiftly, they removed his clothes together, getting rid of them. And then he rose over her. Oh, he was so beautiful to see. He had powerful, sculpted shoulders, strong arms, and a hard deep chest. His manhood jutted out from a silky nest of dark hair. Slowly, Spock lowered himself to her. She felt the satiny length of him. And it was everything. It was what she had always dreamed. He was the man of her impossible fantasies, suddenly made into flesh. Then he was all the way in. It was the most marvelous, fulfilling ache Christine had ever known.

She tried to move. But he didn't let her. He levered up on one hand and held her fast with his body, his other hand once again returning to her meld points. She felt another flush pass over her as their thoughts joined. Spock lowered a mental barrier allowing her to feel what he felt at their joining. The double stimulation was so intense a quiver shot through her. She would die if he didn't let her move. Spock looked down at her, and pushed into her one sweet, tantalizing thrust. He retreated. He growled, almost overcome with the sweet torture of her tight, slick passage. The lines of his face softened. He moved deeply into her once more, allowing her to feel the double stimulation of the movement. She arched up to allow him better access.

And at last, he set a rhythm, pushing in and out in long delicious strokes. It was such heaven. Oh, she had known that it would be this way. Her body never felt more alive. The joy was increasing.

Christine desired the feel of him along the length of her. She moved to pull him close.

"No," he said. "I want you to see. I want to see you. I want to see your face." He kept to his rhythm, the length of him thrusting in and slowly, oh so slowly, retreating. She felt frantic, so hungry, and so needful. She was reaching, reaching ...

He opened his thoughts to her again. She was once again swept up in the double stimulation. Then he was whispering things, little hot, sexy things. She moved faster. He increased the rhythm, picking up each of her body's signals before she could physically make them. She reached for him. She stroked his shoulders and the hot, powerful flesh of his chest. Her fingers moved over him, swift as the wings of a butterfly, learning his texture, committing him to memory.

She had always known him. She had never known him ...

And then it happened. An expanding and a rippling outward tide of sensation. Christine cried out.

Spock whispered, "Yes." The feeling went on, to encompass her, to free her for the longest moment from her doubts and her unhappiness and from all that remained unsaid and undecided.

Somewhere in the middle of it, Spock was caught up, too. She felt him push strongly into her, a movement of his own need, his own hunger that had claimed him at last. He groaned a sound of both pleasure and pain. He thrust once more. Then both remained motionless, for a moment, for an eternity.

She dared to look at him, and he met her eyes, as the pulsing continued. They whispered, "Yes" in unison. It felt like a moment, an eternity, and then there was a gentle fading. Ecstasy became a glow. Spock sighed. He lowered himself carefully upon her. She clutched at him, needful of the warmth and hardness of him, against her slowing heart. Carefully he rolled to the side, still joined, so that they lay facing each other, arms and legs entwined. He ran a caressing hand down her body and then back up to her meld points. He once again lowered his barriers and allowed her to feel the wonderful buzz of his satisfaction. She pulled him closer, tightening her grasp on him. She felt the peace that she had so long ago desired. Spock said in a triumphant whisper, "Now you are mine. We are one."

Again, he ran a hand down the length of her. The gentle mind touch continued. The tension of the last few days began to recede. They felt safe enough to give in to exhaustion. They both slept.

* * *

The majority of the voyage to Vulcan passed in a haze of sexual satisfaction. She really wondered at Spock's endurance level. She had lost count of the number of times that he had taken her. Their bodies had almost continually been joined physically and mentally in an ecstasy that she could not have even imagined. Spock had never again lost control as he had that first time. In fact, he was extremely talented in pleasing her. She knew that in this matter, the bond came in handy. She wished for the same gift, to be able to feel what Spock felt. She thought what they had would be enough.

Most of their time was spent making love. It felt like heaven to her. Everything seemed to be perfect. When they were joined, Spock would open his thoughts to her. He would share his pleasure with her. The double stimulation was almost too much for her to bear. He would also share a side of himself that she had only dreamed to see. She felt that he cared for her, and she dreamed that it would be enough.

When they were not connected physically and mentally, she could still feel the "tingle" of his presence in her thoughts. She could not actively seek out his thoughts, but she felt that his presence would be enough.

On the rare occasions that he hid behind his Vulcan facade, she tried to concentrate on their lovemaking. He was a considerate lover and was generous in sharing his thoughts with her. He even allowed her to touch his deeply hidden emotions, sharing in an intimacy that very few others had been allowed. She thought that it would be enough.

She would soon find that she was wrong.

* * *

Everything changed, upon their arrival on Vulcan. He had once again withdrawn into his former self. She felt foolish for convincing herself that things had changed. He was attentive in his role as host, but all physical contact had ceased. Although they still slept in one bed, he had not approached her. Her one awkward attempt at seduction had been met with a cold disinterest.

She began to wonder why they even shared the same bed. He often did not join her until she was asleep and he rose before she awoke. She missed the intimacy that they had shared on the ship. It did not help that her dreams of late had taken a drastic turn to the erotic. Her craving for him was almost a physical ache.

She once again kicked herself for interfering with his pon farr. She had worked so hard over the past few years to forget her deep attraction and affection for him. She had told him that she was over him. She had lied to herself and him; it was just easier to act uninterested when there had been no contact between them. Before she made a fool of herself again, she had to save herself. She would not put herself through that torture again. She would speak to him upon his return. She deserved to be treated with respect and love, and she now knew that Spock would never be able to provide her with what she craved.

* * *

Christine had done her best to discuss these issues with Spock. His only response was to inform her that he was going on an Embassy mission with the Ambassador. She was thrilled to be leaving Vulcan. Maybe after this mission, they would be able to return to Starfleet. She was wrong. She had not been invited to join Spock. He expected her to stay on the planet awaiting his return. He was wrong.

Christine looked around the room that they had shared during their stay on Vulcan. With her clothes packed, it was if she had never been there. She felt as if she had the same impact on Spock's life. Would he even notice that she was gone? Would he even care?

Tears ran down Christine's cheeks unchecked as she mulled over their time together. What had caused things to go so wrong? Was this seemingly loveless marriage her punishment for her interference in his life?

After their bonding on the ship, Christine had thought her often denied dream had finally been realized. Spock had not only noticed her, but had chosen to bond. They should've had all the time in the world to love each other.

That had changed once they had reached Vulcan. For one thing, as they disembarked they had been met by one of Ambassador Sarek's aides, Stolen. She had almost laughed out loud when he had introduced himself. The aide had apparently not missed her slip of composure. He did not conceal the flash of distaste at Spock's choice of mate. It was obvious that Spock had not missed anything as well. Christine did not have a chance to know how Spock felt. He had closed himself off from their bond. She had grown accustomed to the familiar buzz of his mindtouch. Now she just felt bereft. Maybe, it was when T'Pau had refused to attend the reception that Lady Amanda had prepared for them. Christine took it as the Clan's refusal to acknowledge her. They did not have the power to counteract the bond, but they did not have to accept it either. She had tried to discuss the matter with Spock, but he had just told her not to worry. How could she do otherwise? Her dream was falling apart at the seams.

Or could it have been when Spock had started assisting his father with his embassy duties? Spock had been given the opportunity for further reconciliation with his family. Christine had believed that their stay on Vulcan would be brief and then they would return to Starfleet. It seemed that Spock was reluctant to leave this closer familial bond.

All she knew was that as their time on Vulcan was prolonged, his coolness toward her had increased. This affected every aspect of their relationship. At some point he had stopped making love to her. Her one attempt at seduction had been rebuffed coolly, and she had made no further attempts.

With one last look around the room, she reached out to stroke a hand across his pillow and robe. She wiped the tears away before grabbing her cases.

She then stepped out of her dream like fantasy and into the real world.

The End