The BLTS Archive- Kirk/Sarek: Pas de Deux (Tardando - Coda)
by Acidqueen (a.q@gmx.de)

---

Author's Note: Fourth part of my Kirk/Sarek series, which
consists of "To Share a Dream", "To Mend a Heart" and "To
Heal a Mind". Reading the prequels first is recommended but
not necessary. It is also the sister piece to my Spock/McCoy
"Pas de Deux (Andante - Piu mosso)". And it belongs to the
Sarek Fun Fest!

Disclaimer: Paramount/Viacom owns Star Trek, I own my brain.
No infringement is intended, and no money is being made.

Archive: My own website, ASCEM, all others ask, please.

Acknowledgement: Thanks to Lyrastar for beta'ing! All
remaining errors are mine!

---

It rained, for the first time in more than twenty-one years.
And never had it seemed more fitting, Sarek thought as he
looked outside into the pouring rain that came down as harsh
as the sandy winds usually did. The dry ground could not
absorb the fluids, and so the waters rose quickly from
runnels to creeks to broader streams that slowly wound their
way through the garden. They drowned the smaller plants
already and, if they were to speed up, they would tear them
right out. Even the red roses that Amanda had liked so well
already hung aslant, the open blossoms burdened by too much
weight. As if the gates of heaven had opened just for him
today, they released their water to weep where he could not.

Amanda was gone.

He turned away from the wet inferno outside, the roaring
still in his ears. The room behind him was dark by human
standards, but there was no reason to light it up anymore;
she was not there to sit and talk, or to join him in
peaceful silence. And no matter how the comfy armchair
pretended by its dignified stance that its owner was only
out for a short walk and would return soon, putting a book
on the nearby table before asking for a cup of tea, it would
not happen.

"Amanda is dead."

There, he had said it aloud, and the words spread through
the silence as if he had broken the holy spell of a temple.
Nothing answered him though. No echo resounded in this house
that was too carefully built to let this annoyance creep
into its stony corridors. No priest came around the corner
to chide him for his unnecessary statement; no T'Pau came to
tell him that as illogical as his relationship with Amanda
had been on the first hand, he had now sunk even further by
lamenting her passing in so human a fashion.

What shortsighted way to look at it, he thought. Amanda's
logic had always encompassed more than just the logic that
Vulcans had thought out; it had included compassion and
emotion in a way that he had felt comfortable with. Little
had he adopted it, too deeply rooted into Vulcan living had
he been to incorporate the possibilities into his own life.
Spock had finally achieved it, and there lay a trace of envy
in this realization. There would be more in the future that
Spock would achieve, he was sure; the first steps were done
toward ambassadorship, and fatherly pride alone did not
explain why fellow colleagues had congratulated him on his
son's achievements. Spock could and probably would finally
follow the path he had always hoped he would take. It was an
ironic twist of fate that it had taken so long.

Sarek walked upstairs, his steps only small sounds in the
house that seemed to miss its heartbeat. It lay too still,
too silent; the servants were now all away as he had
ordered, because he was unable to stand their closed
guardedness around him. If he would mourn like no Vulcan
should, he did not need witnesses to it. He would deal with
it in solitude for a week or maybe two, meditate over it and
then return to the outer world. He knew many offworlders
would think him hard and closed. He did not mind. It was
enough Amanda had always known his inner feelings - no other
needed to.

The door chimed, once, twice. The bell relayed eagerness and
liveliness, an energy that did not dissipate in the damped
atmosphere inside, but lightened it up. He frowned and
turned, then turned back, determined to ignore the call, but
the visitor did not capitulate. The door chime sprang alive
once more, the sounds dancing around with an intensity Sarek
had not known they could. In the end, it was much easier to
go downstairs and give the intruder a very Vulcan letdown
than to ignore the annoying chime further.

He walked down to the viewer at the main entrance, but the
camera was dead. Probably the rain, he thought, and tried
the speaker, but not even noise came in. With a sigh, he
unlocked the door and opened it, only to face the most
unexpected person.

---

"I'm sorry if I spoiled your expensive carpet," Kirk said
when they sat in the kitchen shortly after. The human had
changed into a dressing gown, and the wet clothes hung on a
rack in the corner of the kitchen. Kirk sneezed and
thankfully took the handkerchief that Sarek offered him. "I
honestly didn't expect to need rain gear on Vulcan."

"It has not rained in Shi'Kahr for 21.3 years," Sarek said
while he decanted the tealeaves. "I did not expect you to
come to Vulcan."

"I felt like it," Kirk said and looked down at his hands on
the table.

Sarek placed two teacups on a tray. "I heard you retired
from Starfleet a month ago."

Kirk nodded. "Yes, I did. Like McCoy and Spock and Scotty."

"I propose that we continue this discussion in the living
room," Sarek said and took the tray. "The third to the
right," he added, but Kirk had settled in to follow him.

"I almost forgot how large the house is," the human said. "A
bit lonely now, I guess."

Sarek didn't answer; instead he placed the tray on the small
table near Amanda's customary chair. The action was over
before he had consciously considered whether he wanted
anyone, even Kirk - especially Kirk - to take her place in
her armchair.  But Kirk had already lowered himself down
onto the cushions, imprinting his own patterns into them. It
was comforting and disturbing at the same time, and Sarek
forcibly put his sparring emotions back into a corner of his
mind for later consideration.

"Yes, we four retired. I thought it was a bit premature for
Spock - but then, now he's free for his new career as
Ambassador."

Sarek sat down on his hard stool. "Indeed. I already
arranged accelerated admittance for him into the regular
Vulcan diplomatic staff. His knowledge and experiences are
unique, and will be to our planet's benefit in future
dealings."

Kirk held the cup without drinking. His white fingers closed
around its brown and stood out in stark contrast. "And you
don't mind that he's tied up with McCoy? It's not quite what
you wanted for him, is it?

This time, Sarek could not ignore the feeling of frustration
that waved against him and broke over his outer protective
shell. He fortified his shields, adding another layer to the
construction that was unusually fragile after Amanda's
death. "Did he tell you he is bonded?"

Kirk shrugged. "He didn't - he didn't have to. Heck, he's
going to the Shoreleave planet with McCoy! That's telling
enough. We've been balancing a triangle of pure friendship
for the last several years, carefully avoiding any missteps,
and there he goes on vacation with McCoy. There's no way I
could misunderstand that."

Sarek put aside his own cup and folded his hands. "You have
not spoken to him?"

"I've had enough talking," Kirk said and put the cup away.
"I'm sorry, Sarek. I came here because I heard of Amanda's
death. My deepest condolences. She was a wonderful person."

Sarek's fragile construction wavered. "'Thank you' would be
the appropriate reply on Earth," the Vulcan said. "I
nevertheless fail to understand why you are here now. I have
no need for companionship, Kirk."

"You may not have asked for it, Sarek," Kirk said and leaned
forward, "but I don't believe that you don't need it."

"How I handle this situation is none of your business,
Kirk," Sarek stated sternly, and stood up.

The human rose, too. "Isn't it usually the case," Kirk said
while he walked toward the door, blocking it, "that on
Vulcan the family meets to accompany the surviving member of
a couple until the katra is brought to the Ancient Halls?"

"Amanda had no katra to save," Sarek said, and grief took
hold of him for the fraction of a second. But then he
straightened his back, letting the control of decades take
over. "She is dead, and I will deal with it on my own
terms."

Kirk unexpectedly placed his hand on Sarek's shoulder. It
was cool and strong on his skin; it was indecent and
offending in its accompanying emotions. "Let me be family,
Sarek. Let me grieve with thee."

The Vulcan shook free with one sharp movement. "Step back,
Kirk. You know nothing of me or of Vulcan; you do not know
what you risk with your actions right now."

For a moment it seemed that Kirk would not yield, but then
he backed away from the door and let Sarek leave.

---

Sarek did not sleep; he would not need sleep for another
dozen nights. But he also did not meditate, as his mind was
volatile and without focus. One part pulled toward memories
of his wife, another pulled downstairs to his visitor. The
images entangled themselves at the focal point after Spock's
resurrection, when Amanda had made him go to Kirk. It all
had been so wrong; how had he ever been able to hurt her so,
to seek out others while she she waited for him there?

Logic whispered in his ear that it was all over and that his
belated lament was useless, but he did not listen to this
voice of reason. For once he bathed in regret over things he
could not change, tried to feel what she had felt on those
days when she had looked at him with red eyes, not really
able to tell him what her tears were for. The bottomless
darkness he had felt in those rare moments now overshadowed
his own mind. He failed to understand how humans could live
with it.

A loud sound forced Sarek out of his thoughts and down the
stairs. In the kitchen, he found his uninvited guest in a
pool of milk, in his hands a soaked piece of paper. "Let me
help you," he said and took the small cleaning unit that
hung in a darkened corner.

"Give it to me," Kirk said, and grabbed it. The white liquid
was hard to clean from the stone floor as it tried to escape
into the crevices between the blocks, but Kirk chased it
down with persistence.

Sarek remained standing at the door, undecided as to what to
do. When Kirk got up, he reached out for the cleaning unit.
The human handed it to him and watched as he tipped the
contents into the recycling shutter.

"I apologize," Kirk said.

Sarek neatly closed the cleaning unit and hung it up where
it belonged, his back toward the human. "Why did you come?"
he asked in a low voice.

"I don't really know," Kirk said and took one of the kitchen
chairs, the very one he had sat on some hours ago. "When the
message about Amanda came through, I expected Spock to fly
to Vulcan, but he didn't. I wondered about that, but he
wasn't forthcoming with an explanation."

"He sent a message with his condolences," Sarek said.

"Maybe that's enough for him...or for you, I don't know. But
I found it a bit...cheap." Kirk pulled the dressing robe
tighter around his chest.

Sarek walked to the window, gazing outside at the shady
scene. The rain had long since ceased, and the water that
stood on the ground silently reflected the little light
T'Kuht's edge on the horizon gave tonight.

"Well, never mind," Kirk said behind him. "I'll leave
tomorrow and -"

"Do you have a tight schedule?" Sarek interrupted him.

"No," Kirk replied. "I am retired - I am a free man for
now."

"Then, please, stay for a while," Sarek said and turned. "I
cannot promise to be as perfect a host as Amanda was, but I
would find your company...acceptable."

Kirk met his eyes, searching. "You mean it? I'm sure I'd
kick out anybody who came to me like this, uninvited
stepping on my toes... "

"I am no human, Kirk," Sarek replied.

Kirk smiled slightly. "I remember that very well." He stood
up. "I'll think over the invitation, Sarek. But for now,
I'll go to bed. I took the first guest room on the right
side of the stairs; I hope that's okay."

"Of course. I will see you tomorrow."

When the door closed behind Kirk, Sarek sat down on the
stool that had captured some of the human's body warmth. He
remained there for the rest of the night, thinking.

---

Someone touched him, shaking him, cool hands on him and a
cool voice above him.

"Do you always sleep in the kitchen?"

Sarek opened his eyes to find Kirk in front of him, and then
realized that he had indeed fallen asleep on the hard chair.
His back hurt distinctly, and his legs were stiff when he
stood up.

"It is not my usual habit."

"A good thing, I'm sure," Kirk said. "I was making coffee -
want some?"

"No, thank you." Sarek took Kirk's clothes in, the tight
suit with the sand protection gear and the water reservoirs.
"Are you going for a desert walk? That is a dangerous thing
after such a tempest."

Kirk took another milk package from the fridge. "I decided
on the Forge; it didn't rain there."

Sarek frowned. "That area is even more dangerous for
humans."

"No risk, no fun," Kirk said with a slanted smile as he
poured the white liquid into his cup. "I need some
distraction." He leaned back at the cupboard and took a sip
of milk.

Sarek tilted his head. "Would you be interested in company?"

Kirk raised a brow. "Sure."

"Give me ten minutes," Sarek said and left the kitchen.

Half an hour later they sat in his flitter on their way to
the Forge. Kirk had taken the navigation controls, unwilling
to rely on automatics, and Sarek found that the human flew
perfectly, if faster than any Vulcan would.

"What are you going to do now?" Sarek asked.

"Now? You mean in my retirement?" Kirk shot him a glance.
"Spend some time with hobbies. Breed some horses, maybe."

"Is that enough for a man with your experiences?"

"I've spent all my life in the Fleet, doing my duty for king
and country. It's time to hang around for a while." Kirk
finally switched to automatic pilot and leaned back. "I'm
not sure how long I can stand being retired, but when I get
sick of it, there will always be a place where I can go.
There are more offers for open positions on my desk than I
can fill in a lifetime."

Sarek gazed at the mountains that were drawing near at a
disturbing rate. The velocitymeter was locked on the edge of
his flitter's abilities as well as markedly above the law.
"It would be logical to use your expertise in the future."

"Logic hasn't dictated much of my life," Kirk replied. He
shifted in the driver's seat and looked at the Vulcan. "What
are you going to do now?"

"My next duties as Ambassador will start in a month," Sarek
replied emotionlessly.

"Never thought about doing something else entirely?"

"No."

Kirk rotated back toward the screen. "You know...sometimes I
envy Vulcans. Do you folks never have a midlife-crisis?"

"We do not have such a concept," Sarek said. "And I never
understood why humans experience insecurity and self-doubt
in the middle of a successful life."

"Perhaps we just can't deal with too much steadiness." Kirk
switched off the automatics again. "Should we land there?"
He pointed at an official parking spot on the geomap.

"Yes."

Kirk brought the flitter down safely. Outside, burning heat
greeted the two men, wrapping around and suffocating them.
It had been a long time since Sarek had gone into the
desert, and he remembered that it was almost too late in the
day to walk on the Forge. But maybe it was the right moment
to do something...illogical.

They closed their masks and walked through the glimmering
red sands in silence, leaving a small trail of steps behind
them.

---

"A hellish trip," Kirk gasped as he removed the sand mask
from his face when the flitter's door closed again ten hours
later. The sun was already going down above the hills that
marked the Forge's southernmost boundary.

"I agree," Sarek said roughly, wiping reddish grains from
his protective gear. "It was rather strenuous." The opening
mechanism resisted his efforts until the human helped him
out; in return he could free the mask clasp that had
entangled itself in the hair of Kirk's neck. His fingers
wiped along skin that was wet from sweat.

Kirk suddenly laughed. "We're a couple of old fools, aren't
we?"

Sarek graciously lifted a brow. "Old?"

"Old enough to see when we're fools," Kirk said in a low
voice, his gaze locking onto the Vulcan's lips. "Sarek..."
He reached out for the Vulcan's face.

Sarek took hold of the hand, enfolding it tightly.
"Kirk...do not." Their hands burned at the contact, emotions
flooding against the Vulcan's shields. Sarek dropped Kirk's
hand onto the human's thigh.

Kirk gave him a crooked smile. "Thanks for the slap. I
earned it." He leaned back into the driver's seat. "Ready to
go home?"

"Ready," Sarek said. They didn't talk on their way back.

---

His visitor was already gone when Sarek got up the next day.
Kirk had left a small note on the kitchen door that he was
going to visit Shi'Kahr, now that he had time for some
tourist activities.

Sarek picked up the note, his fingers taking in the minute
irregularities of the paper. He detected a feeling
of...disappointment...at Kirk's absence, although he knew
his own reaction of the day before was the reason for it.

Walking through the kitchen he went into the garden. It
looked devastated, the ground between the smaller plants
eroded into deep channels, and he felt another emotion -
guilt? - for not having taken immediate care of the damage
done by the water. At least the rose bush was unharmed, and
he took a half-opened bud into his fingers, sniffing it out
of habit, although he knew that his Vulcan senses did not
deliver the intense smell that Amanda had loved. How
differently they had experienced their surroundings in the
end. It was a wonder that they had ever found stable ground
in their relationship at all.

After trying to fix the worst damage, Sarek decided to call
his gardener. There was no logic in using his time for
something somebody else could do so much better. On his
office console, dozens of messages blinked for his
attention, but he ignored them, sending off only a message
to a gardener. Then he went into his meditation room. It was
dark and cool, and soon soothing calmness filled his mind as
he drifted into the deeper layers of meditation.

---

When he opened his eyes again, his time sense told him that
it was 5.3 hours later. His legs were stiff once more, his
circulation almost stopped from kneeling, and Sarek wondered
if the expression "old fool" was more fitting than he had
wanted to admit the day before. On Vulcan, old age was
culturally seen as the age of higher experience, and elders
were respected and listened to. Now that he was becoming an
elder himself and still found that there was much to learn,
he began to question the direct relation between wisdom and
age.

Outside the room, the faint smell of food lingered in the
corridors. Curiosity pulled him toward the kitchen where he
found Kirk fighting with two pots and the Vulcan-labeled
stove.

"Tse-ah is the plate in the rear," he said.

"Thanks," Kirk said and shifted one pot, touching the hot
material. "Ouch."

"Why do you not use the microwave unit?" Sarek inquired as
he went for the medical kit.

"I felt like cooking," Kirk said, waving his burned hand in
the air to cool it. "Another foolish idea, perhaps."

"Did you like the city?" Sarek asked, as he applied the skin
generator.

"Very ordered, very peaceful, some nice buildings," Kirk
said, keeping an eye on the pots.

"Not your style," the Vulcan deduced calmly.

Kirk shrugged. "Not really. But then, I don't have to live
here." He moved his fingers as Sarek finished the treatment.
"Hope you like vegetarian potato stew."

Sarek lifted a brow. "Terran potatoes are quite rare - where
did you acquire them?"

"Oh, I found a little shop that imports them from Earth. I
can give you its address."

"I do not cook," Sarek said.  He added hesitatingly, "But
Amanda loved to, when we were here."

"It'll be ready in half an hour," Kirk said, turning his
back to the Vulcan as he checked on the pots again. "Why
don't you set up the dinner table?"

Sarek nodded wordlessly and went to the living room.


Shortly after they ate in silence, then settled down in the
library with tea for Sarek and bourbon for Kirk, carefully
avoiding any personal topics by talking about interstellar
politics. The treaty between the Federation and the Klingon
Empire would cause a major power shift in the Alpha
Quadrant, which Romulans and other races would not favor.
New conflicts were likely to arise, and they agreed about
the necessity of keeping Fleet strength and military means.

"I thought you'd favor a Fleet reduction," Kirk said.

"Peace is our foremost goal, but not every enemy agrees with
us," Sarek replied dryly. "My attitude toward the Fleet has
changed over the decades, which is partly due to your and my
son's achievements. I no longer share the double-thinking of
many fellow Vulcans that others should protect us so that we
do not need to soil our fingers."

"To keep peace is costly," Kirk agreed, and placed the empty
glass aside.

"Not as costly as war is," Sarek replied. "May I offer you
another drink?"

"No, thanks." Kirk stood up, stretching his body. "Lord, I'm
tired. The Vulcan air really wears me out." He stepped
toward the window and gazed outside. "Your garden looks
pretty rundown at the moment."

"It will be taken care of," Sarek said, and stood up to join
his visitor at the window.

"I don't have a garden yet," Kirk said. "I wonder if I still
have the green thumb of my youth."

"I never had a garden before my wife began to cultivate
plants from various planets. It was always...Amanda's
place."

Their shoulders almost touched.

"I miss her," Sarek said slowly. "And it...hurts."

"I know," Kirk said in a low voice, and lay his arm around
Sarek's waistline. The Vulcan leaned against him, actively
enjoying the emotional comfort he received from the human.
They stood like that in silence for a while, until Sarek
pulled away.

"I really appreciate your presence, Kirk. It is just...too
early."

"I understand," Kirk replied. "It's okay, Sarek." He removed
his arm. "I'd better go to bed."

"Kirk -" Sarek turned and held him back by his shoulder.

"See you tomorrow, Sarek," the human said with a small smile
on his lips, and left the room.

---

The call from Starfleet came in the middle of the next day.

"They want me on Earth for the launch of the new
Enterprise," Kirk said when he stepped into Sarek's office,
already fully clothed. "I guess I should go."

"I will accompany you to Space Central." The Vulcan stood
up.

"Don't," Kirk said and reached out for Sarek's hand. "I'll
come back - if I dare." Their fingers laced, cool skin
meeting hot skin.

"You're welcome," Sarek said and leaned forward. They looked
at each other for a second, then they kissed, cautiously.
What they had had in the past had been fleeting encounters
in the safety net of other relationships; what was beginning
now was something else entirely.

"I'll be back soon," Kirk whispered into the Vulcan's mouth
as their lips parted.

"I'll be here," Sarek replied. And he stared after Kirk
until the dust of the flitter had settled down on the road
again, not knowing that it was goodbye forever.

---

The End