Sulu stared at the golden capsule in his hand. Jeremy waited expectantly. He knew full well what amber would do to him if he let it. It obviously wasn't what Jer was expecting. And obviously what Ruth had. Fool. Not perfect, not by any means. But then civilized Federation women didn't fight for what was theirs, did they? Have a good time. Liar. Federation. The same thing. You'll get what you want, Jer. And what your counterpart deserves.
       Watching the anticipation growing in Jeremy's dark eyes, he swallowed the capsule.

       The kiss was paradise. Jeremy's mind and heart were consumed by the fierce joy. It wasn't Kam, but it was, in a way he could neither explain nor fully comprehend. There had been no chance for a goodbye, but Jeremy intended to make his hello atone for that. He wanted nothing but to have Sulu in his arms again. He'd never wanted anything as badly - except maybe that first time so many years ago. He'd been fourteen, Sulu sixteen. They'd grown up together in Los Angeles, as close as friends could be. When Sulu discovered sex, he shared his knowledge with his friend. And when he discovered bisexuality, he shared that as well.
       Jeremy clung to the hard, firm body, caressing Sulu with passionate adoration. He knew, of course, that this wasn't his lifetime friend, but the body was the same, the features, the touch - and it had hurt so badly to lose him. He whispered Sulu's name, waiting for the amber to take him. He'd shared that too; drugs, and the one Sulu had became an habitual user of. He'd been a gentle lover, but he'd always had an undercurrent of violence. Amber let him release it and Jeremy had reveled with him in its freedom. He wanted desperately to revel in it again.
       Sulu's embrace became suddenly harsh and Jeremy smiled. Kam was cruising now, and soon it would begin. He held on more tightly, nearly breathless in his anticipation.
       And then Sulu pulled away.
       "What...?" Jeremy began. Sulu's voice was dark and strangely hoarse.
       "I don't want you," he said.
       "Sulu, I don't..."
       "I said I don't want you."
       Tears came to Jeremy's eyes. "But... you... I love you." Sulu's hand softly caressed his cheek.
       "I'm sorry, Jer. I don't love you."
       Then he turned and was gone, leaving Jeremy too full of renewed grief to even try to follow.

       After Sulu and Jeremy left, and the initial pain of jealousy and loss had passed, Ruth wondered if she had made a mistake. Maybe she should have insisted on going with then, or called the ship or Base Security to tell them what Sulu was doing. No, she decided, Sulu's not a criminal, he has a right to privacy and freedom. No matter how much it hurt her, there was no reason for him not to be left alone with someone else. Besides, Jeremy was a security officer, trained to take care of himself. And if the amber worked the way she hoped - She had to swallow a sob when she thought about that. She had wanted it to be for her. Selfish, aren't you? He has to know that it's his life, his decisions. It's your fault if you fell in love. Damn you, Jeremy Paget!
       Not his fault, either. He doesn't know how you feel about this Sulu; you and his Sulu were never a couple.
       "Shit," she muttered, ordered herself another glass of ycasan wine, and wondered what to do with herself in the empty hours ahead. Trying not to think about Sulu was a priority. It was also something she knew she couldn't do.
       When the wine came Ruth paid for it but didn't drink it. She stared at it, seeing nothing in the clear blue liquid. She wasn't even reminded of Antares, as she normally was when she drank its native wine. All she could think of was Sulu. "It is," she muttered at the glass, "all I can ever think of, possibly all I will ever be able to think of," She sighed, gave a mental shrug. Well, that's what being in love's about, isn't it?
       Valley, you're being banal. Sulu is not the sort of person to be banal about.
       What is he, then?
       With Jeremy.
       Not where, what?
       On amber.
       Yeah. Shit. My gamble. He'll do what he wants.
       Forget it, I can't handle it.
       She stood up and started walking in the direction they had gone. You aren't going to find him, you know.
       Oh yes I am. I'm a telepath, remember?
       She followed her instincts to a luxurious, expensive hotel. Gritting her teeth and ignoring the lump that suddenly formed in her throat, she made herself walk into the lobby. She was concentrating so hard on not feeling the stinging ache that she didn't notice Sulu until she had nearly bumped into him.
       He stared expressionlessly at her. She cleared her throat with difficulty.
       "I - wanted to - uh - leave word for you - " The lie fell flat. Sulu didn't even blink. "Where's Jeremy?"
       "I left him." The words were measured, clipped. Ruth forced herself to speak again.
       "Did you...?"
       Sulu turned and the question died. He grasped her arm so harshly it made her jump. He moved to the desk, and she followed with no protest.
       "A suite," was all he said, and she shivered.

       Ruth closed the door of the suite behind her, then slowly turned and tried to meet Sulu's eyes. He'd taken the amber, she could tell that much by the glow. But he seemed so cold, so distant.
       His voice was very soft. "I'm angry with you," he said.
       She swallowed. Maybe she'd been wrong about amber's effects. "I didn't mean to..." she began.
       "You lied to me." He took a step toward her.
       "Lied...?"
       "You didn't want me to have a good time. You didn't want me to leave you."
       "I wanted... it was your choice. I had no right..."
       "No. You only have rights you can hold on to. You didn't even try."
       She swallowed again. "I didn't think you'd..."
       "You won't fight for me."
       "Fight?"
       He came closer. "Don't I mean that much to you?"
       "Mean that... Sulu, I..." She was getting confused.
       "I fight for you, you belong to me. You mean that much to me."
       Ruth blinked. "Sulu?" He took another step, his body now almost touching hers.
       "I'm so angry, Ruth, that I would kill you," he said, "if I didn't love you so much."
       Before she could even begin an answer he was kissing her. It was warm and sweet and gently passionate with an undertone of sorrow. He pulled her into an embrace of tenderness and quiet need, then whispered sadly.
       "Is this what you wanted, Ruth? To see me weak and helpless before what I feel? To know I'll never leave you, won't let you leave me? To know that I want you and need you and would be lost and aching without you? To know I can't even hurt you for how you've hurt me? How many times should I say it, Ruth? How long will you make me amuse you with my secret? I love you. I can love, I do love, I care... I care and I'm lost... Gods, Ruth, I love you."
       Then she felt tears falling to her shoulders and realized the arms around her were shaking. Tears filled her own eyes as she made a second realization. This was what she had wanted, and now didn't have the slightest idea of how to handle it. He was so sad, so afraid... so lost. She held to him, hugging fiercely.
       "It doesn't matter," she whispered to him. "Sulu, it doesn't! I love you, I love you! I'll say it as often as you want, as often as you need. I'm sorry, so sorry. I didn't want you to hurt. I just wanted... I thought the release would help. It's all right here - to feel, to love, to care. I thought if I could prove it - make you see that here... but it hurts you so badly... god, I'm sorry!"
       She kissed him, tasting the salt of her tears as well as his. He returned it, still trembling, his eyes tightly closed to stop the flow of tears that still came. She held him more fiercely, his arms drew her closer. He murmured in her ear, words that were inaudible, but she didn't need to hear them. She echoed them back to him:
       I love you.

       Afterwards, Ruth couldn't remember how they made it to the bed. All she could recall was the sweet, gentle, passionate love Sulu made to her and with her. The pain and shame he felt cut at her, but she refused to acknowledge it, hoping that to revel in the love would show him how right it was, Every touch was soft, giving; every kiss a tender renewal. His lean, hard body gave pleasure for its own sake, not for control or power. And for once he took her caresses as simple expressions of warmth and sharing, not as comparison or game. He wouldn't let her go. He held onto her as if she would vanish if he didn't. And he would shudder with his sorrow and bury his face in her hair as if to hide from it.
       They lay quietly, no words needed between them, Sulu softly stroking her temple. Ruth just as softly touched his. His 'I love you' was silent thunder in her mind and she wished fervently that he could hear her answer.
       Then it occurred to her that, if she really wanted him to, he could.
       Would he want to? Wouldn't he fear it as much as Roy had? No, she already knew his secret. Would he resent her asking, breaking the peace they'd found? Or should she simply assume the intimacy? No, I can never...
       You won't fight for me. You only have rights you can hold on to. Don't I mean that much to you?
       Yes, Sulu. That much and more.
       She took a deep breath and gently, tenderly reached out to his mind. He was surprised but not terrified the way Roy had been. I love you she told him, giving him images that showed him that she understood all he was and that she accepted all he was. I know. You're afraid to love, people who love are weak, the weak die. You hate loving but you can't stop it so you hate yourself. But things are different here. Here, love is strength. Caring is what makes the Federation work. You don't have to hate the loving. It's loving that will make you survive, don't you see that? Here is where you belong. It's where you've always belonged. You're out of place in your own universe. But you're home here, Sulu. Safe, because you love... and I do love you.
       Memories flashed through his mind, of people he had loved over the years. Same of them had died, some had been driven away, but not before he destroyed even the suspicion of his secret weakness. He had loved and hurt and the guilt had nearly driven him insane. He had turned it into a game, a part of him always hoping to find someone who was capable of playing it through to the end. Someone who could love him. Or someone strong enough, skillful enough to destroy him. No more need for destruction? No need to long for death? Peace? Peace, my love? Is it possible?
       The hopeless, fearful longing swept over her; fear of it being true, fear of it not being true. Tears formed in her mind, falling through his, burning, and cleansing.
       Yes, possible! she cried. More than possible. No destruction, no death - goddess, I couldn't take it if you died! Peace, beloved - my beloved - stay with me, don't leave me, I love you, I need you...
       I'll stay. Forever. You're what I need, what I want. I love you.
       It had been a very long time since Ruth had made love to someone while completely joined. She found she'd missed it. And, to her joy, that by it, Sulu was as completed as she.

       "Nothing will change," Sulu said.
       Ruth turned from pulling on her clothing. The past twenty hours had been spent in the reverie of gentle amberglow and they were due back on the Enterprise. The statement took her by surprise. "Nothing will...?" she began.
       Sulu's eyes were cold. "I am what I am."
       "I know that."
       "Amber didn't -- "
       "Oh." She stared at the floor. "I see." Hands grabbed her shoulders, turning her. The grip was painfully tight.
       "Do you?" he asked. His voice mocked her but the secret pain lurked behind coal-black eyes.
       "Yes," she said softly. "Beloved, I do."
       He smiled. "Good girl."
       Ruth lifted her face and kissed him, accepting the harsh return and the cool release. "Let's go," he said and she nodded.

       Spock was anxious to receive Ruth's report. There had been none from the Base officials, which was a good sign. The Captain had checked almost continually with Base Security, checking with Spock nearly as frequently. Spock found it annoyed him for more than the intrusion into his own leave time. It was unflattering to his efficiency, and Miss Valley's, to say nothing of the mistrust it showed of Mr. Sulu. And the proof of Kirk's continued resistance to the only logical course of action.
       As he waited, his office door opened and Kirk strode in.
       "He's due back," he stated. "Where is he?"
       "Mr. Kyle called from the transporter room," Spock answered. "They just beamed up."
       The Captain sighed, nodded brusquely. "Good. I assume Ensign Valley's going to report to you."
       "Affirmative."
       Kirk took a seat. "I'll wait here, then."
       Spock carefully hid his irritation. "Sir, I believe it would be better if..."
       "Spock, I'll see this for myself, if you don't mind," Kirk cut in.
       "Jim, listen to me," Spock began earnestly but his words were cut off by the door chime. When Kirk stared expectantly at him, he resignedly called, "Come."
       Ruth and Sulu strolled in, holding hands - then stopped cold at seeing Kirk.
       "Captain," Ruth stammered, "I didn't expect to see you."
       "I did," Sulu added calmly.
       Kirk ignored the comment. "You have something to report, Miss Valley?" he said.
       "I had a pleasant shore leave, sir," she replied.
       "And I was a perfect gentleman," Sulu put in.
       "Mr. Sulu, if you would allow Miss Valley to make her report..." Spock began.
       "I've made it," Ruth stated.
       "You haven't started," Kirk snapped.
       "I was on leave!"
       "You're responsible for this..." Kirk bit back the word, but Sulu didn't.
       "Monster," he said coolly.
       "You hypocrite!" Ruth blazed. "How can you make that judgment?! You don't know him! He's different! Do you automatically condemn things you don't understand? How dare you!"
       "Ensign Valley, I've been in his universe..."
       "So fucking what? That's a different culture! He's adapting to ours, just like I had to, like Spock had to!"
       "He's Human..."
       "Damnit, no he isn't! Not our Human! He was shaped by totally different values, different morals, different truths. He is as out of place here an any member of a new race would be, but he's trying. Which is more than I can say for you! All your fine words about equality and rights! I believe it, Captain. Do you? Can you live the ideal we've all sworn to uphold? We have to respect his differences, as we do Andorians' and Tellurites' and Vulcans', or we're no Federation. Our laws can't apply only when it's convenient, or we're no better than any of the tyrannical empires we say we're protecting the galaxy from. Don't you see what you're doing by treating him this way? You're making a mockery of all our ideals, all our beliefs. And you're only proving to him that he can't trust what we say. But he can. We are a Federation and we do stand by our ideals and our beliefs. Where would we be if we didn't? Would this ship, your crew — your friendship with your First Officer be possible? Would our peaceful exploration of all the wonders of our galaxy be possible? Would this conversation be possible? Equality and rights, Captain. He is as entitled to them as I am, as Spock is, as you are! And I demand he be given them!"
       "You demand - !" Kirk began, springing angrily to his feet - then lapsed into stunned silence. He stared from Valley, to Spock, to the faintly smiling Sulu.
       "She's right, isn't she, Captain?" Sulu asked.

       Kirk had become more and more incensed at Ruth's ravings. But he couldn't help hearing echoes of his own words in hers. He glanced again at Ruth, then to Spock. The Vulcan's face was tense, almost anxious. Once more the picture of Sulu's angry, agonized eyes flitted through his consciousness. He was right. Ruth was right. Part of him wanted to think that her words had been something Sulu had coached her in. He wanted Sulu to be a villain from a universe of villains; but he'd been lying to himself. He didn't like to think of himself as less than objective, but in this case he had been. Because he hadn't liked what he had seen, hadn't wanted to admit that the power wielded by the Imperial Kirk had been tempting. I didn't like what I saw in the mirror, and when a fragment of that mirror fell into my universe, I panicked. I didn't see him as a man, just like any other, with fears and hopes and reason. All I saw was... He flushed inwardly, then mentally shook his head in self-castigation. No one should be the symbol for someone else's fears. It takes their being from them. Yes, Sulu, I'm a hypocrite. I've denied you your rights. I've abandoned my ideals because of my fears. I've made a mockery of my oaths because I couldn't face the challenge of your presence. Could I be Captain to one such as you without becoming like you? And I almost did what I'd most feared - mistrust and surveillance are Imperial reactions, aren't they?
       Kirk took a deep breath. This wasn't going to be easy. He had been wrong, and in doing so had done an injustice to other beings. He was ashamed of himself. Where were his ideals, his beliefs? Where was the fairness and innate sense of equality that had made him not only a good captain, but respected and liked as well? How had he let one man - one experience - disrupt all he believed in? What if he hadn't given Spock the benefit of the doubt; if he'd judged Spock by his appearance, or by his cool exterior?
       "I - have made a mistake," he said, finally, "and the whole ship, with the exception of Miss Valley and Mr. Spock, has followed my example. I owe you an apology, Mr. Sulu. And you too, Miss Valley. And Spock."
       "An apology is not necessary, Captain," Spock said.
       "Maybe not for you!" Ruth snapped, eyes still blazing. "You - " Sulu put a hand on her arm and she quieted immediately. That still disturbed Kirk, but it was ridiculous to automatically see it as some form of domination.
       "I asked you a question, Captain, if you'd be so kind as to answer it," Sulu said.
       "He said 'she's right, isn't she'," Spock reminded after several seconds passed and Kirk was still staring blankly at Sulu.
       Kirk scowled, but nodded. "Yes, Mr. Sulu. She's right. And you're right. And Spock's right. And I'm wrong. Is that what you wanted to hear?" He noticed Ruth's slow exhale but firmly refused to interpret it.
       "Yes, Captain. That's exactly what I wanted to hear."
       Kirk knew some sort of victory had been claimed from him, but he wasn't sure what. He forced a smile. "I'd like to start living up to my ideals, Mr. Sulu. I'm open to suggestions as to how to do that."
       "You could remove your restrictions on him," Ruth put in.
       "And release him from the trial period you have instituted," Spock added.
       Kirk nodded. "Agreed. Mr. Sulu, anything to add?"
       "I think that'll do for a start, sir," Sulu replied coolly. Again Kirk forced himself not to react to the implication.
       "Very well. We can discuss your career goals whenever you wish."
       Sulu smiled, a cynical baring of teeth. "Of course."
       "Dismissed," Kirk said.
       Spock watched as Sulu and Valley left. Kirk sighed and slumped into a chair. "Tell me I'm doing the right thing, Spock," he said.
       Spock considered. The situation was still dangerous, still uncertain. Yet Ruth had been right. They could do nothing else and remain true to their ideals. Sulu's personal quirks were hers to deal with, and he himself could still offer support and assistance should it be required. He turned to his captain.
       "I believe you are doing the only thing that can be done, Jim."
       Kirk's gaze was far away. "I hope so," he murmured, then added softly, "but either way, I'll never get away from those eyes, will I?"
       No, Spock thought. Nor will I.

       Sulu was silent all the way back to their quarters. It was a silence that wasn't angry or contemplative and Ruth couldn't read it. She had wanted to revel in the joy of winning, to celebrate, but Sulu kept his distance. Why? Had her outburst on his behalf broken some Imperial code? No. He'd wanted her to fight for him. What then?
       The door closed behind her and she hesitated as Sulu casually threw himself onto the bed. She faltered on his name a few times, then slowly became aware of the soft sound coming from deep in his chest.
       Laughter.
       She broke into a grin. He was exultant! "We won!" she cried joyously, and threw herself into his arms. His kiss was fierce, but with passion and triumph. When he pulled away, he was smiling coldly.
       "Kirk didn't squirm enough," he said.
       Ruth shivered, but kept quiet. She was afraid of making the wrong response. This was a critical moment, she knew. Finally she took a deep breath and simply said, "But we did win, Sulu."
       "The battle, dear. Not the war. Kirk retreated. He didn't surrender."
       "But..." Ruth began, then closed her mouth. She understood, too well. He was playing power games. She tried to form some way of telling him that it wasn't necessary, then firmly put it out of her mind. He'd find it out for himself, and she would support him through anything, anyway. It didn't matter. Whatever he wanted, he'd get. And she'd help him. "I love you," she said.
       Sulu smiled. "It changes nothing, baby."
       "Nothing," she agreed, and submitted eagerly to his caresses.

       Sulu gloried in the touch of Ruth's fingers, the smell and taste of her skin, the satiny feel of her hair as he ran his hands through it. This would be the best, he knew. He'd won! Rights, equality, Federation. It didn't matter. The rules of the game were the same. It was only the strategy that was different. Tactics had to be more subtle. I can play it, Captain, as well as you. Maybe better, and I've got a weapon you'll never know about. He pulled Ruth into a passionate kiss. He was playing her perfectly, too. He was making her body sing with desire for him, making her heart need him, her soul thirst for him. Somewhere deep inside himself, he knew that this time, with her, it wasn't a game. Amber had proved that. Amber would prove it again when she needed proof. But he wasn't ready to face that yet. And she knew it, and would never force it from him. That made his secret all the sweeter.
       His mind alive with satisfaction, he gave up thinking and gave himself over to the pleasure of making love to her - and of being loved by her.
       Their bodies moved together in near-perfect rhythm, caused by the mental union of the night before. It would always be like this, now. She would know what he wanted, when he wanted. And he could, when he chose, reciprocate the knowledge. He chose to, letting his palms graze her already hard nipples, kissing and playfully biting the soft flesh of her throat. She moaned breathlessly, writhing against him, wrapping her legs around his thighs so that his erection could rub against the wet flesh between her legs. He whispered his approval and she insinuated herself more closely against him. It was an Imperial response and Sulu laughed delightedly. She nuzzled her face to his neck and he could feel her blush of pleasure. He lowered his head away from her embrace, licking at her golden-tipped breasts, making her shudder with excitement. He slid his hands down her back, caressing her buttocks, grasping her thighs to remove himself from their stranglehold. She obeyed the silent command, staring down at him. He let one finger tease her vagina, stroking her clitoris, watching her face as her eyes closed in ecstasy. His touch was gentle and taunting and she squirmed beneath it, aroused and hungry. She reached for him and he moved his body away from her so that all she could feel was centered between her legs. It was only a matter of minutes before she was begging him to stop - and not to stop. She moaned her need and desire, pleading with him over and over. He drank in her submission, her abject devotion - and there was no accompanying pain, no hidden surety of betrayal, no secret fear of rejection or hatred. She loved him and he knew it and there was nothing more to spoil his enjoyment, to force the vicious, sadistic cruelty to make her prove it. Nothing more, and nothing less.
       He took her with force and passion, but with no terror and no tension. Her response freed him as his beating of her weeks ago had. He soared on her emotions, knew she was soaring along with him. He held off his orgasm through sheer will, letting her reach hers over and over, as many times as she had pleaded with him. And when climax could no longer be denied, he let it come with no restraint, crushing her to his body, losing himself completely in the pleasure and satiation.
       He lost awareness for only a moment, and regained it feeling Ruth covering his face with warm, sweet kisses. Each kiss was accompanied by a whispered "I love you." He smiled, settling her in his arms, returning the kisses - but not the words. He was confident that she understood.
       And she did.
       Nothing changes, she thought, and everything.

The End