Path: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!in.100proofnews.com!in.100proofnews.com!border2.nntp.dca.giganews.com!border1.nntp.dca.giganews.com!nntp.giganews.com!news-xfer.newsread.com!yellow.newsread.com!bad-news.newsread.com!news-toy.newsread.com!netaxs.com!newsread.com!POSTED.newshog.newsread.com!not-for-mail Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated Approved: ascem@earthlink.net Organization: Better Living Thru TrekSmut Sender: ascem@earthlink.net Message-ID: <182159338.20041229013204@gmx.de> From: "A.Q" MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCEML@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCEML-owner@yahoogroups.com Subject: NEW TOS "Family" 1/2 [NR] K/Saa Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-15 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Lines: 492 Date: Wed, 29 Dec 2004 01:55:03 GMT NNTP-Posting-Host: 209.198.142.218 X-Complaints-To: Abuse Role , We Care X-Trace: newshog.newsread.com 1104285303 209.198.142.218 (Tue, 28 Dec 2004 20:55:03 EST) NNTP-Posting-Date: Tue, 28 Dec 2004 20:55:03 EST Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated:86440 X-Received-Date: Tue, 28 Dec 2004 17:55:07 PST (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Title: Family Author: Acidqueen a.q at gmx.de Series: TOS Rating: NR, dark Codes: Kirk/Saavik, Sarek (Saavik/David, Spock/Saavik implied) Part: 1/2 Disclaimer: Paramount/Viacom owns Star Trek, I own my brain. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made. Archive: My own website at http://www.syredronning.de , ASCEM, all others ask, please. Acknowledgement: Thanks to Saavant for beta'ing! All remaining errors are mine. Summary: The relationship between Kirk and Saavik is not without * I wake up and I'm surprised that my bed isn't empty...isn't even my bed, but yours. I rarely sleep over at your place, but I was bone tired, and obviously you didn't want to wake me in the middle of the night. Not a good idea, Saavik, because nobody would like it if they found out about the two of us. Nogura wouldn't - I've told him a nice story about pretending the relationship to protect you, but he'd be the first one to kick my ass if he found out that the maneuver has become the truth. And Starfleet in general has rules concerning old Captains and young lieutenants. Spock...well, I only know that he doesn't seem to need me at the moment, and he can't recall you, and that saves us from his critics. But there'd be no one to cheer at us, when Tomcat JTK seduces a young, vulnerable mother. Even though you've seduced me. I look at you, your hair on the cushion like a fan, soft brown strands aligned as if for a picture. Vulnerable? I never saw you like that. You've been a brash lieutenant in your command training, never backing from inconvenient questions. But you've changed more than my picture of you. My fingers dance along your chin, travel over your lips, stroke the ear next to me. You're hot, but you never sweat. Even Spock did, but you're fully Vulcanoid, although you're not fully Vulcan. The difference is tangible, and never more so than in bed. You seem to be always ready and always needy, never more alive and burning than when I'm with you, in you. Your eyes open, and you give me that gaze, intense, less shaded and guarded than usual. I'm so ready, I don't know what you do to me, but I roll over and I'm in you and it's as if I'm twenty years younger and you're mine and the boy is ours and we're one happy family on a normal, everyday morning. Outside the sun is shining and the rays climb up the walls behind you when I rhythmically push you into the mattress. Then it's over, and you make coffee while I recover, and there I'm back in my old shell, back to being the old man who's the grandpa and destroying the family with his sleeping around. Carol's voice still clings in my ears from time to time - it's hard to overcome accusations when they're hitting home. You bring in the coffee, and I wonder once more if you only drink it for me, but I never ask. Pulling you into a very human kiss, I cherish the moment, knowing that a wonderful, rare illusion is going to end in a few minutes, and we'll go out into a world where we never dare to show our true selves. * I'm running late, and I don't care. The lift is running slow, and I don't care either. Daniels is calling after me when I step into my office, but I'm too slow to turn around. Instead, I face an unexpected visitor. The deja-vu is powerful, and I freeze in the door, throatily asking, "Anything wrong with Spock?" Sarek raises a brow and says, "Not as far as I know." I feel the air returning to my lungs. "Good." "I must speak with you, Kirk," he says coolly, before I can greet him. "About?" I say, and sit down on the couch. I regret it the second I hit the upholstery, because he remains standing and so I have the weaker position. And then I'm pondering why I think this discussion will be a nasty one. It's something in his tone that just doesn't ring as friendly as our last meetings have been. "About Saavik." "About Saavik," I repeat slowly. "And why are we talking about her?" "What are your intentions with her?" Sarek says. I've never managed the neat trick of lifting one eyebrow, as Bones and Spock did. Therefore, I just look humanly dumb-founded. "I beg your pardon?" "You have entered a relationship with her. I am asking of what kind it is." Of all the things he could've said, this was the least unexpected. And yes, this is going to be an uncomfortable talk. I feel my shoulder muscles involuntarily tensing. "I'm supporting her since she's come back to Earth, if that's what you mean." "This is not what I am talking about, Kirk. I am speaking of a sexual liaison." He looks rather serious and determined, and I decide that lying would be rather ineffective. "I don't think that should be your concern in any way, Ambassador," I say, trying attack as best defense. But he has a better card than I have, obviously. "Saavik is a member of my family. It is far more my business than you believe." "A member of your family?" "Spock finally signed the adoption papers that were prepared long ago." "Spock signed..." Anger rises. That son of a... "Did he ask Saavik before he decided to interfere with her life like that? He didn't care one little bit for her after the fal-tor-pan, so why does he do it now?" "It was long settled, Kirk. The papers should have been signed months ago. Since one week ago, she is a full member of my family. With all rights and duties." "So you claim to have authority over her now? Damn, where were you when she was stranded on Earth with little money?" "She refused any help at that time. One of the reasons why I have advised Spock to sign the papers." "And when did you plan to tell her about the adoption?" I glare at him. "I already did two days ago." That hits me. Two days? What kind of game is she playing with me? Sarek sits down, finally facing me. "Don't you realize, Kirk, that her behavior is unusual for a Vulcan, and even more for her? Did the thought never cross your mind that she might have a serious problem? I can see it in your eyes, Kirk, you know that I am right." What do I know of Vulcans, I think in frustration, of any Vulcan in my life? "I don't know," I say and shrug. "She didn't change more than I'd expect any young lieutenant to change after the events concerning Genesis." "Most of the changes, I have heard, came over the birth of her son. I presume her hormonal system has not fully recovered, but she did not see any of the physicians that I have recommended to her. Amanda tried to reason with her, but also to no avail." Sarek looks suddenly tired. "Kirk...you must talk to her. Maybe you can make her see the truth in my words." "I don't know if I want to, Sarek. She's her own woman and adult. I'm only..." A guest in her life, I think, but don't voice it. And I'm that guest because it's me who's holding back from more commitment. The story of my life. "You are her lover, Kirk. Much as I resent the notion. But maybe it was to be expected, with Spock out of both your lives." "I don't know what you're referring too, but I don't like it." I briskly stand up and walk behind my big bureau table. He rises too, lifting a brow. "You cannot ignore the truth, Kirk. I expect you to act accordingly." "Or...?" "I will force Saavik to comply with the family's order." "We're not on Vulcan." "I have my means." "You better leave this office now, Ambassador." Damn, this is Spock's father, the man who would have rather let Vulcan secede from the Federation than to give over the Enterprise renegades. The man who saved us all from the mines and instead helped us to get back into space. And it's the man who's threatening the two persons who are dearest to me, in my own office. "I will." He bows and leaves, and I sag into my chair, clenching my fists. I have to talk to Saavik - tonight. * "Why didn't you tell me?" I stand in the same door as two months ago and look down on you. It's like watching the holy, peaceful, eternal image of mother and child. Anyone ever noticed the odd man out? "Why didn't you tell me?" I repeat the question, and at least you don't pretend not to know what I'm talking about. "Does it matter to you?" You barely shed me a glance. "Not as long as Sarek doesn't walk into my office and give me a rubdown for being involved with a family member of his." I see a brow rising and lowering, but without comment. A part of me would like to shake you, but you'd just give me a Vulcanly glare. So I sit down next to you. "Saavik - do you accept the adoption?" "They didn't ask me. There was a time when it was my greatest dream to have a family...today, I feel as if I have one." "You do? I don't, really." Only in those precious little moments we had, but I graciously ignore them for now. "You have an irritating habit of avoiding anything personal." I'm also ignoring my own habit on that part. "And you're not the woman you used to be, Saavik. Where is the energetic, promising lieutenant from the Academy? Where did she go, tell me." I'm wondering if it's me or Sarek speaking. But then I look into your eyes and there's no shimmer in them, none of the sparkles there are in the morning. Your everyday face is closed, tight, bleak, a façade worse than Spock's ever was. You work, go shopping, go home and, as far as I know, I'm the only person you're ever really talking to. And yet, there are many moments where even I can't read you. I suddenly want to get rid of that damping field around us before you can suffocate me, lulling me with sex and promises of a family that wasn't ever going to be. Or maybe it's just my bad conscience talking, wondering if I'm actually getting sex for money. "I want you to go to one of the physicians that Sarek has recommended to you." There's a frown in your features, and an accusation in you voice when you asks, "Was that an order, Captain?" for the first time in a long while addressing me by my rank. "Not yet, Saavik," I say. "And you won't succeed in angering me. I've had enough young, brash cadets in my life to handle you without problems." So there you are, showing me more energy than in a long time, challenging me, and all I can think about is controlling you again? Maybe I've been in Starfleet for too long. But Sarek's right - looking at it with a clear mind this isn't the Saavik we've known before. "What would you do if I didn't follow your advice?" you ask. Visions of simply pulling you to the next physician play in my mind. But I don't want to sink down to Sarek's level. "The question is: what will Sarek do?" I never get an answer. Instead, you stand up and put Daavid to bed, all caring mother. Then you leave, and I watch you go and realize that this wasn't my best discussion ever. I kiss Daavid good night, whispering sweet words in his still not understanding ears, and I don't know when I'm going to see him again. Something doesn't feel right anymore, the fragile construction shaking and threatening to collapse. And somehow it's my fault, I think. It's been always my fault. I go out into the living room, where you are setting the table for one. You couldn't possibly say more in a better way, and so I swallow everything I want to say, grab my coat and leave. * The call comes in so early the next morning that Daniels isn't yet there to take it. I guess the caller before I even see his face. He wears a red-brown robe, and on his folded hands, the big jewels are shimmering. On a human, it would've been called pretentious. I wonder if it should tell me something about the Vulcan society I didn't know so far. "Captain. Have you spoken with Saavik?" Sarek says. "I did." "With what result?" "She didn't listen to me," I say coolly. "In effect, it seems we split over it, if that's any consolation for you." I begin wishing I had a coffee this morning. He raises a brow, giving me The Gaze. Only Vulcans can look like this. "It is not," he says to my astonishment. "You were the only friend whom she met on a regular basis." "You are sending a private investigator after her?" "For the last three weeks, yes." "Don't you esteem privacy very highly?" "The family is of even higher importance." It's a weird discussion for sure, and I could've enjoyed it on some other day. But not this morning. "I need to start working, Ambassador. I'll contact you in case of new developments." I close the line, and I feel guilty again. It's Spock's father, my conscience claims. It's the man who thinks he has any say in my affairs, my brain says. I'll deal with my problems in my own, special way. Like always. * A week later, I admit to myself that dealing meant ignoring. I didn't call you, and you didn't call me. The only people who called me were Sarek in the office and Amanda at home. But after having had a first, complicated talk with her, I've decided to ignore her number as I ignore his. Knowing that you're often short of money, I've transferred the usual credits to your account. I don't know if you use it, but I hope you do. I do it for Daavid, I keep telling myself. I want only the best for him. And I begin thinking that it might be for the best if his grandpa doesn't fuck his mother. It is destroying a family, not Carol's non-existent one, but Sarek's. I'm too close to Spock's parents, I can't do that to them. But then there's that reception at the office for beta quadrant affairs, and you're there because someone assigned you to the new Romulan task force. I guess that you didn't want to do it, because you've always despised everything Romulan. But you're too valuable, and there's a limit to the freedom of choice in Starfleet, as I know well. And so you're there and I watch your face from a distance. And I watch your body and I suddenly need you, want you, want to throw your and my mask aside to fuck the hell out of you in the middle of the hall. Because by now I know I could. By Vulcan law I might marry you, even should marry you. Nobody would bat an eye on us there, and Vulcan law overrules Federation law when it comes to family business. I want to walk over and push away the little spotty lieutenant you're talking to and I want to claim you as mine. Not as my daughter-in-law, but as my wife. You raise your head and your long hair frames your face when your eyes meet mine. Of course you don't smile, and it's right and you don't have to. You aren't human, and I can't expect you to be. I don't have the right to judge you by my standards, because you're unique. It takes a while before I manage to get close to you, and I pull you into a corner. "Saavik," I say. "We need to talk. But not here." "Agreed," is all you say. "My apartment, tomorrow afternoon?" You lift a brow - you've barely been there, and never without Daavid. But this is about the two of us, and I want you to know that I'm changing the rules. I can only hope you'll understand. "I will come at 1600," you finally say, and leave me in the corner. But there's hope, after all. * It's not as if we really talk. Not when you arrive, and not when I make the coffee from which you barely sip. I feel it would be easier to say what I want to say when you're in a more emotional state. And you seem to think that you can escape whatever I want to say when my brain is focused on other things. Therefore, we end in bed much too soon. And it's the old pattern and you give me that look, inviting but without challenge, open and yet guarded, as if you're hiding behind a mirror. I begin stroking you, wanting to give you one of the long, tender foreplays that I enjoy. Your hand catches mine, holding it mid-air. "I need you," you say. "I need you too, Saavik. More than I ever thought." You minutely shake you head. "I need you now. Have sex with me." "I'm in the process," I say amused. I'm so needy I feel like bursting. But today we're at my place, and I think we've got to catch up with some of the things other people start with. Like long, tender foreplays. "Take me," you say, but your eyes don't shimmer. You're more like a puppet, thrown onto my covers by some giant's hand. "Why can I never hold you?" I say, remembering all those moments where I wanted to be just close, and she didn't let me. "Is it something Vulcan?" You stay in silence, still suspending my hand. And when I try kissing your shoulder, you twist away. Suddenly, it dawns on me. "This isn't about being Vulcan. This is about punishing yourself." I free my hand, using it to pull around your chin. "You're punishing yourself, aren't you? You don't grant yourself the joy you could feel. About all your achievements, about Daavid, your career...or about having me. But it doesn't have to be that way, Saavik. Let me make you feel again." I press my lips onto yours, ignoring the little flicker of defense I feel from you. Everyone yields to my kisses, I know, and so I'm giving you a first class treatment, the one I should've given you long ago. Long, burning, telling kisses nobody has received from me for a long time. But when I pull away, you stare at the ceiling, not meeting my eyes. "Saavik. I love you. I've learned that we could marry by Vulcan laws, and I'm willing to do it. We could be a family, Saavik." How could I come to think that with our lives' stories, we could ever be anything resembling a normal family? Must've gotten too old. I should've learned everything there is to learn about being disillusioned by now. But the gaze you finally give me and the words that follow teach me a new lesson. "I don't want to marry you," you say flatly. "Why not?" I ask, but you escape my grip. My hand comes to rest on the warm spot where you've been seconds ago, and I fear that the last thing I'll ever have from you is your scent on my bed. In a rush I stand up and corner you at the door. "Tell me, Saavik. Tell me why." I clutch your shoulders, but hold you at a distance so that I can see your face in the dying afternoon sun. It's more than just about you and me. This is about the universal woman in my life, the kind of woman who walks out on me without telling me why. Without giving me the chance to fix anything, because I never get to learn what is broken in the first place. As the silence deepens, all the past moments of silence multiply and grow with it. "Why can't you talk to me, Saavik?", I ask. "I understand that you don't love me...maybe you don't know how to love, or maybe you've never loved anyone more than David. Or Spock," my subconscious makes me add, and this is the moment where your face changes, your eyes dropping to some point on my chest. "That's it?" I ask blankly. "But then...why did you start something with me, Saavik? Why me?" I hear my pleading, and I hate myself for it. I'm an old fool and I didn't realize it for too long. My ego's one little pulp of hurt, and I'm tired. I let you free. "All right, I won't bother you anymore." The words hurt, but it has to be. I've said good-bye often enough to survive it. But it's not only you leaving, but with you my tiny little dream. And although you don't answer, I know that I've been your choice because I've been there when no one else was, not David, not Spock. I've been part of your chosen family, and so you've clung to the one connection to the life you've once had. Maybe I wouldn't mind if you said so. Maybe I would be satisfied with my role if you just said one little thing. Like "I'm sorry." But you leave, and I lose it all. Again. * TBC in Part 2/2 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ASCEM messages are copied to a mailing list. Most recent messages can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCEML. NewMessage: