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Date: Tue, 17 Feb 2004 23:29:23 -0600
Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW:"Never a Bride" 3/8 (TOS:K/S:NC-17)
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Never a Bride
Part 3 of 8

"Good lord."  Spock dared to look up then, and saw that she 
was as pale now as she had been red earlier.  He wondered if 
she would faint.  "That can't be legal."

Jim's peal of laughter startled Spock, making him jerk so that 
the tea slopped over the edge of his mug onto his hand.  He 
set the cup down abruptly, but Jim's laughter had already 
stopped and he had grabbed Spock by the wrist.  "Are you 
burned?"

"I do not believe so."

"Let's run that under cold water.  Come on, Spock."

He let Jim pull him to his feet and lead him into the kitchen, 
aware that Winona was following.  Jim thrust his hand under 
the faucet and turned the handle, and Spock gritted his teeth 
as the icy water cascaded down, washing away the tea and 
cooling the minor scald.  "It is not serious, Jim."

"I love your hands, Spock," Jim replied.  "Hold it under there 
for as long as you can stand it.  I know you hate cold."

"I have some ointment for burns, Jim.  Will that work on 
him?"

"Ask him, Mom."

Another moment of silence, but this time Spock did not let it 
go on.  "I do not think that it requires anything further in the 
way of treatment," he announced, shutting off the tap and 
pulling his wrist from Jim's grasp.  "It was clumsy of me.  I 
apologize for spilling the tea, Doctor Kirk, and hope that it 
will not stain the carpet."

He accepted a towel from Jim and blotted his hand dry.  
Across the room, Winona's face was as blank as a Vulcan's.  
He felt sad; this was important to Jim, and his mother was 
behaving very badly indeed.  "Perhaps I had better go after 
all, Jim." 

"Spock..." Jim took his shoulders and gazed into his eyes.  
"Yes, if you like.  This is all so unexpected, I'm very sorry.  
I'll get our bag and we'll head back to town."

"I did not say that you should go too, Jim."

"You're not leaving without me.  Not now, not ever."  He 
looked over at his mother and dropped his hands.  "Mom, I'm 
sorry you're reacting like this.  We wanted you to know 
before it gets into the news, which it no doubt will in a very 
few days.  I hope that you'll think about it... please think 
about it.  Spock is a part of my life now, and if you want to 
see me, you're going to have to accept that we come as a set.  
And always will."

"You have never even had a boyfriend before!  Or have 
you?"

"Spock's my first, and my last."  Spock almost smiled again, 
proud of his lover's courage and straightforward honesty.  "I 
hope that you will come to appreciate what a wonderful man 
he is."

"I... I need to think.  Don't leave, Jim.  Stay, let me think, let 
me talk to you.  To both of you.  I'm sorry, I realize I'm 
behaving badly.  It is a shock."

Jim relented immediately, Spock could feel it.  However, he 
characteristically checked Spock's comfort level before 
capitulating to his mother.  "Do you mind too much, Spock?  
I'd like to give Mom a chance to come to grips with this, and 
to get to know you.  But if you're too unhappy here, we'll 
go."

Spock shook his head.  "She is your mother.  You must give 
her the opportunity to understand your choices, our choices.  
My happiness is irrelevant as regards this issue; I shall be 
happy wherever you are.  But I wish to be of use to you, and 
to facilitate your contentment.  I will stay."

Jim's smile was like sunshine, and Spock felt warmed right 
through.  "Thank you."

"You are welcome."

     *

Jim knew that pushing Winona any further down the road to 
acceptance would be futile in Spock's presence, but he 
wasn't going to let Spock surrender the field, either.  He toted 
the suitcase upstairs to their room, and threw it onto the bed 
before flopping down beside it.  Spock, standing just inside 
the door, looked a little shell-shocked.

"I swear, Spock, I had no idea it would be this bad.  My mom 
has always been such a reasonable person!  Can you forgive 
me for subjecting you to all of this negative emotion?  It must 
be hell for you."

He saw Spock's smile begin, and the small shake of the head.  
"No, Jim.  Not hell.  Unexpected, considering she is the one 
who had the main role in forming your moral character."

"Strange, isn't it?  Look, I think it would be good for her to 
feel free to talk to me privately for a while, but after that 
business in the kitchen she won't feel safe talking anywhere 
in the house.  Do you mind if I ask her to go out for a walk 
with me?"

"No, I do not mind.  I think that may smooth the progress of 
her understanding, and her acceptance thereby."

"Thanks."  Jim bounded up and put his arms around Spock's 
waist, drawing the leaner man in for a hug.  The hardness of 
Spock's body, the scent of him, was always arousing, and 
Jim pushed himself away reluctantly.  "I would love to peel 
you down and make love to you."

"You are feeling a little bit insecure right now," Spock 
replied.

Jim had to laugh again.  He opened the suitcase and pulled 
out a sweater, which he tossed toward his lover.  "You're 
right.  Why are you always right?  Okay, I'll see you later.  
There are lots of books down in the living room, if you can't 
find anything on my shelves that interests you.  Make 
yourself at home.  We'll be back before dark, I'm sure.  Will 
you remember to feed the fire?"

Spock nodded solemnly at him.  Swallowing his anxiety, Jim 
left him pulling the sweater over his head and bounded down 
the stairs to find his mother.

It only took a few moments to convince her to walk with him.  
In stilted silence they pulled on coats, and Jim opened the 
front door for her.  "Shall we walk down to the river?"

"It's too cold to swim, even for you, Tadpole," she said, the 
outside air loosening her tongue.  Jim grinned and linked 
arms with her.

"Just to look.  I think about the river sometimes, when things 
get tough out there.  I imagine sitting on Flat Rock and 
watching the water, and it's as good as meditating.  Do you 
ever go down there on your own?"

Winona shook her head.  Jim matched his steps to her shorter 
strides.  There was a lot more grey in her hair now, he 
realized, looking down at her.  "I don't really.  After Sam and 
his family were killed, I stopped going.  I used to love 
bringing a picnic down there in the summer for the two of 
you.  There are too many memories, still.  Maybe next year."  
She stopped, and Jim checked his step and waited while she 
bent down and picked up a scrap of paper, which she thrust 
into her pocket.  "Where does litter come from?"

"They manufacture it on Tellus," Jim quipped, then held up 
his hands in surrender as his mother glared at him.  "I swear! 
I've been to a litter factory there!  They have a huge fleet of 
ships to distribute it throughout the Federation.  Tellerites are 
convinced that the galaxy would be better off if we all had 
the same thing to complain about!"

"Jim!"  She grabbed his arm and swung him around to her 
side, continuing to walk.  "Tell me about Spock."

"Oof."  Jim shrugged and grinned.  "Where to begin?  Well, 
to start with he was the first Vulcan to enter Starfleet, and he 
did it against his father's demands that he devote his life to 
the Vulcan Science Academy and then follow Sarek's 
footsteps into the Diplomatic Corps."

"Well, that tells me he's a brave and an obstinate man, so 
you're well suited in that at least."

"You have these ways of making me feel so young.  As in 
little.  I think all mothers do, don't they?"

"Speaking of mothers, what did Spock's mother think about 
Spock running away to join the navy?  I know she's a 
Human, Jim.  I told you I've seen him on FNN.  They make a 
big deal out of him being half-Human, but following Vulcan 
tradition."

Jim considered for a moment, and then shook his head.  "I 
don't really know what Amanda thinks about Spock's career.  
I've only met her once.  She's a lovely woman, a real lady, I 
think you would like her.  I know she loves Spock, but she 
also loves her husband.  Sarek, his name is.  He's... well, he'd 
remind you of the Vulcan you worked with at the research 
lab."

"Cold?"

"No, actually.  Sarek is very passionate, it shows in his 
actions and his work and his beliefs.  But he's hard and 
determined, and as controlled as most Vulcans are."  Jim 
scuffed his feet a couple of times.  They were entering the 
area of poplars that grew for a few hundred yards on either 
side of the river and the leaves were all yellow and shivering 
in the afternoon sun.  "When I first met Spock, when I took 
command of the Enterprise, I found him very intimidating.  
And so I decided to learn more about him so that he wouldn't 
intimidate me any more.  You ever do that?"

"Sure.  I know what you mean."

"Well.  I suppose I waged a campaign to become his friend.  
Started to play chess with him.  Joined him at meals.  Talked 
about things unrelated to the ship and the mission.  And the 
more I learned about him, the more valuable that prize of his 
friendship became.  God, he's smart, Mom!  And he cares, 
about everything he does. I don't know anyone else like him.  
When the day came that I could look at myself in the mirror 
and say that Spock was my friend, I felt as if I had really 
accomplished something."

"Were you lovers then?"

"No.  Vulcans don't have lovers, not the way Humans do."  
Jim knew he didn't want to get into Vulcan sexuality and 
that, by the private Tenets, he was forbidden to.  "They aren't 
casual about anything, Mom.  You'll never catch a Vulcan 
doing something that doesn't have meaning.  Their lives are 
about meaning, about making everything they do have a 
value for themselves and others.  And casual sex is one of the 
things they find most offensive about Human culture, 
actually."

"Huh.  You must have offended the hell out of him in the 
beginning."  She let go of Jim's arm as they came to the 
narrow and steep drop down to the river.  He fell in behind 
her, and jolted the six steps down to the bank.  When he was 
beside her again she was gazing up the river to Flat Rock, an 
erratic boulder that half-hung over the river and made a 
natural table.  He remembered, as she did, many happy times 
on that rock, and in that river, and in these woods.  His 
mother's voice interrupted his reverie.  "So, you're telling me 
that your relationship with him is a life-long, committed, 
married-type of relationship."

"That sums it up."

"And Starfleet is okay with this?"

"By the regulations, and our records, they have to be."  He 
bent and picked up a stone, tossed it casually at Flat Rock 
and watched it ricochet into the river. "The hell with 
Starfleet, I only care if you're okay with it, Mom.  After all, 
you're the only woman I've ever really loved."

"Oh Jim."  She put his arms around him and Jim hugged her 
back.  "It's an adjustment.  It is.  Are you sure he can give 
you what you need?"

"Certain.  Absolutely.  You can't imagine."

"Well, I'll try, Tadpole.  I promise to try."

"Thank you."  

     *

Winona looked from the strange alien man to her beautiful 
son again, and shook her head.  Spock wasn't even 
handsome, from her point of view.  He was green, what kind 
of Human could be attracted to a person with green skin?  It 
would be like forever looking at someone about to be 
seasick!  She shook her head and managed to thump the 
thought down and sit on it.  Jim was Jim.  He had always 
seen with his heart, and not his head.  It was part of what 
made him so loveable and so completely ungovernable.

His father had been like that.  George Kirk had been able to 
strike up a conversation with anyone, anytime, anywhere, 
regardless of what the other person looked like, what their 
species was, what their handicap was.  George Kirk had gone 
off to space and gotten himself killed by aliens, somewhere.  
They'd never even found his body.  Too damned trusting.  
He'd probably been reaching out to shake his murderer's 
hand when he'd been phasered out of existence.  

She looked out again from her seat on the porch.  Two days 
they had been here, and she supposed she was getting used to 
this stranger who was endlessly surprising her.  Just this 
afternoon Spock had been curious about the aqueduct, and 
had asked Jim to show it to him.  She had been unbelieving, 
and then astounded, that a non-Terran would have any 
understanding of, or interest in, Human artefacts, but he had 
seemed so sincere.  Jim's assessment of Spock's intellect was 
proving startlingly accurate.  Now he was examining the old 
rock pillars, his mittened hands running over them, throwing 
questions over his shoulder to her son.  Jim was an indecent 
hand span away, watching Spock as if he were god's own gift 
to the Iowa landscape.  

Well.  She supposed that in Jim's mind he was.  Winona 
sighed and pulled her jacket more tightly closed.  It was cool, 
late September.  Spock was bundled into one of Jim's old 
parkas with a scarf around his neck, a toque pulled over his 
ears, thick mittens on his hands and snow boots cushioning 
his feet.  A desert creature, Jim had said.  Creature.  Strange 
that Jim had used such a word, a word that echoed in 
Winona's mind.

The Vulcan at the Research lab had been the most stress-
making creature she had ever had to work with, in all her 
years of working with foreigners and aliens.  No one and 
nothing ever pleased him.  She had felt sick to her stomach 
for most of the two months he had been there.

Perhaps that was why the colour of Spock's skin nauseated 
her.  It obviously had a very different effect on Jim.

With another shrug of her shoulders, she accepted that 
Spock's skin colour was Jim's business.  He was the one who 
had to look at it every day for the rest of his life.  She 
wouldn't think about how that would be.  The truth was, one 
didn't really ever think of one's own son like that, whether 
his partner was a man or a woman; green, blue, or grey.

And it wasn't really that Spock was a green man, was it?  It 
was just... he was different.  He was too different from the 
ordinary, or even the extraordinary, women that Jim had 
previously been attracted to.  A pang of guilt ran through her.  
Had her beloved younger son always been homosexual, and 
had he always been suppressing it?  She knew he hadn't 
meant it when he'd said she was the only woman he had ever 
loved, but why then had there never been another man in his 
life?  Did it have anything to do with her expectations of 
him?

Spock straightened then and turned, with a look of surprise, 
toward her son.  She could hear Jim's clear laughter, and saw 
a look of pure tenderness come over the Vulcan's face.  It 
was shocking, in a way.  As if the house, or a stone, or her 
aircar, had uttered an endearing word to her.  She averted her 
eyes and stood up, just as the communicator in the living 
room chirped.  Glad of the distraction, she hurried into the 
house.

End part 3 of 8




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