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Date: Tue, 17 Feb 2004 23:28:52 -0600
Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW:"Never a Bride" 2/8 (TOS:K/S:NC-17)
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Never a Bride     *
Part 2 of 8

Spock stood stiffly beside the aircar as Winona Kirk ran 
down the steps of the old wood frame farmhouse and flung 
her arms around her son.  Jim hugged her and spun her 
around, both of them talking at once.

"Jimmy, it's so good to see you, I wasn't sure if they'd let 
you take the time..."

"Mom, you look great, you get younger every year..."  Spock 
observed, trying and failing to imagine he and Amanda in a 
similar embrace.  Eventually Jim set Doctor Kirk down and 
kissed her cheek, smiling broadly.  "I'm glad to be home."

"I'm glad you're here!"  She glanced over his shoulder at 
Spock and her smile faltered.  Spock inclined his head 
slightly as Jim turned toward him and beckoned with a hand.

"Spock, come meet my mother.  Mom, you've heard about 
him in dozens of letters over the last three years.  My first 
officer, Commander Spock."

The hesitation in the woman's stance was not lost on Spock.  
He schooled himself to remain absolutely neutral in stance 
and speech, and raised his right hand in the ta'al.  "An 
honour to meet you, Doctor Kirk.  Live long, and prosper."

She blinked back at him, and then smiled.  The smile seemed 
forced to Spock, but he reminded himself that he was, likely, 
the first Vulcan she had encountered.  She pushed a lock of 
hair back from her forehead, the gesture remarkably like 
Jim's own, and nodded at him.  "Commander Spock.  I have 
heard a great deal about you."  She turned back to her son.  
"Jim, you should have told me you were bringing a friend.  
The spare room is full of junk for the benefit fair next 
weekend, and I never replaced the bed in Sam's old room 
after the raccoons last year!"

"That's okay, Mom.  Spock and I will share my room.  We're 
used to it."

Spock saw that Jim's mother did not like the sound of that at 
all.  Her smile faded, and her stare did not appear the least bit 
friendly to him.  "Well, I guess I can pull the cot in there 
from the attic."

"Let's worry about that later, shall we?" Jim stooped down 
and picked up the suitcase, smacking Spock's hand away in 
the process and grinning at him.  Startled, Spock stood up 
again and wrapped his arms around himself. Winona was 
staring at him again as Jim continued.  "I'm cold, and if I'm 
cold Spock must be freezing.  Can we make a pot of tea and 
talk in front of the fire?"

Winona finally looked away from him and gazed at her son.  
"Of course.  Come in.  Did I mention in my last letter that the 
Drakes have revived an old breed of Percherons on their 
spread?  Beautiful animals, we should go over and see them.  
You always appreciated a good horse."

"I prefer riding horses to workers," he said.  He looked over 
his shoulder at Spock and smiled.  "Come in, Spock.  I 
guarantee you'll like the temperature inside a lot more."

Looking at the frozen expression on Winona Kirk's face, 
Spock doubted it, but he dutifully followed Jim up the stairs 
and through the front door.  

Inside the big living room he crossed to the blazing fire and 
held his hands out, imitating Jim, while Winona stood and 
gazed from one to the other.  Finally she cleared her throat.  
"Jim, will you help me in the kitchen?  I made bread this 
morning, and I haven't had lunch.  How about a sandwich?"

"Sure, Mom."  Jim clapped a hand on his shoulder, and the 
warmth of his affection came through like a healing promise.  
Spock relaxed.  "Spock, you stay here and get warmed up."

"Thank you, Jim."

"No problem.  Hey, Spock's a vegetarian, Mom, but a cheese 
sandwich would be good, he eats dairy.  Got anything good?"

Their voices faded slightly as the Humans walked into the 
next room and the door shut behind them.  Spock bent to take 
another log off of the woodpile and add it to the fire, listening 
carefully to the distant conversation.  Winona would be 
ignorant of the keen nature of Vulcan hearing, but Jim was 
not.  He would know that Spock was eavesdropping on him.  
He might be counting on it.

"Find whatever you want in the fridge.  Jim, I'm a bit 
surprised that you brought him with you.  Doesn't he have 
people in Seattle or something?  I'm sure you told me that."

Spock wondered at the content of some of Jim's letters home.  
He settled cross-legged on the floor close to the fire and 
leaned his back against the couch, listening to Jim's reply.  "I 
wanted you to meet him, Mom.  He's very important to me.  
Don't you like being able to put a face to the name?"

"Lord knows I've seen his face enough on FNN, Jim.  You're 
cutting that too thick."

"I like a thick sandwich, especially with your homemade 
bread.  There, that one can be for you, is it thin enough?  Has 
this mayo got eggs in it, or... ah, no, that's safe.  I'm 
surprised, Mom, you used to like meeting my friends."

"Your friends, yes.  Your Vulcan first officer is a different 
kettle of fish, son.  And don't look at me like that, I know 
what they're like.  Vulcans!  I had to work with one of them 
at the Research Station a couple of years ago."

Spock felt a chill, despite the fire.  He recognized animosity 
in the Human woman's voice now.  There was a pause, and 
Spock imagined Jim staring at his mother incredulously.  His 
response verified the image.  "Mom, you sound as if you 
actively dislike Vulcans.  How can that be?"

"What's to like?  They're cold, mean, callous and snobbish.   
Why, I've seen one discuss the agony of a severely wounded 
heifer as casually as if he were discussing the weather.  Not a 
smidgen of empathy.  Not a caring bone in their bodies."

"All I can say to that is you are dead wrong."  There was an 
edge in Jim's voice that Spock recognized.  He flinched 
slightly, wondering if Winona heard it and if she knew what 
it meant.  Jim was supremely angry.  "I hope that you'll learn 
differently over the next couple of days.  Spock is an integral 
part of my life.  Don't you trust my ability to judge character, 
to choose my friends?  You used to."

"Maybe you've been out in space among all those aliens for 
too long."

"And maybe you've been in this parochial backwater, stuck 
among self-satisfied Humans for too long."  

"Jim!  How dare you!"

Spock felt his eyes widen.  The conversation was getting very 
heated.  "Mom, I'd like you to remember that I am the 
captain of the Fleet's flagship, in command of 430 persons on 
missions that would, frankly, curl your hair if you knew the 
details.  And of those 430, 117 people are not Humans.  I 
trust every one of them to do their jobs and to get along with 
the others in the crew.  In fact, my crew is regularly reviewed 
with the highest ratings for teamwork of any Starship crew in 
the Fleet.  I like them and I respect them, Human and non-
Human alike.  And as to the alien in the next room; he has 
been directly responsible for saving my life on more 
occasions than I want to tell you about."  Jim fell silent.  
Spock knew he was seething, he could feel it in the way his 
internal link to his bondmate was trembling.

"Well," Winona began, her voice unsure.  "I'm glad that he's 
a useful shipmate, son.  But I don't have to like him.  Lord 
knows he'd never return the favour!  Vulcans can't, you 
know."

"Vulcans can't like people?"  Jim's laugh stopped Spock as 
he was about to stand up and prepare to leave the house.  
That Jim was still able to laugh was a good sign, and he 
settled back against the couch.  He could feel Jim's effort to 
control his anger, and was pleased for him when his next 
question came out sounding relatively normal.  "Do you want 
pickles, Mom?"

"Please.  I'm sure there's a bottle of my spicy dills from last 
season, back of the top shelf."

"Okay.  Now, I'm only going to say this once, Mom.  You 
are as fundamentally wrong about Spock as it is possible to 
be.  He is perfectly capable of liking, or disliking, another 
person.  And that like or dislike is based on the person's 
personality and their treatment of him and those around him, 
just as yours would be.  And I seriously doubt he'll like you 
very much after what you just said about him and his 
people."

"You won't tell him!  That would be rude, Jim, and cruel."

"I don't have to tell him, Mom.  Vulcans have the best 
hearing of any bipedal hominid-type sentient species in the 
Federation.  In fact, I'll be surprised if I don't find him 
waiting by the front door to bid you goodbye.  He's always 
polite, even when he has been called... what was it?  Cold, 
mean, callous and snobbish?"

Jim came through the kitchen door then, carrying a tray 
heaped with sandwiches.  He winked at Spock, and set the 
tray on the table beside him.  There was silence from the 
kitchen.  Spock waited, unsure what Jim wanted him to do.

Jim himself didn't seem to know.  He gazed at Spock for a 
long minute, and then grinned.  "Frying pan and fire scenario, 
phase two," he announced, and settled on the couch so that 
his left leg was pressed against Spock's side.  Through the 
physical contact Spock could feel his shame.

"It is not your fault, Jim.  Perhaps I should leave."

"Please don't, unless you can't stand it.  I know this has 
made you very uncomfortable."

"It has made you uncomfortable as well, though not nearly as 
uncomfortable as it has made your mother.  It was unfair of 
you to continue that conversation when you knew I could not 
avoid listening."

The kitchen door opened and Winona appeared, her face 
bright red.  "He has always been sneaky, Commander 
Spock," she said stiffly.  Spock moved to stand up, a gesture 
of respect for elders ingrained in him from his youth, but Jim 
put a hand on his shoulder and restrained him, albeit gently.

"Stay seated, Spock," Jim said softly.  

Spock subsided, accustomed to following orders from this 
man, and let Jim's leg rest against his side again.  Such a 
display, in any other situation, would have been impossible 
for him.  Here and now it felt exactly right.  It was calming to 
his body.  He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying 
to calm his mind as well, as Jim continued.

"Mom, if you're willing to suspend that prejudice in favour 
of learning more about my friend, we'll stay.  Otherwise, I'm 
sorry, but we'll just return to the ship.  I won't have your 
mistaken ideas ruining what may be my last days ashore with 
him before our mission resumes."

His hand had stayed on Spock's shoulder.  Spock felt a gentle 
squeeze, and hoped that Jim was aware of the affection and 
support he was sending back to him.  It was likely; Jim had 
become adept at interpreting Spock's emotions through their 
bond.  He glanced up at Jim and saw the resolute look on the 
handsome face, then he turned and gazed at Winona.

The moment stretched out, and the hand on his shoulder 
remained.  After a minute Winona walked over and sat down 
in the chair furthest from the fire.  "I'm sorry you heard all 
that, Commander Spock," she said stiffly.  Spock considered.  
Not 'I am sorry I said it' but 'I am sorry you heard it'.  Not 
really an apology, as he understood apologies.  More a 
statement of embarrassment at having been caught in a social 
faux pas.

"I, also, am sorry that I heard you, Doctor Kirk.  I regret 
hearing any being judging another so harshly, on such 
superficial acquaintance.  Perhaps it is a part of your 
character that inclined you to work with animals in 
preference to people."

He could feel Jim's incredulous surge of delight, as Winona's 
mouth opened soundlessly, and then closed.  She returned his 
gaze for a moment, and then said tightly, "Did you just insult 
me in my own home?"

"No, I merely stated an hypothesis regarding the possible 
effects of your personal outlook as regards your career 
choices.  I believe that I was the one who was insulted in 
your home.  On Vulcan such a disregard for the rules of 
hospitality would be unthinkable.  However, it was partly 
Jim's fault for not warning you about the superiority of 
Vulcan hearing."  He looked up at Jim.  "You did not tell me 
that your mother carried such strong opinions about non-
Terrestrial persons, Jim."

"I am just as surprised as you are, Spock.  When we were 
growing up Mom always talked about the basic equality of 
all people.  She must have encountered a lulu of a Vulcan at 
the Research lab to form such a nasty opinion of your 
species.  Who was it, Mom?"

Winona covered her confusion by reaching for a sandwich 
and then shoving the tray closer to the men.  "I never could 
pronounce his name.  'S' something."

"Uh-huh."  Jim picked up a sandwich and handed it to Spock.  
"Cheese and lettuce with mustard and pickles."

"Thank you, Jim."

"See, now, that S, that Vulcan at the lab, he would never say 
'thank you', or anything else pleasant.  Just stare at you like 
you were dirt."

"I recall my own confusion when I was first exposed to the 
illogical conversational methods that Humans employ," 
Spock said thoughtfully, watching the fire again.  "Thanks 
are illogical, if every person does his or her duty according to 
the Tenets.  The existence of such a phrase in Standard 
indicates to me that the normal mode of conduct on Terra is 
for people not to do their duty by others, or why would a 
behaviour reinforcing statement be required when they do?"

"Spock, don't go all Pavlovian on me."

"Jim..."  Spock felt the pressure on his side increase, and 
glanced up at his mate before addressing Doctor Kirk again.  
"There is no 'small talk' on Vulcan, Doctor Kirk, nor any 
phrase that could be considered equivalent to the phrase 
'small talk'.  Greetings such as 'good morning' or 'how are 
you today' and so on are a waste of thought and energy.  It 
has taken me many years of living among Humans and other 
aliens to learn to navigate the conversational pitfalls that 
most of my people find simply inexplicable."

"No kidding," Jim said, laughing.  "Three years ago you 
couldn't have come up with a phrase like 'navigate the 
conversational pitfalls'."

"Do not tell Doctor McCoy.  It would spoil his impression of 
me."

"I won't.  It's too much fun watching you tease him."

"It is fun teasing him," Spock conceded.  "Doctor Kirk, the 
ruling principles of my people regard the expression of 
emotion as, at the very least, in extremely poor taste and at 
the worst a sign of insanity.  Thus you will rarely, if ever, see 
a Vulcan smiling, or frowning, or laughing, or crying.  The 
philosophies of Surak work very well within our culture, 
making Vulcan the most peaceful world within the 
Federation.  However, it is a sad fact that most Humans 
interpret the lack of expression of emotion as the lack of 
emotion itself."

Silence fell.  Spock bit into his sandwich, chewed and 
swallowed.  "The bread is very good," he offered.

Winona, eating her own sandwich, blinked at him, and then 
looked at her son, and then very pointedly at the hand Jim 
still had resting on Spock's shoulder.  Jim seemed to catch 
her gaze and looked down, then smiled and continued eating 
his sandwich.

Spock maintained his peace.  He had spoken enough for now.  
It was up to Jim to steer the meeting in the direction he 
wanted it to go.

The silence stretched to the point of discomfort, and then was 
slowly infiltrated by a sharply rising whistle from the 
direction of the kitchen.  Winona stood up abruptly and 
walked away, and once the door to the kitchen had closed 
behind her the irritating whistle abruptly died. 

"You made her think, anyway, Spock," Jim said, snagging 
another sandwich.

"As did you," he replied.  "At what portion of the 'frying pan 
and fire' scenario are we now?"

To his pleasure Kirk chuckled merrily.  "Well, she really got 
off on the wrong foot with you, so let's give her a little time 
to regroup and see if she comes around.  This is more of a 
'watching to see which way she jumps' scenario, at this 
point."  Spock fought his amusement at Jim's wonderful use 
of colloquialisms.  He knew Jim employed them naturally, 
and was pleased that Jim was so very relaxed in his company 
that he never bothered to explain himself any more unless 
asked.  He bit into a second sandwich and leaned against 
Jim's leg.  Jim stroked his hair absently and then let his hand 
return to Spock's shoulder.

"I concur.  And you make a very good sandwich, Jim.  
Employing pickles in this fashion is not something that 
would occur to me.  However, the result is most enjoyable."

Winona had returned as he spoke, carrying a small tray on 
which a teapot and three mugs were perched.  She smiled, a 
small smile but genuine.  "That's an old family tradition, 
Commander.  Pickles and cheese.  Comes from our ancient 
Scottish heritage, I think."

"Scottish?"  He watched her set down the tray and then fill 
the three mugs.

"Kirk is a Scottish name," Jim responded.  "It means 
'church'.  And Mom's name before she took Dad's was 
McBride.  But the Kirk family has been on this farm for 
centuries.  We're no more Scottish today than you are, 
Spock.  Thanks, Mom," he said, accepting a mug from her.  
Spock reached out as well, taking the offered second mug.

"Thank you, Doctor Kirk.  Is that peppermint?"

"Among other things," she answered.  She sat back in her 
chair and looked from one man to the other.  "Jim, there's 
something you're not telling me, and I want a straight 
answer."

"Yes, Mom?"  Spock marvelled at the level of innocence in 
Jim's voice.

"Grown men with a professional relationship, regardless of 
their friendship, do not sit like that.  Especially not Vulcans.  
One thing I do know about Vulcans is that they don't like to 
be touched."

Spock froze, eyes locked on the fire.  The heat of Jim's leg 
against his side was suddenly very intense.  He heard Jim sip 
his tea and knew that the mother and son were staring at each 
other, hard.  "I didn't hear a question there, Mom."

"Jim, you and your first officer are more than just shipmates, 
or even friends.  It's painfully obvious."

"Why 'painfully', Mom?"  The hard edge was there again.  
"But yes, you're right.  We are significantly more than just 
friends.  We are, in fact, bonded partners and plan, in fact, to 
spend the rest of our lives together.  I thought that you would 
be pleased for me, and that you would welcome Spock, but 
after your little diatribe earlier I wonder if that will ever 
happen."

End part 2 of 8



[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]



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