Return to Valjiir Stories
The Vulcan embassy was exactly as Ruth had pictured it - austere, efficient, with no hint of the weaponry or ancient carvings Spock had assured her were so important to the Vulcan soul. After all, no Vulcan would want the rest of the Federation to know about that. They approached the reception desk, and Spock held out his hand in the traditional Vulcan greeting.
"Alb p'salk sp'ra'l," he said, then added in Anglo, "I am Spock, this is she who will be my wife, Keheil Ruth Valley. We have an appointment with Healer T'Pen."
"T'Pen?" Ruth said. "Isn't she..."
"Yes," Spock replied. "She has been reassigned to the Embassy."
The young Vulcan seated at the desk consulted his schedule, then nodded. "She awaits you in the garden, Commander; level 4, suite 21G."
Spock nodded, not adding any thanks, Ruth noted. It was a little jarring, but she was well aware that to a Vulcan, the usual Terran niceties would be unnecessary, and maybe a little insulting. She grinned as she recalled the notation in Jade's treatise on Vulcan psychology: In cultures where the highest ideals are duty and logic, as on Vulcan, the expression of gratitude is not only unnecessary, but distasteful, for it implies that one has acted in some way not immediately dictated by the situation - in some way, in other words, which is not logical. It made her realize just how un-Vulcan her husband really was.
She found herself reaching for Spock's hand as they entered the turbolift. He caressed her palm, then moved his hand away, extending two fingers to her. She made a face, but responded appropriately, joining her fingers to his.
"There is no need to be nervous, my wife," he said softly. "T'Pen is well acquainted with our relationship."
"Yeah," Ruth said. "It's just that - I don't know what to expect."
Spock turned to her. "It is painless, I assure you," he said, his lips quirking in a repressed grin.
"Jilla and Sulu had to - uh - consummate - after..." she began.
"And we will be given a private place to do just that."
"But in an embassy full of telepaths..."
"I find your sudden modesty quite charming, wife, if a bit out of character."
"Womprat," Ruth scowled.
T'Pen will oversee the formation of the bonding link, and will ascertain its verity so as to bear witness to it before the Council, Spock explained gently. She will attune your mind to the cycle of the farr'k enzyme in my system, enabling you to know instantly when the build-up begins.
I am a keheil, you know, Ruth returned dryly. I think I'll be able to figure it out.
It is likely unnecessary, Spock agreed.
Likely?
Very well, if you insist, it is unnecessary...
Damn straight!
...however, if we are to be accepted as a Bonded couple on Vulcan, this is what is required. His mental voice paused. Unless you would prefer another contract...
The tone of the thought was so suddenly crestfallen that Ruth forgot she was in the middle of a enclave of disapproving Vulcans - even if there were none actually present at the moment - and threw her arms around her husband.
"Permanence is what I want, beloved," she murmured to him. "Surety for you, validation for Starfleet, and -" Her eyes twinkled up at him, "- to rub your father's nose in our very proper Vulcan commitment."
Spock tried to frown, and Ruth heard the forming 'you will respect my father,' but his eyes were too soft and the rebuke died. I have missed you, beloved.
Even when I'm being a brat?
Yes. Even then. Ruth sighed happily, then demurely released her husband, taking a half-step behind him. She heard his suppressed snort of amusement as the lift doors opened.
The unexpected beauty of the garden nearly took Ruth's breath away. The walls were covered with holographic images of red and rust-colored outcroppings of rocks, living vines crawling up them. Behind the rocks were backdrops of rising spires and plateaus against the red sky and huge blood-red sun of Vulcan. The floor of the room looked to be reddish desert sand, but Ruth soon realized it was in fact artfully woven carpeting. The foliage that surrounded low stone benches was a riot of greens and oranges and purples. Sitting on one of the benches was T'Pen, who rose gracefully as Spock entered the room.
"Welcome, Spock Sareklrn," she said, "and welcome to She-Who-Will-Be-Your-Wife."
"We are honored to have your aid in this matter," Spock returned with gracious formality.
"I trust my service will be sufficient, given the talents of the Lady Ruth ani Ramy," T'Pen rejoined, with a nod to Ruth.
Ruth smiled. "You two know what you're doing," she said. "I'll follow your instructions as best I can."
T'Pen inclined her head. "You have chosen well, Spock, as I surmised at our first meeting." She gestured for the couple to be seated. "And how fares the unusual bond between Lady Jilla and the Lieutenant Commander?"
"It fares well," Spock answered. "Mr. Sulu is a Captain now."
"I sensed the ambition in him. And she is no doubt a more than proper wife."
"Indeed," Spock agreed.
After a moment of silence, T'Pen said, "Are you both prepared for this step?"
"Yes, Healer," Spock replied, as Ruth said, "As I can be, under the circumstances."
A small frown touched the Healer's features. "There is reservation?"
Ruth flushed. "No, none at all. I just meant - well, I'm not Vulcan."
"She fears to cause some mishap," Spock explained. "It is very important to her that the rite be completed properly."
You mean very important to you, Ruth thought at him. I would have been content with finding Rabbi Miller.
Indeed? You do not, then, wish to rub my father's nose in our proper Vulcan commitment? Spock countered.
"If there is discord, I cannot continue," T'Pen warned.
"Oh for the love of..." Ruth began.
"It is her nature, Healer," Spock said, "of which I am quite well aware." He glanced fondly at his wife. "She is my choice, and my beloved. I will have this bonding."
"And so will I," Ruth said firmly.
T'Pen nodded. "Very well. I must stand between you, that I may touch you both. Is this intimacy granted me?"
Again Spock replied, "Yes, Healer," and this time, Ruth echoed his words. She closed her eyes as T'Pen's fingertips barely grazed her temple. The contact was gentle and coolly reassuring. She felt it as the Vulcan woman lifted her hand to Spock's temple, and was filled with a sudden rush of jealousy. Is this what Roy felt? she found herself thinking. To her surprise. T'Pen answered her thought.
His reaction was much stronger, she said, and much more primal. I did not understand it at the time, and still cannot find the logic in it, but it was the response of a bonded male.
I thought that had all been explained, Ruth returned.
Indeed, it has - but there is still no logic in it.
Ruth chuckled, then felt Spock's welcoming presence just beyond T'Pen's. I am prepared, Healer, he said, and his calm devotion warmed her all the way down to her toes.
Are you prepared, Lady? The Healer asked. Ruth smiled and knew it was on her lips as well as in her mind.
Yes, I am, she replied.
I begin.
It was surprisingly easy to allow T'Pen to completely trace and map her telepathy. Ruth felt the Vulcan's respect for her control, and nearly spoiled it by giggling with pride.
You are far stronger than any telepath I have encountered before, T'Pen commented.
Ruth mentally shrugged. I am a keheil, she offered.
T'Pen's attention turned to Spock. Son of Sarek, you are aware of and accept the lingering presence of others within her?
Ruth felt Spock's sudden stiffening, but all he said was, show me.
With sudden trepidation, Ruth became aware of the touch of T'Pen's power, pulling memory from the places to which the Antari had consigned them.
Bright sparkling silver, melting toes and understanding acceptance, loss and grief and eternal, unanswered questions. Even if you want to believe there's a way. Terry.
Deep, overwhelming blue, sorrow and rage and incomprehension, skinless terror, desperate longing, need and power and guilt. If you are serious, don't play with my heart, it makes me furious. Del.
Molten bronze, sweet and rich and warm, open caring hiding a dark core of secret anguish and hunger. In dark sorrow, they gaze down into the darkest heart. Sulu.
I am aware, and I accept, Spock affirmed.
You do? Ruth asked, tears making her mental voice thick.
Do you think it possible that I do not know you, my beloved?
There is acceptance, T'Pen acknowledged gently. I continue.
The rest of the exploration went smoothly, and T'Pen was satisfied that she knew the pathways of the Antari's telepathy. She turned to Spock and Ruth waited with easy expectancy.
Ani Ramy, T'Pen suddenly addressed her. You are aware of and accept the lingering presence of others within him?
Others? she flared suspiciously.
The impressions came at her as she knew her own must have surrounded Spock. Sweet, mild, unassuming, pale pink in his thoughts, delicate and sad and winsome. Leila.
Ruth bristled.
Cold whites and grays, lost, abandoned, fearful and desperate and urgent, calling forth all the ancient passion within him. Zarabeth.
Who the fuck is Zarabeth!
Perfect blending, her wit and warmth, Jilla's submission and devotion; the fire of The Time, the brazen Human hungers; full lips, lush body, pointed ears, a sensitive's flawless intuition; long, slender legs, large eyes, sensitive temples, strong talented mind - little tiger cub, sensual lioness...
You prefer Jith to me?!?
Not prefer, my wife. These are the memories that might interfere with the bond, just as your memories had to be examined and...
So I have to accept that you still want the mousy little blonde and Jilla and who-the-fuck-is-Zarabeth?
Spock's sigh was patient. In essence, yes - as I must accept you still desire your Terry and DelMonde and Jilla's bonded husband.
I loved them all before I even met...
As I knew Leila and Zarabeth before...
What about Jith?
I could not desire her were she not a part of you, wife. Calm reassurance was giving way to dark annoyance.
So I'm supposed to believe that there's no desire for Jilla left in there somewhere?
You are.
I can assure you, ani Ramy, T'Pen broke in gently, that bond was completely severed.
Bond, yeah, but what about how he feels?
What I feel for Jilla is deep and loving, yes, Spock rejoined, but it is not of longing nor of desire. We are kindred.
You understand the role of kindred in Vulcan society, do you not? T'Pen asked.
I understand that no one told me I was going to have to accept that my husband still wants other women! Ruth blazed.
Ruth, I do not, came Spock's stern rebuke. These are memories only, and important enough to me that I desire to keep them. But they do not indicate any wish to relive them, nor to repeat them.
The unspoken unlike you was so overwhelming that Ruth gasped and T'Pen snapped, Kroykah!
There is discord here, the Healer stated. The bond cannot be set in this state.
How can you even think I still want... Ruth began.
My wife, forgive me, Spock offered. We have been too long apart.
No shit.
Perhaps if we take a few days to become again familiar with one another, we can make another attempt....
So you're just gonna give up, Ruth spat. Just like that.
I am not 'giving up.' I merely suggested a brief delay so that we can...
"I am stopping this," T'Pen said aloud, and Ruth had to shake off the sudden twinge of disorientation as the Vulcan disengaged their mental contact. "You were more in accord with one another two years ago."
"A lot has happened in two years," Ruth grumbled.
"Yet the relationship survived Spock's disastrous rejection of you," T'Pen persisted, "and your infidelity. What could possibly be a greater obstacle now?"
"We have been separated - physically - for nearly a year but for a five-day leave," Spock replied quietly. T'Pen turned to him, her eyes narrow and disapproving.
"You did not state that fact in your petition, Sarek's son."
"I had not thought it important," Spock admitted. "I did not foresee this difficulty."
"Repair your relationship," T'Pen ordered sharply. "If I agree to attempt another bonding, I will need proof of your renewed union."
She strode from the room, leaving Spock and Ruth to stare helplessly at one another.
On the small screen, Robyn Thomas' face was flushed with delight as Jade repeated the news about Jim's proposal.
"Jade, honey, that's wonderful!" she said. "When's the wedding?"
"Soon," Jade replied happily. "We want to have it on Terra before the Nests launch."
The technician suddenly frowned. "Is 'soon' sometime in the next month?"
"Yes. Is there a problem?"
"Only if I want to be there," Robyn said, "which, of course, I do. But I've got a symposium on psycho-cin technology that starts in three days and is scheduled for two weeks." She made a face. "And as I'm the key speaker, there's no way I can get out of it."
"Oh, Robyn," Jade returned, crest-fallen. "I wanted you to be one of my bridesmaids."
"Can you delay it for three weeks?"
"The new ships are set to go in two."
"Shit." There was silence from the screen, then Robyn deliberately perked up. "Well, you've certainly waited long enough, Jade. I'll be there in spirit, you know that."
"Robyn - I'm so sorry," Jade said, her eyes filling with tears.
"No need, sweetie. The timing sucks, is all. And who knows, maybe I can get myself assigned to one of those new ships. They'll have psycho-cin facilities, won't they?"
"They will, but I'm not sure James and I will be assigned to one."
The technician snorted. "Not give a Nest to a newly-married, first-class captain and his top-flight shrink wife? Not bloody likely."
"You don't know Fleet politics."
"The hell I don't!" Robyn smiled, pushing her hair away from her face. "I know of a few important closets with skeletons in them, Jade. If you need any ammunition..."
Jade couldn't help but laugh. "Well, if I do, I certainly know where to come."
"So let me know what registry Jim gets and I'll work my little ass off to get berthed there, too." Her broad face crinkled merrily. "That is, of course, assuming he's not the jealous type."
Jade flushed. "We haven't really discussed that aspect of things," she admitted.
"Uh, he does know you're bi, doesn't he?" Robyn's tone was clearly worried.
"Of course he does. We simply haven't talked about monogamy."
"Don't you think that's a little detail that should be clear before you tie the knot?"
"To be honest, Robyn, it hadn't occurred to me."
"You are so - naïve, sometimes, Jade," Robyn muttered, then sighed. "Well, okay, but if I'm gonna have to look but not touch, I'll want to know beforehand."
Jade nodded, but her expression was thoughtful - and concerned. "I'm sorry you won't be here for the ceremony," she repeated.
"The ceremony is nice and fun," Robyn returned, "but it's the marriage that counts." She grinned. "And I hope to be there for a lot of that."
"So do I."
"Give the groom a huge hug from me and tell him to kiss the bride for me as well."
"I will, Robyn." It was Jade's turn to pause. "I miss you."
Robyn again smiled. "I'll bet you won't be saying that in two weeks. Take care, sweetie. See ya." The image faded as the connection was closed.
"Take care, dear," Jade murmured, and closed the com.
"So, what did Robyn have to say for herself?" Jim asked as he reentered the cabin. Jade smiled at him, appreciating that he'd allowed her to make the call in private. Not that he'd said anything about it; he'd just quietly left the room when she'd asked for the transmission to Jude.
"She can't make it," Jade replied. "She's the key speaker at a symposium for the next two weeks."
Jim crossed the small cabin, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "I'm sorry, honey," he murmured.
"Well, as she pointed out, it's the marriage that's important," Jade told him. He smiled at her.
"So it is. But this rather puts a crimp in your bridal party."
"My bridal party?" Jade repeated with a raised eyebrow.
"This is traditionally the bride's day, isn't it?" Jim teased.
"Traditionally," Jade agreed, "but I'm not, usually."
"I'm marrying an eccentric now, am I?"
Jade rose from her chair, pacing a few steps away from him before turning to face him. "I'm bisexual," she said. Bluntly. Directly.
Jim's expression didn't change. "I know that."
"Robyn and I were lovers on Jude," she added in the same tone.
Jim's tone didn't alter either. "I'm aware of that, Jade."
"I never considered whether or not a marriage with you would preclude those kind of relationships."
She watched while Jim took a slow, deep breath. "I'd always assumed..." he began, then stopped. "But I guess that wasn't the smartest thing to do." He gazed at nothing for a short while, then squared his shoulders. "If I said I wanted a monogamous relationship, would that mean the wedding was off?"
"Not - necessarily," Jade responded carefully.
"Then there's room for some - negotiation, here?"
"Of course, James."
He nodded. "Good." Another deep breath, another squaring of shoulders. "I wouldn't like it very much if you slept with other men," Jim said. "But I love you, and if that's a deal-breaker..."
"It isn't," Jade interrupted.
Jim's smile was crooked. "Good. My preference, then, is that you don't sleep with other men,"
"And am I to take note of the gender, James?"
"I don't know," he returned. "I honestly don't know." He stared resolutely into her eyes. "Can we leave that possibility open for now?"
"With the understanding that I won't have sexual relations with any male of any species but you?" Jade asked calmly.
Jim frowned. "You sound like a Haven, Jade."
"We are negotiating the most important contract of our lives."
The twisted grin returned. "Yes, I guess we are. Alright, then, yes, with that understanding."
"I'm agreeable to that. And can I stipulate the same condition with regard to any other female of any species and you?"
"That was my intent from the beginning," Jim replied.
"You just have to be more decent, don't you?"
It took a moment for the twinkle in Jade's eyes to register, but then Jim smiled broadly. "I've been through therapy," he boasted.
"Yes, you have, but I'll ask anyway," Jade retorted. "Should I take note of the gender, James?"
With a mock-offended glare, Jim pounced, grabbing his bride-to be and throwing her down on the bed. "Don't start with that Freudian crap, woman," he growled convincingly.
"Sometimes," she murmured seductively, "a cigar is just a cigar."
She smiled when Jim burst into appreciative laughter, then accepted his deep, loving kisses.
Jade met Jilla, Uhura and Daffy at the dressmakers just before 1400 hours. They were each appropriately impressed with both her gown, and her choice for theirs.
"Not uncomfortable or horrendous," Daffy quipped as she preened in front of the shop's mirrors.
"They are beautiful, Jade," Jilla said, and Jade noted that while she glanced down at the dress, she didn't look at herself in the mirror.
"I think Tomor may have a hard time not ripping it off me," Uhura confessed, and Jade and Daffy laughed.
"So where's Mrs. Once and Future Captain?" Daffy asked. "Don't tell me. Not even for this could she be dragged out from under her Vulcan stud-muffin?"
"Actually, I haven't spoken with her," Jade returned. "I've been trying to get a hold of her, but no one seems to know where she and Spock have gone."
"Did you check the shuttle?" Uhura murmured. Jilla looked confused.
"Can't be, or poor Cobra would still be stuck there like a statue," Daffy put in.
"And weren't you going to ask Robyn to stand up too?" Uhura asked.
Jade gave a small pout. "Robyn can't make it."
"Ooh, that puts a crimp in your numbers," Daffy said, then frowned. "Pav's still in, right?"
"Jim wants Pavel as a groomsman," Jade assured. The chemist went back to admiring herself in the mirror.
"Good. That means I'm in, too."
"The problem is I need another bridesmaid, not that any of you are going to be asked to step out," Jade stated.
"And unless you find Ruth in a hurry, you may need two," Uhura rejoined.
Jade sighed, frowning. "Where is that girl?"
"Hey, Jer."
Jeremy turned at the casual greeting, and nearly crushed Sulu in a fierce, surprised, unrestrained hug. Sulu laughed, returning the embrace, then stepped back, drinking in the sight of the Enterprise's former Security Chief. Paget was still in uniform, though from the banter he'd been engaging in with the pretty yeoman behind the Shipyards' information desk, he wasn't still on duty.
"Hey yourself, Captain," Jeremy said, then craned his neck, as if trying to look behind Sulu. "Where's the little one?" he asked.
"She's getting fitted for a bridesmaid's dress," Sulu replied.
"Ah, the wedding of the century," Paget returned knowingly. "Should've known Jade would've asked her."
"And me, though I haven't heard that officially from Jim yet," Sulu offered. "You got time for a drink?"
"Sure, babe, always for you." Jeremy winked, said a friendly goodbye to the yeoman, then stepped away from the desk. "Where to?"
"How about the café on Huntington Beach?" Sulu suggested.
Paget grinned. "You got time for a trip home, do you?"
"I asked Jilla to meet me in L.A.," Sulu said. "It's time she met her in-laws."
"Indeed, as my Exec would say." The two men started toward the station's transport booth. "How long is the Drake in for?"
"Two weeks. We're not scheduled to leave until after the launch."
"Yeah, Fleet's really turnin' on the juice for this one."
"We can only hope that Commodore Calvin is too busy with the Nests to bother about a little old wedding," Sulu said.
Paget snorted. "Yeah, and how likely do you think that is?"
"Where there's life..." Sulu shrugged.
"What are you going to get them as a wedding present?" Jeremy asked.
"How much shit does one need when one's gonna be living on a starship?" Sulu asked in return, then glanced at Paget. "They are gonna be living on a starship, aren't they?"
Jeremy leaned close. "Mums the word on that," he said quietly, "but the scuttlebutt is soundin' real promising."
"If they don't give Jim Kirk a Nest, I think the entire Federation may mutiny."
Jeremy chuckled. "But will it survive when it finds out that he won't have Spock as his First Officer?"
"That's a done deal?" Sulu said, his voice sounding delighted.
"Sure as shit, babe," Paget replied.
"Hot damn!"
"I'm sure Spike will think so."
"Any word on who the lucky third is?"
Jeremy frowned. "That's bein' held so close to the chest I can't even get confirmation that there's a list, much less who's on it."
"That's gonna make it tricky for whoever has to come up with a crew."
"If you ask me, " Jeremy confided, "I think Fleet wants to make that some kind of final test. They haven't given Captain Kirk or Spock the official word yet."
Sulu shook his head, whistling. "Then I'd better let Spock know that I'm willing to be his Exec again." Paget stared at him in frank surprise.
"Really? You'd give up your command?"
"To be with Jilla? On a bet, baby."
Jeremy stopped walking, staring frankly at his friend. "Sulu - Jilla's not gonna like that."
"She'll like being separated a whole hell of a lot less," Sulu replied gravely. "I've already told her that."
"You are a wonder sometimes, babe," Jeremy told him.
Sulu's smile was just the tiniest bit sour. "There's nothing I wouldn't give up for her, Jer."
Jeremy smiled back. "After the Fidelity Fuck-Up, there better not be."
Sulu gave him a friendly punch on the arm. "Leave it to you to mention that."
"Just makin' sure you never forget it," the TerAfrican returned blithely.
Sulu chuckled, and they both stepped into the transporter, using their military IDs to get a card that would authorize their beaming to Los Angeles.
"So now what do we do?" Ruth finally asked.
"We have little choice but to do as T'Pen ordered," Spock replied. "If we still wish to have a Vulcan bonding."
The Antari made a face. "It might be a whole lot easier to go find Judy."
"If that is your wish," Spock answered, but Ruth could tell from his non-expression that it was far from what he wished.
"So where do we go to repair our relationship?" she offered tightly.
"I would think somewhere a great deal more private," was the Vulcan's response.
That bad, huh? Ruth sighed. "We could go to Berkeley, I guess."
"A most logical suggestion, my wife."
"You mean I still am?" Ruth muttered as she turned to head back to the lift.
Before she had taken two steps, Spock's hand was on her arm.
"Do you wish to be?" he asked. Softly. Stiffly.
She turned, tears in her eyes. "Of course I do! How could you think...?"
He sighed, a little relieved - or so Ruth hoped - but all he said was, "Then let us go to Berkeley."
They transported to Berkeley in silence, walking the mile between the booth and Ruth's hilltop house. Once inside, Ruth took a deep breath and faced her husband.
"Alright, Spock, what do we need to..." she began.
"You do not accept my past," came the solemn interruption.
"It's not that," Ruth protested. "I just - I wasn't prepared for - I didn't think you still..."
"Cared for anyone but you?" Spock broke in. Again.
Ruth frowned. "That's not true. I know you care about Jilla, and the telepathic voyeurism certainly showed that you still think about Miss Winsome..."
"What I still thought about Leila has changed in the intervening three years, my wife," Spock said, correcting the tense of the verb.
"So help me, if you interrupt me again..."
"You will divorce me? Of course, that would not now be actually necessary."
The sarcasm was so unlike him - the him I remember, Ruth found herself correcting - that she had to blink away her surprise.
Spock, I don't understand, she sent as gently as she could. It's not like you to be this antagonistic.
I have given you no cause for jealousy nor concern that I...
Bets, Captain Bastard?
You would still hold that against me? came his angry, indignant response. Has it not been explained and, I thought, forgiven? I turned from you, yes, but not to another. Have I not forgiven you your infidelity?
Ruth squirmed sheepishly, ashamed of her reaction. Point taken, husband. Forgive me. Go on. Which is more than you've let me do, she added privately.
It is more than I have let you do, wife, because you will not face this, Spock said tersely.
You weren't supposed to hear that, she admitted, a little annoyed that her shielding hadn't prevented it.
There are apparently a great many things you do not wish to hear from me, he returned bitterly.
And things you haven't bothered to tell me! she flared back at him. Like who the fuck is Zarabeth?!
A woman I met long before either of us were born, he said. If you truly wish to know, the answers are here.
Ruth's mind was flooded with images: a cold, barren landscape; Spock and McCoy nearly freezing to death; their rescue at the hands of a fur-clad figure, who turned out to be a woman, banished to the ice age of the planet Sarpeidon for no crime other than being the sister of a political enemy of someone called Zorkon the Tyrant. Memories of something called the Atavachron and a librarian named Atoz explained the situation; how Spock and Bones had believed themselves trapped in the past of a world not theirs, how lonely and sorrowful Zarabeth herself was, the effect their unprepared brains and bodies had on Spock's perceptions and reactions. He had reverted to the congruent time in Vulcan's past - the time before Surak. He had eaten animal flesh: "And enjoyed it," his memory supplied. He had threatened McCoy when the good doctor had given one too many friendly insults: "I don't like that. I don't think I ever did. Now I'm sure." And he had made love to Zarabeth in the cave that was her home. And at the last, when the woman confessed the deception she had tried to use to keep Spock with her, Ruth felt her grief - and Spock's own - for she surely didn't deserve the desolate fate to which she had been consigned.
Does that satisfy you, wife? Spock snapped, and Ruth could sense how anguished the memories still were for him.
I'm sorry, beloved, she said softly. I didn't know...
And would your reaction when seeing it in my memory as T'Pen attempted to form the bonding link have been any different if you had?
Ruth had to swallow past a lump in her throat. No, probably not, she confessed, except I wouldn't have asked who the fuck she was.
I have accepted all you are, Ruth, Spock went on. Even when we were first wed, and I was woefully ignorant of what you considered normal sexual practices. Even when I was required to face my own assumptions and preconceptions of what a wife was, and to alter them. Even when you sighed with longing over Sorrm, an emotional Vulcan...
I didn't know that hurt you, Ruth broke in. At the time...
At the time I asked if you wanted me charming and grinning and laughing. I was comforted when you said...
That I'd divorce you. I remember. She sighed again. Husband - was it ever so easy between us?
There was a long silence, then Spock, too, sighed. Once, beloved. Before I abandoned you. Before you abandoned me.
But we settled that, Spock! Ruth cried. I could've sworn we did!
Yet you do not accept my past.
And we're back where we started, aren't we? Ruth rubbed her hands over her face. "Okay," she said aloud. "Let's try this again, shall we?"
"I do not know what more I can do," Spock returned. "I love you, and I accept you, that was made clear in the bonding attempt. I saw - and indeed, dei'larr'ei, I have seen and known since before we first touched as husband and wife - all that you still carry for the others who have molded and shaped your life and your ability to love and receive love. And if you cannot do the same for me..." The dark eyes closed.
"Spock, I swear, it isn't that, it really isn't, I just..." she faltered, but this time Spock simply stared at her, waiting patiently. "It's just..." she tried again, faltering again. "I mean, like I said, I know you care for Jilla, and I'd be an idiot not to understand that Leila was for you what Terry was for me - the voyeurs made that pretty damned obvious..." Her voice trailed off. "And now that I know who Zarabeth is, I can certainly see how..." She glanced up helplessly. "Spock, I don't know..." she whispered.
"You would not hold me if my heart were truly elsewhere," Spock said quietly. Ruth nodded miserably, hugging herself. "And my thoughts make you believe - or fear - that my heart does, indeed, lie with another." Ruth nodded again.
The same is true for me, came his now gentle voice within her. Terry is not an option, nor is Sulu, but I am certain Mr. DelMonde would...
Don't you even dare suggest that! Ruth blazed.
If your heart is his, beloved...
No! No, no, no, NO!
Yet your memories, the passion and tenderness which still surrounds your being when you think of him...
Are a part of what I am. I told you that once, remember? Granted it wasn't about Del, but... Carefully, she called up the conversation they had had when Jilla had accepted Sulu's damnation after the fiasco with LiLing, replaying it in his mind:
She tried to stop the words, the images, but with Spock in physical contact with her, it was impossible. Something in my heart died last night, one more chip off an already broken heart...
I am here now, beloved. I have allowed, welcomed your knowledge of me, I have joined with you as with no other.
She sent him her deepest regret. It's only memory, Spock. And really, it was because I didn't think there was any hope for us.
But it burns you still. Can I not ease it?
You can. You do.
But not erase it.
I wouldn't want you to.
There was a questioning from Spock's mind.
It's a part of me, and I like me, warts and all.
His soft smile enveloped them both. As do I, my beloved."This hurts you for more reason than Jilla."
I recall, Spock told her. Is it not then logical to apply the same reasoning to me?
You mean that I shouldn't try to erase your experiences because I'm supposed to like you, warts and all?
Precisely.
Ruth frowned, pursing her lips. "I hadn't thought of it that way," she said. Then, "Do you really?"
"Do I really what, my wife?"
"Like you, warts and all?"
He thought about that for a minute. "Yes, I believe I do."
"And me, even if one of my warts is that I have trouble accepting yours?"
"If you can accept them, yes."
"If?"
"Let me amend my statement. I will like you, Ruth, even without that stipulation. I will, in fact, love you without it. It will simply not be possible for us to be bonded if you cannot, at the last, accept all that I am."
Ruth shook her head. "And here I thought the hardest thing I had to accept about you was being Vulcan."
Spock tilted his head, his gaze soft and sad. "Is it so difficult to know that I can and do have the capacity to love, and not just my golden one?" he asked.
Ruth stared at the floor. "It shouldn't be," she said, "but it is. And I don't know why."
"Perhaps you should speak to Dr. Han."
She scowled. "Oh, no you don't. Besides, she's got a wedding to plan. Which reminds me, aren't you supposed to be in on that, too?"
"I had not thought the bonding ceremony would take quite this long," he told her pointedly.
Ruth shrugged, but it was chagrinned. She took a step toward him. "I'm sorry, Spock."
He crossed the distance between them, taking her into his arms. Do you accept, beloved? he asked.
I'll learn to, she answered. It's the best I can do.
We will hope, then, that it is enough for TPen.