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From: "Keith & Jessica Bratcher" <campbratcher@psci.net>
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Date: Thu, 29 Apr 2004 22:08:05 -0500
Subject: [ASCEM-S] REP TOS Sharing Memories [R] Sa/Mc 1/1
Reply-To: "Keith & Jessica Bratcher" <campbratcher@psci.net>
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(I am reposting this because I'll post the new sequel to it right 
behind, which makes not much sense without this story - Birgit :)

*****

Title: Sharing Memories
Author: Acidqueen  <a.q @ gmx.de>
Series: TOS
Pairings: Sarek/McCoy (S/Mc, K/Sa, K/Mc implied)
Rating: R (implied canon character death)
Summary: Sometimes healing needs unusual means.
belongs to the Sarek Fun Fest!
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 Selek for the beta! All remaining
errors are mine!

***

The funeral had been everything that could have been
expected - monumental for the hero of Starfleet who was lost
in action. The various speeches had challenged McCoy's mood,
so when the end came with a final choking minor key by the
orchestra, he hastily stood up and left the mess. He avoided
most offered handshakes, and was glad that he had already
said goodbye to his former colleagues. This allowed him to
leave quickly and when he wanted to. Even his groundcar was
parked at a special corner, unblocked by any other vehicles.
He got it and soon was slowly driving along the pavement
where the mourners were gathering.

In the distance, he caught a glimpse of Spock's father, with
who he had spoken briefly this morning, sensing grief and
loneliness even through the Vulcan's stony features. For all
the important people around him, Sarek looked lost in the
crowd, and in a sudden decision McCoy stopped his groundcar
next to him and opened the window. "Care to drive with me,
Ambassador?"

He half expected the Vulcan to decline his offer, but Sarek
nodded. "A moment please, Doctor," he said and took some
minutes to say goodbye to some colleagues and officials,
while McCoy hastily cleared the passenger seat from junk and
then opened the right door.

Pulling his robe together, Sarek eased himself into the
small car. Not for the first time, McCoy wondered where
Vulcans put all their stuff without bags or purses.

"Where are we going?" Sarek asked.

"Wherever you like," McCoy answered and put the vehicle in
gear.

The Vulcan gave him a sideward glance. "Where did you want
to go originally?"

"Home."

"What about the rest of your colleagues?"

"We've already met yesterday evening." McCoy eyed the
traffic signs. "I'll take the eastern highway. Fits all
destinations." Sharply accelerating, he forced the car into
a small hole in the traffic jam. "Sorry," he said half to
Sarek, half to the driver in his rearview mirror that he
appeased with a hand sign, "but it's rush hour."

"No need to apologize, Doctor."

McCoy locked the car to the electronic speed signal and
leaned back. "Well...if you don't have another destination,
I'd be happy to invite you to my place. I've some decent
coffee and tea and some vegetarian food in the fridge."

"Originally, I was expected at a gathering in the Federation
Hall, but your invitation is very acceptable, Doctor." Sarek
leaned back, too, folding his hands in his lap.

The characteristic movement made McCoy's heart ache
suddenly. He wouldn't have thought that he could ever miss
Spock as much as he did and, honestly, he would've preferred
not to be so dependent on Spock's nearness lately. From the
unexpected, happy bliss of their union on the Shoreleave
planet, to Spock's sudden departure to his first mission in
the Vulcan Diplomatic Corps, down to Jim's tragic loss in
action and the funeral, time was running on fast forward
lately. For all the security their bonding gave him, he felt
lonely and old right now, and was more than grateful to have
some company this evening.

Shortly after they reached their destination - an ugly
apartment block that stood dark, grey, and uninviting before
them. In contrast, McCoy's apartment was well-heated and
well-ordered - a streak he had "inherited" from Spock that
now considerably added to his relaxation. Never ever he
would have invited Sarek into his traditional bachelor
chaos.

"Make yourself comfortable," he said and waved toward the
couch. "Anything to drink? I've Vulcan spiced tea and even
some imported Saya. It's Spock's favorite--"

He stopped dead, realizing that he almost gave too much
away. The two times Spock and he had thought about telling
Sarek of their relationship, they each came up with good
reasons, or rather excuses. Fact was, both of them were
unsure how Spock's father would react and worse, how Spock's
new career could possibly be damaged by the news of a same-
sex union.

Sarek had remained in the middle of the room, eyes shifting
around without really looking. Now he turned his head to
meet his gaze. "Kirk was on Vulcan when he received the call
from Starfleet for the launch," he said slowly.

For a moment McCoy was irritated by the seemingly sudden
shift of subject, but then he understood. "Jim was with
you?" he said roughly. "Why?"

"For...various reasons," Sarek said. "One of them was his
frustration about Spock choosing another mate."

McCoy swallowed hard. "How did he know...? I mean, I didn't
know...I didn't want to know until Spock rubbed my nose into
the bonding stuff."

"I can imagine," Sarek said gravely. "I did not mean to
criticize you - if anyone, I would criticize Spock for not
speaking with any of you openly before."

McCoy sighed. "I wish Jim would've spoken his mind, but he
didn't either...and you can't force a man to do that." He
massaged his forehead. "Anyway, if we're going to talk about
all this, I better make tea now." He walked into the
kitchen, realizing that it was a very obvious escape, and
not at all surprised when Sarek followed him.

The Vulcan had shed the outer robe and wore only a shorter
tunic now, and without asking, he took the kettle, filled
it, and heated it.

McCoy, at his side, silently poured the Vulcan tea leaves
into some woven fleece to form a traditional tea bag. Then
he stared at the heating water, all too aware of the man
beside him.

As Sarek pulled the tea pot out of a hidden corner, McCoy
said in an attempt for humor, "I feel as if you've been here
already."

Sarek professionally cleaned the pot with three rinses of
cold water. "Your kitchen follows the traditional Vulcan
principles of order."

"Does it?" McCoy glanced around. "Didn't realize that."

"As does your living room," the Vulcan added. "Did my son
give you the ancient meditation pot?"

"No," McCoy replied. "Bought it years ago on a starbase.
Just felt right to have it. But I never lit it." The water
was ready, and he poured it over the leaves, happy to escape
Sarek's cross-examination for the moment.

The Vulcan collected the proper cups from the cupboard and
left the kitchen. When McCoy followed him a minute later,
for the first time ever there was a red flame flickering in
the pot.

In yet another deep silence, they knelt opposite to each
other at the low table and sipped the hot tea.

Finally McCoy cleared his throat. "Well, Ambassador--"

"Sarek," the Vulcan interrupted him.

"Well, then, Sarek...if you've any questions, I'll happily
oblige - or at least try to answer them."

The Vulcan put his cup at the table. "I apologize if I gave
you the impression that I have any intentions - or any
rights - to interrogate you, Doctor--"

"Leonard, please," McCoy said.

"Leonard." Sarek leaned back on his heels, his left hand
still resting on the table. The big red stone sparkled in
the unsteady light of the room, catching McCoy's gaze.

"I admit I have been wary of you. Although our paths have
crossed in the past, I have no deep knowledge of you. From
what I see here, I have underestimated the effects the
forced union of Spock's and your mind had on you."

"We have been joined ever since," McCoy simply said. "I
didn't want to realize it, but that's how it is."

"Then my son has chosen the only sensible mate," Sarek said.

"But that didn't help Jim in any way." McCoy slipped
backwards onto some cushions to relieve his legs from the
strain of kneeling. "Why did he come to Vulcan?"

Sarek's hand briefly stopped on its way to the tea cup, then
tightly closed around it. The hot material had to hurt even
a Vulcan, McCoy thought. "To offer his condolences. To offer
sympathy...and himself."

"But it didn't work out...?" McCoy asked cautiously.

"It was too early...I was still grieving over Amanda. I
still am today."

"Sometimes Jim could be quite pushy," McCoy mumbled and
stood up. "A drink for you, too? Or some saya, perhaps?"

"No, thank you," Sarek answered.

Silence rolled over them for another long moment before
Sarek spoke again. "Why did Spock not come for the funeral?"

"You tell me," McCoy said wearily, his back to the Vulcan as
he mixed another drink. "I thought the mission your
diplomatic corps gave him sent him too far away to arrive in
time."

Sarek's voice was overly sharp once more. "It would have
been costly and complicated, but I do not think that is a
sufficient explanation."

McCoy rotated his drink, evoking small tinkling sounds as
the ice cubes touched the glass. "Well...another reason...as
far as I understand...is that he doesn't believe Jim's
dead."

"Why not?"

McCoy shrugged and sipped his drink, then turned around to
face the Vulcan. "Once, in the past, we thought Jim was
lost...the only one who didn't was Spock. I'm not sure if he
really knows something or feels any connection, but it made
the ceremony today more bearable to me to have that flicker
of hope."

"It is illogical to deny his death," Sarek stated.

"As illogical as Spock's, and Jim pulled a stunt to save us
both, nevertheless," McCoy retorted harshly, then sat down
heavily. "Dammit, Sarek, it's not a good evening to quarrel
with me about Spock's behavior or points of view. We may be
together now, but I'm not and never was his keeper. So mind
your own business about him."

The Vulcan tilted his head. "I apologize, Leonard. I am not
my usual controlled self...Kirk's death came...too
unexpected."

"Yeah," McCoy agreed and took a bigger gulp of his drink. He
swallowed hastily, enjoying the almost painful burning in
his throat. "I wish I could believe he's alive, but I can't.
Deep inside of me I know that this time his lucky streak
ended. He was alone out there...Spock wasn't there to save
his ass...I had no chance to put him together again in any
sickbay..."

He drowned the rest of the drink and hastily stood up for
another. But as he reached for the bottle, a hand lay upon
his.

"Leonard...no one could know this would happen."

"That's my apartment and my bar, so don't keep me from
drinking if I want to." Roughly shaking Sarek's hand off,
McCoy poured himself another drink.

"I should have held him back," quiet words reached his ear.
"I should have kept him on Vulcan, should for once have
claimed him, taken him up on the offer he had never given
before. But I could not. And so he left with the promise to
come back. But he did not."

McCoy stared into the blue liquid in his hand. "It was the
launch of the Enterprise B. He'd never have stayed with you.
A small part of him always hoped to get her back...or
another one." The vision of his drink blurred from
accumulating tears, and he hastily blinked them away before
raising the glass.

"To you, Jim. Damn best captain of the 'Fleet ever."

He swallowed it down in one gulp.

"I've known him for decades...long before he was that
captain," McCoy went on, pouring another drink. At his side,
he could feel Sarek's body heat, so much like Spock's. "Long
before. He was still at the academy, a boy, but never really
green..."

"Share with me, Leonard," Sarek's voice made it to his ears.

He looked up, meeting the Vulcan's gaze.

"Share those memories with me, Leonard," Sarek repeated.
"Please."

"How?" McCoy asked, already knowing the answer.

"A light meld, only superficially."

"You're asking for quite an intimate thing, Sarek," he
murmured.

"I do not ask for it - I beg you to do me this favor. I am
well aware this is not...standard procedure. But I find that
this loss is even harder to bear than Amanda's, in a way..."
Sarek's gaze shifted away from him, fixing on one of the
colorful bottles that stood at the bar. "With Amanda, I have
shared my whole life. With Kirk, only rare, precious
moments..."

"And now that you want more, that son of a bitch pissed
off," McCoy stated roughly. "Sorry, just my own pain
speaking." He put the glass down on the nearest table and
walked over to the window.

He stared outside. Not quite the view of Jim's or Spock's
apartment, as he had originally chosen this relatively cheap
apartment only for intermediate use. This had been some
twenty years ago. And Jim had stayed here for more than one
night...

"Leonard--"

He knew Sarek would announce his departure now - and he
realized he didn't want him to leave.

"Stay, Sarek," he said and turned around. "Stay and...share
with me, too."

He saw the Vulcan frown, and gravely shook his head. "Heck,
Sarek, Jim and I have been lovers on and off for some years.
What you'll read in my mind is surely as intimate as I'll
read in yours - maybe more so. I'm not willing to give you
your consolation and remain depressed tonight."

A small smile lingered on Sarek's lips. "I have never seen
you in your caustic mood before, but its reputation is well
deserved."

"Let's sit down," McCoy mumbled and took place on the couch,
ignoring the statement.

"Two opposite chairs would be preferable," the Vulcan
stated.

"I've had too many uncomfortable melds in my life," McCoy
grumbled. "I chose the couch."

With what came dangerously close to a sigh, Sarek sat down
too, shifting around to face him.

"Superficially, you said?" McCoy murmured as hot fingers
centered on his meld points, forming the well-known pattern.

// Superficially, // someone agreed already inside of him.
// But I had not expected such an easy meld. //

// Too many Vulcans fussing around in there all my life, //
the caustic thought traveled through their joined minds.

// Relax and concentrate on your memories with him. //

That was the easiest thing, McCoy thought. In the last few
days, there had been little else in his mind besides Jim
Kirk...how he had looked at their first encounter, so young
and innocent - an innocence his lifestyle belied even
then...the young lieutenant, coming back to Earth more dead
than alive, the funeral already planned when the physicians
finally put him together again...the self-assured captain,
who for all his control had never really learned when to
back away from an imminent danger... a man McCoy would
follow into anything, grumbling and beefing all the while...
a man who charmed women even in the depths of that
godforsaken hellhole of Rura Penthe...

Other thoughts took over, lacing with his...the not so self-
assured captain, facing a very unusual offer one night on
the observation deck...wanting a Vulcan, getting another one
- more than he had bargained for, less than he had craved
for...the admiral on Earth, his pain hidden under tight
layers of self-control, erecting walls that fell for a while
under the influence of another shared night...only to be
erected again when his friends' fate and his own were at
stake...the hero who wanted to make no more decisions for
once.

// Perhaps I made him stronger than he was, because I wanted
him to be, // McCoy wondered deep in his mind.

//Perhaps I made him weaker than he was, because I wanted to
have a reason to leave him again. //

// Leaving... //

// Always leaving... //

// This time he was the one...//

//...to leave. //

The fragile net of minds laced shook under the impact of the
thoughts they formed together.

// We left him, // a human whispered into the shaking
structure.

Vulcan words swelled up, painfully. // I left him because I
let him leave again. //

// Fate, Sarek. //

// There is no fate. //

// There is no logic in our guilt either, // McCoy pushed
forcefully.

More pictures tumbled between them - memories of the first
missions, of successes and near losses, of Kirk half dead in
sickbay and glorious on the bridge - and of Kirk in his
private moments, eyes lazily half-closed in satiation, a
naked body sprawled on a bed, tousled dark-blond hair on a
cushion...

...Kirk kneeling over a couch on a dark observation deck,
taut muscles straining as he offered himself...Kirk's body
gleaming in sweat as he rocked between someone's legs...a
head bent down over a groin, capturing and evoking heat
likewise...

...a heat that was between them now...between...Sarek and
him, McCoy realized. For a brief moment, he wanted to stop
the obvious development, to prevent what would inevitably
happen if they pursued this course. But he had seen the raw
pain inside of Sarek, and he wasn't able to walk away from
it. Not as healer, not as...friend.

Their minds were still locked as he leaned over, wordlessly
conveying what he was about to do, and Sarek shifted with
him. Their bodies stretched out on the couch, who atop of
whom, neither knew. Rocking against each other, their minds
reveled in more memories of Kirk, and in the end he seemed
to be there with them as they climaxed. Still breathing hard
they relaxed against the armrest in an awkward embrace,
rapidly cooling wetness between their clad groins.

Sarek was the first one to regain his strength. He pulled
himself up, bringing McCoy into the seated position as well.

"Leonard, I apologize," he said roughly. "I lost control. I
must be out of my mind..." He tried to get up, but McCoy
held him back.

"I could've stopped it, but I didn't. So blame me, if you
need someone to blame."

Sarek stared at him in disbelief. "Why did you not?"

"It felt the right thing to do," McCoy said. "One of my
illogical decisions."

Thankfully, Sarek didn't ask the obvious question, because
McCoy definitely didn't have any good answers tonight. He'd
deal with the aftermath...especially considering
Spock...later.

Shakily he stood up. "I'll go and change my clothes. And
then I'll make a coffee. Do you need a towel?" The orgasm
had been incredible, and it was as if the low, rumbling
aftershocks of an earthquake still went through his body,
impairing his balance and his straight thinking.

"I am coming with you," Sarek stated.

Ten minutes later they sat on the neutral ground of the
kitchen, both clutching a coffee, although the Vulcan only
stared into the black liquid without drinking it.

"I need to go to the embassy, Leonard," he finally said,
breaking the silence. "They await me."

"When duty calls, duty shall be followed," McCoy said
lightly, playing with the cup of coffee in his hand to whirl
white stripes of milk away. "Will you come back tomorrow?"

Sarek raised a brow. "For what?"

"For all the talking we didn't do tonight?"

"A logical suggestion," Sarek said slowly. "However, I am
not convinced that it would be wise."

McCoy placed the cup away and stood up. "Here," he said and
gave Sarek a small piece of paper. "That's the key number
for the building and the apartment. Come if you want to. If
not, that's fine too. Your decision." He didn't know if it
was wise either, but it was worth a try.

The next evening, Sarek came back.

*

It was a sunny, though cool morning, as McCoy drove Sarek to
Space Ground Station SFA for the departure to Vulcan - three
days later than Sarek had originally intended to leave. Side
by side they climbed the stairs in silence and went through
the main door of the station. In front of the checkpoint
Sarek finally stopped, clearing his throat before turning
toward his companion. "I offer thanks, Leonard. For
everything."

McCoy gave him a coy smile. "I was glad to be of help."

"And you are sure that you do not wish me to talk to
Spock...to explain?"

"He knows my heart, Sarek. He will understand." McCoy said
softly. He offered his hand, and for once the Vulcan took
it, touching a hand in the human way in public. It was a
handclasp of friends - intense, but neither too short nor
too long - then McCoy stepped back, releasing his grip.
"Take care, Sarek. And please, don't stay alone."

Sarek laced his fingers together forcefully, burying them
into the robe to hide their slight shaking. "I will not,
Leonard," he said hoarsely.

The speaker squeaked dreadfully and then announced the
shuttle service to the moon, where the flight to Vulcan
would start from.

"I'm not good at saying good-bye," McCoy said lightly, "so I
better go now. I'll contact you soon, okay?"

"Agreed, Leonard."

McCoy nodded and then went away quickly. For a moment Sarek
looked after him, then turned and went through the
checkpoint for the shuttle. It was quite empty, but the
place next to him was booked by a woman who, in clothing and
behavior, almost seemed to be Vulcan, had it not been for
her round ears. Normally he would have silently opened his
organizer and started to work, probably even chosen another
place for optimal solitude, but today, he preferred pleasant
company.

He tilted his head in a greeting gesture, and she looked up
inquiringly. "As I appear to be your neighbor for the next
hour, I would like to introduce myself. I am Sarek."

Her hand went up, long fingers unconsciously shifting a
curly strand of hair away as she fully met his gaze. "Nice
to meet you, Sarek. My name is Perrin."

*****




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