The BLTS Archive - For the Friends They Bring Us
#3: The Emissary
by Islaofhope (islaofhope@aol.com)

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Disclaimer: All things Star Trek belong to Paramount and Viacom. This
is a not-for-profit piece of fan fiction, not intended to infringe on
their copyright.

Notes: Part of the Spock Fuh-q Fest

This is a sequel to "The Friends They Bring Us" and "The Diplomatic
Mission" both of which are available on my website. T'James, Selek
Kirk, and Tomas are original characters created and developed with
T'Aaneli for "Champagne" and "Orange Juice," also available at my
website.

My deepest gratitude to Animasola and J S Cavalcante for beta-reading.

---

"Emissary?"

T'James Kirk, Dean of the Vulcan Science Academy and former bondmate
to Selek, late son of Spock cha Sarek, paused in the doorway to her
office. "Emissary?" When she walked in, she held out her hand.

At first, I was surprised that a Vulcan would offer to shake hands,
but then I looked down guiltily at the baseball I had picked up from
her credenza. The one with the inscription: Selek Kirk; San Francisco
Giants; Perfect Game. The stardate on the ball was one I knew well. It
was the date that James T. Kirk had disappeared during a VIP tour that
had turned into a rescue mission on the Enterprise-B. My throat
ached--never mind that I hadn't even been alive on that stardate. Was
it my own grief for someone who I had known a short time? Or was it
grief that had bled through from Spock?

I put the ball into her outstretched hand. "Were you at the game?" I
felt like an idiot as soon as I said it.

She blinked down at the ball. Maybe she really had intended to shake
my hand. She lifted an eyebrow and said, "Yes, the admiral gave me his
ticket. It is regrettable that he could not be there. He would have
been proud of his son." She didn't mention that Jim would not have
been lost if he had been at the game instead of aboard the
Enterprise-B on that stardate.

Her face showed no emotion as she replaced the baseball on the stand.
She turned back to me. "I was told that a friend of Spock's was here
to see him."

"And Jim's." As soon as I said it, I regretted it. Well, I had yet to
say anything intelligent.

A slight frown creased her forehead. "He was... gone before you were
born, Emissary."

I looked away. Looked at the holos on the credenza. Some included Jim
and Spock. T'James was in several. Some included children. "It's
complicated." I attempted a smile. "And classified."

I had met Jim Kirk and Spock during their first five-year mission when
they were almost-new lovers. My ship time-traveled, and my crew helped
me stop a madman from killing Jim Kirk. He had always been a personal
hero, so it was amazing to meet him. Impossible to explain how I ended
up in his bed. Incredible to remember Spock joining us. Years
later--in my own timeline--Ambassador Spock visited DS9, ostensibly on
a diplomatic mission. Spock confided that Jim was not dead, but was
out of reach. Somehow, Jim was with us when Spock and I fell into bed
together in the guest quarters on DS9.

T'James watched me, her expression conveying no information. I
wondered if she read my thoughts. Vulcans are touch telepaths, but we
were not in physical contact.

The motion she made could have been a shrug. "I am not certain that
Spock will see you. Nonetheless, I am willing to take you to him. If
you are a friend..." Her eyes shifted to the holo that I unthinkingly
put out my hand to touch. Jim and Spock toasting each other with
champagne flutes. Jim's expression was a wide smile, and Spock's
expression was enigmatic. "...perhaps seeing you will help him."

"Thank you."

"Gratitude is not necessary. I do it for him." With a graceful incline
of her head, she led me out of her office. We exited out the front
door into the hot Vulcan sun. A groundcar was parked in front, and she
gestured for me to get in.

We rode in silence for a moment before she said, "You grew up on
Terra?"

I nodded. "How did you know that?"

"You are a baseball fan, are you not? The love of the game is not
limited to Terra, but it is strongest there." She glanced at me
briefly, before returning her attention to the heavy traffic of
ShiKahr.

"And are you a fan?" Of all the topics to be discussing with the Dean
of the Vulcan Science Academy!

This time the motion was definitely a shrug. "I agreed with Spock that
it was not a logical way for my bondmate to employ his talents, but it
gave him pleasure. And to James T., as well." Her mouth curved up
slightly.

I soon discovered that she really was a fan. She followed it still,
eighty years after Selek had quit the game to rejoin Starfleet
following Jim's disappearance. We had a surprisingly spirited
conversation about the probable winners of the upcoming Worlds Series.

She stopped the groundcar in front of a large stone building, which
reminded me more of a fortress than a home.

"Come." We used a side entrance, and she led me down a corridor. We
stopped outside a door. "This was Sarek's study, but it is Spock's
now." There was no answer when she tapped on the door. She lifted an
eyebrow and tilted her head slightly before she pushed it open.

"Wait here," she said, but she left the door slightly ajar, as if she
didn't really intend to shut me out.

"Spock?" The room was dark. She walked in and immediately began to
pull open the curtains, so that light flooded the room.

I recognized Spock sitting behind the desk, his fingers steepled in
front of him. "I prefer it dark," Spock's low voice rumbled.

Briskly, she turned from the window, and fixed him with her large,
bright eyes. "You have a guest, and perhaps he would prefer to be able
to see."

"I have told you. I wish to see no one." Spock's tone of voice was
absolutely flat.

"It is past time for you to--"

"And will you now tell me that my grief is illogical? How long did you
mourn for Selek and later for Tomas?" His eyes fixed on her, but there
was no movement in his body.

"I did not sit useless in a dark room. I burned out my grief in my
work." She strode forward and planted herself in front of the desk,
fists on her hips.

"Have I not done enough for a lifetime?" He swallowed and looked away
from her.

She came back to the door and gestured for me to enter. His eyes fell
on me. "Benjamin," he murmured. "Why are you here?"

T'James looked at me before she went back at Spock to touch his
shoulder lightly. "You will speak with him?"

He moistened his lips, nodded, and said, "I will."

"I will return to the Academy. Until tonight, Father." She swept past
me on the way out the door. "Good luck. I hope you can help him."

Vulcans do not believe in luck. Or hope. Or so I thought.

I took a cautious step forward, holding out my hand. "Spock, I--"

"Why are you here? Did Picard send you?" His voice was harsh, and he
remained as still as a statue.

"Picard?" I spat out. "Jean Luc Picard is no friend of mine. He's
responsible for my wife's death." I clenched my fists at my sides,
remembered anger sweeping through me.

He looked away, his eyes suddenly very bright. "Something else we have
in common, Benjamin." He cleared his throat, and stood up, walking
around the desk. "You heard of Jim's death?"

"Yes." I took a step closer and laid my hand on his chest, feeling the
heat that radiated from him. "At least, I heard a rumor. And something
told me that I had to come to see you. I don't know what to say. Only
that I am sorry."

"Benjamin." He looked into my eyes but then looked away before he laid
his hand over mine. "Picard sent me a message. Picard was in the
Nexus. That is what he called the energy field. The one in which Jim
was trapped. When he disappeared from the Enterprise-B." He paused and
swallowed. "Picard reported that he sought Jim's help. Against a man
who intended to destroy a world. That man, Soran, intended to divert
the energy field. Together Jim and Picard changed the timeline. They
stopped Soran and saved the world, but Jim,,," He shook his head.
"...Jim died."

Spock's voice choked, and he dropped my hand to walk to the window. "I
had intended to..." He paused and took a long, shuddering breath. "I
interviewed some of the survivors rescued by the Enterprise. I had
been working on calculations regarding the energy field. I believed
that... I would see him again." His voice dropped to a whisper.
"Apparently, I was correct in my suppositions. But I miscalculated
when the energy field would be... in range. I am... too late."

I walked up behind him, laid both hands on his shoulders, and began to
knead the tight muscles. "I want to help you, but I don't know what to
do."

"Benjamin." He turned and pressed his face into my neck and wrapped
his arms around my waist. He embraced me so tightly that I couldn't
breathe for a moment. When he relaxed the embrace, tremors shook his
body. He wasn't weeping, but my own eyes were burning.

I laid one hand on the nape of his neck and the other on the small of
his back. "Spock." I moved my hands in slow circles, soothing him.
"I'm here for you. Whatever you need."

"I need Jim," he choked out. Hands shaking, I continued to caress him.
He lifted his head suddenly. "But it is illogical and wasteful to want
something that cannot be." He startled me by taking my face in his
hands and kissing my mouth swiftly. His eyes met mine. "This I can
still have?"

I grasped his elbows. "Yes, you can." I cradled the back of his head
in one hand and drew him close to kiss him deeply. God, he tasted
good. Cinnamon and cardamom. His mouth was hot; he sucked on my
tongue, and I groaned into his mouth. My other hand slid down to his
ass to pull him tight against me, and I ground my erection against
his. I drew back long enough to murmur, "Here, Spock? Or did you want
to go someplace more . . . comfortable?"

His hands flew to the fastenings of his robe. "Here." He paused and
lifted an eyebrow. "Do you mind?"

I chuckled and began to strip off my own tunic. "I'll make love to you
wherever you choose."

His robe pooled on the floor, and he stood before me naked. It took
longer for me to strip off my own boots and pants and socks and
briefs. I was very conscious of his hungry eyes on me.

We hesitated, standing an arm's length apart, but then he wrapped his
arms around me, pulling me close, and our erections pressed together.
I cried out, and we sank to our knees, our mouths locked together. Our
hands groped to stroke as much skin as we could reach. His skin was
hot, dry silk over steel muscles.

He pushed me back and straddled me, taking my cock into his mouth. I
grasped his cock, swirled my tongue over the head, and rolled his
balls between my fingers. His long tongue sent shivers through my
entire body; it didn't take long before my balls tightened, and I
orgasmed into his mouth.

When he pulled his still-hard cock out of my mouth, I gasped, "Fuck
me, Spock. I want you to fuck me."

"I will." His voice was a low growl.

We shifted again, and I drew my legs up to give him access. I almost
smiled at the intent look on his face as he prepared me by slipping in
a finger, lubricated by my semen. I gasped again, and closed my eyes,
savoring the invading heat of his long, thin digit.

He lifted my legs over his shoulders and grasped my hips before he
placed the tip of his cock against my opening. My eyes flew open, and
I stared at his face. His eyes were closed, his lips were parted, and
his expression was calm, almost worshipful.

His cock was halfway inside of me, gently stretching me, when I
reached for his forearms. "Spock," I whispered. He pulled out slowly
until only the tip was inside me, and I groaned softly. I shifted so
that I could impale myself completely, and I heard his answering
groan.

When he was completely inside, his pubic hair scratching against me, I
said, "Spock, tell me something."

He stilled against me, the entire hot length of his cock filling me
up. Supporting his weight on his hands, he made a He HHsound that was
almost a laugh. "Anything. At this moment, I would tell you anything."
His eyes opened; his pupils were dilated, and a smile tugged at the
corner of his mouth. "Benjamin."

I did laugh. "So, you think this would be an effective method of
interrogation?"

"Certainly the most pleasurable interrogation that I have ever
experienced." A slight shadow passed over his face, but then his
expression lightened again. "I believe that Jim would say, 'are we
going to talk, or are we going to fuck?'"

I smiled slightly, but then I turned solemn, saying, "When Jim died,
did you feel it?"

"An odd time to ask this question." His face lost all expression, and
he started to shift away from me.

I clamped my anal muscles around him, and I watched the pain/pleasure
suffuse his face. "No, don't go, Spock. There is no guilt between us,
remember? When you and I are together, Jim is here, too."

"No," he whispered, but he didn't pull out all the way. Instead, he
began to slowly move inside of me. He pushed his cock deep into me, so
that it pressed against my prostate, and I cried out softly. "Jim is
dead," Spock said, holding my eyes. "Only you and I here now."

The heat was filling me, but I couldn't give in to it. "Remember the
last time we were together." I groaned as he wrapped a hand around my
cock to pump it. "When we felt him."

"You talk too much," he said roughly, and he began to piston in and
out more rapidly. Anger and grief darkened his eyes, but his body was
a slave to his arousal.

"Nothing has changed, Spock," I gasped out. God, he felt good inside
me. Lie back and enjoy it, Ben. But I couldn't shut up. Something
inside me drove me to beg, "Touch my mind, Spock."

"No, Benjamin." His strokes shortened and became more forceful. He
tightened his grip almost painfully on my cock. His breath came out in
sharp gasps as he said, "This must be enough. For both of us."

The pressure built in my balls, and I screwed my eyes shut, crying out
harshly as I came. He shouted incoherently as he filled me with his
seed. When he slipped out of my body, I pulled him down in a crushing
embrace.

After a moment, he rolled over to sprawl on his back beside me, my
semen drying on our stomachs. His eyes were closed, a look of utter
calm on his face. His hands were relaxed at his sides, and his chest
rose and fell gently. I sat up, rubbing the cramps out of my legs.
"Spock?"

His eyes fluttered, but he shook his head as if unwilling to return
from a dream and closed his eyes again.

I reclined on my side and reached out to touch his cheek. "Spock?"

His eyes opened, and he grasped my hand in a grip that I suspected
would leave bruises. He turned his head, and favored me with a slight
smile. "Forgive me. I believe that I . . . that I was rude in
responding to your request for a meld."

I smoothed the damp hair off his forehead and bent to place a kiss on
each of his eyebrows and then his mouth. "It's OK. I understand."

He took a long shuddering breath and kissed my hand. "It was not my
intention to shut you out."

"There is no reason for you to open yourself to me." But I spooned my
body up against his, and he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me
close. I could feel his heartbeat thrumming against my side. "I don't
regret what we've shared."

"You misunderstand me," he murmured. He unhanded me to sit up and
stare out the window.

"What, Spock?"

"It is not my intention to reject you, but I was not ready... to share
a meld." He swallowed. "I did not answer your question. When you asked
if I felt Jim's death." He shook his head. "I am astonished that I did
not question Picard's report. I have no evidence that Jim's status has
changed." He steepled his fingers in front of him. "Certainly I have
no proof. Nonetheless, it is possible that what Picard saw in the
Nexus was his own projection. Not Jim. But Picard's additional data is
welcome. There is much work to be done."

I sighed. "I'm no scientist, so I'm not going to be much help." I sat
up and reached for my clothes. "Do you mind if I take a shower?"

He reached for my hand again. "Benjamin, I am . . . grateful to you. I
will see to your comfort." Smoothly, he rose to his feet, pulling me
up with him.

And he lived up to his word. Being sucked off in a water shower on a
desert planet is an unmatched erotic sensation.

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The End