With the cessation of power, the Enterprise went dark and all sound but for Human ceased. The ship, however, did not stop. There was no sensor power, no way to monitor the thing that was drawing them after it. It took a few minutes for manual controls to be operated, for light and sound and power to slowly begin to return. On the Bridge, Kirk ordered full braking power. The ship lurched violently, then gradually slowed, coming at last to a full stop. Helm and Navigation wearily congratulated each other. Tense minutes passed. The still unidentified source of their difficulties made no attempt to retrieve its lost prey. If it cared, there was no evidence of it. It was only after several more minutes of expectancy with no resurgence of motion that Kirk sighed in relief. “Whatever it was,” he said, “it seems to have gone on its way.”
The Bridge crew relaxed and a clearly female, clearly satisfied grunt came from Kirk’s communicator. He frowned at it. “Now all we have to do,” he reminded sternly, “is bring the computers back up.”
Jilla lay, panting, on the bed, Spock sitting stiffly on its edge, his fingers steepled in a futile attempt at meditation. The fever had abated, momentarily, but she knew it would resume. Whether or not this was normal for The Time, she had no way of knowing. Nor did she know if Spock’s experience was normal for a male. He seemed to fall prey to small, unconnected bouts of madness. When not in its fiery command, he was unyielding and embarrassed by her proximity, like now. All that was forgotten when the urgency struck him, and he became demanding and possessive and held her to him in an iron grip. Yet she felt the need to be close to him, to feel the heat of his skin, hear his heart beating even when, like now, she was able to think. The lucidity tore at her, her mind desperate to wrench away from that which her body demanded. The agony of her broken vow overwhelmed her. At least, when she burned, she could not remember the pain…
Tears welled in her eyes. Selar had wanted the strictness of the mnorindar vow, had accepted its finality. Yet he was Vulcan, an outworlder. She was the Indiian, how could she be defiling it? I must stop this, I must accept it as he did, now, while I can think, while Spock is quiet and distant.
Yet… how can I turn from him, from the call of scent, of taste, of heat…
She heard the sharp intake of breath. Spock’s fever was returning, responding to her fevered anxiety. It tore sharply into her, and she moved away from him, determined to resist the madness. His hand shot out, grabbing her arm.
“Sal’q,” she said. Water.
He turned, slowly letting go of her. His eyes gleamed in the dim illumination as he watched her, a pale shadow gliding in the darkness. She went to the door to the head, and started to close it. The beast growled a warning. Shaking, Jilla bent her head, leaving the door open.
You must think, she told herself miserably. There must be a way to stop this! It is your infection, surely if you keep yourself from him long enough, he will recover and can leave you to your death.
Fool! It is done! Do you want to die and face Aema? Do you want to face Selar with this sin forever between you?
She is compassionate! She will understand I had no choice! If I stop now, if I accept Judgment and give up my life…
“A’an!” came Spock’s demand from the bed.
She ignored his call, even as the desire ripped through her, her fingers gripping the edge of the sink. No, I will resist! Aema will see it was not my fault…!
“A’an, en kah!” Spock roared the command, sending need shooting into her. Woman, come! Every nerve within her responded to the call, and she found herself stepping helplessly toward it.
NO!
She cried out in anguish and hopeless passion.
The animal reacted immediately to the cry. His mate was in pain! He leapt to her, his instincts demanding he protect her… but when he reached her side, he saw no threat, detected no danger, and to his surprise, she attacked him. He backed a step, disbelieving. She growled a warning, circling away from him. Anger kindled in his eyes. A female defiant? Females obey! Females submit! Trickery, m’lk’tah’fee, she lies! There is no pain, no danger. She will obey!
He sprang forward, ignoring her shrieks and clawing fingers. He grasped her arms, dragging her back to the soft place. She cried with strange sounds, sounds he did not understand: no…I am… Selar’s… I cannot…please… will not betray… Spock, stop… please, I beg you… stop… stop… kroykah!
That sound he knew. Danger. Freeze.
Jilla wept violently, her own animal seething and anguished. “K’lan et alak!” she cried, scuttling backward from him and the bed. “Klee fah, kah if farr!”
She watched as Spock struggled with sentience, fighting the beast. Slowly, some semblance of sanity returned to his eyes, and he locked his gaze onto hers.
“You must,” he rasped. “You will die.”
“I will go to my husband!” Jilla wailed.
“Too late for that, little one,” Spock shook his head wearily, slowly straightening. “Damnation has come. Save your life.” He held out his hand to her.
She shuddered, her blood pulsing within her, demanding she submit to the fierce hunger. Tears sliding down her cheeks, she scrambled to her feet. “No, I accept Judgment,” she stammered, “I accept…”
“I do not!” Spock thundered. “Come to me!”
She shrieked, and rushed forward, almost as if she had been pushed. Spock caught her. When their skin touched, both animals screamed back to life, consuming any other thought.
Slowly, the system was coming back to life. Ruth watched from the monitors in the main core. With power restored, the computer began with its normal hardware checkouts, which she circumvented—reestablishing major systems had priority, and she could run the hardware checks later. Then the main operating system modules loaded, then the monitors and other housekeeping, then control functions for ship’s life support, then engine monitors (Scotty personally called to thank her), then navigation and helm control, and on and on…
All was going well, but strangely, the system seemed to be running a little slow. She frowned, and called up a list of all active processes. There it is, the little bastard. “Computer,” she demanded, “why am I seeing diagnostic program twelve seven alpha listed here?”
“That program is an active process,” the computer responded, apparently unflappable.
“I know it’s an active process, but I want to know why it’s active.”
“That diagnostic program is included in the system list of all programs to be restarted upon reboot.”
“Damn his thorough head.” Of course Spock had already set it to automatically restart whenever the computer was reset. There would be no other way to insure that the statistics it compiled would be complete and accurate. There was one chance—“Computer, terminate diagnostic program twelve seven alpha, using security authorization attached in the indicated file under Commander Spock’s identification account.”
“Unable to comply,” the computer droned. “Betatest debug timeout limit exceeded. Automatic lockout—”
“No, it hasn’t been exceeded, don’t give me that. It’s been less than fifteen minutes since initiation of system reboot, and the first time it took a lot longer than that!”
“Indicated diagnostic program contained only an initial debug time limit,” the computer helpfully explained. Meaning, it didn’t use that method for allowing a shutdown after the first successful test. Spock had assumed that if it worked right the first time, then it was going to work right, period, and didn’t need a second failsafe mechanism.
“Aargh! Okay, computer, remove diagnostic program twelve seven alpha from the list of initial program restarts. Let’s not start it up again after this, shall we?” The Captain wasn’t going to like having to shut the computer down a second time, but if she could insure it would actually work right—
“Unable to comply,” the computer informed her. “That program is locked into system restarts to prevent—”
“—unauthorized tampering,” Ruth finished miserably.
Spock awoke to a shrill whistling sound. The female lay beneath him, her wet heat still surrounding his organ. He was instantly aroused, and annoyed at the sound that hurt his ears. He felt her moving, reacting, then the sound came again and she whimpered. He thrust into her a few times, to calm her, then moved off of her, searching for the irritating sound. A dim part of his memory knew it, and glanced at the desk. But the noise didn’t come from the equipment there. He glanced around the room, puzzled but not knowing quite why, then spotted a small square of metal that lay just inside the door. He crawled over to it, and it again screeched at him. The female whimpered again, and he picked it up. He shook it. It chirped. Some instinct he didn’t recognize made him growl a few hoarse words…
No, that isn’t right.
He fought for clarity. Knowledge formed slowly within him, but his voice was still hoarse when he rasped, “Spock.”
“Sorry for the disturbance,” came a voice he knew. Captain, Lord Warrior. “Computer’s down, just wanted you to know we left your communicator in case you need anything.”
Spock suddenly remembered, there had been voices outside his door, some sort of an emergency…
“Captain, I…”
“Forget it, Spock,” Kirk said tightly. “Dr. McCoy’s working on a way to stop Ensign Majiir’s – uh – reactions. I consider this just highly unorthodox duty. Kirk out.”
Spock closed the communicator and rose, moving unsteadily to the desk. He sat heavily in the chair and allowed his head to rest in his hands. He had no idea how long he and Jilla had been engaged in… His thoughts choked on the words. It seemed a long time, but he could not be sure. He could not be sure of anything. The animal had apparently gone back to sleep – but for how long? When would it waken again? How much more did Jilla require? How much had he already given?
Again, he reminded himself of the necessity of it. Without his cooperation, without his interference, Jilla would die.
Her need had not had the effect on him he had been expecting. He had assumed it would be simply The Time – nothing less, but nothing more – as he has experienced it before. But it was not. That had been a gradual but constant building to madness. This was erratic, almost a switching on and off of emotional and physical urgency. When the animal slept, he felt nothing save embarrassment and hopeless exhaustion. But when the animal woke… he could not even remember that he was bipedal. The beast cared only for the female and mating.
It had existed the other Time, of course, but the combat and T’Pring’s refusal had shattered its hold on him. When it had finished, he could look back on it, analyze it, uneasy over the things that had been done, but aware that they would not reoccur for seven years. But this – this uncertainty, this leaving and returning, was draining him. To know what he had done, to be again rational, then to have it torn away… not once, but over and over, repeating the indignities again and again – that was too much to bear.
He heard a moan and glanced at Jilla. He had no way to judge if her behavior was the norm. That she still attempted to fight the hunger was a tribute either to the Indiian race or to her love for Selar. But either way, it was yet another degradation for him to bear, to have to bring her repeatedly through seduction or near rape to the point where control was no longer possible.
He stood. Enough of this There is a life at stake and you think of your own discomfort. Which is the more important, Spock Sareklrn?
Jilla moaned again, opening her eyes. She reached a hand out across the carpeted deck, and Spock crossed the room to her, kneeling down beside her prone figure. He lifted her into his arms, and called forth the animal that felt none of his weariness.
“How’s it coming, Bones?” Kirk stood in Sickbay while McCoy worked in his lab.
“It’s not!” McCoy snapped. “It’s not bad enough that I don’t have the slightest idea of how to alter this hormonal stimulus, I can’t get into the computer to find out because the damned diagnostic doesn’t consider medical research a priority and I don’t have a sample to experiment on even if I could come up with a plausible way to proceed!”
“Everything’s coming back up, Bones,” Kirk assured. “It’s just taking a little longer than we expected, and no, I don’t know why.” He smiled sympathetically. “I don’t expect miracles.””
“Miracle, hell! Without that damned hunk of transtators and processors I couldn’t cure a hang-nail!”
McCoy’s communicator signaled, and he frowned, reaching toward the table on which it rested. Opening it, he growled, “McCoy!”
“Engineering, Doctor, Ensign Mrraal,” came the Caitian’s voice. “Our automatic monitoring controls just locked up.”
“Well, what do you expect me to do about it?”
Kirk sighed and took the communicator from McCoy’s hand. “Ensign, this is the Captain.”
“I’m trying to locate Ensign Valley, sir. She’s not answering her com frequency. Lieutenant Sherman said she’d gone to Sickbay.”
As if on cue, Ruth walked into the room. “Any luck?” she asked.
“Lots of it, all bad,” McCoy grumbled.
“Miss Valley, Ensign Mrraal needs to speak with you,” Kirk said, his politeness not quite covering his sarcasm. Ruth frowned and took the communicator he held out to her. Kirk heard Mrraal repeat his message, with a great deal more technical information. Ruth’s frown deepened. “Damn it,” she said, then sighed. “Okay, I’ll take care of it.” She glanced up, feeling Kirk’s eyes on her. “Give me fifteen minutes or so. Valley out.” She closed the communicator, and handed it back to Kirk, smiling uneasily.
“What’s the problem, Miss Valley?” Kirk asked sternly.
“Uh… the computer’s running slow and… uh… stalling out certain processes because of it. Another restart should take care of ….”
”Another restart?” McCoy groaned. “How am I supposed to work on…”
“Enough, Bones,” Kirk said. “How much will this delay full recovery, Lieutenant?”
“Um… I can’t really be certain, sir,” Ruth hedged. “It… uh… kind of depends on if… well, if the… if whatever is causing the slowdowns keeps… um… causing slowdowns. Sir.”
“And you don’t know what that is?” Kirk guessed.
“Well… not … that is, not exactly. Sir.”
“But you have a good guess?” he pressed.
“I don’t want to jump to any possibly erroneous conclusions…”
The communicator sounded again.
“Ruthie, why isn’t yours working?” McCoy asked as he retrieved his own to answer it.
“I… uh… tried to use the transtator to… stop the slowdowns in the computer core.” She shrugged, smiling weakly. “It didn’t work.”
“Doctor, this is Lieutenant Simon from Life Support,” said the voice from the communicator. “I’m trying to locate Ensign Valley….”
“Yeah, I know,” McCoy sighed. “Here, Ruth.”
Kirk silently fumed as he listened to Lieutenant Simon report that Life Support systems were slowing down and locking up, and Ruth again promise that she needed a few minutes to fix it.
“Except that it won’t ‘fix’ anything, will it, Miss Valley?” he said after she’d closed the communicator.
“As I said, sir,” she began, “another full restart…”
“Will buy us how much time?” he interrupted.
Ruth stared guiltily at the deck. “Half an hour.” She paused. “Maybe.”
“Why is that, Miss Valley?”
“As I said, sir, I don’t know precisely...”
“Tell me what’s going on, Ensign.”
“It’s kind of technical…”
“I don’t care if it’s in Swahili, Miss Valley, that’s an order!” Kirk finally bellowed.
Ruth took a deep breath. “Mr. Spock was working on a new diagnostic program and he asked me to debug it and I did and he took it back to run a test on it but he must not have been thinking too straight because it was still only a beta version but he let it run and he put in really stringent safety protocols and even set it to restart itself in a reboot and I can’t get it to let me terminate it not even under Spock’s password and clearance and it keeps eating computer resources as it runs and the longer it runs the more it eats which is why everything starts slowing down and locking up but it takes it about twenty minutes to get really problematical so if we just do a complete shutdown and restart every half an hour things should be fine. Sir.”
“Spock did this?” McCoy asked incredulously.
“Well, he was - um – distracted,” Ruth offered lamely.
“We need Spock, don’t we, Miss Valley?” Kirk said grimly.
“Captain, I don’t know if even he’d be able to…” Ruth began.
“Don’t we, Ensign?”
She hung her head. “Yes, sir.”
“You know who’s fault this is, Miss Valley,” Kirk continued sternly. She looked up.
“Selar’s,” she answered firmly. Both men raised an eyebrow and she wondered idly how long they’d been hanging around Spock. “Jilla would’ve died!” she added defensively.
“She’s right, Jim,” McCoy said.
Kirk sighed in frustration. “I know, Bones. It’s not really fair to blame her.” He paused. “But I’m past being fair. Young lady, your matchmaking has endangered my ship!”
“She couldn’t’ve known we’d have to shut down the computer,” McCoy rejoined, “or that Spock would start runnin’ a damn untested diagnostic program.”
“Will you stop being logical?” Kirk shouted, then smiled in spite of himself at the look of shocked indignation on the doctor’s face. “Sorry, Bones, I didn’t mean to insult you.” He took a breath. “And we’ve got more immediate problems than discussing my opinion of Ensign Valley.”
“There is something useful you could do, Ruthie,” McCoy said as Ruth began a reply.
“About time,” Kirk mumbled.
“As if getting us out of the warp nine in reverse wasn’t enough,” Ruth protested.
“As if your ‘solution’ hasn’t gotten the whole ship in emergency mode,” Kirk returned.
“Now wait a minute…”
“I need blood samples from both Spock and Mrs. Majiir,” McCoy broke in. “I haven’t got enough from Jilla’s physical for the kind of experimenting I need to do, and I need to see what Spock’s enzymic level is doing.”
“What?” Ruth said, not daring to believe she would really hear McCoy’s next words.
“It’s very simple. A quick extraction and you’re out.”
“Who, me?”
“You are rated for medical duty.”
“And you did put them in there in the first place,” Kirk added.
“But …”
“You heard the doctor, Miss Valley. We’ll let Spock know you’re coming.”
“But… but… Bwana…!” Ruth sputtered pleadingly.
“Now it’s an order, Ensign.”
McCoy handed her two hypos. "Get going, Ruthie."
The communicator whistled and Jilla jumped. Spock opened his eyes as she backed away from him. He got off the bed, grateful for her realization, and went to the desk. He picked up the communicator, opening it. “Spock,” he said.
“Dr. McCoy needs some blood samples. We’ve sent Ensign Valley.” Kirk spoke quickly, directly. Spock swallowed his unease.
“Understood, Captain.”
He closed the communicator and turned. Jilla was staring at him, her eyes flashing silver fire. He took a deep breath and made his voice the tone of command. “Not yet,” he said. “You will wait.” A look that could only be called a seductive pout came over her features, but she did not approach him. He reflected that, fortunately, whatever else, The Time made females obedient.
He moved to unlock his door, then stopped, realizing he was naked and, with some surprise, that he had gotten used to it. However, Miss Valley would definitely not be accustomed to the sight. He went to his wardrobe, taking out a dark brown desert robe. It was a meditation gown, made according to strict ritual, once believed to aid in concentration. The ritual was still adhered to, though now the gowns were viewed as simply comfortable.
The door chime sounded. He worked the lock and the door slid open. Ensign Valley stood with her head down. He started to speak, then heard a strange sound, something like a hiss, coming from the bed. He turned. Jilla was on her hands and knees, teeth bared, staring warily at the Antari.
“A moment, Ensign,” he said, and walked over to the bed. He spoke harsh words at her, and though her eyes flickered, she dropped to her stomach. He grasped the blanket, covering her naked body. “Come in, Miss Valley, he said.
Ruth was greatly relieved to find Spock clothed and rational. Jilla, however, was obviously neither. She tried not to look as Spock ordered her to lie down, and hesitantly crossed the room at his request. “Dr. McCoy needs…” she began.
“I know,” Spock replied. “The Captain…”
Jilla growled, deep and menacing. Spock glanced at her, and went on. “I would suggest you do quickly what needs to be done.”
“Yes, sir,” Ruth said quietly.
The growl was louder. Ruth prepared the hypo as Spock rolled up his sleeve. She took a step closer to him.
“K’lan et!” Jilla’s voice was hoarse warning. Ruth froze, her eyes widening.
“Et kah!” Spock responded harshly. Jilla whimpered, her eyes still fixed on Ruth. Spock closed his eyes. “Quickly, Ensign,” he said softly.
Ruth hurriedly placed the hypo to his arm, painlessly extracting the blood McCoy needed. As she worked, she touched Spock’s arm, a gesture of awkward comfort and hesitant sympathy and understanding. She looked up at him, met his eyes as they gazed into hers. There was a fire behind them that was both frightening and very attractive…
With a feral cry, Jilla lunged at her. Ruth fell to the deck, incredibly strong fingers clawing at her. She heard Spock shout, “Kroykah! Klee fah!” and Jilla froze, then slowly backed away, her grey eyes flashing murderously.
Spock’s breathing was rapid. “It will be necessary to hold her for you to complete the extraction,” he said, and his voice faltered. “She will fight. The – contact - will stimulate me.” There was agony in his tone. “I would ask that you reset the lock on the door when you leave.”
Ruth stared helplessly at the fierce control and nodded. He turned to Jilla, taking a slow breath. The words that came from his lips were a soft, heavy murmur:
“En kah if farr.”
Jilla nearly leapt into his arms, pressing her body eagerly to his, tearing at the robe. Spock grasped her arm, holding it out to Ruth. “Now, Ensign!”
Jilla felt the touch of cold metal. She jerked her arm, but the male held it fast. She squirmed, struggling to break free. What was he doing? He had called to mate! Why had he summoned another female? She was his mate, no other!
She shrieked at him, tearing at him with her teeth, desperate to prove her passion and arousal before this interloper.
Spock waited, the beast bellowing at the restraint. His blood was on fire, pumping through him with living need. He forced the iron will of centuries of Vulcan culture to the fore, unmoving, non-responsive until Ruth had finished. When the hypo was removed from Jilla’s arm, control broke, and he threw her to the deck, unaware of Ruth rushing, panic-stricken, from the cabin.
Ruth handed the hypos to McCoy.
“Good work, Ruthie,” he said, then added, “Any trouble?” looking speculatively at the healing scratches on her face and neck.
“Oh shut up.”
“Spock sounded rational when I spoke to him,” Kirk said, nearly twenty-four hours later. “Any chance we can leave Ensign Majiir alone for a few hours? We need that diagnostic shut down!”
“The longer she’s in pon farr, the more infrequent her need for rest becomes,” McCoy explained. “Spock’s only going to get – um – more needed.” He glanced up from his microscope and statboard. “It should only be another day, Jim.” He frowned, glancing back at the test results. " – or three."
“Three days,” Kirk groaned. “Bones, I can’t risk automatic power with Spock’s clever little diagnostic locking everything up every twenty minutes. Scotty says the reboots are messing up the timing of the flow converters. They weren’t meant for this constant stop and restart. And the crew’s already living on stim-shots and coffee and I can’t spare the yeomen to keep making it. People are going to start falling asleep at their posts – or worse.” He shook his head. “Whoever said four hundred and twenty people can run a starship never figured on doing it without automatic anything.” He slammed his fist down on the table. “Damn it, Bones, I need Spock!”
“So does Jilla,” McCoy muttered.
“Somebody should give Ruth Valley a good spanking.”
“Now Jim, don’t be too hard on her,” McCoy soothed. “Anyway, I think I might have an answer. I haven’t tested it yet, but…”
“For god’s sake, man, what is it!”
“Clinically, at least by all the tests I can run without the computer, I’ve found a serum that seems to reverse the effect of the chemical build-up that signals the start of pon farr. I can’t be sure that’s gonna do any good once it’s actually started, and I don’t know if it’ll react the same in someone’s blood stream…”
“Bones,” Kirk fumed in exasperation. “Can’t you find out, inject a rabbit or something?”
“Not until I can inject one with pon farr,” McCoy returned.
“Well, do that, then!” Kirk snapped.
“If certain captains would stay out of my hair, I just might!”
Kirk stalked out of sickbay as McCoy banged his instruments around. Kirk was right. Someone should give Ruth Valley a good spanking.
Twenty-four hours later, Kirk was standing by the main computer core. The situation had gone beyond tedium and inconvenience. The tension in Engineering was getting dangerously high, human error becoming an all too likely occurrence with each hour that passed. With the matter/antimatter separation dependent on the magnetic field that now had to be monitored and kept constant manually… Scott had reported a near disaster. The technician on duty had made an adjustment to the field when he shouldn’t have, and it was only the fact that his relief had shown up early and caught the mistake that had prevented a major explosion. Kirk had wanted to call Spock then and there and order him to duty. McCoy had insisted that it would be impossible, and not only because of Mrs. Majiir’s condition. Spock would be in no better condition to work than anyone else on the ship. If he wasn’t in pon farr himself, he’d be near total exhaustion. So Kirk had gone to the computer core to put the question to Ruth Valley.
“You saw him, Ensign,” he demanded. “Is he capable of functioning, just for a few hours?”
Ruth sighed. She was in deep trouble with the captain, she knew, and it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t started the damned diagnostic. It wasn’t easy, she acknowledged that, but if everyone would just keep alert, and not let the repetition get to them… It’s only been two days, she thought gloomily. Most Academy graduates pull weekenders during finals. This is really no different.
Of course, at the Academy, we had replicators to make the coffee – and food…
She hadn’t realized how tiring it was. People had to be assigned to the kitchens that were supposed to be a part of the recreation facilities. Which meant less people for other areas of the ship. Which meant less time off for those other people.
So how bad would it be – really – to interrupt Spock for just a little while…
Her memory gave her a clear picture of the tightly controlled passion and anguish in dark, Vulcan eyes.
She sighed again and returned her attention to the Captain. “I would say not, sir,” she replied. “Definitely not.”
He rubbed his hand over his face. “Miss Valley,” he began, and was interrupted by the beeping of his communicator. He nearly shook it apart opening it. “What?” he snapped.
“It’s McCoy, Jim,” came the doctor’s voice. “I think I may have an answer…”
The communicator was snapped shut as Kirk headed at full speed for Sickbay, with Ruth right at his heels.
A rabbit hopped unconcernedly around in its cage. “She’s undoubtedly pregnant now, and her mate, Jim-boy here, had one hell of a good time.” McCoy absently petted the large brown lump of fur in his arms. "But she’s over it, alive, healthy and has suffered no side effects I can detect. The injection caused some initial pain, but it passed quickly." He smiled, obviously pleased with himself. “There you have it.”
“Will it work on Jilla?” Ruth asked, trying to keep a straight face over the name of the male rabbit.
“It should. It does on paper, and Ruthie’s all right.” Suddenly the male rabbit’s name wasn’t so funny. “I made allowances for Mrs. Majjir’s mercury-based blood, so all we can do is try it.”
Kirk had his communicator out. “Spock,” he said, and waited. “Spock.”
“Spock,” came a voice that was hoarse and tired.
“McCoy’s done it. We’re sending Ensign Valley with…”
“Not again!” Ruth exclaimed.
“…an injection for Ensign Majiir,” Kirk finished. “Kirk out.”
“Why me?” Ruth pleaded.
“One, you’ve already seen him like this, and I don’t think Spock needs more embarrassment.” Kirk replied sternly. “Two, you are rated for medical duty, as Dr. McCoy has pointed out. Three, you’re a keheil and would be able to handle anything that went wrong. And four, Ruth dear,” Kirk smiled sweetly, “you started this.”
The three of them stood at Spock’s cabin door.
“Captain, shouldn’t a nurse do this?” Ruth stalled. “Or a doctor familiar with Terran medical…”
“You’re qualified, Miss Valley,” Kirk replied.
“It’s very embarrassing sir.”
“It’s necessary. You are interested in saving both Ensign Majiir and the Enterprise, aren’t you?”
“Well, of course, but…”
“Ruthie, just get it over with,” McCoy interrupted.
“Bones, don’t make me go in there again,” Ruth pleaded, willing him to understand what she couldn’t say.
“Ensign Valley…” Kirk began.
“Captain, please!"
Kirk gave her a not-so-gentle shove. “In you go.”
Spock stood at the desk. It will all be over soon, he thought wearily. He was tired, more exhausted than he could ever remember being. Jilla had become increasingly demanding. The animal within her was totally dominant now, only allowing, at most, fifteen minutes of rest at a time. And when it woke, she was more desirous than before. She was sleeping now. If she stayed asleep…
His mind felt her touch before his back felt the rubbing of her head against him. The contact was electric and his weariness fell away. He turned.
Jilla entwined her arms around her mate, caressing the sensitive ears, savoring the slightly bitter taste of his lips and throat. He was speaking to her, his hands gripping her shoulders as if to keep her from him. She didn’t understand the words he spoke, but the tone said wait. Yet it wavered, it was not strong, not a command. Did he tease? Did he want her to prove her worth, he the pursued, she the skilled huntress? She shivered pleasurably at the thought. I will hunt you well, my deserving sovereign!
Her hands began to explore him more insistently. She let the strength in her fingers grasp and caress him, engorging him to the painful erection that would demand satisfaction. She could feel the excitement filling him, the heat rushing through him. His protests became weaker, more halting, and it emboldened her. She crooned his name.
He moaned.
She let her gaze smolder into his. “Kah’pln tringah.” Come master my beauty.
The hands at her shoulders dropped to her hips, pulling her forward.
"Kah if farr, en kah!” Her voice was an enticing, husky whisper and all his reservation exploded into fiery action. The animal welcomed him, dropping to the strange, hard ground beneath them. There was no time, no desire for the soft place. Here! Now!