The BLTS Archive - First Love, Last Love
by JMLane (jmlane55@yahoo.com)

---

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Paramount except my
imagination.

Archive: ASC(EM), BLTS. Any others, please ask.

Date: 17 Jun 2000

Feedback would be very much appreciated.

---

The crew of the starship *Enterprise* was in an uproar of
late... and with good reason. Spock, their second-in-command
and Science Officer, was  getting married. And not to just
anyone, but to the one woman who had loved  him devotedly
and unselfishly from a distance these many years--Dr.
Christine Chapel.     Nyota Uhura, Communications Chief, was
Christine's closest friend and had naturally been chosen to
be her bridesmaid. Only Uhura knew the full extent and
duration of her friend's feelings for the Vulcan. She had
spent many late nights sitting up with Chris and
commiserating with her, both sympathizing and empathizing at
the seeming futility of the other woman's star- crossed
love. But knowing Christine as she did, the Bantu woman knew
that her friend was not one to give up. She would either win
Spock or die trying -- and she had. Won him, that is.

---

Spock, on the other hand, had definitely not started out
loving her. In fact, he had instead gone out of his way to
avoid her for many years, only being around her when he
couldn't get out of it. He had felt a mixture of discomfort,
surprise and embarrassment in her presence... embarrassment
at the intensity of her feelings. His change of heart had
been a long time coming and it had not been easy --
especially for such a logical being. Now that he and
Christine were together, however, and as far as both were
concerned, the wait had been  well worth it. Even so, Spock
had never been a demonstrative person... particularly in
public. The furthest he would go was surreptitious smile and
finger-crossing.

Of course, behind the closed doors of their private quarters
was another matter. Uhura had not been surprised at the
first revelation, but at the second, her large brown eyes
grew even larger -- so much so that Christine was unable to
keep from laughing. "Since when is that so surprising? I've
always known it," the female physician reminded her friend.
"Hell, not even Spock can be a machine 100% of the time!"

Uhura shrugged sheepishly. "I guess I'm too used to his
logical facade. One thing's for sure, though -- he's a
consummate actor!"

"Tell me about it," Christine agreed. She chuckled before
lapsing into a Christmas-morning smile at the thought of the
tenderly passionate night she and Spock had spent
together... their first as actual lovers. Up to this point,
the only lovemaking between them had been in Christine's
dreams and fantasies.

Even so, she had discovered to her delight that the reality
not only equalled but surpassed every fantasy she had ever
had. "I had no idea that Spock knew so much about
lovemaking," she marveled. "I thought I would have to teach
*him*, but he ended up teaching *me*!"

This time it was Uhura who laughed. "For heaven's sake,
Chris, what do you think the man's been doing all these
years, resting on his laurels? You know his insatiable
curiosity and appetite for knowledge."

"But whoever dreamed he would be so interested in lovemaking
techniques?" Christine's tone was incredulous.

"Probably his Human half manifesting itself," Uhura
observed. "Of course, there's always the possibility that
the Captain's been giving him pointers." She gave Christine
a sly wink. "Which reminds me..." Her voice trailed off.
"Where are you going on your honeymoon?"

"Spock was considering going to Vulcan and staying with his
parents. Unfortunately Fleet brass just informed him that
neither of us can be spared at this time. We ended up
compromising and agreed to share his shipboard quarters
instead. The Captain suggested the VIP quarters, but I
sensed that Spock would feel most comfortable in his own."
Christine smiled at the thought of her future husband. "Of
course, it doesn't matter to me where we are as long as
we're alone together."

Uhura  smiled and nodded understandingly. At that moment the
door buzzer sounded. "Come," Christine said.

Leonard McCoy stuck his head around the partition, giving a
wolf whistle upon seeing the women in their wedding finery.
"Lord, if you two  aren't a sight for sore eyes! I declare,
I've never seen two prettier things in my life!" The Captain
would be officiating at the Federation  ceremony, so Spock
asked his second-best friend to be best man. McCoy jumped at
the chance. "Just wait till I tell Spock!" he teased.

Both women smiled in the Doctor's direction. "It's time,"
Bones continued. "Let's go, ladies. We're keeping everybody
waiting -- especially Spock. I swear, I've never seen any
fella more anxious to get married!" McCoy winked in
Christine's direction, prompting her to give him a playful
poke in the ribs as the three left her quarters, Uhura on
their heels.

---

Spock had never been a party person, so the others kept the
reception brief in deference to him. Even the ceremony
itself had been private, with only the couple's closest
friends in attendance. The Vulcan would have been
uncomfortable with any more people around, especially since
he had agreed to kiss Christine at the ceremony and he had
never kissed her in public before.

He had endured the reception in deference to his new wife
and their friends, even though he privately considered it an
unnecessary emotional display. However, he knew that Humans
had an emotional need for some kind of celebration. They
wouldn't consider that they had given him and Christine a
proper send-off otherwise. It was only after toasts, shaking
of hands, hugs and kisses all around that they were at last
sent on their way to his quarters -- their "honeymoon suite"
for the duration.

It was unbelievable to Christine that she would feel so
different now that Spock was her husband as well as bondmate
and lover. She couldn't have said exactly how her feelings
had changed; she only knew that they had changed. Whatever
the case, every dream she had ever dreamed had come true,
culminating in this moment -- the moment that she and Spock
became husband and wife.

The one thing which would make their love complete was a
child... a child who looked like Spock. Velvety brown eyes,
upswept brows, elegant ears and cupid's-bow lips. She wanted
to start right away, but Spock vetoed the idea, even though
he loved her all the more for her desire to bear him a child
to carry on his name. Even so, he wanted to have her all to
himself as long as possible. There was still time for that,
he pointed out.

Even as much as Christine wanted Spock's child, she had to
concede his point. She admitted that she too wanted him all
to herself as long as  possible. She had waited far too long
for him to belong to her as it was. As a result she intended
to share him with no one, not even their child, until they
both agreed that enough time had passed. Once the time came,
however, they would work diligently to become parents. Of
course, even failed attempts would be extremely enjoyable.

---

After three months of marriage, the couple decided that
enough time had passed and that they wanted to try for a
child. After a long heart -to- heart talk, Spock and his
wife sat down with McCoy to discuss the ramifications of a
Human pregnancy where the father was a Vulcan. The Chief 
Surgeon admitted that successful pregnancies between the two
races *were* possible. Spock wouldn't have been here
otherwise. At the same time, the fact of his dual heritage
might well complicate matters rather than simplify them.

But Christine, newly a bride and deeply in love with her
husband, momentarily brushed aside the possible risks. She
wanted to bear Spock a child and was willing to take a
chance if it meant being a mother. She was as much a medical
professional as McCoy, so she knew what she was getting
into. Spock had also had his mother write her and explain
what a Human pregnancy by a Vulcan involved.

Of course, there were bound to be differences which would
have to be taken into consideration because of Spock's
background. He and Christine agreed that they would cross
that bridge when they came to it. It might take time --
several months, perhaps -- but Christine didn't care how
long it took if it meant bearing Spock a child. Even so, she
would have to be carefully monitored for the duration of her
pregnancy.

She wasn't sure who would be the biggest mother hen once she
did become pregnant... Spock or Leonard. Of course, she also
told herself that she could live with their fussing, babying
and general mollycoddling if it meant having a healthy baby.

---

Sooner than either Christine or Spock could have imagined
possible -- within a month -- their wish was granted. You
couldn't have found a happier pair of expectant parents
anywhere. McCoy hugged the stuffing out of Christine after
diagnosing her pregnancy. In addition, he laughed at the
look on  Spock's face when the Doctor offered him a cigar in
celebration of his up-coming fatherhood.

Not even the Doctor's explanation that it was a Human
tradition changed the Vulcan's expression one bit -- not
even when he was assured that he only had to accept it, not
smoke it. Of all the  unfathomable ways of Humans, this had
to be the worst. The outcome of Christine's pregnancy would
not be affected, nor was it necessary to  wish an expectant
father well on his coming child by encouraging him  to
accept such an item.

Surely there was a more logical way to congratulate a
father-to-be than this. It took a detailed explanation from
Christine for Spock to realize that the Doctor had meant
well, he had simply gone about it the wrong way. For that
reason, Spock appreciated the sentiment behind the action,
even as much as he disliked the action itself.

Even so, he frankly preferred Jim and Uhura's manner of
congratulations... a pat on the back or kiss on the cheek
accompanied by a sincere  "Congratulations." Of course, he
wouldn't hurt McCoy's feelings by saying so, but fervently
hoped he would never have to endure such an incident again.

---

As Christine's pregnancy progressed, the overjoyed
parents-to-be made excited preparations for their coming
child. McCoy had known the child's  gender from the start,
but Christine said she preferred to wait until the birth to
find out. However, she was secretly hoping for a boy, a son
who would be the image of his father.

Spock, on the other hand, preferred to know the gender of
his unborn child. He asked his wife, but she told him to ask
McCoy. He learned that it was to be a girl, which he was
hoping for. They agreed to give their child -- whether boy
or girl--one Human and one Vulcan name in keeping with their
dual heritage. So far they had only decided on a name for a
girl: T'Mara Elizabeth. They were still debating on one for
a boy.

---

When Christine was six months pregnant, Uhura gave her a
baby shower. She invited all their friends and acquaintances
who either had children or young nieces and nephews. At
first the guests were unsure what kind of present to bring;
Uhura told them that whatever they considered appropriate
for a baby would be fine.

Everyone hugged, kissed and congratulated a radiant
Christine as she sat in a comfortable chair in the living
room of the quarters  she shared with Spock. The others
exchanged anecdotes about their children or young relatives,
how they and their mates or siblings had reacted to a given
situation. They even asked how Spock was taking it.
Christine said he was pleased at being an expectant father
and was spoiling her rotten, almost literally waiting on her
hand and foot.

Most found it hard to believe that a Vulcan could act like
that, but Christine let it wash over her. Let think that
they liked; she knew better. As for Spock, Uhura had asked
the Captain to engage him in a few games of  3-D chess in
order to keep him busy for a few hours -- even let him win
one  or two. Even as good as the Vulcan was, Kirk could beat
him when he put his mind to it.

Uhura was certain that the shower would be over by 2200, but
took no chances. She arranged for McCoy to call and tell
Christine it was time for her to go to bed. She was
approaching a critical point in her pregnancy and needed all
the rest and sleep she could get.

The Doctor called on schedule; Uhura began to diplomatically
dismiss everyone after bidding them goodbye and letting them
congratulate Christine again. By 2230 everyone was gone;
Uhura helped her expectant friend prepare for bed and get
settled, then called Kirk and told him the coast was
clear... Spock could come back whenever he liked. The
Captain told her that Spock was putting the 3-D set away and
would be arriving shortly.

The Bantu quietly slipped out, chuckling as she envisioned
the look on Spock's face when he saw all the baby stuff upon
entering the quarters he shared with his wife. It had no
doubt been difficult for Kirk to keep Spock's mind on the
game, so concerned was the Vulcan about his wife and child.
Of course, the Captain was a pretty persuasive person, so
Uhura was  sure he'd figured a way to keep Spock busy
without too much trouble.

She also made sure to remind Christine that she wanted to be
the baby-sitter of choice should one be needed in the
foreseeable future. Christine had agreed readily -- mostly
to pacify her, Uhura suspected, since the latter knew that
her friend was tired and wanted her to leave so Spock would
return and they could go to bed.

---

The Vulcan automatically headed for the sleeping alcove upon
arrival to check on his pregnant wife. He was relieved to
find her asleep. She sighed happily as he leaned down and
softly kissed her lips. She then snuggled deeper into the
warmth of their bed.

He told the lights to go out after undressing, leaving only
the flame-pot burning. He then slid into bed beside
Christine, drawing her close to him and pressing her head
down to rest on his shoulder. His cheek rested on the silky
cap of her hair.

It was only here, in the privacy of his bedchamber with the
one woman he loved most in the universe (aside from his
mother) snuggled close to  him, that Spock knew he could not
have asked more of life if he lived five hundred years. He
was so totally, completely happy. No, not totally. That
would happen when their daughter was born in two point
six-two months.

---

It seemed that Spock and Christine had hardly turned around
before it was time for the baby. She had insisted on
working, declaring that she would climb the walls with
nothing to do all day. Nothing Spock or McCoy said dissuaded
her. For the first few months, she was allowed to work her
regular shifts, but after that McCoy put his foot down. Now
that her pregnancy was further advanced, the Doctor insisted
that she had to do Sickbay 'paperwork' in her and Spock's
quarters on the computer she shared with her husband. Spock
backed him to the hilt. She was taking enough risks as it
was.

It was either that, McCoy said, or he would slap her into a
Sickbay bed so fast it would make her head spin. Christine
sighed in resignation, knowing that Leonard would indeed
make good on his threat if she tried to defy him. She had
seen it too often in the past *not* to believe.

The Vulcan was quite an indulgent husband, allowing his wife
leave to do pretty much as she pleased -- up to a point.
Even Spock's loose reins had their limits. He was not about
to allow her to take unnecessary risks with her health or
that of their child, no matter what her objections.

In this instance Christine learned to her dismay that there
was no budging Spock from his stand. He and Leonard rarely
agreed, but this was one time the two of them were of one
mind -- united in their mutual love and concern for her
health as well as that of the unborn  child she carried.

It was in the middle of some of the aforementioned
'paperwork' that labor pains began. She dropped what she was
doing and held her large belly protectively as she began to
feel pain and pressure in her lower body. Christine
instinctively reached out for her husband with her mind as
she grabbed hold of the desk and pulled herself to her feet.
Somehow she managed to reach the bed and position herself
properly between pains before her 'water bag' broke.

Spock entered the quarters moments later, making a beeline
for the sleeping alcove where his pregnant wife reposed in a
semi-reclining position, pillows propped up behind her. Her
legs were slightly apart, bare feet resting on the bed. Her
hands clutched at the coverlet as she winced and moved
restlessly with every pain, pushing whenever she felt
pressure.

She sensed Spock's presence before seeing him, looking up
and smiling through her pain. *Spock... the baby... it's
coming...*

His long, slender fingers found the nerve points on her
face; within seconds he had joined his mind to hers in a
healing meld. *I know, beloved. I felt your pain. It will be
all right; do not be concerned. Do you think you could make
it to Sickbay? I believe we are going to need Dr. McCoy.*

*I don't think so. The pains are coming pretty close
together. You'd better have him come here.*

*Very well.* Spock reached to open the bedside intercom with
his free hand, wincing at the pain he felt from Christine
whenever she bore down.

"Sickbay. McCoy here," came the prompt reply. "Spock, is
something wrong?" the Doctor asked, concerned.

"Christine... is in labor, Doctor. She has... requested your
presence ... at your earliest convenience."

McCoy could tell how much control Spock was exerting. He
motioned to an orderly to equip him with an emergency
surgical kit as well as his regular medikit after being
helped into a surgical scrub shirt. Gloves could wait until
he reached Spock and Chris's quarters.

"I'm on my way, Spock. Hang on. McCoy out."

---

It seemed forever before the Doctor arrived, but at last
Spock's sensitive ears caught the sound of the door buzzer.
"Come," he called; McCoy entered. "In here, Doctor," came
the First Officer's voice from the sleeping alcove. McCoy
followed it, putting on his surgical gloves after scrubbing
up and powdering his hands in the bathroom.

"How is she, Spock?" he asked upon reaching the bed.

"Fully dilated, Doctor," was the reply even as the Vulcan
kept his mind linked with his wife's.

"Then it shouldn't be but a few more hours -- but you'll
have to play nurse. It would take too long to get to Sickbay
and have everything set up."

At that moment Christine writhed and moaned. "Spock..." she
said out loud, voice laced with pain.

"I am here, my wife. It will not be much longer," he told
her soothingly.

"The pain," she whispered. "Please stop the pain..."

Spock's heart went out to his wife, but there was little he
could do beyond taking on the worst of her pain and keeping
their minds linked while  Dr. McCoy helped the child along.
He leaned down to kiss her damp forehead as the Doctor eased
the baby's head and shoulders out. "I am doing all I  can,"
he assured her. "And the Doctor is here. You will be all
right soon -- as will our child."

"I love you," she murmured, prompting unbidden tears in her
husband's eyes. As time passed, his love and respect for her
courage in the face of such pain grew by leaps and bounds.
She was in great pain, but took the time to reassure him.
For the umpteenth time he wondered how he could ever have
been deemed worthy of such as her.

Even after all the heartache he had caused her, Christine
had continued loving him and standing by him, always there
should he need her. He couldn't help but feel a pang of
guilt and regret for the way he had unthinkingly hurt this
gentle, loving woman over the years. It would take him the
rest of his life to make it up to her, but it was a debt he
was glad to pay. He was sure she had forgiven him long ago,
but it would be a long time before he would be able to
forgive himself.

"And thank you," she concluded between pains.

Spock raised an incredulous eyebrow. "For what?" His voice
was just loud enough for his wife to hear.

"For giving me this... opportunity to bear you a child," she 
answered.

*The pleasure is all mine,* he told her through their bond.
*In addition, I could not have done it without you.*

"Spock," McCoy called, bringing the Vulcan back to reality.

"Yes, Doctor?" He looked up into McCoy's eyes.

"Your child," the Doctor smiled. "She's here."

"She is?" Spock could hardly believe his ears. He had sensed
a lessening of his wife's pain, but had no recollection of
the Doctor wiping the baby off, giving her a rubdown or
anything that followed. OF course, he had been lost in
thought, so that could account for it.

He looked down, relieved to see Christine asleep. He gently
broke the meld and brushed her lips with his while McCoy
returned to the bath- room to remove his surgical gloves and
wash the newborn child. The next  thing he knew, the Doctor
was calling from the bathroom. "In here, Spock. Come meet
your daughter."

The Science Officer had to force himself to move from his
wife's side, but managed to do it in order to see his
newborn daughter. The Chief Surgeon had the infant lying on
a towel spread on the bathroom counter near  the sink,
protecting the child with his body. In obvious ways the
child looked like him, Spock noted... ears, brows,
cheekbones... but her hair (what there was of it) was
brownish-blonde and she had her mother's patrician nose and
lips.

He wasn't sure what color eyes she had and asked McCoy. "I
didn't think to look, to tell you the truth," he was told.
"But her eyes should be open in a day or so and we'll find
out then. In the meantime, we'd better get them to Sickbay.
There shouldn't be any problems, but I don't want to take
any chances, so I'm keeping them overnight. You bundle Chris
up and I'll take the baby."

Spock automatically wrapped his wife in a blanket and
followed the Doctor out, carrying her in his arms as they
entered a turbolift a short distance down the corridor,
which would take them to Sickbay.

---

Once mother and child were properly settled, McCoy suggested
that Spock shower and change, then go to bed. It had been a
long night and both had earned their rest. The Vulcan was
ready to refuse, but there had been such authority in
McCoy's voice that he found himself obeying without a 
murmur. He returned upon completion of the aforementioned
task.

He also requested permission to remain with his wife and
daughter because it was too lonely in their quarters by
himself. The Doctor waved his hand absently as he yawned
deeply. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt. There's an empty bed
next to hers; you can use it." McCoy was already heading for
the Sickbay doors. "I'm going to have a shower and fall into
bed. Let me know if Chris or the baby needs anything. I'll
see you all in the morning."

"Of course, Doctor." Spock waited until the doors closed
behind  McCoy before drawing a curtain around his wife's bed
and joining her there after undressing. He drew her into his
arms and promptly fell asleep with their child between them.

---

For the next two and a half months, the three lived a dream
of what marriage and parenthood could be like. It hardly
seemed possible that anyone could have been so blessed, so
happy. Of course, in spite of it all, Christine was
apprehensive. This was usually when some kind of disaster
struck and she didn't want anything to destroy the perfect
happiness they shared.

"We are both healthy, my wife, as is our child, and we are
happy. It is unlikely that that will change any time soon,"
Spock pointed out. He and Christine were relaxing on their
bed, their small daughter napping in her nearby antigrav
cradle. He reached up to stroke his wife's hair, then kissed
her before his embrace gently tightened.

"You and your eternal optimism." Christine smiled as she
raised a hand up to caress her husband's cheek before
stealing another kiss. "I do hope you're right, Spock. I
would like for us to be like this always, have nothing ever
change it. Unfortunately, life isn't always kind. It can
treat you well for a time, then turn around and strike you
down with death or serious illness -- if not your own, that
of someone close to you."

Spock frowned. "You sound as though you want or expect
something bad to happen. A most illogical attitude."

"I'm only trying to be realistic," she threw back
defensively.

"That is not how it sounds," he countered, releasing her
upon hearing little T'Mara awaken. "But there is no time for
further discussion now. Our daughter is demanding
attention." As Christine got up, her husband finished, "Let
us not dwell on speculation of what may or may not happen in
the future. Instead, let us make the most of right now, for
that is what is  most important."

---

Unfortunately this was one time Spock would be proved wrong
and Christine right, though he was mercifully unaware of it
at this point. Even so, her words had disturbed him more
than he cared to admit, even to her.

It was a bare two weeks later that things began to change.
At first Spock told himself it was simply coincidence, but
as time went by, even he had to admit that Christine's words
had been all too prophetic.

Thus began a time of anguished, hopeful prayer for Spock,
even though he generally didn't believe in it -- prompted by
his Human half, he was sure. Not to mention sorrow of such
depth and intensity that not even his Vulcan discipline
could overcome it or keep it from showing on his face or in
his voice... and virtually every aspect of his life.
Christine and McCoy had treated some natives of Epsilon
Canaris III for Sakuro's Disease. It was rare but always
fatal if contracted and not treated before its critical
stage was reached, which could be anywhere from  a week to a
month, depending on the patient.

They managed to save the ones who came into their care, but
had no idea how Christine could have become infected. McCoy
couldn't believe it because decon procedures had been
scrupulously observed. It wasn't until two weeks after the
Canarans' departure that they learned of her exposure.

Due to her relative youth and good health, the first symptom
to manifest itself was a low-grade fever. Christine
dismissed it and was even able to hide it for a time. Spock
became understandably alarmed when the fever went over one
hundred degrees and ordered his wife to Sickbay for
treatment. She maintained that she had had fevers like this
many times before and  that they were nothing to worry about
because she always recovered within a  couple of days. When
Spock persisted, she chided him for being a mother  hen, but
did promise to go see McCoy if she wasn't better within two
days ...which she wasn't. Instead, she grew worse, soon
unable to nurse their  daughter.

The little girl had to be put on formula because of this;
Spock, McCoy and Uhura alternated caring for her. By the
time McCoy discovered the illness, an infection had invaded
Christine's mouth so that she was unable to eat. All she
could do was drink -- and not much of that. What she did
get, she got IV or through a straw. Talking was  restricted
too. She had always been slender, but was now positively
emaciated... not to mention too weak to even lift her head
from her pillow.

Because the other patients had needed so much, the supply of
necessary medications was dangerously low. Even at maximum
warp, they were at least a week away from the nearest
facility which could replenish their supply. What's more,
there were no ships near enough to pick up the necessary
medications and deliver them to the *Enterprise* in time to
do Christine any good.

Spock visited his wife every day, sometimes bringing their
daughter with him. At those times he would place the child
so Christine's hand could  brush the baby's brownish-blonde
curls. Either that or he positioned the tiny girl so her
mother could brush her lips across her forehead in a brief
kiss.

It was almost too much of an effort for Christine to even
smile any more, but she could no longer speak without pain
-- so a smile was her only means of telling Spock how she
appreciated his bringing small T'Mara to see  her. It was
one of the few things she responded to other than his
playing his Vulcan harp for her.

Even so, Spock held out cautious hopes for her recovery
until the first symptoms characterizing the disease's
critical stage began to appear... such as red corpuscle
death, which prompted pain in Christine's bones and
joints... then erratic respiration and dangerously low blood
pressure.

Because of these symptoms, Christine had to be monitored
around the clock. McCoy hated feeling so helpless,
alternating between swearing and crying at the lack of
proper drugs to cure her. On Gamma Canaris N, the Companion
had joined with the Sakuro's-afflicted Nancy Hedford to save
her life, but there was no such last-minute lifesaver for
Christine.

Worst of all was the fact that she could have been cured in
a matter of hours if they had just had enough of the proper
medications. As it was, she was slowly dying before his very
eyes and he could do nothing to save  her.

Of all people, Christine should not be dying. Not now, when
she had so much to live for. A devoted husband, a beautiful
child, a flourishing career... What would happen to Spock
when she died? He had been so happy and content because he
was finally being loved as he deserved. He had become
dependent on Christine's love almost for his very existence.
What would become of him when that love was gone?

---

Upon receiving word of Christine's illness, the *Enterprise*
crew had been praying for a miracle -- and none more
fervently than her closest friend  Nyota Uhura. She
privately cried after every visit, her heart aching as much
for the husband and daughter Chris would leave behind, Spock
and T'Mara, as for Chris herself.

It was becoming progressively more difficult to keep a
cheerful front for Christine. She had to know that it was
only a matter of time now, that her life could be measured
in days, if not hours... but Uhura forced herself to do it,
nonetheless.

As for Spock, even his relatively limited medical knowledge
could not disguise the fact that he knew his wife was dying,
even though he too kept up a front for her sake. It was Kirk
who happened to catch the look of sorrow in his Vulcan
friend's eyes when the two were playing a game of 3-D chess.

They hadn't played in some time, not since before
Christine's illness had worsened. After that Spock spent
almost all of his time with her, hardly leaving her side
even to sleep or eat. He only left to go on his duty shift
or shower and change clothes, leaving standing orders to
notify him immediately of any change whatsoever in her
condition. T'Mara's care  was now in the hands of McCoy and
Uhura.

The Captain had only come to Sickbay once during Christine's
illness, not long before the critical stage. He was stunned
and horrified at the change in her. She who had been so
beautiful was reduced to a living skeleton. Her frail body
barely made a dent in the blankets that covered  her and she
didn't move at all the entire time he was there, scarcely
even breathing.

But what really went to his heart was seeing Spock holding
her pencil- thin fingers to his cheek, then raising them to
his lips and kissing them. The Vulcan thought he was alone,
so he allowed himself to cry, whispering her name over and
over as tears silently fell on the fragile hand he held.

Kirk kept a respectful distance in spite of his desire to go
to his grieving friend and comfort him. Words were so
inadequate at a time like this, but Kirk still wished he
could have taken Spock's pain and borne it for him.

"Rook to Queen's Level Two," the Vulcan said, raising an
eyebrow when Kirk didn't reply. A long silence followed
before Spock broke it. "Jim? Jim, is anything wrong?"

The Captain visibly jumped as Spock's voice registered.
"Huh? What? Oh, sorry, Spock. I was -- preoccupied."

"What is your move?" Spock persisted.

"Uh... Knight to King's Level One," Kirk finally said, all
too aware of Spock's eyes on him, seeming to read his mind.

The game wasn't long in ending since Spock had his Human
friend checkmated within the next two moves. The strange
part was that Kirk should have won. It was because of that
wrong move that the Vulcan knew there was definitely
something on Jim's mind, for the Captain hardly seemed to
notice or  even hear him when he said, "Checkmate."

Another silence followed before Spock's eyes narrowed,
stabbing right through Kirk. It was all the Human could do
to sit still. "Jim, if there is something you wish to
discuss with me, I would appreciate your coming out with
it."

The Captain sighed. "I never could keep anything from you --
and I'm sorry if I seemed... evasive. I merely wanted to
help you forget your troubles, at least for a little while."

The Vulcan smiled slightly, knowing which 'troubles' Kirk
meant. "Christine, I assume," he said quietly.

Kirk nodded. "She's dying, you know," he pointed out,
wishing he hadn't when unfathomable sorrow clouded his
friend's eyes.

"I know. Dr. McCoy says it is only a matter of hours now."
Spock's voice was barely above a whisper; his head was bowed
to hide his misty eyes. He had no idea he could cry so
easily. Control always came so effortlessly before.

Kirk reached a hand to cover his Vulcan friend's own,
clasping it in a gesture of comfort and affection. Spock
grasped the hand like a life-line. "Spock, it's all right to
cry. It's a normal reaction at a time like this. You have
nothing to be ashamed of."

The Vulcan kept his head bowed, feeling a painful lump form
in his throat as tears filled his eyes and threatened to
overflow. He fought to hold them back. "Normal for Humans,
perhaps. I am a Vulcan."

"Grief is natural for anyone in your situation, Spock --
even Vulcans. You have simply been taught to hide it,
suppress it." Kirk gave his friend a knowing look. "I defy
you to say otherwise."

Spock looked up to meet Kirk's eyes; the Captain saw that
his friend's face was wet with tears. He wasn't even trying
to hide his grief. "Thank you, Jim. Thank you for caring. I
-- have been keeping up a front for... Christine's sake, but
the thought of -- losing her is almost more than I can 
bear." The Vulcan bowed his head again, ashamed at his
weakness but knew that Jim would take it to his own grave,
never telling even McCoy.

"She has -- given me so much. So much love and... happiness.
Not to mention -- my daughter. Jim, I -- love her. I need
her! She... mustn't die, I tell you -- she *must not* die. I
could not... live without her!"

The 3-D set had been put away a short time before, and the
two friends were talking over drinks when the Vulcan
suddenly fell silent. Kirk looked up at his alien friend and
was stunned. He had never seen anyone so grief-stricken,
hardly knowing what to say -- or if, indeed, there was
anything *to* say. "Spock, I'm..." His voice trailed off,
words failing him.

"Jim..." The voice was so broken, so filled with anguish and
sorrow that Kirk felt tears burn his own eyelids. The next
thing he knew, his Vulcan friend left his chair and threw
himself into his arms. Spock clung to Kirk like a lifeline,
his shoulders shaking with the sobs he had held back for so
long as he knelt beside the Captain's chair and buried his
face in his friend's shoulder. Kirk knew that Spock was
capable of tears; he had seen it many times in the course of
their friendship -- but never had he been like this.

James Kirk had endured his share of tragedy too,
particularly the deaths of his son David, Spock himself, his
brother and sister-in-law -- not to mention Edith Keeler and
his own pregnant young wife, Miramanee. Sharp pain stabbed
him at the thought of them, but his concern for Spock took
top priority right now. His duty was to be the best friend
he knew how to be; he must do everything possible to help
his beloved friend work through his grief and eventually
accept it -- then get on with his life as Christine would 
want him to.

It wasn't too long after Spock had quieted that the intercom
beeped insistently. "Sickbay to Kirk." McCoy's voice was
dull with his own suppressed grief. "Jim, is Spock there? If
he is, tell him to come to Sickbay right away. It's
Christine..." The Doctor's voice almost broke.

"We'll be right there, Bones," Kirk promised. "Captain out."
He felt the tousled dark head lift from his shoulder even as
his hand lifted from  where he had been stroking Spock's
silky dark hair in a soothing manner. "Spock, McCoy just
called. It's Christine." The Vulcan was on his feet in a
flash, out the door almost before Kirk knew he had moved.

Kirk followed within moments, reaching Sickbay in time to
see Spock gather his wife's almost weightless body into his
arms, kissing her hair passionately.

*Christine, my wife... don't leave me. Please don't leave
me. I need you!*

*Spock, my beloved,* came her fading mind-voice. *You
have... made me so happy. I have... cherished our time
together. Now promise me...* Her mind-voice grew even
fainter; she was slipping away even as she  spoke.

*Anything,* he promised. *Only please stay!*

*I... wish I could... Please -- take care of T'Mara. Tell
her about me when -- she's old enough to understand. Tell
her how I... loved her, loved her before she was... ever
born. And I... want you to remarry when you are  ready.
You... need someone to love -- and someone to love you.
Promise me... even if you don't mean it, promise me.*

*I... promise,* came the reluctant and sorrowful reply.

*Kiss me... goodbye. I want to...d ie with the taste of your
kiss... on my lips.* The Vulcan kissed his wife for the last
time even as tears again filled his eyes.

*Thank you...*

He felt her go limp in his arms.

*Christine!* his mind cried, in anguish.

*Goodbye, my beloved...I will wait for you.* With that, she
died in his arms.

*Christine!* he called again, but she was gone. Their link
had been pulled out by the roots, leaving wounds that hurt
to Spock's very soul. He had never felt so empty and alone
in his life -- and there would never be another. Not like
Christine. She was in a class by herself. Oh gods, why could
he not have died with her? How could he ever go on without
her?

For an interminable time Spock simply sat there and held
her, his tears wetting her hair as he buried his face in it
and sobbed, inhaling the breath of fragrance still lingering
there. The next thing he knew, there was a gentle touch on
his shoulder, accompanied by an even gentler voice. "Spock,
she's gone. It's time to let her go."

"Never," he whispered stubbornly.

"It's what she wanted. You must honor it," the voice
insisted.

"Please... leave me alone, Doctor. Let me be with her -- one
last time." There was such pleading in their friend's voice
that Kirk and McCoy could do nothing but comply.

"All right, Spock. I suppose we owe you that much. Come on,
Jim... You have ten minutes," the Doctor said just before
the Sickbay doors swished shut behind him and Kirk.

---

The funeral was the next day, one of the saddest the
*Enterprise* crew had ever known. Christine left behind many
grieving friends, particularly Nyota Uhura and Leonard
McCoy. Not to mention a bereaved husband of scarcely fifteen
months, along with an infant daughter, barely three and a
half months old.

All wondered what the widowed Spock would do, how he would
raise a daughter by himself. It was either that or send the
child to Vulcan to be raised by her grandparents and request
regular updates on her condition and progress.

McCoy and Kirk had never seen any father so devoted to his
child. They finally deduced that the little girl was the
last link the Vulcan had to the wife he had loved and lost,
so he had no intention of parting with her until he
absolutely had to.

Even so, both of them tactfully (and separately) suggested
that he contact his parents. Kirk would then grant him
bereavement leave so he could get his head and heart
together, as well as devote himself to his small motherless
daughter.

Spock knew it was best that he get away from everything, all
the memories the *Enterprise* held of Christine and their
all-too-brief life together as husband and wife before
healing could begin. It wasn't that Jim and the Doctor
weren't capable of looking after him and T'Mara, but only
Vulcan could reinforce the discipline he needed to regain
control over his grief and guilt.

In addition, his mother would be thrilled to care for T'Mara
-- and as both his friends had said, sometimes it was
necessary to have a change of scene to get one's head and
heart together after a loved one's death. Not to mention the
fact that his parents would see to it that he didn't will
himself to die as a lot of married Vulcans did when they
lost their mates to death. After all, he had a child who
needed him.

It took about ten days before Spock received an answer to
his stargram. Sarek and Amanda expressed their deepest
sympathies at his tragic loss, but pointed out that
Christine would want him to get on with his life. Most
importantly, raise their daughter -- then find a new love
and be happy. They would also welcome him and little T'Mara
for as long as they wanted or needed to stay.

In addition, he had promised Christine he would... and
Vulcans always kept their word. Even so, it was going to be
the hardest thing he'd ever done. The pain of losing her,
their severed bond, was like an open wound in his mind and
heart. He and Christine had truly been "one flesh," as the
Christian Bible so beautifully expressed it.

He did not desire another wife. No one could ever truly
replace Christine or the love they had shared together. For
the time being, however, his Mother would care for T'Mara so
as to free him for other things while on  Vulcan. Jim had
said to take as long as he needed, but Spock knew it was
best for him to "get back into the swing of things," as
Christine had often said. Work was a most effective therapy
for grief.

He wrote back to his parents and told them the stardate and
time of his  arrival, then to prepare his old room for
T'mara. He would use the guest room. Now all that was
necessary was for him to get through the week it would take
for the *Enterprise* to reach Vulcan from their present
location.

---

At this time Uhura was watching a holovid Christine had made
and deposited with the Captain, instructing him to give it
to her friend in the event of her death. In it, Christine
said how much she had treasured their friendship and
appreciated all that she, Uhura, had done for her.
Particularly the times the female physician had unburdened
her heart about Spock. Uhura was also asked to do all she
could for Spock and T'Mara since she was one of the few the
Vulcan trusted around his baby girl.

Uhura's brown eyes filled with tears as she watched,
blurring Chris- tine's image -- so beautiful and healthy, a
stark contrast to the image of  her tragic, premature and
needless death. "Oh God, Chris, why did you have to die?"
the dark woman tearfully demanded of the frozen image on her
view-screen. "It's not fair! You had so much to live for --
a husband who adored you, a beautiful child, a  flourishing
career... I'm going to miss you so much, beloved friend --
and will do my utmost to help Spock and T'Mara. She's so
beautiful,  Chris. The very image of you. You would be so
proud of her!"

---

The night before the *Enterprise* reached Vulcan, Spock
retrieved from his desk drawer the holovid Christine had
given him six weeks after their daughter's birth, leaving
instructions that he was only to watch it in the event of
her death. He inserted it in the PLAY slot of the video
terminal on his personal computer and told it to turn on.
Moments later the heart-wrenchingly beautiful image of
Christine as he had known and loved her appeared.


//Since you are watching this, Spock, we will assume that I
am dead. I hoped I died in the line of duty and that neither
you nor T'mara was harmed, for I love you both more than
life itself. As you know, I loved you for many years before
finally winning you, my darling husband -- but the wait was
worth it. You gave me unbelievable happiness and a love I
never dreamed existed.

I treasured every moment we spent together, my husband...
cherished every caress, every kiss. I have never known a
man's lips to be as sweet as yours -- and the feel of your
body possessing mine whenever we made love ... I have never
felt such complete happiness, such total satisfaction and
fulfillment. You were indeed the missing piece of my life's
puzzle.

I'm sure you remember how happy I was when I discovered I
was pregnant. I prayed for a son who would look just like
you, but don't think I was unaware that you were hoping for
a girl. For that reason, I did my utmost to grant your wish,
and I think I did a bang-up job, if I do say so myself.//


The image laughed, then continued.


//I can only imagine the grief you must be feeling at my
death,  beloved --but remember, to live in the hearts one
leaves behind is to  never die. I will live forever through
you and our daughter. Not to  mention friends like Nyota and
Leonard McCoy, the man I loved as a  father and respected as
a colleague. He helped me in ways I shall  never be able to
repay -- and will always have a special place in my  heart.

Please tell him this for me, for I know he must be grieving
as well. He always did have a heart softer than a crushed
apple, even if he *did* always hide it behind a gruff,
brusque exterior -- just as you always hid your feelings
behind logic.//


Spock found himself smiling despite his sorrow. She always
could read him so well, know his true thoughts and feelings,
no matter how vehemently  he denied them or tried to conceal
them.


//I was very much aware of your close friendship with the
captain. I would have had to have been an idiot not to have
known, especially when you spent more time with him, paid
more attention to him than you ever did to me. I was also
aware that he didn't particularly like my hanging around
you, but as long as he was always a friend to you, that's
what mattered. I didn't care what he thought of me as long
as he treated *you* right.

Of course, I couldn't entirely blame you for preferring his
company, the way I used to chase you. You would think I'd
remember what my mother always said, that men dislike being
chased -- but being me, I forgot every bit of advice she
ever gave when I met you.

I do hope you've forgiven me for my illogical actions, but I
had never known anyone like you. You were so beautiful. so
tall and slender, well-built with silky dark hair (at least
it looked that way!) and such elegant ears. Not to mention
your lovely eyes -- such a soft, velvety brown -- and your
voice which matched them. Then your upswept brows and thick,
dark eyelashes ...as well as your lips, which seemed so very
kissable!

I long ago lost count of how many times I dreamed of you
kissing and caressing me, making love to me -- but the
reality of your love surpassed every fantasy I ever had, not
to mention the depth and strength of our bond...

I never felt such union with anyone, and now realize how
your folks have stayed together so long. Who could ever top
both physical *and* mental intimacy? I truly believe that
Vulcans have discovered the secret to a long and happy
marriage. Too bad you couldn't share it with the rest of the
galaxy...//


Christine's image smiled again.


//Well, I've rambled on long enough. In conclusion, I want
to say this -- never forget that I love you, Spock. I have
always loved you, and I always will. Farewell, my most
precious love. May you have a long and happy life... and be
sure to kiss T'mara for me every night from now on, okay?//


She held up two fingers. He pressed his own to the screen,
then she threw him a kiss as her image faded.


Tears blurred his vision at the so very Human gesture. How
very much he would miss her; how empty his life would be
without her and her love. Thank the gods for T'Mara. She was
the image of her mother, truly Christine as she would have
been had she been born Vulcan.

He had no idea how long he sat, lost in thought and
memories, but the next thing he knew, the intercom was
beeping. He opened it to find Jim on the other end. "Spock,
we've just assumed orbit around Vulcan. Did you want to
contact your parents first or simply beam down with T'Mara
instead?"

"It is necessary to prepare T'Mara first, so I would prefer
to contact them beforehand," he said.

"I could have your mother beam up to help you with the baby
if you like. You did say she's never seen her."

"I would appreciate that. I am... not experienced where
babies are concerned."

"Consider it done, Spock. Talk to you later. Kirk out."

The next voice he heard upon answering his intercom again
was Amanda's. "My son, Captain Kirk said you wanted me to
beam up and help you with T'Mara," Amanda said gently, her
voice painfully reminiscent of Christine.

"Yes, Mother. I -- cannot do it alone," Spock replied
quietly.

"I understand," the older woman said. After a short pause,
she continued. "I'm so sorry about Christine, my son. I
always liked her, and know how you have grieved for her, how
much you loved her -- and how much she loved you."

The Vulcan had such a lump in his throat at the mention of
his lost wife that he didn't trust his voice to admonish his
mother. In addition, she was right and they both knew it.

"Thank you, Mother," he replied carefully. "I will be
expecting you -- and could you tell Father that I will need
to speak privately with him as soon as possible after
beaming down?"

"Of course, Spock. I'll see you in a few minutes."

---

Fifteen minutes later his door buzzer sounded. "Come," Spock
said, unable to bring himself to rise and greet his mother.

"Spock?" Amanda called after stepping inside and away from
the door.

"In here, Mother," came the reply from the work area. Amanda
stepped into the doorway leading to it, both happy and sad
at the sight of her son gazing with a mixture of tenderness
and sorrow at the holograph of a radiant Christine cradling
baby T'Mara a month after her birth.

In that moment she knew that only one person could have
taken that holograph -- Spock himself. For a long time
Amanda simply stood and quietly watched him, hands folded in
front of her. Tears wet her own cheeks even as she wished
she could have gone to her grieving son and gathered him
into her arms as she had when he was a child.

She remembered stroking his silky dark hair and crooning
comforting words to ease his pain -- but that had been much
easier to do when he was small than now. Even so, she was
still his mother and it was her duty to comfort him as best
she could. She walked over to him and tentatively stroked
his hair.

"Spock, I'm here. What did you want me to do?"

Spock moved like a zombie as he reached for his mother's
hand and grasped it like a lifeline. "Mother..." She had
never heard one word so filled with sorrow. All Amanda could
do, however, was hold her son's hand and kiss the top of his
head. She then stroked it with her free hand, resting her
wet cheek there as her own tears dampened it.

If only she could have taken his sorrow and borne it for him
-- but this was something Spock would have to work through
himself. All she could do was try to ease his pain a little.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and squeezed him
as she brushed her lips across the tip of his left ear.

"Oh, my son, I'm so sorry..." The touch of her lips seemed
to bring him back to himself. "Now where is my
granddaughter? It was mean of you to keep her from me," the
older woman teased to lighten the mood -- or at least try 
to.

A ghost of a smile crossed the grimly set lips, lightening
the deep sorrow evident in the dark sad eyes above them. "It
-- is good to see you,  Mother. Thank you for coming. T'Mara
is... in her room."

"And just where is that?" Amanda asked as she gave her son's
shoulder a comforting pat. "I can hardly wait to see her."

"Go through our -- *my* -- bedroom," he quickly amended.
"Her door is on the right-hand side. I would... appreciate
your dressing her and packing her belongings. I have --
already seen to my own." He gestured to three suitcases, two
garment bags and his Vulcan harp in its case. They had been
placed near the entrance to the work area, ready to be
picked up and taken  to the Transporter Room at the
designated time.

"No problem," she smiled. "I'll be glad to." Halfway there
Amanda turned around. "I'd like you to come too, if you
will. I haven't been with you for a long time."

Spock seemed reluctant, but got up and joined his mother in
his daughter's small room. Even so, Amanda suspected that
nothing had been moved or changed since Christine's death.
Her clothing was still in the closet and drawers, her
cosmetics and such in the bathroom. There was even a
lingering scent of rose-musk perfume in the air, as if their
owner had only to walk in the door.

Unusual, when there was usually the scent of exotic incense
which Spock used while meditating. Even so, the older woman
had her doubts as to whether her son has eaten, slept or
even meditated since he had lost his wife.

Spock sat down in the nearby rocking chair as Amanda lifted
the tiny girl from her cradle. "Oh, Spock, she's beautiful!
The image of Christine," the already-doting grandmother
gushed as she soundly kissed the baby. "How old is she now?"

"Four point three-three months," came the reply, so quiet
that Amanda had to strain to catch it. She looked up to see
her son's dark head bowed, sorrow evident in every line of
his body.

"Spock, what happened? With Christine, I mean?" Amanda hated
to make him relive the pain, but he hadn't mentioned
anything other than the basic fact that his wife had died.
No details.

"She was -- infected with Sakuro's Disease," he explained.
"There was... not enough medication aboard ship to cure her.
All we could do was -- make her comfortable. The disease --
ran its course in twenty- nine point-eight solar days, and
she -- died in my arms in Sickbay." His voice lowered with
every word; by the time he finished, Amanda could scarcely
hear him.

"What are you going to do with her things?"

"Keep some, then let her lady friends aboard ship have the
rest."

"Have you told the Captain that?"

There was a barely perceptible nod of his head. "Miss Uhura
will have first choice, then the others will be allowed in.
I have told him to do this after my... departure."

By this time, the small girl had been bathed, changed and
dressed -- then Amanda began packing her things. "I
shouldn't be much longer, Spock,"  she said. "Then we can
beam down and... go from there."

Another barely perceptible nod but no reply. Half an hour
later, Amanda finished. She had filled two suitcases and a
diaper bag. There was also the carrier where T'Mara would be
placed during the trip to the Transporter Room -- and her
antigrav cradle.

"Spock, I'm ready. We can go now."

 He stood up and picked up the small suitcases containing
his daughter's belongings to place them with his own. He
then called two Security  men to assist with the luggage.
They arrived moments later, following Spock and his mother
to the Transporter Room after loading up. Spock carried one
suitcase and his Vulcan harp; Amanda carried the child and
her diaper bag.

Upon arrival they were greeted by Kirk, McCoy and Uhura, all
of whom were off-shift at this point. All others were
discreetly absent, having already said their goodbyes
earlier. "It's good to see you, Amanda," Kirk said somberly.
"In spite of the unfortunate circumstances."

"And you, Jim." She nodded and smiled in his direction.

"Take care of him," Kirk told her, indicating Spock.

"You can count on that," she assured him.

"That goes double for me," McCoy said, coming over to where
the older woman stood with the sleeping child. "This little
princess, too." He leaned down to kiss the baby. "We're
going to miss her. It isn't every day we have a baby on
board ship, even for a little while."

At this point Uhura stepped up. "She's so precious," the
Bantu said, a mother's love in her eyes. "I wish I could
have had one like her. It's been a treat caring for her."

"Thank you for all you've done," Amanda said.

"It was a privilege," the other woman replied. "Now let me
kiss her one last time." Uhura leaned down and copied
McCoy's action, then stroked the tiny girl's silky head.
"Goodbye, sweetheart. You be good for Grandma now... and
never forget that Aunty Nyota loves you."

"It is time to go," Spock said, taking his place on the
transporter platform.

Kirk wanted to embrace his friend one last time, but now all
he could do was salute. (They had said their own private
farewells a few hours beforehand, sharing an embrace for one
of the few times in their friendship.) "All the best,
Spock." Kirk parted his fingers in the traditional salute.
"Keep in touch and let us know how you and T'Mara are
doing."

"If he doesn't, I will," Amanda said before Spock could
reply. He merely raised an eyebrow at her and answered Kirk.

"Live long and prosper, my friend. I will miss you."

"Keep out of trouble now, Spock. That little princess of
yours, too. Doctor's orders!" The Chief Surgeon's voice was
gruff but held an under-lying note of deep affection.

"I will do my best, Doctor." Spock nodded in McCoy's
direction before motioning him closer. "Take care of Jim,
too -- and yourself." The Vulcan spoke so only the Doctor
could hear. "I could not bear to lose him as well ... or
you."

"Thank you, Spock." McCoy's eyes misted over in spite of
himself. "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

McCoy backed away as Uhura moved up to make her goodbyes.
Amanda stopped onto the adjoining pad; the luggage had
already been strategically placed. "Take care of yourself,
Spock. T'Mara, too. I'm going to miss you  both." She
reached to gently squeeze his hand; he gave her a half-smile
and lifted her hand to his lips.

"Thank you, Miss Uhura. Live long and prosper." He then
turned in Kirk's direction; the Captain was manning the
transporter console. "Energize," Spock said.

The closest friends of Spock and Christine somberly watched
the Vulcan and his Human mother dematerialize, his small
motherless daughter in her  arms. Each prayed their grieving
friend would find a new love again some- day -- and possibly
father more children. In the meantime, however, they simply
prayed that he would work through hie grief, eventually
putting it behind him to concentrate on raising his
daughter.

"We'd best get to bed now," the Captain said. "0600 comes
pretty early. I'll see you both in the morning." Kirk smiled
and nodded in their direction before disappearing through
the Transporter Room doors. After a moment, McCoy and Uhura
followed, stepping into the turbolift which would take them
to E Deck and their respective quarters. Each thought their
own private thoughts about what had happened this month and
what would become of Spock now that he was alone again.

---

Bedtime could be any time of the day or night, depending on
the whim of a given individual...particularly a Vulcan
individual, if they considered it logical. In this case, it
was 2300 hours when Amanda tentatively  knocked on her son's
bedroom door after leaving her husband asleep. Spock  and
T'Mara had been planetside for a week now. The infant had
been asleep  for some time, but Amanda was sure that her
son, the child's father, was  not...and if her guess was
right, *had* not.

"Spock?" she called out softly.

"Mother? Do you wish entrance?" Spock's voice held a note
Amanda had not heard since he was small. He sounded as
though he had been...crying!

"Are you all right, my son?" Now she was concerned as well
as curious.

"I am. Is there something you wish to speak with me about?
It is quite late." The voice was tightly controlled now.

"Did you speak privately with your father as you wished?"

"Affirmative. In fact our conversation concluded only
moments ago."

His English had become stilted and formal, something which
happened whenever someone was getting too close to something
Spock didn't want them to know. For someone who didn't know
him well, it was an effective  dodge, but for one such as
her, it was a cry for help. Of course, Spock  would deny it
if asked, just as he had always denied he had any feelings 
or ego to hurt--or any grief at the loss of his wife and the
mother of  his child. And to think that Vulcans claimed they
were incapable of lying ... Amanda smiled knowingly. After
over sixty years of marriage to one,  she was well aware
that that was the biggest lie yet!

"Did it help you?" she asked, getting slightly tired of
talking through  a door. It was much better to talk
face-to-face, but on Vulcan it was a  gross invasion of
privacy to enter someone's private chambers without an 
invitation. Of course, there were exceptions to every rule,
and this was  one of them. Her only child's welfare was at
stake--and he needed her,  whether he admitted it or not, so
Vulcan propriety be damned. Doors were  never locked in a
Vulcan home, so she pressed the button to her right on  the
outside wall. The door slid open and she slipped inside,
stepping away  as it closed behind her. He had not answered
her and she was determined to  find out why.

Even so, she was sure that Spock had heard the door open,
learned of her presence and would order her out...and she
would have to go. But there  was only silence as she
approached the bed where he lay fully clothed,  holding
something to his cheek. Even in the dim light provided by
the  flame-pot, Amanda could see her son's face.

It was wet with tears, and his lips moved silently as he
cradled what looked like a woman's nightgown against his
cheek. Spock hadn't mentioned  Christine since his arrival,
nor would he permit her name to be spoken in  his presence,
even in passing. Amanda had never been a lip-reader, but 
deduced what he must have been whispering...and it had to be
Christine's  nightgown he was holding to his cheek and
crying.

She also detected the same rose-musk perfume scent here as
she had in the shipboard quarters Spock had shared with
Christine. Then she caught a  gleam from out of the corner
of her eye. Light bouncing off a bottle...a  perfume bottle.
Rose-musk perfume. That was when she saw the small heart- 
shaped bottle sitting on his nightstand, the same bottle she
had seen in  the bathroom of the shipboard quarters--on the
counter near the sink. The  holo he had taken of Christine
and T'Mara sat beside the bottle.

He had not come to dinner, assuring her that he would take a
tray to his room, as indeed he had, but she could tell it
hadn't been touched. Spock seemed oblivious of his mother's
presence, not realizing it until  after she sat down beside
him and stroked his silky hair.

"Spock, you've been crying," she observed.

For a time there was no reaction, then he looked up at her
in astonishment. "Mother..." His voice was still husky with
tears. "What are you  doing here?"

"You are my son. This is our family home. What happens under
this roof is no one's business but ours." She touched his
cheek before he could  move to stop her. "Now are you going
to deny that you've been crying? My  hand came away wet with
tears."

"Vulcans do not cry," he maintained.

"Spock, I am your mother. I know you more intimately than
anyone has ever known you, with the possible exception of
your wife. There is nothing  you can hide from me."

The Vulcan raised his head to stare at his mother in
amazement. Her normally gentle voice had become hard and
cold. Perhaps it was a result  of many years among Vulcans,
but still sounded strange coming from her.  In addition, it
was illogical to deny an all-too-obvious fact.

"Very well," he reluctantly admitted. "I have...indeed been
crying. It is--Christine. I can neither eat nor sleep. Every
time I try, every time I...close my eyes, I see--her face as
it was when I...took that holograph of her with--our
daughter." His head bowed as his voice trailed  off again.

Amanda lovingly clasped her son's hand. "Spock, it's going
to take time, but you *will* eventually be able to put your
grief behind you. You  can't see that happening now because
your grief is too fresh, too recent ...but I assure you, it
*will* happen. Time is a great healer, my son. I  would
never lie to you."

"I know," came his quiet reply. "But I am--so empty, so
alone, without her. Our severed bond...is like--an open
wound."

"Of course it is." Amanda's voice was infinitely gentle and
sympathetic. "And it's going to hurt for a long time...but
there will eventually  come a time, perhaps after you return
to the *Enterprise*, that you will  meet someone new and
once again know love."

Spock shook his head. "I will never remarry."

"Yes, you will," his mother countered. "Maybe not this year
or even next--but you *will* eventually remarry."

His jaw tightened stubbornly, reminding Amanda so much of
Sarek that it was uncanny. "You look so like your father
when you do that...but I think even he would agree with me
on this. It is not only unnatural, it  is illogical for a
Vulcan not to have a mate. Remember, there is also  the *pon
farr* to consider." Amanda paused for breath before
continuing.  "There's no talking to you now because you've
got your mind made up--but  mark my words, Spock, you will
be remarried before your next mating cycle."

"Which will not be for another two point-eight years," Spock
pointed out.

"And a lot can happen in two point-eight years," she
reminded him. To his surprise, she then drew him close and
hugged him fiercely. Before he could recover from the shock
of her doing this, she leaned down to kiss  the top of his
head. "One other thing: don't ever forget that there's 
nothing you can't tell me. As far as that goes, I'll
probably know how you  feel, what you're trying to say
anyway." She picked up the untouched food  tray and went to
the door, pausing there momentarily. "Now *do* try to 
sleep, my son. You look exhausted."

"Yes, Mother," Spock replied dutifully. Of course, he
privately doubted  it since he was still too keyed up from
the conversation with his father-- but perhaps if he tried
to meditate...

---

"Come," said Dr. Leonard 'Bones' McCoy to the buzzer at the
door of his office in Sickbay. His brows raised in a very
Vulcan manner upon seeing a troubled James Kirk step
in...for another private talk, most likely.  The two had had
many such talks in the three months Spock had been gone, 
usually after viewing his holovid letters. They had been
coming as regularly as clockwork every week to the day from
the one-month anniversary  of Christine's death.

"What brings you here, Jim?" McCoy asked. "You should be
asleep."

"A doctor to the end," the Captain observed wryly. "As for
what brings me here..." His voice trailed off. "Same old
thing--our mutual friend." Kirk sat down in the offered
chair.

"Saurian brandy?" the Doctor asked.

"Please," Kirk said.

McCoy went into the adjoining room and retrieved his bottle
of Saurian brandy, which he kept in a cabinet there
(strictly for "medicinal purposes", of course). He poured a
glass for himself and Kirk, then carried  both glasses and
the snifter back to where the Captain waited.

"There you go, Jim," McCoy said, handing Kirk a glass before
reseating himself with his own, the bottle on his desk at
his right elbow.

The Captain was convinced that Spock was still mourning his
wife. He carefully avoided any mention of her, concentrating
on the work he was doing at the Science Academy and updates
on little T'Mara, now just over six months old.

"Got another stargram from Amanda?" the Chief Surgeon
wondered.

It was Spock's mother who told them of the time she had
caught Spock cradling one of Christine's shortie nightgowns
against his cheek and crying. Either that or he held it in
his arms as he slept--the only way he  *could* sleep,
according to Amanda. He also kept a rose-musk scent in the 
air of his private rooms, even carrying a perfume-scented
hanky with him  during his days at the Academy, putting it
to his face and inhaling when-  ever he was alone...or so
she deduced.

Of course, Spock always appeared emotionless and dry-eyed
outside of his bedroom--except when with little T'Mara,
which was virtually every moment he wasn't working or
sleeping. Amanda had even caught him holding his  child
close in his arms and tenderly kissing her small head before
pressing his wet cheek to it. She also told them that Spock
had confessed to  seeing Christine every time he closed his
eyes--that the pain of losing  her, their severed bond, was
like an open wound. Most of all, however,  that he had vowed
never to marry again.

This revelation troubled his friends greatly, even though
McCoy had observed that the Vulcan's actions were fairly
typical of a man who has  lost his wife to death. The Doctor
thought it best that the cycle of grief  and healing run its
course. It was the only chance Spock had of returning  to
the *Enterprise* even halfway himself.

Amanda was pleased at the newfound closeness between herself
and her son, reporting that Spock had even had a comforting
and uplifting discussion with Sarek. Kirk marveled at this,
especially when he recalled the  painful 18-year
estrangement between Spock and his father. Not to mention 
the fact that Sarek's treatment of his half-Human son had
been anything  *but* comforting or uplifting. In fact, it
had bordered on emotional  abuse.

McCoy pointed out that Spock's parents would eventually face
this same situation, so the discussion just may have proved
beneficial for them both.  The older man might have actually
gotten some advice from his son for a  change.

"No, I've just been thinking over the last one," Kirk sighed
dubiously. "Bones, do you think he's ever going to get over
her?"

The Doctor shrugged. "I don't know, Jim. Probably not
entirely, especially considering the guilt he's probably
harboring over the way he treated Chris before they fell in
love and married. On the other hand, I *do*  think he'll be
able to put his grief behind him and get on with his life 
as she wanted him to. As Amanda said, time's a great healer.
He may even  remarry someday--and I hope he does. Not only
for T'Mara's sake, but his  own. After all, he needs someone
to love and be loved by, not simply a  mother for his
daughter or someone to help him through the *pon farr*."

It wasn't as though Amanda was betraying any confidences or
telling Kirk and McCoy anything they didn't already know. If
anyone was surprised,  it was Amanda herself. She hadn't
seen Spock so emotional since he was a  child. The Captain
and Doctor had seen him shed tears as an adult several 
times--during the Psi 2000 incident, the mind-control on
Platonius and the  V'Ger affair.

Amanda's so-called 'revelations' were old news to her son's
two closest  friends, but they still welcomed her regular
updates on Spock's condition  (both physical and emotional).
Things he rarely, if ever, mentioned nowadays...at least
about himself.

As for the loss of his older half-brother on the "God"
planet not too long ago, they were unsure if the younger
Vulcan had shed private tears for  his brother or not. It
wouldn't have surprised them if he had, though, considering
what he had said when they had discovered him crying for
V'Ger: "I  weep for V'Ger as I would for a brother..."

One thing they could both be thankful for--Spock was
unlikely to will himself to die now that the critical period
had passed. Hopefully he finally realized that he had to go
on living, if only to immerse himself in work  and the care
of his small daughter. Spock's two friends had no doubts
that  the ordeal would be the hardest thing the Vulcan had
ever faced...but another thing they were certain of--he
would win in the end.

---

Four and a half months after his arrival on Vulcan, Spock
was in his room writing another stargram to his friends.
Coming here had indeed been  of benefit to him, the effort
necessary to maintain an emotionless front to the world
outside his bedroom door had given him a lot of the
emotional  discipline he needed in order to control his
grief. But not even his work  here, his mother, and T'Mara
could replace Jim and the Doctor.

He missed the private talks with Kirk, his smile and
laughter (McCoy's,  too)--not to mention the chess games
with Jim and good-natured arguments  with the Doctor. They
were so right; only by being separated from them  could he
truly realize how much they meant to him. Since Christine's
death  he had become even closer to them, and was immensely
pleased that so far  nothing had happened to them, fervently
hoping that nothing ever would. He  could not have endured
that on top of losing Christine.

He had requested that T'Mara spend time with him in his room
each day. As a result, father and daughter shared many happy
hours alone together.  She would smile and laugh when he
"played" with her; his heart ached with  both love for her
and deep sorrow. There had even been occasions when  Amanda
discovered her son holding his small daughter in his arms,
both of  them sound asleep...other times Spock would sing
T'Mara to sleep, crooning  lullabies from both Vulcan and
Earth while playing on his harp. Occasionally he would even
hold his child and rock her while singing her to sleep.  He
was bonding very well with her.

Her smile was identical to Christine's, as was her nose and
the shape of her mouth. The rest of her features were pure
Vulcan. Her hair had darkened somewhat from the
brownish-blonde it had been the first three months  of her
life; his mother had told him that that was from her side of
the  family, and that it was unlikely to get much darker.
(It was sort of a  honey-golden brown.)

At the moment, the child was sleeping on Spock's bed. He
kept a watchful eye on her, alternating his attention
between the stargram and his  daughter--but moments later he
stopped writing and went over to his bed,  leaning down to
kiss her forehead before getting down on his knees beside 
it.

*My precious child,* he thought as he gazed upon the tiny
sleeping face. *How thankful I am for your existence. You
are one of the few reasons I have left for living since your
mother was taken from me...us.*

He reached a hand to stroke her baby-soft cheek, then her
silky hair before fluffing the pillows behind her and
resting his free hand lightly  on her back.

*It is unfortunate that you will never know her love and
devotion as I have, even though I shall do my utmost to
compensate for her absence. Other  than you, the ability to
show my feelings to those I care about is the  greatest
legacy she could have left to me. I have learned to accept
her  death, but will always mourn her loss--not only for
your sake, but my own.

It will be a relief when you are old enough to speak and
understand conversation. Only then will I be able to speak
of your mother, all we knew and shared. I shall also show
you her holograph, point out how much  you resemble her,
both in looks and actions...as well as relate to you  how
happy she was when you were born. I shall also mind-meld
with you at  the proper time so that we may share a mental
bond as well as the emotional one we now share.*

He wished that the child could have known and understood his
feelings right now, but he would simply have to bide his
time. After kissing her  again, he stood up and returned to
the stargram; moments later there was  a quiet knock on his
door.

"Come in," he said.

Amanda stepped in, a smile on her lips. Spock allowed
himself to return  it.

The older woman noted the stylus and Starfleet stationery on
the desk and quietly commented, ever mindful of the sleeping
child, "Another stargram to the Captain and Doctor?"

"Indeed," her son confirmed. "I have needed the time here
with you and T'Mara, but still miss being with them. We have
shared much together over  the years, and am certain that we
will always remain friends, whatever else  happens in our
lives. No matter how close you and I may be, there are
matters which I can discuss only with them--but that is
simply because they  are men as I am, not because of any
lack of yours. I will always appreciate and never forget all
you have done for me, given me..." His voice  trailed off
and his gaze once again rested on his daughter. "T'Mara,
too."

Amanda touched his cheek and smiled. "You are my son, Spock,
my own dear child. T'Mara is your child--my most cherished
grandchild. I am honored and privileged to have been, and
be, your mother...and grandmother  to T'Mara." She reached
to stroke her son's silky dark hair, prompting  another rare
smile from him and his raising her free hand to his lips to 
kiss it.

"No, it is I who am the fortunate one, to have been granted
a mother such as you."

Amanda bowed her head, smiling even as her cheeks flushed
modestly. "I only wish Christine could be here with us. It
is--incomplete, somehow,  without her."

This time Spock did not reply, merely bowing his head and
closing his eyes, lips grimly set. Amanda was instantly
contrite and said as much. "Oh,  Spock, I'm sorry. I forgot
myself."

He lifted his head with a half-smile. "It is all right. I
can handle it  now."

It was at this point that Sarek quietly approached his son's
room. His original intention had been to inquire after his
granddaughter's well-being  but his sensitive ears couldn't
help but catch the conversation between  Spock and Amanda.
For Spock's sake, he was pleased that mother and son had 
grown closer during the latter's stay, even though a part of
him wished  (even though he knew wishing was illogical) that
he and Spock could have  shared such a relationship. Despite
their differences Sarek had always felt  pride and love for
his son...but could not have admitted it to him, and
probably never would.

Only Amanda knew his true feelings. Hopefully he would do a
better job with his grandchild, not make the mistakes with
her that had alienated his  only son from him. They had had
an enlightening conversation not long after  Spock had first
arrived, but had not spoken privately since--and Sarek 
could not blame Spock for his actions. Oh, he was always
polite and respectful, ever mindful of Sarek's status as his
father, yet they shared little  personal time as father and
son. Spock had loved him once, Amanda had confided...but she
was unsure whether or not he still did.

After all, eighteen years of estrangement had left their
mark on the younger Vulcan--and it was still not entirely
behind them. There were scars  on Spock's heart which she
doubted would ever heal completely...and even if  he had
forgiven his father, he would never forget. Even if Spock
felt anything resembling affection for his father, the last
thing he would do was  admit it to him. One rejection had
been painful enough. The few times Spock  had visited during
the eighteen years, Sarek was sure, was only to see his 
mother--for her sake.

He was also sure that Spock regretted having put her in the
unenviable position of being "in the middle," torn between
love for both husband and  son, but knowing there was
little, if anything, she could do to change  matters between
them. In which case, he would simply have to make the best 
of it...see that their strained, formally polite
relationship did not  deteriorate further. He owed it to his
family--particularly small T'Mara--  to remain on speaking,
if not affectionate, terms with Spock. It was at  this
moment that he spoke to his wife as he stood in the doorway
of their  son's room.

"Amanda," he called quietly. "May I have a word with you, my
wife?"

Her head jerked up in surprise, then she smiled. "Oh yes, of
course, Sarek." She politely excused herself from Spock to
join her husband, automatically lifting her right hand with
the appropriate fingers extended to  cross with his.

"How is T'Mara?" he asked when she reached him.

"Asleep at the moment--and fine otherwise, as far as I can
tell. Anything more, you'd have to ask Spock."

The older Vulcan shot a glance at his son's desk to see the
stylus and Starfleet stationery lying there, deciding to do
something which he hoped  would please Spock: caring for
T'Mara so he could concentrate on finishing  the stargram he
was obviously writing to his Human friends Kirk and McCoy.

"Is Spock writing his friends again?"

Amanda nodded. "But he hasn't been able to finish because
I've been here with him."

"Do you think he would allow us to take charge of T'Mara so
he could finish the stargram?"

"I don't know. Let me ask him."

She again excused herself to return to Spock's side and
quietly speak to him. Sarek noted his son's frown, then
reluctant agreement.

"I can bring her back when you're done, or else you can come
out and bring her back here," Amanda assured him.

This set Spock at ease and he gave permission, even though
he didn't really want T'Mara to go. His parents had a right
to spend time with their  grandchild, and it would indeed
free him to concentrate on the stargram to  Jim and the
Doctor. Be that as it may, he still disliked having his
daughter out of his sight. He remained silent as Amanda
moved to the bed and  picked up the child, who was just
beginning to wake--and left with her a  short time later.
Spock sighed and turned back to the stargram. Well, at 
least this was something else he could talk to his friends
about...

---

It was another month and a half, however, before Spock felt
ready to return to duty. The pain of his loss was still with
him, but over the last  several weeks he had learned to deal
with it. No longer did he cry every  night, though tears
still misted his eyes at the thought of his wife, and  he
still slept with her nightgown in his arms. In addition, the
scent of  Christine's perfume was only in the hanky he
carried; no longer did he  permeate his rooms with it. The
bottle had in fact been relegated to his  bathroom from its
usual spot on the nightstand beside his bed. The only  thing
occupying it now was the holo he had taken of his wife and
daughter  when T'Mara was a month old.

Even so, he would be taking the aforementioned items with
him when  he returned to the ship--though he had told the
Captain to have his former  quarters prepared for his
occupation. Spock had very reluctantly decided  to leave
small T'Mara, now just over nine months old, in the care of
her  grandparents. He could not care for her alone, and even
if he could, regulations still prohibited crewmembers'
children on starships. Of course, if  the rumors he had
heard had any truth to them, that would soon change...and 
he would be able to have her with him aboard ship, but until
then-- Spock  had also admonished his mother to keep him
supplied with holographs of his  daughter and regular
updates on her condition and progress.

Everyone aboard ship was happy to learn that he was
returning to duty. Jim had told him this in his last
stargram. He and his expertise had been  sorely missed,
although they all understood the necessity of his working 
through his grief and guilt first. In fact, many had been
unsure that Spock  would ever return. The *Enterprise* would
pick him up within a week of  being notified of his
intention to return. Even so, his friends aboard ship 
couldn't help wondering at his still questionable emotional
state...but  McCoy had said that that was Spock's own
business, even telling Jim not  to pressure him.

The Vulcan marveled once again at McCoy's perceptiveness,
vowing to show the Doctor how much he appreciated it--if
only in a subtle way. And  he would indeed speak of it as
soon as he felt able...until then it was  good to know that
no one would bother him. Getting back into a regular 
shipboard routine was the best possible therapy for him.
Their next task  after picking him up would be to go to
Starbase 11 and pick up a dozen  new crewmembers.

Spock was presently unaware of the fact that one of them
would be Lieutenant T'Christa D'Amaro, a half-Vulcan woman,
the daughter of a Star-  fleet Admiral, who would be a
junior biochemist in his Sciences Department--and his new
love.

---

James Kirk had never seen a week go by so slowly. He was
frankly ready to climb the wall, so anxious was he to see
Spock again. It seemed forever  before he was told that they
were in orbit around Vulcan. Uhura put in a  call to Spock's
family home; Spock himself answered.

"Ambassador Sarek's residence. This is Spock."

"Mr. Spock, how good it is to hear your voice again. How are
you?" The Communications Chief couldn't hide her pleasure.

"I am well, Miss Uhura. I am also ready to beam up."

Uhura seemed not to hear him. "How is little T'Mara? I have
missed her."

"Healthy and beautiful, thank you." The Vulcan couldn't help
a smile at Uhura's so typically female way of seeming to
ignore his earlier statement in order to ask about his
daughter. "I believe she has missed you as  well."

The dark woman felt her cheeks warm with pleasure. "Thank
you, Mr. Spock. As I said six months ago, it was a privilege
to care for her."

"May I beam up now?" he repeated, making sure he had all his
belongings ready. He allowed himself to smile at his mother,
standing a few feet  away with T'Mara in her arms. (He had
hugged and kissed his child goodbye  in private fifteen
minutes ago...as well as said his private farewells to  his
mother. Sarek had departed for the Science Academy twenty
minutes ago  after making his own farewells.)

"Oh yes, of course," Uhura apologized. "I'll notify the
Transporter Room right away."

---

Kirk gave Chekov the con and notified McCoy that Spock was
due to arrive at any moment. The Chief Surgeon left M'Benga
in charge of Sickbay,  arriving in the Transporter Room at
almost the same time as the Captain-- just as the Vulcan was
stepping off the platform.

"Spock," Kirk said with a smile and salute in his friend's
direction after dismissing the transporter operator. "It's
good to have you back."

"It is good to *be* back, Captain...Jim." In the next
surprising moment, Spock gave his Human friend a warm
embrace. "I am pleased that you have remained well these
last six months, my friend," he said upon releasing Kirk.

He turned to the surprised McCoy. "The same applies to you,
Doctor." He then enfolded his second-best friend in an
affectionate hug, which the  dumbfounded Chief Surgeon
tentatively returned.

"Y-you crazy Vulcan." The Doctor's voice was shaky because
of Spock's unusual (and unexpected) display of emotion.
"You've gone soft on me!"

"Negative, Doctor. I have simply come to the quite logical
conclusion that I should show my appreciation for all that
you and Jim have been to--  and done for--me," came the
coolly dignified reply, reminiscent of the  insufferably
logical Vulcan McCoy remembered.

"I'd like for us to have a good long talk, Spock...as soon
as you're ready, that is," Kirk added upon receiving a
warning look from McCoy.

"Of course," was the agreeable reply as the Vulcan turned to
pick up his luggage. His two friends stepped up to assist,
the three soon reaching  the doors of the Transporter Room.

"Now let's get you settled back in, Mister," Kirk said.
"I've got you scheduled to resume duty at 0600 tomorrow."
The Captain's voice and manner  once again befitted the
commander of the *Enterprise*.

"A most logical course of action, Captain," the newly
returned First Officer replied as the trio headed for a
turbolift which would take them  to E Deck and Spock's
original quarters adjoining Kirk's. [The quarters  he had
shared with his wife and child had been on D Deck.]

---

Three days later, the *Enterprise* arrived at Starbase 11 to
pick up the new crewmembers. By the time Kirk got to the
Transporter Room, one group  had already beamed up and gone
to Sickbay for their preliminary physicals.

He called and told McCoy to report to him upon completion of
the physicals.  According to the Transporter Chief, the new
crew was a conglomeration of  races: predominantly Human,
but there were some Vulcans, Tellarites,  Andorians and
Rigellians thrown in.

Kirk noted that two in the second group were Vulcans--no
doubt ear-marked for positions in Spock's Science
Department. One was male, the other  female. The Captain
greeted the others and sent them on their way, then  turned
toward the Vulcans, fingers positioned in the traditional
salute.

"Welcome aboard the *Enterprise*," he said with a smile.
"I'm Captain James T. Kirk."

"Thank you, Captain. I am Dr. Sokar, astrobiologist. My
companion is T'Christa D'Amaro, exobiologist." The older
Vulcan male jerked his head in the latter's direction upon
returning the salute.

"Hello, Captain," she said, shocking him by smiling and
extending her hand. "I have always wanted to meet you."

Kirk was so flustered that it was all he could do not to
stutter. "Thank you, Lieutenant. I'm sure you and Dr. Sokar
will prove to be welcome additions to my crew."

Kirk couldn't remember ever having felt like this in the
presence of a woman--particularly a Vulcan woman. It wasn't
simply because she was beautiful; he had known many
beautiful women. Beauty didn't always mean honesty  and
integrity. All too often a pretty face concealed duplicity
and evil.  The witch Sylvia on Pyris VII was a prime
example.

Not to mention Spock's former bondmate T'Pring. Her name
called to mind her beautiful face--but it was a cold,
antiseptic type of beauty. That  flint-hearted bitch...how
could she have been so beautiful and yet so treacherous,
two-faced and calculating? Worst of all, she had nearly
gotten him  killed by forcing Spock to fight him while his
friend was deep in the "plak  tow," or blood fever, due to
his first *pon farr*.

And if that wasn't bad enough, Spock had been caused
needless anguish by being made to think that he had killed
his closest friend and commanding officer. Kirk shuddered at
the memory of how close that had come to  literally being
true. If it hadn't been for Bones, he would have been, and 
Spock... He didn't care to even speculate on what the Vulcan
might have  done had he, Kirk, truly been killed.

Kirk truly hoped that T'Christa D'Amaro wasn't another
T'Pring in dis- guise--or anything like that Lt. Valeris
they had had recently. In the meantime, he would keep a
sharp eye on her until she had proved herself.  It would
devastate Spock to have something like that happen again,
particularly when Lt. D'Amaro looked so much like
Christine... That was when it  hit him.     That was what
had rattled him! It was as though Christine had been  reborn
as a Vulcan; T'Christa D'Amaro was the image of Spock's lost
wife.  And if *he* could have this kind of reaction to her,
how would Bones and  Spock feel when they saw her? Spock had
been showing signs of returning to  normal in the few days
he had been back, but T'Christa D'Amaro could easily  knock
him right back to where he had been when he had departed the
*Enterprise* a month after Christine's death. It was
T'Christa who brought him  back to reality.

"Should we not go to Sickbay for our physicals, Captain?"
She flashed another devastating smile and gestured toward
Sokar. "I also want to meet  your second-in-command,
Commander--or is it Captain now?--Spock. He is a  legend
among our people with his extraordinary accomplishments,
particularly his work negotiating the Klingon/Federation
peace treaty."

"Of...of course. Go to Sickbay, by all means," Kirk forced
out. "And don't worry, Lieutenant. I will contact Mr. Spock
and have him come meet  you at the earliest opportunity."

The female Vulcan nodded in Kirk's direction. "Thank you,
Captain. I will be looking forward to it." She and Sokar
disappeared through the Transporter Room doors; Kirk
followed moments later, prompting a funny look from the
Transporter Chief when he all but stumbled out the door. He 
then headed down the corridor to the nearest intercom to
contact Spock.

---

The Vulcan met the Captain at the Sickbay doors. Spock was
ready to go in immediately, but Kirk's hand stopped him.
"Spock, I think I'd better  warn you," he said cryptically.

An upswept eyebrow lifted. "Why?"

"The Vulcan woman..." Kirk began, cut off when Spock's eyes
stabbed right through him. "She--"

"Kindly explain yourself, Jim. Why do you feel it necessary
to 'warn' me about this woman? Is there something unusual
about her?"

"You--could say that." Kirk felt as though his tongue had
been tied in knots. It was all he could do to utter a
coherent syllable, much less an understandable sentence.

"Even so, I am sure I can handle it. After all, I am a
Vulcan."

"But, Spock..." Kirk barely got the words out before
realizing that the  Vulcan was already gone.

*Well, I tried to warn him,* the Captain told himself. *I
can only hope  that it doesn't hit him too hard. Otherwise
we'll be knocked right back to  square one.*

---

Spock was already standing in the doorway of the examination
room. McCoy's back was to him, his body partially hiding one
of the two Vulcans  who had joined the crew. Beyond, he saw
the other, male, Vulcan come out   of the dressing room. He
adjusted the jacket of the newly acquired Fleet  uniform,
only raising his head upon reaching the foot of the bed
where the Chief Surgeon was examining the female Vulcan
whose face Spock couldn't  see.

"Mr. Spock? I am Dr. Sokar, astrobiologist. I have admired
you for some  years and am looking forward to working
closely with you." Sokar raised his  hand in salute, as did
Spock.

"Thank you, Dr. Sokar. I am sure we will work well
together."

McCoy looked up upon hearing Spock's voice. He had been just
as shook up over meeting T'Christa D'Amaro as Jim had been,
stunned at her uncanny  resemblance to Christine. How would
Spock react when he saw her? "Oh,  Spock. Didn't hear you
come in. I see you've already met Dr. Sokar. Just  what I
need, two more Vulcans to drive me crazy. As if one wasn't
enough,"  the Doctor groused, suddenly becoming aware of
Spock's movements so as to  see the female Vulcan on the
diagnostic bed.

"Uh--Spock, I don't think you should..." McCoy's voice
trailed off  as he realized that his warning came a moment
too late. Spock was already standing at the head of the
diagnostic bed, taking in a full view of the  woman both of
his friends had tried to warn him about.

---

Spock now understood Jim and McCoy's warnings. This woman
was a virtual  twin of Christine, the differences minor but
obvious. Her ears were small,  perfectly shaped (and
pointed, of course). Her brows were delicately up-  swept
and gold-flecked brown eyes boasted long, dark and thick
lashes. As  for her lips...suffice it to say that they
defied description.

The Vulcan brought himself up short as he fought an almost
irresistible urge to sweep this beautiful creature who so
resembled his lost wife  into his arms and lock her away
where no one could see her--keep her for  himself alone. She
was definitely *not* going to be good for his peace of mind,
not when she could make him feel like this on such short
acquaintance. Spock found his knees going weak and had to
hang onto the bed to  conceal it from McCoy--but the blood
had also left his face, something he couldn't conceal.

"Spock, you all right? You look pale. I knew we shouldn't
have let you see her without preparing you first." The
Doctor sounded apologetic.

Spock barely heard McCoy's words. He was lost in thought,
marveling at this woman's resemblance to his wife as well as
her name, which could almost have been a Vulcan version of
Christine's. It was as though the gods had taken Christine
away, then returned her in the body of a Vulcan  woman.
Despite his feelings, however, Spock felt disloyal at even
considering someone new when Christine had only been gone
seven point three  months. He frankly wasn't ready to
replace her yet, not with T'Christa D'Amaro or anyone
else--not for a long time to come. If only she hadn't looked
so much like Christine. It would have been so much easier to
resist  her.

It was a long time before Spock found his voice again.
"Illogical, Doctor. She will be working with me, so I have
to meet her eventually-- and it might as well be now."

"Well, if you think you can handle it..."

"I appreciate your concern, Doctor--Jim's, too--but I am a
Vulcan. I will be all right."

McCoy shrugged. "If you say so."

It was at this point that T'Christa opened her eyes and
looked up at Spock. She drank in the sight of deep brown
eyes, gracefully upswept brows, cupid's-bow lips and
beautiful, elegantly pointed ears. She had no idea it was
possible for anyone--particularly one such as her, with her
Vulcan blood--to fall in love at first sight, but it had
apparently happened. He was positively gorgeous!

"Lt. D'Amaro? I am Spock, second-in-command of the
*Enterprise*." His voice sounded inane even to his own ears.
"Captain Kirk said you wished to meet me."

T'Christa felt a shiver run down her spine at his voice,
just as velvety soft and richly masculine as she had ever
imagined it would be. She had had a crush on Spock since she
was a child and he had been the reason she had never been
able to bond with anyone--but never did she dream she would
ever meet the man she so idolized. Could she dare to hope
that she might be affecting *him*, too? No, that was too
presumptuous for words...

In addition, would he judge her unfavorably because of the
shameful actions of the renegade Lt. Valeris which resulted
in the assassination of the Klingon Chancellor Gorkon some
months previously? She hoped he would eventually speak of
it. She needed to assure him that none of it was his
fault--and most importantly, that she was not Valeris. Also,
T'Christa could not bring herself to regret what had
happened to her former friend. Valeris had brought on her
misfortune by her own actions.

Valeris was a disgrace to not only Starfleet but her race,
the pacifistic, logical Vulcans, and her gender...and would
spend the rest of her days in a Federation rehab colony. She
was as dead to her family as if she had never existed. She
and her fellow conspirators (one high up in Starfleet), the
others Gorkon's own Chief of Staff and the Romulan
Ambassador, had nearly caused a war and Spock's friends
Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy had been unjustly imprisoned for
the Chancellor's murder.

Spock had been instrumental in bringing the Federation and
Klingon Empire together for peace talks in the first
place--and no doubt still harbored guilt for having trusted
Valeris when she was unworthy of his trust or high regard.
It wasn't his fault he had been taken in by her clever
facade. Many others had, only finding out her true nature
after they had been ruined, either emotionally, politically
or financially. She had even managed to fool Starfleet
Academy...

Only the actions of a newly-freed Captain Kirk and crew had
set things right again. Thankfully Valeris and her
co-conspirators had been caught before the Federation
President and other important dignitaries could be
harmed--including Vulcan Ambassador Sarek, Spock's own
father.

T'Christa was pleased that the plot to kill those at Camp
Khitomer and keep the Federation and Klingons at each
other's throats had failed. The new Chancellor, Gorkon's
daughter, had been so grateful that she had dropped all
charges against the Captain and Doctor. The conspirators
(with  the exception of General Chang, who had been killed)
had been tried and  court-martialed, losing both rank and
position for their crimes as well as being imprisoned. Thank
goodness justice had prevailed and Gorkon had  not died in
vain...

"That's right," she managed to say, hoping it was the right
thing because she had been so preoccupied. Consequently, she
had no idea that  her smile could have affected Spock as it
had--sending his pulse rate  into orbit, something which
hadn't happened since his marriage to Chris- tine. "And I am
very much looking forward to working with you, Mr. Spock."

Spock was embarrassed to feel blood rushing to his face.
"Thank you, Lieutenant. I am flattered by your high regard
for me."

"I have...held you in high regard since I was a child," she
confessed, deciding not to mention the fact that she had
been unable to bond because  of him. If they became
involved, she could tell him then. No need to burden  him
with such knowledge now.

It was only now that Spock realized how young she really
was. Young enough to have been his daughter had he married
at age 35 as intended--but  strangest of all was the fact
that he didn't care. He wasn't reacting to  her as a
daughter, but as a woman. A very desirable woman. Christine
would  always have a special place in his heart, as befitted
the mother of his  first child--and he treasured their
all-too-brief marriage and life together, but life had to go
on. She would want him to be happy, not mourn  her for the
rest of his life.

Even so, this was not the right time to let T'Christa know
how she was making him feel. The most logical thing to do
was keep a respectful distance...not treat her as anything
more than a colleague, no matter how difficult that might
prove to be. If the way her nearness was making him  feel
right now was any indication, that would prove to be very
difficult, indeed.

"I must return to my work now, Lieutenant. It was--nice
meeting you." He moved to the safety of the door.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Spock," she smiled, once again
making his pulse race. "I hope I...see you again soon."

---

But even as Spock headed back to the Bridge, he could not
get T'Christa D'Amaro off his mind. What was it that made
her so...unforgettable? He was also curious as to why she
had joined Starfleet --and whether or not she had known the
renegade Lt. Valeris.

Valeris, a one-time helmsman for the *Enterprise*, had been
his new protege. He had even been grooming her to step into
his position as Science Officer...but unknown to him, she
had also been part of a plot to kill all the diplomats at
the Khitomer peace conference, including the new Chancellor
Azetbur, the slain Gorkon's daughter--and his own father,
Vulcan Ambassador Sarek.

How could he ever have been so taken in by Valeris? What
could  have so twisted her logical mind that she would be
party to such a monstrous thing? She had even killed
Gorkon's assassins as well as conspired with Admiral
Cartwright, General Chang (Gorkon's chief of staff) and the
Romulan Ambassador.

She had even eavesdropped on Captain Kirk recording his
Personal Log as well as the conversation between himself and
Jim after the secret meeting at Fleet Headquarters. He had
said, "They're dying," referring to the Klingons after the
decimation of their moon and key energy production facility,
Praxis. The Captain had said, "Let them die."

He had wondered where the excerpt from Jim's Personal Log
had come from; now he knew. Not to mention what Lt. Valeris
had said once she had been found out -- "'Let them die,' you
said. Did I misinterpret you?" She could not have known what
had been said otherwise. It came as no surprise that the
Klingons had found Jim and the Doctor guilty with such
damning evidence, even if it was entirely circumstantial, as
their lawyer Colonel Worf had pointed out.

Ironic that the only ones who knew of the plot were
themselves considered criminals, as well as the fact that
the ones who knew where the peace conference was being held
were the very ones who planned to kill everyone there. Spock
had learned the hard way never to trust anyone again unless
they had proven themselves worthy *first*. He would not make
that mistake again. The last time had nearly gotten Jim and
the Doctor killed.

To get back to T'Christa, she acted Human but looked Vulcan.
Was it possible that she was half-Human as he was? That
would explain much, but he had never known a half-Vulcan
woman, so he had no idea how one would act. Perhaps the
gender of their Vulcan parents had been reversed. Maybe it
was her mother who was Vulcan and her father Human... He
would have speculated further but the turbolift had reached
the Bridge. He needed a few moments to compose himself
before he could face Jim and the others.

---

T'Christa first learned of Spock through her father, who had
once been second-in-command on one of the *Enterprise*'s
sister ships, the *Excalibur*. That is, once it had been
rebuilt and new crew chosen after the M-5 incident. She had
never seen pictures of the Vulcan, but Lenardo D'Amaro had
described him in detail. The information had been garnered
from both his own experiences and what he had learned from
those actually  acquainted with the legendary First Officer.

In addition, her mother had been a classmate of Spock's and
had memories of her own to share. She had considered him too
emotional for her  taste, but at the same time, gentle,
polite and reserved--which was why  her sympathies had been
with him when others tormented him about his mixed 
heritage. These qualities had also been part of the reason
she had married  Lenardo D'Amaro, as Sarek had married
Amanda Grayson. She had written down  all her parents had
told her, forming a mental image of what Spock must be 
like. He was also the reason she had studied so diligently
at Starfleet  Academy--hoping she would one day be assigned
to the *Enterprise*.

As she neared the proper age, her parents had had many
"discussions" over whether or not she should bond. Several
likely candidates had even  been met and interviewed, but in
the end were politely rejected...and only  recently had
T'Christa realized why. None were Spock. Strangest of all
was  the fact that she didn't simply want someone *like*
him, she wanted *him* --and even though she intellectually
knew that she was unlikely to ever  meet him, much less
become romantically involved with him, her desire (not  to
mention her feelings) did not change. Rather, they grew with
every passing day.

It hurt to hear of his marriage to a Terran woman, as his
father had, but she could only wish him happiness,
particularly when he and his Human  wife had had a daughter
scarcely a year after their marriage. She hadn't  thought
that possible for a Vulcan until her mother said that there
was a  possibility that Spock's mixed blood had made him an
exception to the rule.

She had also heard of the fiasco with his original bondmate,
T'Pring, who had challenged him at what was to have been
their wedding, rejecting  him for a full-blooded Vulcan and
forcing him to fight Captain Kirk. For  that reason many
years had passed before Spock allowed himself to feel 
anything for a woman beyond friendship or comradeship.

Feeling as she did, T'Christa questioned T'Pring's taste as
well as her sanity. After all, Spock's bloodline was one of
the oldest and most  respected--Sarek was a direct
descendant of Surak, the bringer of peace and logic--and the
family quite well-to-do. In addition, Spock himself had a
considerable inheritance, though she didn't know just what
it  entailed. Then his own accomplishments on top of that...
Perhaps the difference lay in the fact that T'Pring had been
a full-blooded Vulcan and  she herself was half-Human, like
Spock.

---

The beginning of the relationship was similar to the one
with Christine, but in this instance Spock had been
instantly attracted and extremely  hard-pressed to conceal
it. Even so, the last thing he intended to do was  let her
know...until the proper time.

Over time, Spock found that she was almost as tall as he
was...and his first instinct had been right. She was indeed
half-Human. Her father was  Lenardo D'Amaro, a Starfleet
Admiral, and her mother was T'Ayana, a female  Vulcan who
had once been a classmate of his, serving as her husband's
administrative assistant.

Spock wasn't sure what nationality Lenardo D'Amaro
was--Italian, perhaps--but that didn't really matter at this
point. He also learned that  her father had wanted her to
have a Human name, but her mother insisted on  a Vulcan
name...one of the few times she didn't defer to her husband,
as  most Vulcan women did. Of course, when it came right
down to it, who could  understand him and his moods better
than someone who was just like him?

---

After six weeks he started writing his parents about her.
Amanda smiled  to herself upon reading her son's latest
stargram, knowing she had been  right. Spock was falling in
love again, even if it was with a Vulcan version of
Christine. The girl even had the same specialty--exobiology!

She and Sarek had liked Christine immensely, particularly
for her devotion to Spock, not to mention the beautiful
little daughter she had borne him. T'Mara was now over ten
months old and looking more like her  mother every day. As
promised, Amanda kept Spock up-to-date on his daughter,
sending holographs every month.

The latest one Spock kept on his desk in his quarters,
accompanying the one with Christine. He had even found a
wedding picture of himself and Christine when going through
her things after her death, deciding to  keep it as another
memento of their short but happy life together. It sat  on
his desk in his quarters as well. The others went into his
holograph  album. He also kept all the holovids regarding
T'Mara's condition and  progress.

He was now able to sleep without the nightgown, though he
did keep the perfume-scented hanky on his pillow instead of
carrying it. He could meditate as before and had long ago
regained his appetite. He rarely cried any  more, though his
heart still ached at the thought of his lost wife...and 
only occasionally had he found a lump in his throat and
tears misting his  eyes. Perhaps he was finally beginning to
put his grief and guilt behind  him and get on with his
life. He hoped that was the case, anyway.

---

As for T'Christa, things weren't exactly a bed of roses for
her, either. She had tried everything she could think of to
get Spock to notice her, but even after six weeks he still
treated her with nothing but professional courtesy. She was
ready to climb the wall. She wanted to feel his arms around
her, his kisses on her lips... Oh, God! How much  longer
could she stand this?

T'Christa hoped he was not keeping his distance because of
what Valeris had done. She couldn't have stood that, though
she did understand  his hesitation to trust again. Even so,
she had done all she could to  prove herself worthy. If he
didn't know it now, he never would. Worthy  not only of his
trust but his love. She was certain that she could mend 
Spock's broken heart, make him happy again--if he would only
give her  half a chance!

There was one option. She had been told that the Captain and
Dr. McCoy were Spock's closest friends. Perhaps if she spoke
with one of them, he  could talk some sense into him. It
eventually reached the point where she  called on McCoy,
asking to speak privately with him.

The Chief Surgeon was sure that he knew what the attractive
young Vulcan exobiologist wanted to discuss. Spock. He had
noticed the way she'd  looked at him when he'd come to visit
her...like a hungry cat at a mouse.  Spock hadn't exactly
looked unmoved, either. Hell, how could he *not* have  been
affected, with T'Christa a virtual twin of Christine?

His head lifted at the sound of the door buzzer. "Come," he
said, smiling upon seeing T'Christa enter. "Hello,
Lieutenant. What can I do for you?"

"I must speak with you, Doctor," she said urgently, coming
right to the point.

"Of course, my dear. Have a seat." The words were barely out
of McCoy's  mouth before she was seated in the chair
opposite him. "Now what's on your  mind?"

"Spock," she confessed.

"What about him?" McCoy didn't change expression.

"I--believe I am in love with him."

McCoy had to smile. Who said history didn't repeat itself?
He had been through a scene very similar to this not long
after Chris had joined the  crew. She had also confessed her
love for the Vulcan and asked his advice.  Now he was going
to give T'Christa D'Amaro the same advice.

"I see. Well, the best thing to do is not pressure him.
Aggressiveness drives him further away."

"Doctor, is something wrong with me? Am I so unattractive
that Spock wants nothing to do with me beyond a professional
relationship? I have done all I possibly can to prove myself
worthy, in an attempt to make up  for Valeris' shameful
behavior. Do you think he might be hesitant to trust  me
because of that?"

McCoy nodded thoughtfully. "That could have something to do
with it, but there's more to it than that. Spock recently
lost his wife, and it's  taking longer than usual for him to
put his grief behind him. Because of  that, he's still not
ready for a new love. Friendship is all he can handle  at
the moment. Anything more at this point scares the hell out
of him."

"But how can I be just his friend, feeling as I do about
him?"

The Doctor reached to rest a comforting hand over
T'Christa's clasped ones resting on his desk. "Love is never
easy, dear, especially when one  is in love with a
Vulcan...or a Vulcan in love. Too bad you can't sit down 
and talk with the other women who have loved him, especially
Christine."

"Christine?" T'Christa's brows shot up.

"His wife. She loved him for years, but Spock hardly gave
her the time of day until about 18 months ago. That was when
he seemed to have a complete change of heart toward her. Not
long after that, he bonded with and  married her. They had a
child, a beautiful little daughter, but Christine  died when
she was just three and a half months old. Some kind of rare 
disease we were unable to treat.

"It hit Spock hard to lose her so soon. As a result, he left
the ship a month after her death, taking their daughter with
him, and went home to  Vulcan for six months to get his head
and heart together. He had only been  back a few days when
you came aboard. All this on top of that murder and 
conspiracy business. He's having a hard time dealing with it
all. Give him  time."

"I--am told that you are a close friend of his."

"That's right, though the Captain is closer to him than I
am. Why?"

"Do you think you could speak with him, see if you could
find out whether or not he has any...feelings for me?"

McCoy sighed. "He's pretty tight-lipped, especially about
his personal life or private feelings. In addition, he
rarely--if ever--listens to me ...but I suppose I could
try."

"Would you? I would appreciate it." There was such pleading
in the gold-flecked brown eyes that McCoy was unable to
refuse her. Even so, he  was dubious about the possibility
of learning anything which could be useful to a girl in
love.

"I can't make any guarantees," the Doctor warned. "It's
usually like pulling teeth to get Spock to talk about
anything personal, being that he's Vulcan."

"I am Vulcan, and I do." T'Christa was almost indignant.

"You are also female. Men are usually taught to hide their
feelings, Vulcan or not. In addition, a man in Spock's
position, with a motherless  child to consider, doesn't
think of a woman as simply a mate for himself.  He's looking
for a second mother for his child. I also believe he would
like to find someone as much like Christine as possible."

"But I am not Christine, however much I may look or act like
her."

McCoy chuckled. "Of course, knowing Spock, it'll take a
while for that to sink in. You'll just have to bear with
him."

T'Christa became almost wistful at the thought of little
T'Mara, Spock's child. "I am sure I would be a good mother
to his little girl, as well as a good wife to him--if he
would only give me a chance!"

"As I said earlier, my dear, give him time. I know it's
difficult, but it's the only way to get him...and I know you
want to."

---

Spock's feelings for T'Christa eventually became such that
he was obliged to contact Kirk and arrange a private meeting
with him. Kirk was only too glad to comply, willing to help
his Vulcan friend in any way he could. Being Human, he had
suspected all along that Spock was again falling in love,
but was unwilling to admit it because he considered it
disloyal to Christine. The meeting was to take place in the
Vulcan's quarters; the Captain showed up at 2230 hours.
Spock was sitting on his bed waiting in the sleeping alcove
when his Human friend arrived.

"Spock?"

"In here, Jim," came the reply.

"I'm here as you requested. "What do you need to talk
about?"

"I think you already know." The Vulcan's voice was quiet,
his statement evasive as his dark head bowed in
embarrassment. However, Kirk was  silent, so Spock was
forced to explain himself. "It--concerns the...new woman in
my life."

Kirk nodded and sat down beside the Vulcan on his bed. "I
assume you mean T'Christa D'Amaro. She's half-Vulcan too,
right?"

Spock responded with a barely noticeable nod.

"Did she know Lt. Valeris in any way?"

"They were friends--but T'Christa is appalled by Valeris'
actions."

"What else concerns you about her, Spock?"

"Jim, I--believe...I am--in love with her."

Kirk wasn't at all surprised. "I see." For a long time
neither spoke, then the Captain broke the silence. "But--?"

"I feel...that I am--being disloyal to Christine."

Kirk smiled and nodded understandingly. "Of course you do.
She was your wife, the mother of your child. That's
natural--but at the same time,  it would be illogical to
mourn her for the rest of your life when you have  been
offered a second chance for happiness. Second chances are
rare in  life. Don't let this one pass you by. Which reminds
me...does T'Christa  know how you feel about her?"

"No, she does not."

"Then I suggest you contact her. That is, as soon as you
find out how she feels about you."

"I believe--I already know. She has...demonstrated evidence
of-- romantic feelings for me on several occasions."

"In that case, you're halfway home. Go for it."

"Go for it?" Spock frowned uncomprehendingly.

"Go to her. Tell her." Kirk smiled, prompting an
all-too-rare response in kind from his alien friend.

"I believe I will. Thank you, Jim."

"That's what friends are for."

Then the two did something they had rarely done up to this
point... they embraced.

---

The following evening the Doctor came to Spock's quarters,
steeling himself for the higher temperature before pressing
the door buzzer.

"Come," Spock said.

McCoy entered to find the Vulcan sitting cross-legged on his
bed in  a soft, cream-colored robe playing his Vulcan harp.

"Dr. McCoy," Spock acknowledged. "Won't you sit down?"

"Thank you." McCoy came into the sleeping alcove and seated
himself on the bed. "Spock, I need to talk to you."

"About what?"

"T'Christa D'Amaro."

It was all Spock could do to keep an impassive face. "What
about her?" For once coolness came hard.

"Spock, that girl's in love with you. It's as plain as the
nose on your face."

"I am--aware of her feelings, Doctor."

"What are you going to do about it?"

Spock sighed and set his harp aside, folding his hands in
his lap.  "I can do...nothing at the moment. I am--not ready
for a new romance... or a new marriage."

The tone of the Vulcan's voice prompted the Doctor to place
a comforting hand on his shoulder and speak as gently as he
could. "Have you  told her this?" Even as McCoy asked the
question he knew the answer, but  asked anyway.

"I have been--unable to do so," Spock quietly confessed.

"Why? Do you have feelings for her, too?"

A long, awkward silence passed between them, a silence thick
enough to cut, before Spock spoke again. "Doctor, do you
really think my feelings  are any concern of yours? Whether
you realize it or not, you are coming  very close to
invading my privacy."

"Of course they're my concern. I care about you as much as
Jim does. I just show it differently." The Chief Surgeon
sighed and continued. "But  I'm not only here on your
account. T'Christa asked me to find out whether  or not you
had any feelings for her. She's as proudly Vulcan as you
are,  so the last thing she would do is broadcast her
feelings--particularly not  to you--except as a last resort.
You Vulcans are so damn close-mouthed that  you need help
whenever it becomes necessary to express your feelings. I 
assume you've already talked with Jim?"

Spock nodded.

"In that case, I suppose I'm out of line just being here,
much less talking to you like this--but T'Christa was
reluctant to approach Jim. I  was more accessible to
her...not to mention the fact that she heard I was also a
friend of yours. Don't worry, I'm not asking for the gory
details.  All I want is a simple yes or no."

"Yes," Spock finally said, voice barely audible.

"Then for God's sake, tell her! She thinks you can't stand
her, that you're judging her because of Valeris' actions."

Spock frowned. "That is preposterous. As for the other
matter, I... regret hurting her, but as I said, I am
not--ready for another romance or  marriage."

"Hell's fire, Spock, who's talking about marriage? There's
plenty of time for that later. For now, just talk and get to
know each other as you  did with Christine. *Then* perhaps
have a romance." McCoy knew he was walking on dangerous
ground talking like this to Spock. On the other hand, even 
if Spock didn't consider him as much of a friend as he did
Jim, he was  still a doctor and logically, the Vulcan would
know that he could trust him  because of his medical oath of
confidentiality.

The Vulcan gave the Doctor a hard look.

"Only if you really want to, that is. I'm not prescribing or
ordering it. It's your life, your decision--but I *do* want
to go on record as believing that it would be the best
possible course of action for both of  you."

The First Officer gave his second-best friend a half-smile
and nodded. "I will keep that in mind, Doctor."

---

Barely an hour later another visitor pressed Spock's door
buzzer. It was late, nearly 2400, and he had planned to
meditate for an hour before  retiring--but that was out of
the question now. Especially since he had  been thinking so
strongly of going to T'Christa's quarters to speak privately
with her (and perhaps more), that the hour had passed before
Spock  realized it.

The buzzer sounded twice before registering in the Vulcan's
computer-like brain. "Come," he said; the door swished open.

T'Christa D'Amaro stepped in, dressed in a long, blue opaque
gown which both revealed and concealed her curves. Her long,
dark hair was loose, cascading down her back in multitudes
of waves. Most surprising of all, however, was the fact that
she had an overnight bag in her hand.

"Spock, I need to see you," she said. "There is something
very important I must discuss with you."

T'Christa's heart pounded as she entered, her knees wobbly
and her face flushed. She was taking a chance by coming to
Spock's quarters uninvited, particularly carrying an
overnight bag. How presumptuous could one get? She could
just imagine how her mother would react if she could     see
her now. She would be considered nothing less than brazen,
shameless,  indecent. Vulcans never showed their emotions so
openly except in privacy --and then, only to their mates.

Of course, if what Dr. McCoy told her was true, Spock just
might be inclined to overlook her behavior instead of
lecture her, then throw her  out. She had always believed in
going after what--and who--she wanted,  like her
father...much to her mother's distress. In addition, she
could  have waited forever if she'd waited for Spock to make
the first move, especially considering what he'd been
through the past several months.

She had already waited over half her life for him; she
intended to allow no further delays. If he felt as most
Vulcan males did, he would not make the first move
anyway...and the last thing he would ever admit was that he
was even attracted to her, much less in love with her. She
had to find out once and for all just where she stood with
Spock, even if it was the last thing she ever did.

He gestured to her to join him. "And what may that be?"

She joined him in the sleeping alcove. "You. Me. Us," she
stated simply.

The Vulcan's heart began pounding even faster than usual. If
T'Christa had been difficult to resist before, it was all
but impossible to resist  her now. Particularly with the
musky perfume she wore, one of the few  things about her
that *wasn't* identical to Christine. Christine's perfume 
had been both sensual and romantic. T'Christa's was just
plain sensual...

Hot blood rushed into Spock's cheeks at the thought of her
nearness; he was thankful his loose robe concealed his
growing arousal. Of course,  how long he could conceal it
was a matter for debate, especially if she  moved any closer
to him. Even now she was within reach, and both his Vulcan
and Human halves cried out for union with her.

*Forgive me, Christine,* he told the image in his heart's
eye. *But  I have been without you, without love, for so
long. I...need the mental as well as physical union
T'Christa can provide. You have taught me that  there is no
shame in loving someone or admitting it--so I intend to do 
just that, in order to take advantage of the second chance
at love which  has been offered to me.*

"What a coincidence. That is exactly what I wish to speak
with *you* about."

T'Christa's eyes widened. "Spock, are you saying that
you--?"

"I am."

Spock was somehow not surprised by the fact that he was not
at all embarrassed. The time had come for he and T'Christa
to come together, but  no words could adequately convey what
he was feeling for her. This was one  of the times that
actions spoke louder than words. Spock moved closer to 
T'Christa and lifted her face to his, then bent his head to
gently, tentatively, kiss her. Her lips became hungry and
demanding, unwilling to relinquish his. She locked her arms
around his neck and pressed close to him.

"Spock..."

"T'Christa..." Her name came out as a moan as her fingers
lightly stroked the back of his neck, inflaming his passion
as wood feeds a fire. A moment later, his hands found their
way to the shoulder ties of her  dress and loosened them.

---

Hours later the lovers came back to earth, snuggled close in
each other's arms. "Spock, you are a marvelous lover. Please
say that we will  be together always." T'Christa's head was
cradled on his shoulder.

"We will be together as long as you wish it." His words were
muffled in her fragrant hair.

"Forever. Say it will be forever!" She looked up at him,
their eyes meeting with tender passion.

"I have already said it--and you know something else?" His
lips moved to nuzzle her ear.

"What?" The warmth of his breath sent shivers down her
spine.

"Mother told me this would happen--but I did not...believe
her."

To his surprise, he heard T'Christa laugh. It reminded him
of little tinkling bells, but it was something he would not
hear outside of their  private quarters. "That just goes to
show that you should have listened  to your mother. Now kiss
me goodnight and go to sleep. We need it after  the night we
just had!"

Within half an hour both lovers were deeply asleep.

---

Somehow the two awakened early, around 0515, dressing when
0530 rolled around and leaving his quarters for their duty
shifts at 0550 after a lingering kiss and the bonding
ritual. They had sat on his bed, Spock's  hand on her face
in the mind-link position. Gentle pressure and intense 
concentration soon brought the couple into mind-contact.

*T'Christa, my 'ainama aisha' (beautiful love),* Spock's
mind spoke. *Are you certain that you are ready for this?
Remember, once we are bonded, it will not be broken by
anything but death.*

*Spock, I have waited all my life for this,* T'Christa's
mental voice replied, lovingly embracing his consciousness
and drawing it into her own  mind. *Please don't make me
wait any longer.*

*In that case...* He took a deep breath before dropping his
shields and allowing her into his mind--soon feeling a
warmth and tenderness he  had not known since his joining
with Christine. *Never and always touching and touched. I,
Spock, pledge my life and love to thee, T'Christa.*

"As I, T'Christa, pledge my life and love to thee, Spock.*

*Our minds, our hearts, are one...as our very lives shall be
as one. I will cherish thee with every fiber of my being
from this day forward-- as I will any children we may have.*

*Just as I will always cherish thee and our children,* her
mind responded.

*Finally, it is my wish that the feelings we share remain as
perpetual as the Vulcan sun for as long as we both shall
live.*

Once the link was broken, the pair shared another kiss and
then held each other for a time. Spock enjoyed having a
warm, loving woman in his  arms once again after so many
months without one. He wished more than anything that he
could have told T'Christa how wonderful their night together 
had been and how much he had come to love her.

*You already have,* she assured him through their bond. *And
let me assure you, the feeling is very mutual. Now let us
get to our stations before they come looking for us.*

He escorted her to her station in Life Sciences after
stopping briefly at her quarters to drop off her overnight
bag. The couple surreptitiously  crossed fingers before
separating. Spock had to force himself not to smile  when he
reached the Bridge. The world was so beautiful today; he was
so  happy--or as his friends would have said, simply totally
and completely in  love again. He hadn't felt like this
since his marriage to Christine.

James Kirk's sandy-brown head lifted as the Vulcan's
familiar shadow crossed the arm of his chair. "Good morning,
Spock," the Captain said pleasantly. "Hey, you look more
rested and relaxed than I think I've ever seen  you. What
happened?"

*Love,* Spock couldn't help thinking, barely able to keep
from saying it. As it was, he was unable to suppress a
Christmas-morning smile, which  Kirk's sharp eyes didn't
miss.

"That smile can mean only one thing. You and T'Christa have
gotten together." Kirk's voice was only loud enough for
Spock to hear.

"Yes," the Vulcan admitted shyly, a tinge of green in his
cheeks and at the points of his ears.

Kirk smiled. "About time, too. Have you bonded with her?"

Spock nodded.

"So when's the big day?"

"We...have not yet discussed it," was the quiet reply.

"What the hell. That doesn't matter right now anyway. Now
that you've gotten together, it's only a matter of time."
Kirk briefly, affectionately,  squeezed the hand which lay
on the arm of his chair. "Congratulations, my  friend. I
wish you both every happiness."

"Thank you, Jim."

The Vulcan smiled for his friend alone, then excused
himself to report to his Science station. Once there, he
immersed himself in work, at the  same time basking in the
warmth of T'Christa's love. T'Christa, his new  bondmate and
future second wife. He was sure that even Christine, in the 
Heaven where she surely was, would have approved of his
choice. And to  think that the happiness he now enjoyed was
due to following his friends'  advice... He would have to do
so more often in the future, although he  would never
publicly acknowledge or admit that he had done so.

There were some who would feel that he was jumping into
another marriage far too soon after Christine's death, but
they could think what they  liked. His private life was no
one's business but his own. In addition, he  and Jim had
again spoken privately, the two finally agreeing that when
one  had had a happy, fulfilling romantic relationship, it
was only natural to  want another--particularly when they
had become accustomed to it.

He had no idea how he could have spent so many years alone
or ever treated Christine as he had. Of course, he had done
all he could to make amends to her after they married. Even
so, it was not enough. No amount of compensation would have
been enough...but he could do no more for her now except to
see that T'Mara was raised as Christine wished.

Lastly, he was truly fortunate to not only have found true
love once,  but twice. Christine, his first love, who had
given him a beautiful daughter. T'Christa, his last love,
who had given him happiness he had not known  since his time
with Christine--and who would surely give him more beautiful 
children. But they had to be married first...and as far as
he was concerned, the sooner that happened, the better.

---

The End