The BLTS Archive - The Union of the Spirits
by Lyrastar (watergal@liquidfic.net)

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Disclaimer:  The characters and all things Trek are the property of
Paramount/Viacom. No money is being made.  The punctuation of the
epigraph has been altered in one small but significant manner to
better fit the meaning of the story. No disrespect is intended by
this.

Archive: ASC*, BLTS, and my site.

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The union of your spirits here has caused him to remain,
for whenever two or more of you are gathered in his name,
There is love. - Paul Stookey

---

Ben Sisko swiveled tightly in his chair feeling uncharacteristically
discomfited by his distinguished guest.  How does one make small talk
with a Vulcan?  With relief, he saw Jadzia exit the lift and make her
way up the steps to his office. "Ah, here she comes now," Ben said
smoothly.  The doors split apart Jadzia entered the command office.

Ben and the Ambassador both rose.  Spock wore a floor length robe of
deep black with silver glyphs elaborately stitched in a vertical line
down the front flap.  Jadzia walked up to the desk and stood beside
the Ambassador.  In her boots, she stood less than an inch shorter
than Spock.

Sisko said, "Ambassador, I would like you to meet Lieutenant Commander
Jadzia Dax.

"Lieutenant, this is Special Federation Ambassador--"

"Spock," Dax interrupted cheerfully.  "Yes, of course, I recognized
him immediately."

Sisko cringed.

Jadzia raised her right hand in the Vulcan fashion.  "Live long and
prosper, Ambassador."  Every line of her body lay relaxed in
professional competence; nonetheless her eyes sparkled with a
distinctly devilish delight. He was every bit as striking as she had
remembered him from the Enterprise, possibly more so as the dignity of
the years had suffused itself through his aspect.

Spock returned the greeting impassively.  "We come to serve."  He
dropped his hand.  "You are the being that once was Curzon Dax?"

Ben resumed his seat.  Jadzia slid into a chair and motioned for Spock
to do likewise.  She made a face.  "That isn't entirely accurate,
Ambassador.  Each new host changes the intrinsic persona of the joined
Trill.  I am not Curzon, but I do have access to all of Curzon's
knowledge and memories."

"That will be sufficient for my purposes," said Spock.

"As you are doubtless aware, the Dominion threat to the Federation is
becoming an ever-escalating concern.  As I have had some small
experience in diplomacy, I have been engaged to negotiate our
re-alignment the Klingon Empire in our time of need.  As Curzon was
once the Federation ambassador to the Klingon Empire, I believe he may
have inside knowledge of Klingon politics that may be of use to me,"
said Spock.

"What sort of knowledge?" Dax asked.

"Unknown," said Spock

Dax glanced at Sisko.  His face was perfectly neutral.  She addressed
the Ambassador.  "Ambassador Spock, I would be happy to help in any
way, but if you can't even tell me what it is that you want to know--"

"Yes, that is a problem." Spock cut her off abruptly.  "In addition,
time is short.  I have just received word that an influential Klingon
council member has arranged a diversion in his designated flight plan.
He will be arriving here in 1.42 hours.  Since these negotiations will
be crucial, I would like to be optimally prepared by that time.

"It is theoretically possible for me to acquire Curzon's insights by
that time, however," Spock hesitated, "the manner may not be
acceptable to you.  It would require a most invasive form of
communication: a direct mind link between the symbiont intellect that
was once Curzon Dax and myself."

"Certainly," Dax said easily.

Spock looked at her askance. "Lieutenant, I am not certain that you
understand.  A mind-meld of this type is one of the most intimate acts
afforded on Vulcan.  Under less exigent circumstances a Vulcan would
only share this experience with a mate or select immediate family
members.  For example, even my own father and I never elected to share
this intimacy.  It is an intensely personal experience and is not to
be undergone cavalierly."

Jadzia meshed her fingers on the table in front of her.  She regarded
Spock coolly.  "Ambassador, after two passages through initiate
training, there is little that you can tell me of a joined
consciousness of which I am not already aware.  I am not naïve.  In
one way of reckoning, I am more than twice your age.  I do not need to
be coddled or protected.  I am sworn to uphold the goals of the
Federation and the ideals of peace, in the same way that you are.   If
you believe this is the best course of action toward those goals,
then, by all means, proceed."

She stood and moved to stand directly before him.  Their knees
brushed.  His robe tickled at her ankles.  There was no fear in her
eyes.

Without warning he reached a hand for her face.  The contact was not
unpleasant.  It was rather like the clinical touch of a doctor making
an assessment.  She felt the precise order of his thoughts as they
searched along the corridors of her mind.  And then it was gone.

"Curzon is not here," Spock said curtly.

Jadzia blinked.  "He would not be in my brain.  The symbiont and I
have disparate minds.  Prior to joining, each can exist alone; now we
are still two, blended, but interdependent.  The Dax symbiont mind is
the one that lived as ambassador to the Klingon Empire, and it is the
one that holds the memories of that time.  It resides here."  She
patted her midriff.

Spock said, "To form the psionic link, I must access the tissue
adjacent to the intellect."

Jadzia shrugged, then unsealed her jumper.  She peeled it back from
her shoulders, and let it dandle from her waist.  With a glance toward
the transparent office door panels, she moved to the side wall, into
the shadows and out of the line of sight of ops personnel.  She lifted
her uniform shirt to just below her breasts and pushed the waistband
of the jumper down low on her hips.

Spock followed her movements and stopped before her, the folds of his
robe swinging gracefully to a halt.  He surveyed her stomach.  Her
skin was creamy and flawless.  It bore no trace of where the symbiont
had been implanted only a few years before.

"Here?" he asked, laying a hand on her middle.

"A little higher," she said.

He slid his hand up until his wrist abutted her breasts.  She gasped.
Her knees buckled.  He backed her against the wall and into a crudely
textured panel of Cardassian design.

"Yes," Spock murmured.  His hand burned hot against her midriff.  The
cool panel rubbed rough against the small of her back.  Through the
bulkhead the hum of the energized station systems transmitted an
electrical thrill which rippled through her body.  She pressed back
into it and stiffened as it ran through her body.

From the side, a wall spotlight illuminated Spock in profile and
accentuated the heavy lines of his face.  An eerie map of dark valleys
and sharp ridges stood out in front of her.  His features took on a
far-away demeanor.  His eyes rolled back in their sockets.

In her conscious mind Jadzia could feel nothing of the meld, but on
some deep, purely visceral level she felt Spock moving within her. She
squirmed once, trying to shift his forearm away from her nipple, but
the friction only made the feeling worse.  She arched her back and
pressed back further into the panel.  Her ass pressed against the
harsh textile.  The electrical hum vibrated along the length of her
crack, rubbing cheek against cheek, crude fabric against flesh.

Spock pressed closer.  His musk surrounded her, wrapped her in tight.
He shifted his hand, scraping her nipple yet again.  Thick fluid began
to run down her thigh. She moaned reflexively and squirmed to the
side.

Spock pinned her with a knee.  The folds of his robe parted slightly.
He moved in against her, holding her still.  His eyes were unfocused,
his breathing harsh and shallow.  She felt the unmistakable bulge of
his arousal pressing against her hip.  Spock clutched at her belly,
pinching her hard between his fingers.  Involuntarily she cried out.

"Dax!"  Ben threw his body between them and grabbed her shoulders.
Spock broke the meld and, wrapping the robe around himself, laced his
fingers and fought for control.

Jadzia's skin was damp and hot against his fingers.  Her spots flushed
dark and the veins in her neck pulsed full and fast.

"You all right, old man?" Ben asked with concern.

"Fine, Ben," Jadzia said.  Her voice still rasped thick. She cleared
her throat.  "But the experience was--different than I had expected."

She turned to Spock.  "I am sorry, Ambassador.   I am, of course,
prepared to continue."  She straightened and pulled out away from the
panel.  She felt a fresh drop of moisture drip down from her crotch,
but forced herself to meet his eyes.

Spock looked up, once again as composed as ever.  His voice was steady
and flat when he spoke.  Nonetheless, he took care to keep the robe
tented out from his waist.

"Lieutenant Commander, you have nothing for which to apologize.  The
unexpected response stems from the depth of my link with Curzon.
Apparently he desired Jadzia--sexually.  You may find this link even
more disturbing than I had originally anticipated."

Jadzia winked at him.  "That facet of Curzon has come up before and
caused far worse problems than this.  Believe me; I'll live.  But I do
think we ought to continue in privacy."

"Dax--" Ben cautioned.

"Don't worry, Ben.  I've been old enough to take care of myself for
well over 300 years now."  She pulled the jumper back up, leaving the
outer tunic undone to the waist.

She extended a hand to Spock.  "Ambassador, if you will follow me."

Ignoring her outstretched palm, Spock locked his wrists behind his
back, and stopped one step in front of her.  She snorted softly and
led the way through ops and to the lift.

---

They arrived at her quarters.  Spock blinked, rapidly adapting to the
even dimmer level of personal cabin lighting.

Dax locked the door behind her.  She pulled the uniform top back down
then, noting the unpleasant stickiness chafing between her thighs,
stepped out of the jumper completely and tossed it onto the bed.  The
soft uniform sweater molded to her damp skin and accentuated every
curve.  A white thong panty clung to her crotch.  A few dark hairs
curled from the lacy edge.  The odor of her arousal rose to her nose,
thick and undeniable.   Surely Spock could smell it as well.  But
there was no time for such concerns.  "Well?" she said.

Without further ado, Spock reached for her skin.

The intimacy was shocking.  Nameless, faceless, but utterly male. Like
being penetrated throughout her entire being.  Powerless to fight it,
she gave in.

When the meld was over, she could barely speak.  Her vagina ached, her
heart hammered, her hips rocked subtly on their own accord.  Every
fiber of her being screamed for carnal completion.  She leaned against
the desk, her long legs quivering beneath her.

Spock pulled back and collected himself.  Still, when he spoke, his
voice was thick and strained.  "Thank you, Lieutenant Commander.  I
have achieved our objective."  He turned to go.

"Ambassador Spock," she choked.  "Is Curzon still with you?"

"No.  I have dissolved the meld.  I have his knowledge of Klingon
politics, but what is left of is katra is again solely within you."

"Then," she hesitated, "I don't know if Vulcans do things like this,
but I have to say, I really want to have sex with you right now."

Spock stared at her intently.  He took one step back toward her and
reached out a finger to her face.  She turned her head and eagerly
took it deep within her mouth.  She sucked once, twice, then opened
her eyes in dismay at her actions.  She released his finger and he let
his hand fall to his side.

"Miss Dax, you must be aware that my actions are motivated entirely by
logic."

Her face dropped.

Spock continued, "And I can see nothing illogical about your request.
Assuming, that is, that we are finished no later than 1.16 hours from
now."

Jadzia smiled from ear to ear.  "I am sure that can be arranged."

She reached toward him and unfastened the robe at he shoulder and
pushed it back.  It fell to the floor revealing an impressive erection
underneath thin black pantaloons.  Spock was already undoing the
waistband.  The pantaloons too fell away.  He stepped out of them and
shoved her back against the wall.

With one hand, Spock pulled at her thong until it popped.  With the
other he took up his penis and, with no more preamble, he shoved it
deep into her pelvis.

Jadzia grunted as he hammered her against the wall.  She was coming
almost before she knew it, in wave after glorious wave.  As the spasms
subsided, she wrapped a leg around his back and pressed her body full
against him, allowing him to bear her weight with his strength.

He cupped her ass and held her easily in his arms.  She lifted her
other leg from the ground and permitted herself the all to brief
luxury of riding his penis entirely under his control.   His fingers
bit into her cheeks as he pistoned her against himself, and then she
was coming again.  She collapsed on his shoulder in helpless abandon.

"Put me down," she said when she could speak again.  He penis stuck
out hard and full between them.   He obliged.  Her boots hit the floor
with a sharp click.

She stood on the floor and spread her feet slightly apart.  She
appraised his persistent erection with evident satisfaction.  "I don't
often get the chance to do this with a man my height," she said.  "Or
a woman either," she added with a grin.  She took Spock's penis in
hand, stoked it a couple times, and then inserted it expertly into her
vagina.

She grabbed his ass and pulled him firmly against her.  Carefully she
shuffled her feet until they were leg to leg, pelvises mated.  She
arched backwards a little and looked down her front at their bodies
where they met at the groin.

"I love to watch," she breathed as his penis slid in and out of her
swollen mons.  The primal rhythm coupled with the beautiful sight of
his member working within her was soon too much and she came again,
slapping her hips hard against his.

"Whoa!"  Jadzia collapsed on the desk in gales of laughter.  "That was
amazing!  Joined Trills usually try to rise above the baser passions,
but, for the life of me, I can't see why.  That was absolutely
amazing!"  She dangled her legs over the edge, as she lay on her back,
content to rest on the cool, smooth surface of the desk.

His erection still taut against his belly, Spock reached for his robe.
"Wait," said Jadzia, clearly confused.  "Aren't you going to climax?"

Spock began to fasten the clips of his robe.  "Miss Dax, Vulcans too
try to rise above the baser passions, as you put it.  I am content to
have reciprocated a favor to you, however, I prefer to restrict true
sexual intimacy to within the confines of significant relationships."

She sat up on the edge of the desk.  "Sure, I understand."

He bent to retrieve his pantaloons.

"I met him once," she blurted out.

"Pardon?" Spock said.

"Jim Kirk.  I saw him once--with you--on the Enterprise.  You were
both so beautiful.  I could see that it was meant to be."

Spock furrowed his brow and look at her intently.  "I have no memory
of Curzon being on the Enterprise."

"No, not Curzon, it was me--just a few months ago.  We traveled back
in time to meet you at K-7.  It's been classified by Temporal
Investigations, of course, but I saw you and Jim together and you were
utterly magnificent."

Spock dropped the pants. They lay forgotten on the floor.  "Show me,"
he commanded.

Jadzia inclined her head marginally in silent assent.  He placed one
hand upon her face.  And then he saw what she had seen.  Jim and
himself, young, inseparable, invincible.  Too perfect to have any hope
of ever again matching that ultimate symbiosis, no matter how many
years a Vulcan might live.

Trembling he dropped his hand.

She caught him by the edge of his robe and pulled him a step closer to
the desk.

"It's all right," she murmured.  "Really, it is.  I may be one of the
few species who can understand what it is like to outlive all of those
you love.  It takes a very special person to live a life like that."

Slowly, she moved her hand from his robe, to his thigh, to his groin,
to his penis.  She stroked it gently, cooing reassurances.  "Spock, I
have seen the loves of six lifetimes fade away and die.  Please
believe me when I tell you that what ever you are thinking--or,
feeling--it is all right."

With more confidence now, she took his penis in hand.  She stroked up
and down, feeling it jerk beneath the cool touch of her hands.  She
cupped her fingers around his genitals and blew hot breath onto his
flesh.  He gasped in surprise.

She grabbed him by the hips, and pulling him in front of her, put her
lips on his penis and licked and sucked him in the manner that Curzon
had always loved the best.

With delight she tasted the first sour drops of his semen as it leaked
over her tongue.  She groaned in delight and sucked him in harder, but
to her surprise, he pulled away.

"Spock?" she queried in genuine concern.

He face was flushed; his breath came in pants.  He held her at bay by
the shoulders, his face a picture of barely restrained primeval lust.

Having been a lonely old man more than once, Jadzia could do no less
than take pity.  She fell back on her back and threw her legs up on
his chest. Reflexively, Spock grabbed her ankles.  She rested her feet
on his shoulders, and then Spock moved.

He grabbed her buttocks and slid her down the desk and onto his penis.
Ignoring her vagina, he spread the thick secretions over her anus and
plunged himself within.  His fingers hurt her cheeks as he pumped her
violently against himself, but she never cried out.  She watched his
face, wild and intent, and rewarded herself as Spock dissolved in that
ultimate abandon.

Spock collapsed against her body.  She stroked his hair as his chest
rose and fell against her thighs.

Her comm badge bleeped.  "Sisko to Dax."  She hopped off the table and
hit the metal of her jumper.

"Dax here."

"Dax, the Klingon spacecade is docking.  I want you in ops."

"On my way, Captain."

She sniffed her armpit.  It would have to do.  She pulled up her
jumper and resealed it to the neck.

Jadzia smoothed her hair and refastened the black clip.  Looking in
the mirror, she caught his eye.  "You know, Spock, it's none of my
business, but among Trills, there is a tradition against encouraging
old relationships once one person has moved on.  Sometimes the pain is
just too great.  Sometimes the past is best left if the past, if you
know what I mean.

She turned to face him, once again the imperturbable ops officer.

"Miss Dax," Spock said, "you are quite correct.  It is none of your
business."

---

The End

---

~Lyra April 2003