The BLTS Archive- Wedding Vows
by Kerry (mail@erinblackwell.com)

---

Beta-Reader: Jenny (and a big thank you to Marla for her help with the
discussion scene in the Saavik section.)

Notes: Ashau nash-veh tu means "I love you" and Buk means "Destiny"
according to the Vulcan Language Institute site. Which is interesting
since I didn't think Vulcans had a word for love.

Disclaimer: Star Trek is copyrighted by Paramount/Viacom. "Vulcan's
Heart" belongs to Josepha Sherman and Susan Shwartz and copyrighted by
Pocketbooks. "Just a Little Training Cruise" was written by A.C.
Crispin. Saavik's secret name, what was called a self-name, came from
the fanfic story "Something Great and Mighty" by J. Richard Laredo in
the fanzine "Abode of Strife 11".

---
SPOCK
---

The bright sunlight struck his eyes, making him squint hard and throw
a hand in front of his face.  The corridor might have been shadowy,
but not compared to his and Saavik's room behind the blank white door
at his back. Inside there, it was soothing darkness with only warm
light from the firepot and recessed illumination.  His eyes hadn't
seen sunlight in days.

He was so *aware* of Saavik next to him, not noticing her straining to
see in the glare or the exhaustion written on her face.  Seeing
instead the body lines hidden from view, the sable hair cascading past
her shoulders, a silken lock tucked behind an ear reminding him of the
graceful curve of a verren's shell, just as it had decades ago when
her effect on him first made itself felt.

That was before he made himself stop thinking such things, believing
the feelings they represented would never be returned or returned out
of a sense of debt, possibly even endangering the friendship he made
all efforts to keep with her.  So odd to remember that lonely decision
with her here, preparing to make the journey with him into marriage,
her traditional silver gown shimmering in the sun until she appeared a
mirage caused by the heat.  So tempting to take her back to that dark
room behind its bare white door and prove she was most solidly there
with him, and not something that might disappear.

McCoy's voice breaking into this delicious thought was a blast of cold
ice down his spine. "Spock, my friend, don't even *think* of trying to
get your room deposit back!"

The suggestion meant nothing until his fevered brain brought back what
McCoy had seen.  Ah, yes, the damage.  The smashed and overturned
furniture -- linens and bedding strewn about -- no one ever said the
early days of pon farr were a genteel thing, especially a pon farr as
long denied as this one.

Saavik glanced at him now in a mixture of chiding and wickedness.  He
ignored that it was a reminder she had argued against letting McCoy
into the room, claiming its state would make the man uncomfortable.
All Spock saw in the playful eyes was a reminder that pon farr was not
gone, only temporarily sated, leaving them enough sanity to attempt
the wedding ceremony.

Enough sanity to calculate again such important things as how many
steps it would take to snatch his mate back to their room -- even as
they continued moving away from it, across the Medical Center's
grounds with its courtyard and carefully raked sand garden, reaching
the open bronzed gates--

McCoy clapped his hands loudly together, and rubbed them briskly with
his eagerness.  "Now then, time's awastin'!  And we got a long and --
I point out -- *hot* journey ahead of us."

-- enough to calculate how swiftly he could render McCoy unconscious
before snatching his mate away--

But then, that was why betrothed couples were always escorted to
Koon-ut-kal-if-fee, especially once females began entering pon farr
themselves.  Escorts made sure couples showed up for the ceremony, and
didn't run off to dark rooms and firepots and--

He needed to focus.  Now that he could focus again.

That thought, strictly speaking, was inaccurate.  Both Saavik and he
had clear moments -- brief though they were -- in the past few days.
One such moment led to the only time he saw her enraged over his
decisions in Ki Baratan and their bed being overturned and--

*I must focus*.  Especially as McCoy looked at them oddly and suddenly
cleared his throat.

"Uh, look you two, I just wanted to say that I'm really happy for you
both.  I know what this day means, even if you've never said it, and I
just... uh-- I just -- oh hell."

"Why, Doctor," Saavik drawled, "are you becoming sentimental?"

And McCoy, being McCoy, suddenly snapped, good humor gone. "You know
what?  Screw you both!  I don't need this, standing here in this
hotter than hell cooking pot you call a homeworld! But I'll just have
you know one thing, Miss, before I leave!  Do you know why I was on my
way to this blazing planet to begin with?  For your funeral!  That's
right!  They thought you were a goner, and I headed out here on the
first ship, or I never would have made it on time to see the Bride of
Satan and her mate get hitched!"

Saavik spoke in honest surprise. "You would come to my funeral,
Doctor?"

"Well of course I would come!  I'm here, aren't I?  How many goddamned
years of me hanging around is going to take before you finally get it
that... You know what?  Forget it.  I'm going.  Good luck to you both,
happy wedding, you deserve each other.  Bon voyage to me."

Spock sprang after the retreating figure.  He moved rapidly when he
wanted to and Saavik was even faster.  He clasped his old friend's
right hand in his as he had once clasped Jim Kirk's after returning
from melding with V'Ger.  Saavik did the same on the opposite side,
except she threaded her fingers into McCoy's.  They stood there, the
three of them, Spock pleased to see his bondmate so intensely
respecting the doctor's friendship as he did.

McCoy gave something suspiciously close to a sniffle as he --
reluctantly? -- pulled his hands away. "All right, all right.  It's
hotter standing between the two of you than it must be on the sun.
Besides, we have places to be." He coughed, attempting a laugh.
"Anyway, Spock, getting in the way between you and the wife -- or
wife-to-be, whatever you prefer -- probably isn't the best idea, is
it?"

Saavik locked eyes again with her betrothed, and Spock saw that impish
glimmer again.  He rejoiced in how she shared such things with him and
how quickly he read her silent signals.

She laid her hand on McCoy's shoulder and took a step closer, speaking
in deep tones to Spock, "He is in between us, my husband."

McCoy's eyes grew wide, startled, and he slapped her hand away.
"Dammit, Saavik, get off!  Do you want him to kill me?"

Spock appropriately narrowed his eyes. "Doctor..."

"What? Wait a minute-- All right, moment's over.  Ha ha, you had your
fun." He moved a few paces away before turning back, smiling quietly.
"I love you both, you know."

They knew, and the deep regard was very much mutual.

Spock found when he concentrated, he was able to do more than just
leave that room behind--

-- and think of Saavik and the gleam in her eye, a gleam she had given
him when she found he had been jealous of Dralath and the voice she
had used with him. *Of Dralath, Spock? Dralath!*  She had drawn
closer, whispering in his ear so her breath stroked him. *I think we
have learned something necessary to our marriage.  If we want
something, simply ask for it.  If you want me to use that same voice
on you*--

The point was, he sternly reminded himself, he found he now clearly
saw his surroundings and was aware of the impact of McCoy's words. "In
that same vein, Doctor, take this next gesture in the way it is
meant."  He indicated the vehicle pulling up. "Use the groundcar."

"Did you think I would argue?  Hardly!"  The elderly doctor started
slipping into the cooled interior and just as rapidly popped back out,
the speed with which he did it belying his usual complaints about his
aging knees. "Hold it a minute, you two *are* following, right? People
are waiting for you, Spock, and my job is to get you there.  Don't
make me hose you two down--"

"We are following, Doctor." He pointed towards Sarek and the others in
the wedding party who were en route to them. "Someone else is now
taking over your job."

"All right then."  McCoy clapped Spock on the arm and quickly kissed
Saavik's cheek. The sudden gesture made her flush a pale bronze green.
"Ha!  Got you to blush.  Took me thirty years since the last time.  I
am having a good day."  He winked, managing to make it fit his serious
parting words. "And I am happy for you two."

The car whisked him away just as Sarek and the others whisked them
quite firmly towards their waiting guests. Spock noticed someone
always kept between he and Saavik.  To his amazement, he no longer
resented it.  The impatience of the Fires eased into the delight of
anticipation. They would be alone together soon enough, this time with
the chance to savor and explore each other instead of simply
surrendering to their keenly hurried mating drives.  They had just
started to enjoy each other since the last break of sanity -- when
their wedding date was set.

He tried to remember today's date, but his time sense, so long
disrupted, failed to provide what day it was.  He should have asked
McCoy.

He also discovered he anticipated the ceremony before them.  It was
the last step towards making Saavik his.  *His*.  Their bonding pulsed
with life like an individual heartbeat, thriving so heartily from
their days of being joined mind, heart, and body.  He found another
thought even more heady.  He would be *hers*; this amazing woman chose
him.  *Would* choose him when the moment came in the ceremony where
she either accepted him or named a challenger.  He resented the
jealousy the Time of Mating brought.. It robbed him of his usual
confidence of his place in her life.  *She* felt no such uncertainty;
save for the one question she had asked him, that one argument that
led to their bed being flipped over and--

*Focus*! he reprimanded himself.  They were in public after all.

T'Selis was instructing Saavik on what was expected of her, and a
problem arose over the order of 'properly keeping your eyes downcast'.
The fiercely independent Saavik gave the directive and its giver a
scathing glance, and Spock thought the whole wedding would be delayed
indefinitely until she told him mockingly, "It is for ceremony only,
Spock.  Do not grow used to it."

"I would not want to," he replied, one eyebrow raised.

A divan chair approached carrying a shrouded figure.  Not McCoy to be
sure, even though the doctor must have traveled the last part of the
journey in this manner, tradition forbidding modern vehicles on the
ancient lands.  No, T'Lar was arriving and to confirm it, the official
attendants shook their systra, the banners made up of rows of tiny
bells, announcing to the waiting guests that the wedding party was
about to make its entrance.

Saavik unexpectedly glanced at him at the thought of being parted...

*Parted and never parted.*

--even for such a short period as this when they were one being --
*heart, body, mind*, he echoed -- during their pon farr.  The
attendants stepped between them, indicating it was time to go, and
Sarek stared at him significantly.  He walked backwards hesitantly,
eyes fixed to hers--

...*Saavik--* He thought he heard her mind whisper his name back
through the bond.

*--Avra'ch'laba*-- he called her self-name.

She mouthed his in return, and he watched in fascination as her lips
parted to form the syllables.

He drew his shoulders back.  Only one way to keep the time apart as
short as possible.  He continued backing up until he reached the
perimeter of the first semi-circle of dark, weathered rock, then swung
around purposefully, striding across the plateau gazing at no one as
he passed into the second semi-circle.  He went straight for the
center pillar and powerfully struck the ritual, jadeite gong. Its deep
resonance spread like a wave, the vibrations passing through him and
out across his ancestral lands--  The ancestral lands held by his
family for millennia.

All of a sudden, the gong, the primeval stone circles, and the ritual
became more than a way to summon Saavik back to his side as swiftly as
possible.  Suddenly, he sensed all the men in his family who had stood
in this same spot on this same land, striking a gong just like this
one for the same reason.

*This is the Vulcan heart, this is the Vulcan soul*.

T'Pau's past words to James Kirk.  Put aside the modern cut to his
deep-red robes, his logic, and the centuries of civilization, and see
instead the jewels marking his ancient House, the primordial instinct
rising in his soul and heart passed to him from all the ones who came
before.  Sarek once stood here and waited for Amanda.  His
grandfather, Skon, had stood where Spock's feet were now, the gong's
reverberations passing through him and out on the land just as *his*
father, Solkar, had stood and waited for his wife.  Spock's mind went
rapidly through the names, his clarity recalling each one to the very
first who won this land in PreReform times.  He was tied to them,
those men who had signaled to their heart's mate *Come to me--*

*As it was in the beginning--*

The words T'Lar would say and he finally understood their
significance.  From across the millennia to him, the men of his family
called through the bloodline. How fortunate he had these past days to
satiate the pon farr so this moment was not lost to its fever, so he
may feel the moment for what it was.

The systra signaled that the bridal party approached.  First T'Lar,
then his father, and Spock looked at Sarek in a new light and thought
something in the return gaze showed his father realized the same
moment.  Or perhaps he just remembered when he had stood in Spock's
place and Amanda was the heart's mate the gong sounded for.

Then T'Selis followed by Frances Stewart of the *Enterprise*-C, women
to whom he owed Saavik's life and therefore his own.  But now he was
impatient, caught in his moment, having given his call and waited for
its response.  Atavistic, yes.  This was a day that acknowledged and
celebrated the atavistic, the recurrence and reversion to the ancient
ways.

At last, Saavik entered, remembering to keep her eyes down, but only
briefly as she cast them up unerringly into his again and never broke
away.  He saw her part in this as she took her place in the long line
of people who answered the gong's call and dedicated their lives to
the continuance of his House.

*Someday, my Saavik, it will be our child standing here, in this same
exact spot. A son who will wait for his mate, or a daughter who will
come to her choice.*

The bells sounded once more before being stilled, but the shrill cry
of a hunting shavokh sounded far above their heads, another resonance
heard from past to present.  It pleased him.

The moment came when Saavik might demand a challenge, and his
heightened senses imagined hearing McCoy's anxious intake of breath.
He almost smiled because Saavik's eyes only beckoned as the deep
timbre of the gong had: *Come to me*.  Finally he was allowed to,
meeting her in front of T'Lar.  Peripherally, he saw McCoy relax, and
tied to images of the past as he was, Spock almost glimpsed a man in
an old style Starfleet tunic of command gold and captain's braids
standing next to the doctor.  For that matter, he almost glimpsed a
petite human woman with bright, sapphire eyes next to his father.
Illogical thoughts.  He didn't care.  He was as intensely thankful for
the idea of the other images as he was for the ritual that froze he
and Saavik in a moment as T'Lar began.

*Saavik-- Avra'ch'laba-- lover-- friend--*

He waited, keeping the last word for later, when he was able to call
her it fully.

T'Lar's words bathed them.  He paid them enough heed to know what was
expected of him, to enjoy his new awareness of why they were said and
how they had been said through the years.  The rest of his attention
belonged to the woman before him who never once took her eyes off of
him.

He admired her.  The strong intellect that always challenged him,
ruthlessly logical as he first thought it and always meant as a
compliment.  The boundless energy harnessed to her determination to
see what she wanted herself to be and then stride forward until she
reached her goals.  The complex levels of personality kept behind
walls of privacy that surpassed his own, but kept open for him.  One
foot planted in the stars and the other willingly rooted to Vulcan.
And so very beautiful.

This vibrant woman was committing herself to *him*.

T'Lar's words called him back. Time to kneel before the Vulcan elder
as she touched their temples and waited as they raised their hands and
touched each other as well.

At that exact moment, lightning and thunder flashed from Mount Seleya,
giving his fanciful mind the idea that it mimicked the power of his
bond to Saavik. He was thoroughly satisfied with the day.

At this point came the cup ritual, only T'Lar was signaling *wait* to
T'Selis and speaking to him instead.  "We always had a plan for thee.
Thee shall fulfill it."

Later he would be surprised.  Now, it felt right, linked as it was to
his feeling his place in time.  *Buk*, he thought.  The Vulcan word
for destiny--

T'Lar spoke to Saavik, proclaiming her guardian and Spock suddenly
quailed, losing the tie to antiquity, for Saavik was more than capable
of sacrificing herself for him.  He did not want her taking on the
danger of his battles. *Refuse!* he pleaded, but she was lost inside
herself, even as she stared into him.

T'Lar passed him the plain, earthenware cup, and the sense of ritual
returned even as he kept the feeling of the present and what Saavik
gave as she vowed to bind her life to his. She chose him.  He offered
her the cup with its water, the greatest symbol of life to a desert
people. She took it, sipped, eyes sparkling as the water did.  They
shared the stimulating feeling of minds already joined, the
anticipation of *more* to come, of being each others as they made this
commitment.

A memory struck of something he once heard: he rotated the cup until
he drank from the same spot as her, his lips were hers had been, the
only physical joining they had for the moment, and the banked, inner
spark threatened to leap to life.

T'Lar's words brushed over them like a cool breeze across the Forge.
"Thee will need that deep a bond."

That deep a bond?  He had no doubt they did.

"Now recite thy vows."

Most certainly.

"Parted and never parted," he spoke, his voice deep and low.  Nothing
kept him from Saavik, not anymore.  Not the lightyears of space, not
the people who caused rifts, tearing at their relationship no matter
what it may be at the time; not the fear of rejection or losing what
precious bit they had to go further.  They fought all that, slowly, at
times pushed to do so, until they were ready to be here.

"Never and always touching and touched," Saavik said, husky.  Their
bond pulsed, alive and thriving.  Amazing how it was so much more than
it had been, when it had been so much already.

T'Lar gestured for them to rise.  "Thee are wed, Spock, son of Sarek,
son of Skon, son of Solkar, and Saavik, Vulcan's Daughter."

Excellent.  The elder emphasized not Saavik's krenath status, but what
she achieved with her place here, her link to all of Vulcan, the best
of what it was and meant.

The ceremony's end also ended his mood and he found he had been
surreally, and uniquely, barely sane.  He did not care.  The long
observance done meant he was fully sound and Saavik with him.  And at
last he called her that last word: wife, wholly joined by words and
deeds.

*His wife!*

He was thoroughly pleased with the day.

He watched as she turned away from the sight of Ruanek and T'Selis,
and calmly returned her teasing about the obvious chemistry between
the exiled Romulan and the Vulcan healer.  Suddenly all sanity, the
one he just enjoyed and the one that carried him inimitably through
the wedding fled.  The Fires claimed them both.

Sarek made their escape, stopping only for that one simple message
before setting them free.  And then, they were alone, walking hand in
hand like all lovers, gazing at the beauty of a sunset over a desert,
marking this moment as other sunsets over deserts marked other moments
in their lives.

He held her and they spoke their vows again.  Then she settled against
his chest, her head finding the spot she discovered she enjoyed most,
the one particular curve under his chin along the side of his neck.
She sighed and it teased his collarbone, her open mind spilling her
utter contentment into his senses.

They savored the delicious thrill of anticipation, of the Fires slowly
building but not so high they couldn't just be *here*, together.  His
arms settled around her waist and she laid hers on top.  No words,
just thought and feeling and the wonderful expectation of more.

His hand brushed down from the curve of her jaw, around the side of
her breast making her inhale with pleasure and settled on her abdomen
for a moment, before dancing down hip, thigh, and knee, the farthest
he could reach.  The weight and warmth of her made him feel complete
as she stretched languidly full length against him.

"We should go," he finally murmured. Not breaking the moment, but
continuing it with the anticipation intensifying.

She turned in his arms, playing with him in a way she discovered.  She
brushed the psi-points along his temple and jaw with her own, abruptly
dropping her mental shields so her desire for him coursed through the
sensitive nerve junctions as she did the same with their hands,
stroking them, making them jolt with pleasurable shocks.

"Saavik," he growled, but she ignored him as she continued her game
until he couldn't speak, barely could think, snatching what measure of
thought he had to send to her, *My wife, unless you want to indulge in
public displays*--

Her throaty chuckle helped not at all.  The heat grew and his hands
were only still because she wouldn't release them from her sensual
torture. He persistently tried to get her to stop for the moment or
grab her so he may return the rapturous torment she inflicted. It
wasn't until she caught the image in his mind of how soft a cushion
the sand would be and that no one was in sight that she answered him.
*Sand gets into everything.*

He was too far gone for banalities. *I prefer we not return to the
hospital.*

They shared their mutual displeasure at the thought of another room
with medical sensors silently monitoring them to make sure they lived,
when their pon farr ebbed low enough to be told they were being wed
today, and so on.

*Ruanek is at the estate, Sarek at the townhouse,* he continued.
*Where else*?

*I know.*  She fully embraced him, ending her teasing, her fingers
slipping into his hair and pulling him ardently against her. "Come
with me," she purred against his mouth.  Not in the voice used on
Dralath, that provincial, placating tone Evaste spoke in.  This was
Saavik's voice, pitched for him, husband and lover.

He went with her.

---
SAAVIK
---

She watched McCoy come in, waiting for his reaction.  Letting the man
inside the door gave him entrance to more than just the room she had
shared with Spock for the past few days.  Their quarters reflected the
two of them at their most primeval, their most private, their
most--non-human.

The doctor spun around suddenly, feeling her gaze, and for a second
she saw a frantic expression on his face, as if he searched for her
and was worried he wouldn't find her.  Then the state of the room
seeped into him and in spite of his multitude of past comments that
started with 'green-blooded, pointed eared--', he was shaken by the
alieness of what he saw.

*The sheep's clothing has been pulled off Spock and I, and McCoy has
found le-matyas, not wolves.*.

She did not want him shaken, not for the world would she upset him.
He was too good to her, and he meant so much to Spock.

She cast her eyes over, prepared to point out silently how right she
had been, but stopped.  Everything her mate felt for her spoke from
his eyes, and she felt her own response surge out through their bond.
She caught his subtle shift in balance and muscle and knew he was
coming for her, ready to push the intruder out and gather her to him.
Her hands already planned how to take the deep red robes off of him,
her mind already opened and seeking his in the minimal space between
them, her body already feeling the touch of his skin against hers.

"I guess we can forget about the bride and groom not seeing each other
before the wedding," McCoy said.

Interrupted, the flame banked into embers, and she gazed at him with
some humor.  Much better; McCoy was... McCoy again, and although he
ruined what would have been a wonderful time for Spock and her, the
intrusion was necessary.  Unwelcome, but necessary.

Spock gave in to the inevitable, and she walked with him out of the
room into the too bright day.  The sunshine reminded her of how long
it had been since she last saw it: the day she arrived on Vulcan,
already in the throes of seizures and unconscious.  Although-- was it
daytime when she arrived? Through the haze she remembered one female
healer each taking her arm, a third at her legs, lifting her off the
shuttle's gurney like a martyred figure.

At least, she thought she remembered it.  Her controls were not equal
to Spock's, not even to other Vulcans who had started their training
at the normal age.  She fell to the Time of Mating faster than her
bondmate had.

McCoy came up behind them, the bare white door closing, and she felt a
tinge of regret for the lost moment he had interrupted.  But she let
it go, settling for teasing Spock silently over McCoy's earlier
reaction.  He was staring at her again, more in control this time, but
with the hunger close to the surface.  It distracted her for long
moments until the doctor stumbled over something he tried to tell
them.  She was still half-distracted when she gave her response, and
so when he informed her he had thought she had been dying -- which was
true -- and had rushed here to at least say his final goodbye, she was
stunned.  She always thought McCoy saw her as some extension of Spock.
That she meant enough to him personally--

She and Spock moved in tandem, their union in pon farr extending to
these first moments of separation.  They each took one of Leonard's
hands -- the hands since they were so important to Vulcans, being the
instruments through which they poured their mental ability and
themselves.

The impact of this moment did not mean she enjoyed any less the
teasing she gave the doctor with Spock's help. After all, that Bride
of Satan comment deserved some retaliation; McCoy must have been
saving that particular colorful reference for years, just waiting for
the right moment.  Nothing the man did surprised her anymore -- or at
least hadn't until today.  His freely speaking of his love for them
and his happiness for this day were things she already knew, but the
small kiss on her cheek caught her off-guard.

*If Spock did not continually stare at me so ardently, I might not be
off-guard-- *really, his faith in her self-control was touching but
misplaced. She felt her pulse leap with each of her mate's looks; so
much so, she truly repented coming out into public.

Reason returned with the presence of her wedding party, especially in
light of her renewed lessons in what was expected of her today.  She
noted almost sadly that Sarek hesitated to remind Spock of the male's
duties, not wanting to recall how wrongly his first wedding ended.
Wrongly, she thought darkly, because of the improper Challenge, not
because he was meant to be with T'Pring.  She felt no jealousy over
Spock's first betrothed -- although she would have to restrain her
words and actions if she ever met the woman -- or anyone else
previously in his life.  How could she?  *She* was the one standing
here today, about to enter his family's ancestral site for
Koon-ut-kal-if-fee.

And yet-- something inside mocked her brave, proper thoughts-- She had
come close to being jealous a day or so ago, when pon farr ebbed for a
few moments. How ironic to think that she grew covetous not over
some*one*, but some*thing* -- something she herself dedicated her life
to.

They had lain together, limbs entwined, discussing the sudden
passionate present and a future that death had come close to removing.
She had at last given voice to the thoughts that had built from the
moment she had first learned he had crossed the Neutral Zone days ago.
She had meant to do so reasonably, but reason had fled into righteous
anger as she had told him he never should have gone into such danger
alone when Charvanek had contacted him for help.  Her throat had
tightened as she had explained how it had bothered her that Uhura, not
Spock, was the one to tell her what he had done.  How she had thought: 
*--I will not stand watch, Spock, while you sacrifice yourself again--
I will not be left holding a burial robe as the one thing I have left
of you--*

And he had replied only that she understood duty as well as he did.

Her temper had flared at this casual dismissal, recalling again how
Surak died violently for his cause.  That fact edged her words as she
had argued.  She did understand duty for she went to Narendra III
without him, even though the odds were she would die from pon farr.
When he had irritably replied, "I told you I had allies I could not
abandon.  Charvanek--", Saavik had scrambled out of the tangle of
limbs and bedding. Without the benefits of her emotional controls, she
had succumbed too easily to an enraged storm.

"Please tell me I did not just hear you say you could not abandon
*CHARVANEK!*  When you *could* obviously abandon me to most likely die
at Narendra III!"

He never finished his blithe reply, "The needs of the many--"

Sheer fury and pon farr had given her the strength to flip their
massive bed on its side, dumping her clueless mate to the floor.  She
had vaulted over the overturned frame before the utter shock and
anxiety on Spock's face reigned in her temper.  Sickened that she
caused him to be so distressed, she had lowered herself to her knees
next to him.

"I thought you understood," he had said hoarsely at last. "Dralath had
to be stopped.  I had to find a way to ensure that happened."

"I do understand," she answered, swallowing hard. "I only wonder --
Spock, why must it always be you who undertakes these things? The
message my subconscious heard that night, that has haunted me as I lay
in the dark alone while you slept, is this.  Between the two of us, my
death was more acceptable to you than Charvanek's, my fate less
important than her war."

A look of horror had risen in his eyes and he had grabbed her arms.
"How can you say that to me?  I came to you as soon as I was able."

"As soon as duty was satisfied.  No, listen to me!  I *do* understand.
I am as sworn to my responsibility to protect the Federation and
uphold its ideals as you.  However, I am not sworn to a Cause other
than that oath, and if need be, I will put you before it. Spock, can
you ever do that?  Will there be a time when the needs of the two will
outweigh the many, or is this all our lives will ever encompass?"

His voice was very soft. "When I went behind the Neutral Zone, I was
thankful I did not risk anyone but myself, that is why I did not
contact you.  I did not *want* you endangered."

"But I *was* endangered!  If something happened to you... put aside
what our bond suddenly ending would have done to me, if you had
died..." She had held his face in her hands, that face so dear to her,
marked by lines of experience and years, the years that so incredibly
formed the mind that always drew her.  The face containing warm eyes
that gripped her heart, and the mouth she had, even at that important
moment, thought of stroking with her own. Her voice had shaken. "I
could not even write you a letter to say goodbye when I wrote the
others with my will. Can you not imagine what your death would do to
me?"

"Yes." The word had torn from his throat, raw and distraught. "When I
saw you there, amongst Dralath's vipers -- when I heard about the
Klingon colony and thought you---" He struggled for control.

"Don't, Spock.  Even if you could, I do not want you to check whatever
it is you think or feel.  Not between us."

His eyes warmed. "You have always given me your acceptance."

"Always.  As you have given me yours.  Tell me what you are thinking."

He took a deep breath, not for control, but to find a place to start.
"I know I take on more than my assigned missions, and those demands
unfairly take more of me.  Another husband could give you more of
himself, while I can only swear to you, and I do *swear*, that I will
never let my work take all of me away from you."

"Are you certain you can make that promise?"

"That is unfair.  Your work keeps us apart as much as mine."

"It is not your work that concerns me.  It is your idealism."

"Saavik," his voice showed the strain, "would you say all this if I
was not seeking reunification with the Romulans?"

"Honestly--" She had searched herself and the motivations stirring
somewhere in her abdomen. "Yes, I would."  She had stroked his cheek
and smiled fondly. "If it was not the Romulans, it would be something
else."

"Do you ask me to choose?" There was a fear in his voice that she had
never heard before. And it warmed her heart.

"Never.   You would not be you without it.  I ask if there is a place
for me along with it."

"If I believed anything else, I would not have bonded with you.  Does
my coming home to you not prove that?"

"No, because you *are* bonded to me, Spock, and pon farr drew you
home.  It is not a conscious choice.  Our lives depended on the Fires
being satisfied, but it is not a reason to marry.  Not for me, nor for
you. I will not have you out of obligation or for a decision you made
when you thought you could not have the path you wanted."

"I do not understand why you suddenly think this way."  He had stared
into her uneasily. "Or have you thought this all along?"

She had looked away while she searched herself again. "...No.  I did,
after all, leave you behind when you insisted, but what that cost me--
*leaving* you there, and most likely never see you again.  I learned
how-- intensely emotional I am about you." She stopped, and her
features softened with a warm glow. "Ashau nash-veh tu."

"Ashau nash-veh tu," he echoed.

"I always will, Spock, no matter what path our lives take.  We spoke
of having children, and I want them -- I surprise myself with how
deeply I want them. However, our plans for them centered on your being
an Ambassador and my career in Starfleet.  But is that true anymore?
Will our children be cheated of their parents because you need to
serve something more than duty?  Charvanek's campaign, for example--"

"You have mentioned her more than once. Is this about Charvanek?
Saavik, if it is--?"

But she had already shaken her head, and had even managed a wry smile.
"No, or I would not have so easily left you behind with her.  Although
I can imagine how quickly she made you an offer to help you through
the Fires."

"I would never dishonor you that way."

"Meaning she did suggest it. Oh yes, I am sure it was out of
friendship."  The smile became darker. "And despite my knowing you
were once attracted to her and how much of it still exists, I know she
is not a rival. I know because *she* knows and I saw it written in her
expression. But I am discussing something else." She had stopped to
gather her thoughts, and when she had looked at him again, her eyes
had shone. "You end my loneliness. Bonded to you has been the only
time in my life when I have been... never parted. I do not want to
lose you, not even to a good cause, and it is not fair to cheat any
children we have." She had touched his lips to keep him from speaking.
"I know my duty to Starfleet and the Federation.  And I know *yours*.
I ask only to share your life with it. Do what you must do and I will
help you any way I can, if it is true I am *sharing* you and not
always abandoned.  If you need to be no one's, tell me so and as soon
as it can be safely done, I will free you from our bonding.  Only, te
His grip had eased on her arms, but he had lost none of his ardor. "Do
you honestly believe I want anything else?  I am looking for a wife,
not someone to soldier my conflicts."

"You know I will always stand by you, even if we are not married."

"I know."

"I will even come to you for pon farr if you do not choose someone
else. But we cannot go any further.  It is not fair to either of us."

"You would leave me?" he rasped.

"If it is necessary for us both, yes."

And then she had suddenly trembled.  Without a word, Spock had
gathered her closer, warming her with his body, and then wrapped a
sheet around them both sealing them intimately together. "I made a
choice for a greater good on Romulus, and you understood and shared in
it. I wish I could say you did not have to share me at all, or that it
would at least be in equal proportion to how I will share you with
your work." And it had been his turn to press staying fingers to lips.
"I told you when we discussed our betrothal about the time, years ago
on *Enterprise*, when I was first struck by the woman you had become.
I silently vowed to wait for you, no matter how many years it took, so
you would have time for establishing your career.  I allowed too many
other things to stop my hopes that you would ever see me in the same
light: my memory loss from Genesis, such tearings as Valeris, and then
I built a new life and needed time myself.   You cannot believe how
amazed I was to discover you were not only finally ready.

His forehead had then nestled against hers, and she had whispered
hoarsely, "I still find it hard to believe you thought any of this.
Why did you never say anything before? Later when we were ready? On
Tomed, I told you that you need only ask, and I would come to you in
the pon farr. You told me the same.  So many other times, one word,
one look or touch would have brought me to you.  You must have seen
it."

"I saw pon farr was something any man can satisfy, and I will not be
bonded to someone unless it was because she chose *me*.  And I am
afraid I was oblivious to any other signs you gave me.  To be fair,
*you* were oblivious to the signs I gave you.  Anything I did see, I
put down to you feeling obligated to our past.  I told you that I will
not be bonded out of duty for my rescuing you from Thieurrull or for
the guidance I gave you in those first years.  No more than you ever
let me feel a debt for Genesis or the numerous other times you saved
my life. If you were ever to come to me or I to you, it would be
because we freely chose it. I say all this because I made my choice to
be with you, knowing fully everything both of us may be called to do."

"Saavik, I will share you with whatever and whomever I must -- whether
it is your captain, your career, or our children -- if, as you say, I
am *sharing* you, not abandoned to your duty.  We both know we face
other days such as Narendra III, but do not leave me alone to face
them. I want my loneliness to end just as much as you." His hands had
risen to cup her face. "My choice did not change in Ki Baratan.  It
will never change."

They had sat silently holding each other for some time, staggered by
one of the rare periods they had managed to speak such words to one
another, and the new intimacy enhancing an already strong bond.

She had kissed his one palm. "Then I have something I must tell you."

T'Selis brought Saavik abruptly back to the present with a suddenness
that wrenched her. "Thakaya!"

She obeyed the healer's whispered word and concentrated.  Fortunately,
no one else but the younger woman clad in the red and white robes of
Mount Seleya had noticed her lapse.  Her will converged on listening
to the rest of the healer's instructions, using them as a focal point
as she met Spock's look.

Everything went well until the instruction to keep her eyes downcast.
After remembering that most important moment when she and Spock bonded
themselves into a cherished partnership, the gesture sounded too
submissive.  She must have looked worse than she thought, because even
Spock eyed her with some concern.  She dryly teased him she was only
doing it for ceremony's sake, and further listened to the young
healer.  T'Selis may never have been in this spot herself -- with pon
farr circling around her senses, about to marry if she could think
clearly long enough -- but she was well trained.  She kept up her
quiet talk, giving Saavik that continued focus.

"Like the position you take when you walk with your consort, this
gesture is traditional. In PreReform days, the female as the child
bearer held a valued status-- the male walked ahead as protection--
however, as she is as much a part of their House, the female did not
just walk behind, but to the side so she may see any danger and guard
her husband --or the children walking between them.  Diverging
theories exist on why you enter Koon-ut-kal-if-fee with your eyes down
such as--"

The words swam in and out of her hearing; she did not need the history
lesson, but it was a link to reality.

T'Lar arrived, shrouded in her divan chair, and the systra shook,
signaling the beginning of the ceremony.  Saavik suddenly found it
difficult to have Spock walk away...

*Never and always touching and touched.*

--after being so closely together for every second since she struggled
back from near death to find him with her. She was not, nor had ever
been, a sentimental woman despite her passionate nature and deep
loyalties.  If she was born sentimental, Hellguard had burned it out
of her at an early age as it had burned away so many other things. So
she was ill prepared for the fierce tenderness and love she felt for
Spock.  She knew the emotions she had carried for him for so long now,
but she did not know the firestorm depths they would become in the so
recent past.

He walked backwards away from her so their eyes, at least, were not
parted until the last possible moment. In a minute, she heard the gong
sound, its deep timbres a substitute for Spock's own.

T'Lar passed by, and Saavik was even more grateful for the way T'Selis
had anchored her so she may meet the awe-inspiring presence of the
Vulcan Elder calmly.  After all, she was marrying into a respected,
noble House.  She would show she was worthy of it.

It made for the perfect moment for Sarek to be suddenly revealed as
T'Lar's passage no longer blocked their view of each other.  She saw
some indefinable, undeniable light in his regard.

"Daughter."

She did not trust herself to speak at first, and he almost left before
she found her voice. "My father."

How odd and how utterly wonderful to feel those words on her tongue.

*"How did I get here?"*

Not her words but Amanda's, the memory suddenly rising of when the
older woman talked about her wedding day to Sarek.  Saavik could hear
the clear, sparkling tenor of Amanda's laughter as she happily told
the story.

*"That's what I kept thinking.  How did I ever get here?  Who would
have thought it?  Not me.  I did not look at Sarek the first day I met
him and think here's the man I'll marry. And then when I finally did
think it, I didn't dare hope he felt the same way, or that his family
might accept me. But there I stood, in my silver gown -- from Sarek's
family, handed down for generations. The cloth is always preserved so
it can be styled for the woman who wears it."  She smiled. "I was so
-- well, let's say petite -- the extra cloth was folded into a drape
at my shoulder."*

Saavik smoothed the same cloth now adapted carefully to fit her
taller, willowy form.  Amanda's dress--

She was more pragmatic than Spock, firmly anchored into the present
with her eyes to the future.  She rarely looked far into the past, so
while she gave thought to the other women who wore this same gown, she
only felt Amanda's presence.

*"I stood there," Amanda said, "waiting for the sound of that gong as
people are whispering to me all the things I had to do.  I couldn't
believe I was about to walk to Sarek.  And even though we were in the
Time of Mating, I was startled at how much he returned my feelings."
Her grin grew wicked. "You know, you're a lot better at hearing this
than Spock is.  Just mention anything like this to him, and he
practically slaps his hands over his ears so he doesn't hear it.  But
then, we're his parents."  Her chuckle trailed off to a happy sigh.
"Someday it will be your turn, Saavik.  Someone's going to stop your
solitary headlong dash and make you understand why people make this
commitment.  As Sarek did for me."*

The echoes of the gong and systra tinged the memory with something
more.  Ancient instinct whispered to Saavik and she felt it course in
her veins.

"Are you all right?" someone asked: a human woman in Starfleet uniform
who looked vaguely familiar.  When she nodded wryly, the woman asked
another question, her expression almost fearing to hope. "Do you
remember me?"

On the other side of a wall formed by a haze of seizures and coma,
Saavik dimly recalled this woman with the healers who took her from
her transport.  And before that, this same woman was by her side the
whole trip to Vulcan, sharing the battle with her as she fought to
stay alive.  And even further back, the same face explaining to her
captain--

Garrett.  Garrett was unforgettable and so was this woman from now on.

"Dr. Stewart."

Francis Stewart nodded, tears brimming but held back.  Saavik closed
her eyes, feeling the old, heavy burden of all commanders when their
orders and duty sent people to their deaths.

"Enterprise," she said, hushed, and the other woman nodded again.  She
remembered the expression on Garrett's face as she talked Stewart into
making the trip with Saavik instead of the battle of Narendra III. The
expression that Saavik had seen on other commanders: *At least I know
this one will live.*

*Dannan Stuart*.  Her former captain and friend from their days first
on the Aefran, then the Venture followed by the full cruiser Rider.
Someone with the same spirit as this Stewart-- and Garrett, and one of
the few to get past Saavik's walls.  Saavik felt the keen disadvantage
of being a survivor like Francis Stewart, as well as the burden of
having a longer life span that meant too many of those important to
her lived their shorter lives and were gone.

Saavik could never find a way to repay the debt to the *Enterprise*
officers, but she would do something for Stewart who lost too much for
her.  And Sarek was kind to bring the woman here.

T'Selis signaled the doctor.  It was time they entered, and Saavik
passed a look of gratitude to them both.

*Not much longer now*.

And a good thing.  She was tired of waiting.

*Spock!*

At last, it was her turn. She started forward, remembering to drop her
eyes at the last moment, and keeping them down for only the minimum
amount of time.

She wanted him, and she found him.

*Spock!*

She silently called his other name, the words and endearments she had
for him, and then he was pulled towards her not by ceremony, but by
something far stronger than the gravity of any planet.  She felt his
mood through the bond, a sense of them as a part of something far
greater.  She rejoiced with him that he had found it, but she only
needed this moment.

*Spock--*

And for her, that was all she saw or felt through the whole ceremony
until the time of the cup ritual.  It wasn't the insanity of pon farr,
only that she had all she wanted.  She gave passing note to the
guests, remembering McCoy had contacted friends such as Sulu and
Rrelthiz, but they along with all the words and marital rites filtered
into her memory to be sorted through later.  Even the thunder and
lightening from Mount Seleya that caused Sarek and others to start
only surrounded her and her husband as a part of their aura. She
absorbed all of it, was the center of it, but registered only him.

*Husband--*

The outside intruded when T'Lar said to Spock, "We always had a plan
for thee.  Thee shall fulfill it."

Saavik felt Spock's satisfaction, but she wondered if T'Lar meant
Unification or something else entirely.  She had no time to think on
it when T'Lar's next words were aimed at her.

"Thee shall be guardian."

Guardian--

The word drifted through her mind, its implications spreading through
her concentration.  She still gazed at Spock, saw his own reaction,
but pieces and half-realized thoughts eddied like drifting waves
around her plans, almost out of grasp.

She always knew what was expected of her as Spock's wife: the unique
paradox of being both in his shadow and completely conspicuous. But
this-- guardian--

*The male walks ahead-- the female to the side so she may see any
danger and guard her husband--*

She was not just to be a part of his life, accepting that he had a
plan for a greater good -- she was to embrace that she played a part
in it.

*--I will not stand watch, Spock, while you sacrifice yourself
again--*

*--Surak died violently--*

One part of her mind saw her innocent days of being Armstrong's
science officer were numbered.  So were their simple days of being
just a married couple, Ambassador and Starfleet officer, with time to
raise children.  When Spock moved forward to rejoin Vulcan and the
Sundered, she could not count on anyone else such as Uhura to be in a
position to help them.  *She* must be in the position.

*--I came to know I did not want to be the consort of a legend--*

It was what T'Pring said to Spock, and she had not known how much more
he was to become.  The irony that she, Saavik, and Spock just spoke on
this same subject -- what being his consort meant.  She would be
sharing him with something larger than either of them imagined.

But Saavik willingly took the mantle. And was honored by the future
T'Lar set before her.

Spock handed her the cup, and she sipped the water, never breaking her
gaze from his, taking the symbolic water as he would, the
representation of the life they now shared.  Only he pressed his lips
to the spot where hers had touched, and she suddenly decided the
future could take care of itself.  She was much too involved with the
here and now as she and Spock enjoyed the powerful bond even T'Lar
noted out loud.

Then their vows:

"Parted and never parted-- never and always touching and touched."

How true.  The day was perfect, and she felt an illogical amount of
self-satisfaction, especially with herself for having stayed
controlled this long.

And then *that* failed by simply saying to Spock, "On Romulus, I could
not take my eyes off you."  So much for control.

She almost pushed Spock past Sarek who only tried to speak with his
son.  Clearly no one remembered but her that *she* was the one with
the lesser disciplines.  Her fingers against his trembled.

But at last, they were alone, and Spock held her against him, her back
to his chest.  They sat, his robe spread under them, enjoying the
sweet tug of expectancy.  She stretched idly, but when she felt the
thrill it shot through him, she turned it into a full, languid motion,
drawing it out until his mouth parted with the pleasurable agony.

"We should go," he murmured, but she was just finding her power over
him and reveled in it.

She turned in his arms, stroking him from temple to jaw and from
fingertip down the palm, both physically and mentally, the one
enhancing the other.

"Saavik," he growled, but she was only encouraged further by the
roughness in his voice.  She brought her body in close contact, but
never touched and didn't allow him to do so either.

She was thoroughly enjoying herself.

He caught that and thought, *And yet, you still have no idea how very
beautiful you are to me.  If you did, you would know how securely you
have my heart.*

She was learning.  Rapidly.

But her game was played with a double-edged sword.  The Fires fed on
his response as it swept through their bond into her veins, and her
heart pounded heat through her body as she felt not just her own
sensations, but his.  She almost pushed them past their limits by the
time she realized what was happening.  *Just* in time as Spock had
images of staying right where they were if she didn't stop long enough
for them to reach somewhere else.

*Ruanek is at the estate, Sarek at the townhouse. Where else*?

*I know*, she responded.  She embraced him, giving in to what they
both wanted, taking pleasure in the thought that it would be soon--
soon--

Her home, the house she built decades ago, the all-important marker
that she had made roots for herself.  To have Spock there now not as
the guest and friend he had been on all his visits before, but as the
lover and husband he had become-- the thought intoxicated her and she
pulled him eagerly against her.

"Come with me," she whispered. After all, it was now his home too as
his became hers, and she so wanted to escape there with him.

He went with her.

---
T'LAR
---

The wedding was hardly the first one at which where T'Lar had
officiated.  Indeed, it was the three hundred and thirty seventh.  She
performed the majority of them in her first years as a priestess of
Mount Seleya, both before and after her mastery of Kolinahr.  Bonding
ceremonies and weddings certainly did not need one of the Kolinahru
presiding over them, otherwise even one so revered as the late T'Pau,
who was most talented but not of Gol, could not perform them.  It only
took one of sufficient mental ability to not be drawn down by the
couple's mind touch so clouded by pon farr, to keep oneself *and* the
couple clear of its grip until the ceremony was completed.

However, *this* wedding held a special import.  It was held in
unspoken agreement on Mount Seleya and Gol that following T'Pau's
death, T'Lar herself would preside over Spock and Saavik's wedding on
whatever day it may be.  Indeed, most people, not having been a part
of the long discussions between T'Pau and T'Lar, knew nothing of the
distinctive nature to this marriage and the people in it.  The couple
themselves might even be unaware.

In fact, the wedding went very much like any other.  Or at least until
the moment she touched their minds, and waited as they touched each
other's.  As always, her strong presence, bolstered by the peace of
Kolinahr, helped calm them, strengthening their own controls that held
pon farr at bay.  Her presence never did more than that, never
affected the wordless thoughts or the emotions bubbling below the
surface.  She pointedly ignored these, her disregard giving them the
only privacy she could.

Some couples, once having been bonded at the age of seven or later,
never made an effort to contact each other before Koon-ut-kal-if-fee.
They faced each other as strangers to either find themselves
well-matched or continued strangers who might find a way to build a
life together. T'Lar never understood the logic of this, but it was
not her place to judge such things.

Others came here with some knowledge of each other, knowing they
matched intellectually, but not yet knowing each other well enough to
know if they matched each other heart and soul.

And then there were those like these two.

The whirl of their thoughts spoke of each other, the depth of their
commitment made without words.  Spock sensed some part they both
played in the scope of time and their place in the universe.  Saavik
realized how much she was a part of him, and their place in each
other's lives.

Satisfactory. And then T'Lar sensed something that turned everything
different.

Saavik was pregnant.

T'Lar knew from T'Pau that the couple had sought medical advice from
the Science Academy's geneticists when they were first bonded.  Being
hybrids might mean they'd have trouble having children, conceiving or
carrying them.  Spock and Saavik knew they were not sterile since
geneticists worked on them both while unborn.  However, logically
knowing children were a possibility for all the years they weren't
bonded was a world apart from needing to make sure they could have
them once children were wanted.

And of course, pon farr increased fertility.  The fact that a baby had
been conceived was not a surprise, but it did change things.

T'Lar wondered if they knew about the infant Saavik carried.  She paid
more attention to the thoughts streaming past her, doing her best to
maintain some sense of privacy.  They did.  In fact, knowing she was
pregnant made Saavik question Spock for the first time on whether his
goals meant he had time for a family.  She swore she'd stand by him no
matter what, but as wife and especially mother to their children, she
needed to know a family didn't interfere with his *buk*, his destiny
-- and that the destiny didn't interfere with his family, at least not
while they were too young.

That question took courage and strength to ask.  T'Lar was satisfied
to see they had both.  They were going to *need* both as well as the
resilient bond clearly visible between them.  She questioned how many
more simple days they had for career, marriage, and children before a
greater future overtook them. She gave them a warning that such days
were numbered.

"We always had a plan for thee.  Thee shall fulfill it."  And to
Saavik:  "Thee shall be guardian."

She listened as these thoughts settled on them.  Spock's satisfaction
was composed of the plan he had for himself and the part he sensed he
played in the line of time.  Her message was no surprise to him in
that way.  He shared his wife's resolve not to risk their children,
but T'Lar sensed he recoiled at the knowledge his wife was quite
capable of risking herself.

The Elder knew the children would not be sacrificed.  However, it was
quite probable that Saavik or Spock would be.  No one could predict
the future; it defied calculations. Surak had known what he had risked
when he had sought peace for warrior Vulcans; Spock knew what he
risked if he sought peace between his people and their Romulan
brethren.  But he quailed at drawing in his wife.

For Saavik, however, T'Lar's message was part surprise, part not.  She
always hazarded much for Spock whenever she thought it necessary, and
he for her.  Now the strength and determination she had used to build
a life from the ten-year-old savage to the highly respected Vulcan and
Starfleet officer needed to focus on a far larger path.  Spock's
detractors would fight against him when he sought reunification.
Members of the Federation Council, Starfleet, and Vulcan itself would
be shaken, declaring him a traitor. His message needed to be heard and
fought for on this side of the Neutral Zone as well as within the
Empire.

Not to mention, his actual physical safety would have to be insured if
he was to survive his life's mission, as Surak did not.

T'Pau once told T'Lar of how Spock's first betrothed gave this reason
to reject him besides wanting another: *I did not want to be the
consort of a legend-- * T'Lar waited, seeing the almost overwhelming
scope of their future filtrate through Saavik's consciousness until
the woman's strength shouldered the responsibility for the new life
she must build, the one quite different from what she had planned. She
would need to change more than her life.  She and Spock's disagreement
over reunification would have to be settled, although how to settle
her biggest conflict when it was a wife's right to fear for her
husband's life?  And in addition, the hatred she carried for those
cruelties done to her by the Romulans.

But T'Lar had no doubt Saavik would find a way to make it.  She had,
after all, gotten this far.

Saavik's name may never be known in history for the part she played in
it.  Historians rarely noted such people, but then T'Lar saw no desire
within the young woman to be a legend herself.

Spock was going to change things for Vulcan, for the entire
Federation.  He did not seek to be legendary himself, he never had.
But as he sought not only peace but also a refusion between Vulcan and
the Romulan Empire, a legend would build around him, greater than when
he sought out Starfleet.  Saavik was to be his shield.

Satisfactory.

T'Lar looked at them from her perspective measuring three hundred
years.  So young, both of them.

She released them to enjoy the time they had before the future caught
up to them.

---
EPILOGUE
---

Spock drew his fingers across Saavik's belly in idle, swirling
patterns.  Neither of them knew it, but he would make this same touch
the rest of their lives, whether she was pregnant or not.

"Enjoying yourself?"

He looked up into her devilish expression from where he pillowed
himself on her. "Very."

"Ah."

He re-settled himself comfortably and went back to his leisurely
play."Does it bother you?"

"Quite the contrary."

"Ah."

A long, pleasurable silence passed where he played with her abdomen
and the child behind it, and she played with his hair, disarraying it
even further from its usual straight lines.

"You never should have overturned the bed," he suddenly commented.

"I know."  Her fingers cupped him along his head and ear. "I never
meant to upset you."

"Or I you.  However, I meant that you need to be careful with what you
do, physically.  I don't want you risking your health or the child's."

"I thought the same thing immediately afterwards.  I will be more
careful." She went back to lazily fanning out his hair along her skin.
"However, the cause was sufficient."

"To throw your husband violently to the floor?" he mocked.

"To throw my *infuriating* husband to the floor."

"Is this an example of your logic?"

"Oh, yes.  I thought it a thoroughly logical idea."

"Then I am forewarned about any future attempts."

He wrapped his arm around her stomach and hip protectively.  His voice
grew serious. "Saavik-- you should have told me you were pregnant as
soon as you knew."

"I couldn't." Her arms drew him closer and her body curled around him
more. "I needed to know if the child and I held you back, or if we
could share you with what you must do.  If you knew I was pregnant
when I asked that question, your decision would have been influenced.
It was unfair."

"My wife--" his hand tightened on her hip. "Do not listen to T'Lar.
You need not risk yourself.  I am ready to risk myself to reach my
goals, but I will not risk--"

"Sshh." She laid her hand on his lips.  "We can discuss this another
time."

He noticed she touched him with her paired fingers, the gesture
between bondmates, between consorts.  He kissed them and felt her
relax underneath him.

He glanced about her -- *their* bedroom loft and a small part of the
livingroom, seeing the familiar furnishings and decorations.  So much
like her, this place.  Not an ancestral estate but made to be
everything it was by her alone.

"It was a good decision to come here."  He received a lazy, pleased
"Hmmm" in reply.

Sarek obviously speculated they'd end up exactly where they were;
someone had opened the house, airing out the stale space from the last
time Saavik was here.

Spock glanced up and saw she stared through the skylight that made up
the majority of the bedroom's ceiling.  She watched the stars, of
course.  Was that a wistful note in her eyes, he wondered?

"You will return to the *Armstrong* soon," he said.  To the
*Armstrong,* Starfleet, unknown worlds -- worlds that would need him
to negotiate, make treaties -- Earth and the Federation waiting to
question them about Ki Baratan and Narendra III.  He felt the
intrusion, but he would not force it on her wish to go back.

She sighed. "Too soon."  She looked down into his eyes with a soft
light. "I believe I will tell Captain Howes I need more time here."

He reached up, stroked her cheek, and then straddled her legs, taking
a hold of her hips to slide her down until her tender, radiant face
was directly beneath his. She touched his chin with gentle fingers,
and then pulled him down to her.  He went.

---

The End