Home is the Heart

by Rae Trail

NEW: Home is the Heart

Codes: TOS; K/S; A/U

Rating: NC-17

Author: Rae Trail

Warning: Brief Queer-bashing (not too horrible) and m/m sex.

Disclaimer: All things Trek belong to Paramount and Viacom. I am only taking the boys on a long, long ride.

Summary: a tranporter accident sends the boys a long way from home.

Feedback: Yum! good or bad, e-me at ASCEM newsgroup by hitting your reply button, or at raetrail at yahoo dot ca

Archive: ASCEM; Allslash; Marianne; others please ask.

Thanks: to my ever-ready beta, my own bondmate; bacchus. Special thanks to those who gave fb on the short version, most especially Jenna, whose comments helped shape this story.

Notes: Originally published as a much shorter story for K/S Appreciation Day, this story was improved, lengthened and is being republished as more of a novella. If you think you've read it by reading the short story, you haven't! LOL! This version is MUCH better!

"Vulcan was architect, smith, armourer, chariot builder, and artist of all work in Olympus. He built of brass the houses of the gods; he made for them the golden shoes with which they trod the air or the water, and moved from place to place with the speed of the wind, or even of thought. He also shod with brass the celestial steeds, which whirled the chariots of the gods through the air, or along the surface of the sea. He was able to bestow on his workmanship self-motion, so that the tripods (chairs and tables) could move of themselves in and out of the celestial hall. He even endowed with intelligence the golden handmaidens whom he made to wait on himself."

Thomas Bulfinch "The Age of Fables"

Home is the Heart

By Rae Trail

Part1 of 10.

"Where the hell are we, Spock?" Kirk shouted as he glanced around, trying to fit the picture of hundreds of sweaty human men, brilliant flashing lights and unbelievably loud noise into the universe that, 10 seconds ago, had only included the Enterprise's transporter room. "What happened?"

"Unknown." Spock leaned down toward his ear, voice raised. They were being jostled against a black wall in a black-walled room, surrounded and pressed upon by the men around them. "It appears to be a celebration of some sort. However, the clothing and music, and the distinct odour of tobacco, indicate that it is Earth of a much earlier time period than you and I expected to arrive in. In fact, if I am correct about the song we are hearing, it is approximately the turn of the 21^st century, Christian style. 1410 to about 1425 Islamic, or 2.5 million Julian."

"What *is* that music?"

"At the time this tune was released, the performer did not actually have a pronounceable name."

"Why am I not surprised? Mister, if you're right, you've gotta cover those ears. And let's get out of this noise!" Kirk looked around, but couldn't see over the heads of the crowd well enough to figure out where an exit might be. "Spock, can you see a way out?"

Spock peered around, his extra centimetres giving him a distinct advantage. Kirk suddenly poked Spock lightly in the ribs with his elbow. "Someone is looking at you."

"Several people are looking at you, as well. There is an illuminated red sign on the opposite wall that says, "exit". Beside that I can see a staircase and two doorways."

"Let's go."

He kept close to Spock's back as they crossed the room, skirting a wooden-floored area seething with dancing men. When the door closed behind them he sucked in the smoke-free air of the street and leaned hard against the concrete block wall. "Lord, I thought they outlawed tobacco earlier than this!" He pulled out his communicator and activated it, then put it away again. "Nothing."

"We are in full view, sir. I suggest we move around the corner, out of the direct light."

Kirk realized that Spock was right, and followed the taller form into the deep shadow of the alleyway. Once safe from public scrutiny he sagged against the wall again. He realized Spock was looking at him in some concern. "Sorry, Spock. Just dizzy for a moment. Some side-effect of what happened, I guess."

"Likely. And the tobacco smoke was dense in that nightclub." Spock lifted a hand toward him, and then let it fall. "I am feeling rather disoriented as well."

"We're... do you suppose this is San Francisco? Only in an earlier time?"

"It appears to be geographically similar to where we were intending to arrive, noting the angle of the street. However it is much colder than I would expect for San Francisco. I estimate the latent air temperature at 7 or 8 degrees centigrade." Kirk noticed the cold only when Spock mentioned it. They would have to find shelter, make it a priority. He half hoped to feel the transporter effect at any moment, though, and realized that he was in some sort of shock. "The population in the nightclub was predominately Caucasian with a large minority of Oriental and African types. Typical for San Francisco. However, I note that sign across the street offers "37 Flavours" of ice cream, and the 'u' in flavour was not utilized in the United States."

Kirk shook his head at the fountain of bizarre knowledge that was the amazing man he called his First Officer. "So, if not San Francisco..."

"Intriguing. I distinctly smell salt in the air, so we are close to an ocean. To have a men's club such as we arrived in, we are in a society tolerant of homosexuality. For this time period, the racial mixture, and considering we are hearing and reading a form of old style English, I think Liverpool, London, Vancouver, or St. John's are most likely. Possibly Halifax. Considering the air temperature and the fact that there are fallen leaves amidst the detritus in the street, indicating autumnal weather, I submit it is unlikely to be much further south than any of those. And there is that 'u', and the shabby quality of construction in the few buildings across from us. England's architecture tended to be of a different style and very well constructed. I believe we must be in Canada."

Kirk rubbed his arms. "So we're freezing to death somewhere in Canada, outside a dance club for homosexual men. Not how I intended to die, Spock. Recommendations?"

"We should remain close to this site, as Mr. Scott will be trying to reverse-engineer the incident, whatever it was, that moved us in time and space. It is always easiest to scan an alien life form that is proximate than one that is distant."

"You, you mean."

"Yes, sir. It may only take moments, or it may take years. The paradoxes of time travel are not unknown to us. I would also not like to leave it all up to Mr. Scott. It may be appropriate to find some "stone knives and bear skins"."

Kirk looked up and laughed. "Mr. Spock, you always amaze me. For now, I'd settle for a coat or a warm room. Is it the kind of place we might locate a shelter for homeless men, or a mission, like the place Edith Keeler operated?"

"Certainly it is possible. I suggest..." he fell silent, listening. Kirk perked up immediately. "People approach. I believe we should conceal ourselves."

Kirk could hear it then, too. Male voices, moving rapidly toward them from further down the alley. He stared around but there was no place to hide. Without thinking he reached up and grabbed Spock's ears, pulling him down into a kiss. "No 'rice-picker' stories this time," he whispered, and Spock's arms came up around his back.

"Jim," Spock whispered, startled by the sensation of speaking directly into the Captain's open mouth. "I do not think they're coming closer."

Kirk listened, and then released Spock. "You're right," he agreed. There was a scuffle, then mean, hard voices, a couple of them, and another voice that sounded frightened. "He's calling for help, Spock! He's being attacked!"

"We cannot help, Captain. You know the Temporal Directives as well as I do."

A short scream, followed by a thud, and Kirk was away from the wall and running toward the disturbance. Spock followed a second later. Kirk had been right; two men, two big men, had a third pushed up against the wall and were punching and kicking him viciously. Kirk launched himself at the nearest one in silence. With an almost human sigh Spock reached around and dropped the second one with a nerve pinch. He had barely realized he was under attack and had not even flinched. Spock turned to see Kirk deliver a ferocious right upper cut that felled the first attacker, and then shake his hand rapidly as if it hurt him.

The third man had slumped to the ground when his tormentors had released their grips, and he half-lay against the wall, retching. Kirk bent down beside him. "You okay?"

The stranger nodded. Spock checked their opponents' pulses, then grabbed the heavy black watch cap from one's head and snugged it over his own ears before turning back to the humans. "Si... Jim, we must not linger."

"He's hurt, Spock. Can you walk? Do you live close by?"

The stranger nodded again, and Kirk jacked him to his feet with a hand under one arm. "Thanks, man. They would probably have killed me."

"What did they want? Were they robbers?"

"Not even that much brains. Queer bashers." The stranger retched again. He was slim, late twenties, with dark skin and black curly hair in myriad tiny braids. "They wanted me dead. Jesus, that hurts."

"Perhaps, a hospital."

"I'd rather just go home."

Kirk nodded decisively. "Let's get you out of here before they wake up. Which way?"

"Left at the street. It's not far, thank god."

They helped him in silence, one on either side, down the road and into a tall apartment building. At the desk a uniformed man came to his feet. "Mr. Redding! Are you all right? Should I call an ambulance? Police?"

The dark man shook his head. "I'll be okay. These guys stopped the fight before it really got going. Hey, I hate to impose on you two, but my knee..."

"We'll see you up to your apartment." Kirk helped the man to the elevator. "What floor?"

"Nineteen. Apartment nineteen twenty-one. Keys..." He lifted his arm from Spock's shoulder and fished in his pocket. "There. God, this hurts."

"I'll bet. My name's Jim Kirk, by the way. This is Spock."

"Pete. Pete Redding." He was trembling violently. Aftershock, Kirk supposed. "I can't believe they grabbed me so close to the Green Man!"

The two Enterprise officers exchanged a startled look. "The Green Man?" Kirk asked.

"That's the club's name. You must be from out of town."

"San Francisco," Kirk agreed. "Just arrived here, and don't know our way around."

"Welcome to Vancouver. Not a very nice reception was it?"

Spock opened the door to the man's apartment and let them in, then closed and secured it behind them. "Jim, I suggest Pete should remove his shirt and trousers so that we can check for any possible internal damage."

"I really just want a shower and a drink. Help me into the washroom, will you? I think I twisted this knee, trying to get away from those assholes. Damn!" Kirk set him lightly on the toilet seat and surveyed him.

"Can you undress yourself?"

"If you will get me a nice, stiff drink. I think I deserve single malt, after that. Bar's beside the stereo. Help yourselves. God, god, god. This coat is ruined! Kirk? Jim Kirk? And your friend is Spock?"

"Yeah, just Spock. The rest of his name is in an obscure Asian dialect, totally unpronounceable." Jim turned back to Spock's raised eyebrow and grinned.

"Were you at a costume party or something? Are those some kind of roll-playing costumes?"

"Something like that." Kirk watched as Pete began to unbutton his coat, then walked back into the living area and found the requested bottle of scotch. He poured a generous portion for all three of them and leaned close as he handed Spock his. "You look around. See if there's a recent newspaper, anything we can use to get current."

Spock took his drink, knowing it was a form of camouflage rather than something he was expected to consume, and nodded, beginning a slow turn around the apartment. Kirk returned to the bathroom, where Pete was struggling with his pants. "My hands hurt," he complained. "I did get a couple of punches in. People don't realize how much it *hurts* to punch someone."

"Tell me about it. Here, let me do that." Kirk helped him stand and crouched before him as Pete downed half the whisky in a single gulp. He deftly undid the belt and buttons, and supported Pete as he stepped out of his pants. Nearly naked, the beaten man sat back on the toilet seat, and Kirk looked him over critically. "Hard to see the extent of the bruising on such dark skin, but I think you're right about that knee. It's swelling. I'd guess you dislocated the kneecap temporarily, maybe when they pushed you against the wall? Tell me if anything hurts really badly," he ordered, and began a gentle tactile examination of the man's torso. Pete looked at him, surprised.

"Are you a doctor or something?"

"No, just advanced first aid training. I used to be in the navy. That's stung you," he continued, finding a knot under the skin high up on one shoulder.

"Yeah, my arm hurts. From when they threw me down the first time, I think. Before I ran. And they twisted my arms pretty hard."

"Well, you may have cracked the scapula, but unless you'll go for an... an x-ray, you won't know for sure until tomorrow. Can you raise your arm? Good. Probably just bruised. Your belly doesn't hurt you, and believe me, that's a good thing. Looks like you got lucky and nothing in your abdomen was hit too hard. Helps that you're in good shape, too. A hot shower should help with the muscle damage. Do you have anything to wrap the knee in after you're done?"

"Yeah." Pete quaffed off the rest of the whiskey. "I think I can manage the shower on my own."

"Holler if you need a hand." Kirk backed out of the bathroom and shut the door, then joined Spock near a door on the opposite side of the living room. After a moment he heard the water starting up, and spoke. "Well?"

"Relatively lucky, Captain. It is October 2003, which means personal computers are readily available, as well as ample adequate technology to construct a pre-amplifier for our communicators, providing good sub-space coverage. Furthermore, Internet security is still rather naive. I should be able to hack us into any sort of database we require."

"You can get us money, then, and credentials."

"If required, yes." Spock watched Kirk sip his drink. "Captain, I must point out that we should not have interfered in Mr. Redding's assault. We may already have irrevocably changed the timeline."

"Or we may have just done the right thing. As you say, the paradoxes are real. If we did it, it was done." He shook his head. "I still believe it was right that Edith should die. But we were there; perhaps the only reason she died is that we let her."

Spock heard the bitterness there. "Can we afford not to make that choice here, Captain?"

"We already have, Spock. I couldn't let another person die, not again, and stand helplessly by. And to die for such a stupid reason! Queer-bashing! It's nauseating." Kirk flopped down on the couch and looked around. "This is a nice apartment. I'd guess Pete isn't too badly off."

"He also has a satisfactory computer array in the next room, which I take to be an office of sorts. There are, additionally, two bedrooms, another bathroom, a large kitchen and a study, or library. I would guess him to be an upper income earner."

"Good guess." Neither had heard the bathroom door open, but Pete was leaning against the jamb, a towel wrapped around his waist, fastening his wristwatch and staring at them. "Are you planning to rob me?"

"No." Kirk shook his head and smiled, though his mind was working furiously to concoct a story that would explain them. "It's just that... we're not used to seeing one guy have such luxury. We're not employed, right now. Times are a bit tough."

"Ah... so you're hoping for a reward." He disappeared into the bathroom again and then hopped out, carrying a small white box sporting a red cross, and his empty glass. Spock crossed to him quickly and helped him to the couch.

"In fact, we are not looking for a reward," he began, but Kirk cut him off.

"We may be in a position to mutually assist one another." Pete eyed him up and down, then opened the box. An instant later he was holding a gun, aimed squarely at Kirk's chest. Spock made an involuntary move, but Kirk shook his head. "We won't harm you, Pete, or take anything from you."

"You bet you won't. What sort of mutual assistance did you have in mind? What do I owe you for saving my life?"

Kirk opened his mouth, then glanced up at Spock and shook his head. "I guess we should just go, try to find a mission or something. Do you know if there is a men's shelter, Pete?"

"A shelter?" The gun wavered. "You're *that* broke?"

"Not a penny to our names. Robbed, though we'd prefer to keep the police out of it. We didn't do anything wrong, but... well, people could get hurt. Lost our clothes. These we found in that alley. We don't even know what the hell we're supposed to represent, really." Kirk managed to sound rueful. "But you've had a bad night, and you don't need us making you nervous, and I don't want to get shot. Is there a mission, or a shelter?"

"You're clean shaven, and you've recently washed. Surely you have some resources."

"Not here, we don't."

Pete stared from one to the other. Let his gaze linger on Spock for a long minute. "Are you lovers?"

"That's none of your business," Kirk replied. Pete re-aimed the gun at Kirk, and cocked it. "Hey, calm down," he protested, but Pete's eyes shifted back and forth between them restlessly.

"Take off your hat," he told Spock, his voice flat.

"Pete..."

"Mr. Redding..."

"There is something just *not right* about you. Your voice, your features. You look almost... green. It's 25 degrees in here, and you're wearing a hat. Take it off, or I'm gonna shoot him," he said, in such a calm voice that Kirk was sure he meant it. The gun, pointed at his chest, would probably kill him instantly at this range, and Redding was not having a good night. He glanced up at Spock.

"Do it, Spock."

"But that..."

"Do it." He raised one hand to his face, very slowly, imitating a mind-meld position, and saw Spock's comprehension.

Spock slowly complied. There were several long moments of silence, and then Pete lowered the gun and slid the safety on. He leaned forward and set it on the table, sat back and sighed. "Okay. I'll tell you what. You tell me what's going on, and I'll help if I think it's not... hell, if I don't think you're evil, or lying. After all, you saved my life. But you are obviously not from San Francisco, Spock. I have always firmly believed in extra-terrestrial life, but that doesn't mean I want an alien in my living room."

"I am not from Earth. You are correct. However, my people study pacifism as a way of life. It is beyond my ability to wish you harm."

"Alien Amish," Pete said, and heard Kirk's low chuckle. "You," he said, turning back to Kirk, "look as Human as I do."

"I am. I'm from Iowa, though I live in San Francisco. Normally."

Pete took his time looking from one to the other, and then sighed deeply. "Why don't you get the scotch and fill me in. Welcome to Earth, by the way, Spock."

"Thank you, Mr. Redding."

"Pete, please," the dark man replied, opening the box again, but this time removing an elastic bandage.

"I will get the scotch." He carried the bottle to the table and refilled the Humans' glasses, then plucked the bandage out of Pete's hand and, sitting on the table before him, began to wrap his swollen knee. He was pleased that the Human didn't flinch away from him. Using the lightest of touches he probed the man's emotions. Extreme curiousity, fascination; things Spock understood perfectly well. "Captain, please see if there is any ice in the kitchen. The application of a cold compress will reduce the inflammation."

"Sure." Kirk got up and sauntered away. Pete cleared his throat and called after him.

"There's a bag of frozen peas. In the freezer." He glanced back at Spock. "You call him 'captain'?"

"We serve aboard the same starship. I generally reserve his name for use when we are alone. On duty, he is my captain. I believe, that in our current emergency, I am on duty."

"Jesus." Pete swallowed scotch noisily. "I can't believe this is happening. Look, there *are* no space-ship captains from Iowa, Spock. In fact, there are no space-ship captains anywhere, not counting the shuttles and moon rockets. Does that mean you're not just space-travellers, but time-travellers?"

"That is an accurate assessment. I am impressed with your ability to assimilate new ideas. We are here, and now, through an accidental occurrence." He finished wrapping the knee and accepted the bag of frozen peas from Kirk, who flopped back down on the couch. "Thank you, sir."

"Welcome. Pete, we have a paradox. We've accidentally travelled in time before, and several incidents happened which changed the future. Our future. It isn't possible to tell whether we were meant to do those things or not. And our first act coming here was saving your life, which might have been irredeemably stupid on my part, but I just couldn't walk away." He shifted toward Pete and let his curiousity show. "I must say that you're taking this very calmly. I was expecting screams, fear, or denial, at the very least."

"Hell, I'm a SETI volunteer, and a huge science fiction fan from way back. Plus I think I'm in shock. I think it's unbelievably cool that I get to meet you." Pete lifted and flexed his shoulders, wincing. "You did save my life though. You mean it should be that those guys killed me?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps only seriously harmed you, which would undoubtedly have changed your life in significant ways. We have no way of telling from this perspective." Satisfied with his first-aid, Spock rose from the table and settled himself into an armchair. "There are numerous fields of thought about time-travel, or temporal displacement, as we refer to it. All agree that without an approved mathematical model, it should be avoided. No one has, as yet, devised an approved model, though several show promise. Proving them provides its own paradox, as utilizing temporal displacement on purpose affects the outcome just as any observation by accident does. Consequently, our society has decreed that, if an accidental displacement occurs, the displaced should attempt as little interaction as possible with the inappropriate time-line."

Pete puzzled that out, and then nodded. "I understand. How far out are you, exactly?"

"Three hundred fifty seven point two nine standard years. If that is today's newspaper on the table."

Redding looked from Spock to Kirk. "He does that pretty well."

"He's the most brilliant man you will ever meet," Kirk replied. "And if you'll let him use your computer, he may be able to get us back where we belong without disrupting this time-line much more than we already have."

"But then you'll have to kill me," Pete said wryly. Kirk grinned.

"Naw, not after drinking your good scotch. That would be bad manners." He stretched, flexed the hand he had used to hit the attacker with, and then glanced around. "What time is it here?"

"Just a little after ten pm," Redding replied, glancing at his wristwatch. "Does that mean anything to you?"

"Twenty two hundred. You're a late night person, then?"

"Yup. Though I'm feeling a bit beat tonight." He laughed. "Beat. I usually don't make such bad puns. Okay, you can stay in the other room, that one over there. I'm hungry, how about you two?"

"We were on our way to a dinner party when we ended up at 'The Green Man'," Kirk replied. "If your hospitality stretches to a cheese sandwich, it would be welcome. Mr. Spock doesn't eat meat."

"The Green Man! No wonder you looked surprised by that," he chuckled, looking at Spock. "I can heat us all up some pasta. There's a microwaveable spinach lasagne in the freezer. Will that do?"

"I will attend to it. I'm sure the controls are rudimentary, and you should continue icing your knee." Spock rose and padded out of the room. Kirk loosened the collar of his dress uniform tunic and rose as well.

"With your permission, I would like a shower."

"Help yourself to the toiletries, Captain."

"Thanks, but I'm not your captain, Pete. Call me Jim."

"Sure, Jim. There are some robes I keep for guests, in the closet of your bedroom. Help yourself."

"Thanks." He pulled out his communicator and activated it, but it still showed no signals at all in the frequencies the Federation used. Hardly surprising. Shut it again. Saw Pete looking at him, and said; "Communications device."

"Looks like a big cell phone. Dammit!" Pete sat up abruptly. "I had my cell on when those guys jumped me. It's probably still in the alleyway! I'd better report it now, or some asshole will be charging up long distance on it. Can you hand me the telephone?"

Kirk glanced where Pete pointed, and picked up the instrument he indicated. "Haven't seen one of these in a long time," he said, handing it to the man on the couch. He watched as Pete punched a series of numbers and then began to report the loss of his equipment. Presumably, Kirk thought, to the leasing company. He shrugged and turned toward the second bedroom. Either they trusted Pete or they were dead. They were too helpless in this time not to require *someone's* help.

"So... let me see if I get this. You want to use my computer to research available equipment to build a... 'sub-space' radio amplifier. Then buy the necessary equipment and build one. After that you wait for someone to come looking for you and signal them. What about those communications devices of yours?"

"Limited range, only a few hundred kilometres. We were supposed to land in San Francisco," Kirk replied. "They'll start the search for us there, once they locate us in time. We can speed up the process of the search, making it a lot less dangerous for everyone, by building an amplifier for our communicators that can broadcast and receive within a couple of AU's. Sorry, Astronomical Units. About 150 million kilometres, the average distance from here to the sun. Sub-space isn't limited by the speed of light, like normal radio, so there will be no time lag between their signal and our response. They'll hear us as they come in, and be able to move to transporter range without having to get too close to Earth, and possibly disrupt local communication satellites. Matter transporters. We call it 'beaming' from place to place."

"You know, I understood that. And my momma told me reading science fiction was a waste of time." Pete pushed his lasagne plate away. "How are they going to locate you in this time? I presume they have all of history to search?"

Spock steepled his fingers. "The actual achievement of getting a starship back through time is possibly too difficult for you to understand. I must assume that Chief Engineer Scott will reverse-engineer the accident that displaced us. That will give him an approximate time to search. From there it is up to us. A classified advertisement in the newspaper is our most likely source of assistance. A San Francisco newspaper, preferably, as the search parameters will begin with our assumed point of arrival, would be best. Also, from my own researches, I know that the archives of most of the areas newspapers survived until our time."

"We can do that online right now," Pete said. He stood up and limped toward his office. "Jim, can you grab my wallet out of my pants? I left them in the bathroom."

"Sure."

Minutes later Pete was inputting his credit information, and waiting for his guests to come up with their ad. "Information wanted. Captain James T. Kirk and Commander Spock cha'Sarek seek Montgomery Scott. Any UFP personnel respond with details, especially regarding USS Enterprise. NCC1701. Have travelled to Vancouver, Canada, " Kirk suggested. Pete nodded as he typed it in. "Spock? You think that will do it?"

"You have used several good flags. I have no doubt it will be efficacious."

"You want an email address on that?" Pete asked. "I have a couple I don't use much."

"Better put something, I suppose, or it will look strange."

"Okay." Pete typed something further, and then pressed the 'Enter' key again. "I've set it to repeat every couple of days until I cancel it. Should be in tomorrow's morning edition," he finished, yawning widely. "And I am ready to sleep. I feel like someone used me for a punching bag. Funny, that."

"Can Spock use the computer? He doesn't need much sleep."

Pete eyed the alien man thoughtfully. "Well, it has my life's work on it. If you accidentally screw up it'll take me days to reload everything I need. I design computer programs for a living, you see."

"I built something similar to this when I was approximately 6 years old, Mr. Redding, for a class in the history of information systems. There are no mysteries here for me, and I will not invade your private files. My people value personal privacy."

Pete held his eyes. "Something about you inspires trust. You could lie to me, and I'd believe everything you said, wouldn't I?"

"Vulcans do not lie, Mr. Redding. Perhaps you are somewhat empathic, and sense my honest intentions." He waited, hands folded behind his back. Pete finally nodded.

"Knock yourself out, Mr. Spock. Only if anything crashes, let me know, okay? I don't mind being woken up."

"Understood. Goodnight, Mr. Redding. Your hospitality is most appreciated."

Kirk waited until Redding was gone, then turned to his friend. "I can't believe how lucky we were. Of all the people we could have run into, we find someone smart enough, brave enough, and imaginative enough, to take us at face value."

"Indeed. A most unlikely occurrence. Yet not unwelcome." Spock settled into the chair before the computer and glanced over the screen. "This system is adequate to my needs, if the appropriate components are advertised for sale through this medium."

"How close are we to the Eugenics Wars, Spock?"

"Far enough that we have time to find adequate sanctuary should rescue fail." The Vulcan began taping keys, watching the machine's response. "I, however, have no wish to live through them, an alien on a world gone mad. I have a good deal of work to accomplish, sir..."

"I'm going. There's another warm robe in our closet, Spock. Don't hesitate to shower before you come to bed. You won't wake me up."

Spock investigated sources for the more esoteric equipment he needed; it didn't take long, as the search programs of the time were becoming quite efficient. He calculated the rough cost of the mail-order items, made a list using another program, added a second list of common items he should be able to purchase from any respectable electronics shop. He re-read them, in order to be sure they included everything needed; this was going to be much simpler than the device he has constructed in the 1930's. How far this society had come in a mere 70 years!

Spock printed both lists out and set them beside the computer, weighted down with a box of discs, to discuss with Pete and Kirk in the morning. It was nearly oh-four hundred when he followed the 'shut-down' procedures and padded out of the computer room.

He checked first on Redding. The human was lying on his side, deeply asleep, a pillow supporting his injured knee. Spock surmised that he hadn't moved since lying down, from the state of the bedcovers and the pillows. Not surprising. Redding would be extremely stiff in the morning.

Spock did another tour of the apartment, trying to make the alien, antique furnishings and equipment seem familiar, then carefully checked the door locks and shut off the lights.

In the second bedroom Kirk was also asleep, though somewhat restless. Spock moved into the bathroom soundlessly, suddenly reluctant to get into bed with his captain, his friend.

Kirk had kissed him.

It had been an inspired move, in terms of disguise. No one tolerant of homosexuals would have more than glanced at two men, kissing outside a gay bar. Perhaps not so clever, now that they realized that gays were not, yet, fully accepted here and now. Yet something had moved Spock to enter into the embrace.

And later, asked point-blank in a life-threatening situation, Kirk hadn't made the obvious choice and told Redding they were lovers. Nor had he said they weren't. He had said 'that is none of your business'."

Illogical. In recruiting the assistance of a gay man, posing as homosexuals would have been a brilliant cover story. Yet Kirk had risked everything. Not in denial, but in the insistence upon privacy. "That is none of your business."

Perhaps Kirk was merely wiser in the ways of humans, as usual. For truly, in their own time, it was no one's business to ask. Unless one was meeting someone for the first time and was looking for a sexual partner in a hurry, certainly not the case in the living room this evening. Spock was fully aware of his friend's highly active libido, and the fact that Kirk would sate his sexual needs with persons of almost any sex, race, or colour. But he never yet had that attention turned on himself.

Kirk had kissed him. Admittedly, it was in the line of duty. But how long had Spock been trying to evoke that response in Kirk, and finally given up, convinced that tall, male and green was the one sort of being Kirk would not respond to? Perhaps Kirk knew that a liaison with a Vulcan was not a casual thing, not something to be done lightly. Spock had often speculated about whether Kirk, or any human, was able to maintain a life-long monogamous relationship. His mother appeared to be doing it, but on Vulcan there were other options, for special occasions, events, needs. There were whole monasteries full of people dedicated to 'casual' sex with needy Vulcans during difficult times. However, Kirk would not want to limit his horizon to the Vulcan sky and Vulcan partners.

Kirk had kissed him. Spock rubbed a hand over his lips, trying to make the tingling sensation go away. He felt as if he had been slapped.

Well, they wouldn't be here long, and starting something in this atavistic setting was probably unwise. He remembered the pain of watching Jim with Edith, of that silly altercation over the single bed. How he longed to have that time back! He would have behaved differently... but that was paradoxical. He could not have behaved differently. He was who he was, at that time.

Time paradoxes being what they were, he half expected to be plucked off of the planet before he even had time to shop for the sub-space amplifier materials. Scott would find the advertisement and park Enterprise over Vancouver. Within an hour or so of the paper's publication they should be back aboard.

So what to do about Redding? Kirk's assumption that a mind-meld could be used to change memories in the non-telepathic was correct; witness Rayna. Spock was still trying to convince himself that he had acted altruistically that time, and not out of jealousy.

Spock's ability to rationalize irrational acts was beginning to disturb him.

He showered briefly, as always disliking the increase in humidity in the air he breathed, and towelled dry. And then, taking his courage in both hands, he lowered himself gingerly into the bed and pulled the covers up snugly.

"Spock."

He went rigid from head to toe at Kirk's voice. He struggled for composure, and then turned stiffly on his side. "Captain."

"About earlier."

Trust the human not to let things be. Spock took three deep breaths, stilling his panic and his immediate physiological response to Jim's closeness and nudity. "Yes? What, exactly? Many things have occurred today."

That was a good response. He felt the bed move as Kirk shifted himself up on one elbow, peering at him in the dim light filtering in through the curtains at the window. "I took a liberty with you that I hope you aren't angry about. I know you dislike people invading your physical space. I'm sure that there must have been another option besides kissing you, though it seemed like a good way to camouflage your head and ears. But I'm a bit confused."

"Sir?"

"Spock. You kissed me back."

Silence fell between them. Spock frantically reviewed all the reasons that starting something here would be a bad idea, but he kept coming up against the increasingly compelling notion of 'lost opportunities'.

If the situation were reversed, he thought, would I not want to be allowed to make a choice in this matter? Finally he sought refuge in a response that was sure to silence a Human.

"I do find you an attractive man, Jim. I was not offended when you kissed me. I was taken off guard, certainly. I did not assume you were doing it because you found me attractive, however. Please do not let it concern you. It has been obvious to me for some time that I am not your 'type'."

He said it as casually as he could, even trying to inject some humour into his voice. "What do you suppose my type is, Spock?" Kirk replied, in a similar tone.

"Pretty much anything that moves, except for me," Spock replied before he could help himself. As soon as the words were out he felt a sick, cold feeling steal over him, and thrust himself off of the bed. "I apologize, sir. I am not myself tonight."

"Spock! I don't understand..." Kirk sat up, throwing the covers aside. Spock looked away and swallowed. Never had Kirk appeared so enticing to him.

"That much is obvious." Spock grabbed a robe from the closet and stalked out. He didn't dare spend another second in that room. Unable to find any reason to do anything in particular he returned to the computer, fired it up, and began to blindly access news-sites, not really reading, just keeping his fingers busy.

Anything, anything, to stop seeing that last image of Kirk, naked. To stop hearing the voice telling the man that was about to shoot him that their relationship was 'none of his business'. Anything at all to stop the burning of his lips.

After another hour, he was more concerned with what he was reading, and gave his full attention to the news-sites, then rose and began to speed read through several weeks back- issues of newspapers. His concern rose further, and he returned to the computer with some trepidation to check his theory. It seemed they were further from home than he'd originally estimated.

"Oh my god, I didn't dream it." Spock looked up from reading the morning paper to see Pete Redding standing in the doorway. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did not sleep at all, but do not be concerned. My species is able to go for several days without sleep. You, however, look both un-rested and uncomfortable."

Redding limped into to the kitchen and lowered himself into a chair. "I feel awful. Every muscle in my body is aching."

"A common after-effect of fighting. You overstressed muscles that you rarely use in so violent a fashion, and are also no doubt suffering from the excess adrenal toxins which stress causes in Humans."

"No kidding. Is there any coffee?"

"I do not know. I have not investigated your belongings."

Redding stared. "Do you understand the phrase 'make yourself at home'?"

Spock closed the paper and stood up. "I do. Where do you keep the coffee? I will make some for all of us."

"Thanks. Freezer. Grinder on the counter, pot beside the sink, mugs above the stove." Redding rested his arms on the table as Spock began the simple tasks involved in preparing coffee. "What Jim said, about your name being unpronounceable?"

"It is quite true, from a Human perspective, though my father's people have no difficulty pronouncing our names. That would be illogical. 'Spock' is my daily use name whether on Vulcan or elsewhere, however. My rank is Commander." He realized he was volunteering information and shook his head as he dumped coffee beans into the grinder and turned it on. He must govern himself! What was wrong with him, last night and this morning?

"Interesting. Vulcan, I guess that is a Humanized version of your planet's name?"

"Correct. After one of your ancient gods, in fact." Babbling. Indulging in small talk!

"I know about that one. Vulcan was the lame blacksmith. Associated with fire. Must be hot there." Redding was watching him in open fascination. "What's the UFP?"

"I really should not be answering all of these questions." Spock put the ground beans into the press pot and stood back, waiting for the kettle to boil. "You are already informed enough to do serious damage to the timeline."

"Huh. How are you going to deal with that? Or, how is the Captain?"

"I am not certain." The kettle began to whistle and Spock poured the hot water. "I find this entire episode disquieting. Please do not ask me anything further. Perhaps you would like to tell me about yourself. I am curious about this period."

Ten minutes later, when Kirk joined them, Spock was more than curious. He was outright concerned. Though he noted Kirk's puffy eyes and tired demeanour, he couldn't spare a thought for them. "Sir, Mr. Redding has told me several things that have made me quite concerned when tallied with my news-reading overnight."

"Good morning, Pete, Mister Spock," Kirk said, shooting a glance at the Vulcan and glancing around, hands in the pockets of his robe. "Did you save any coffee for me?"

Spock rose automatically to get it, dumping in the amount of sugar Kirk preferred and setting it down on the table. "Captain..."

"Spock, we shouldn't be talking about this in front of Pete."

"I'm afraid it may concern his continued involvement with us directly, sir." Kirk looked up then and Spock carried on as simply as he could. "I think we are displaced more thoroughly than we thought, sir. The events that I would expect to see occurring in the history of our time line are not occurring here."

Kirk took a long slurp of coffee. "You suspect a parallel universe issue, is that it? What events specifically, Spock?"

"This culture has already passed several key points that on your Earth led to the supremacy of Colonel Green and the Eugenics... issues. Sir, that scenario is not developing here. Additionally, there is a much more powerful and efficient common government than was evident in your own history."

"Damn." Kirk blinked rapidly. "Spock, can I see you in the other room? Excuse us, Pete. Please."

"Certainly. Take your time." Once out of earshot, Kirk turned back to the Vulcan.

"Explain."

"Captain, without more information about the anomaly, I cannot explain why things are different. But they are. On this Earth the probability of a war similar to your Eugenics war occurring approaches zero, while at this *same* time on your Earth the probability of *avoiding* such war had the same likelihood. This is not your history."

"*Our* history, Spock. You're basing this solely on one night's reading?"

"Yes. However, I have scanned news sources planet-wide for information, in case the national government here had imposed some sort of censorship on the information. No one is reporting the kind of developments I recall. The 2002 attack on Venezuela's oil fields did not occur. The cloning of Humans en-masse in Britain has not occurred. The United Nations has passed several laws regarding use of the human genome that preclude massive development of the 'super-soldier' or 'super-human' scenario. Other key events are out of sequence or missing altogether, such as the assassination of Kennedy, which affected the power structure of the world ever afterwards. Faith in government was not completely undermined in the final decades of the 20^th century. The space exploration program was heavily funded, and there are three orbiting space stations at this time, as well as a scientific research colony on the moon, all of which are considered 'neutral all-Earth affiliates'. The USSR dissolved peacefully fully 10 years earlier than it did in your history. The terrorism in Indonesia did not occur at all. Internationally co-operative government regulation of psychotropic drugs completely eliminated the so-called 'drug wars'. There are many examples."

"It sounds pretty convincing."

"I am convinced, sir. And I cannot think of any way that Mr. Scott can re-engineer such an incident, given the infinite universes that stand between ourselves and our home." He looked past Kirk's shoulder. "Furthermore, I wish to apologize for my..."

"Save it, Spock." Kirk paced away and made several circuits of the room. "Save that, for now. We'll talk about that later. Right now... what do we do about getting home?"

"I do not think there is anything we can do, Captain."

Kirk stared at him. "What if you're wrong?"

"Then continuing with our present course of action can do no harm. However..."

"But if you're right, we have to find a way to... to stay here. Live in this time." He bounced once on the balls of his feet, and then began another tour of the room. "I can't accept that answer."

"Please, Captain. Let me finish. If I am right, continuing in our present course may set up warning flags in the distant future to some researcher who will wonder why James T. Kirk and Spock cha'Sarek are seeking information about the United Federation of Planets from the early 21^st century."

Spock almost flinched as Kirk came face to face with him, eyes hard. "We might have already notified them, you mean?"

"Yes."

"Damn. Surely it'll just be thought a funny coincidence."

"Perhaps so. Perhaps in this universe no bored researcher will ever put those names together with "Enterprise", UFP and run an historical search without date parameters, looking for extensive information. Perhaps in this universe there will never be a Kirk, or a Spock, or an "Enterprise"." He kept his face still as he watched emotions warring in his Captain's face. Eventually the Human turned away and slumped on the couch.

"This is a hell of a thing to learn before I finish my morning coffee."

"I will fetch it for you." He returned to the kitchen to see Pete leaning on the counter, plunging a fresh pot of coffee. The Human said, without looking up;

"Sounds like a real pickle you guys are in."

Spock retrieved Kirk's coffee as he replied. "Pickle? I fail to understand your reference."

"Dilemma, Mister Spock," Redding replied, grinning.

"Am I to assume you have been eavesdropping, Mr. Redding?"

"Wouldn't you?"

Spock raised one eyebrow, and then paced to the kitchen door. "Sir, you may as well return to drink your coffee. Mr. Redding has heard everything we have said to one another."

"Another SNAFU, Mr. Spock." Kirk rose and joined him. "Pete, you just keep getting in deeper and deeper."

"Oh, I'm having a ball. Besides, if you are stuck here, you are definitely gonna need my help. Heat that up for you, Jim? Hey, check my math, but you *did* send a message with this morning's paper in 'Frisco, and your pals could be showing up here any minute now."

The two Enterprise officers exchanged looks. Kirk nodded grimly. "That's true enough."

"Then perhaps I should whip you up some local style breakfast so you don't have to go explaining yourselves on an empty stomach. Left over lasagne, or some of my famous hash browns, toast and home-made jam?"

At that instance, Kirk's communicator sounded.

The three men exchanged looks, before Kirk gingerly removed the device and flipped it open. "Kirk here."

There was a moment of silence, and then Spock actually flinched as Kirk's voice came back from the open communicator. "Interesting. I thought I was here. Shall I beam you up? How many of you are there?"

"Myself, and Spock. Also a local man, who has been helping us out." Spock was impressed by the controlled quality of both versions of Kirk's voice. "I think it might be better if you were to beam down. We need to know if we've changed your planet's history by saving the local from a possibly deadly beating last night."

"Spock as well. More and more interesting. Very well, expect a landing party. Do you need any medical assistance?"

"Negative."

"On our way."

Kirk closed the communicator and pressed a hand to the bridge of his nose, a sure sign in Spock's experience that he was developing a tension headache. "I think I'll get dressed."

Five minutes later they were finishing their coffee in the kitchen with Pete, when the familiar sound of the matter transporter began and, with a shimmer, three people materialized across the room. Kirk, Spock, and Scott. They examined each other in half-frozen silence. Pete was the exception; he had a look of absolute delight plastered across his face. "Mighty creative spirit of the universe, this is amazing!"

"Captain Kirk, I presume," the newcomer Kirk said dryly, "and Commander Spock."

"Yes. And this is Mister Pete Redding. Our local anomaly."

"Fascinating," both Spocks said at once, and then raised identical left eyebrows. Mister Scott chuckled.

"Och, Doctor McCoy will be delighted. Two of him! Mister Spock, newcomer Spock I mean, perhaps you and I can get down to analysis of this little problem right away?"

"Certainly," the misplaced Spock said. "Perhaps in the other room. And my... counterpart could begin the investigation about Mister Redding's possible effect on this time-line."

"At once. Captain? With your permission?"

"Do it, Spock. Captain, please tell us exactly what might have been changed by your presence. How long have you been here, who else you've interacted with..."

"This is going to be extremely confusing," Kirk complained. "Look, I'm not the Captain of the Enterprise in this universe, obviously, you are."

"Why don't we call you James T?" Both Kirks chuckled. "Spock? Let's get this show on the road."

"Perhaps, James, you will begin by telling me how you interacted with Mister Redding."

"He saved my life," Pete interjected. "Queer-bashers in this town don't fool around. Once they start on you, you're dead. There have been a dozen deaths this year alone."

"He was being attacked in an alley close to where we materialized. I knocked down one man; Spock dropped the second with a nerve pinch. The one may have had a broken jaw. They were both alive when we left them."

The newcomer Captain walked over to the counter and poured himself a cup of coffee, while Spock cocked his head, thinking. "So, you may have in some way discouraged the attackers from further episodes of anti-social behaviour, in addition to rescuing Mister Redding. Did you interact with anyone else?"

"No. We brought Pete up here and haven't left the apartment since. The door security person saw us, but I don't think we could have caused any changes in his life, and Spock had a hat on."

"Very well." Spock pulled out his communicator. "I will begin my research on the ship's computer. Mister Redding may as well accompany me in order to provide the information I will need to back track to this time period."

"Is that wise, Spock? Showing him the ship?"

"I submit that Mister Redding is already far too well informed about us, Captain, and nothing will be served by keeping him 'in the dark' about what we are doing. It concerns him greatly."

"Do it, then," the Captain ordered.

"And maybe get McCoy to look at his knee. He popped the kneecap last night," Kirk added. "May as well complete the damned rescue."

Once they had gone, the two Kirks stood in silence for a moment. Tugging on his rumpled dress uniform tunic, the displaced Kirk gazed at his doppelganger thoughtfully. "So if we didn't disappear from this universe, what made you come back for us?"

"A student at the VSA, doing a history of our mission. She ran our names through a search protocol, and came across a rather interesting newspaper advert from this time. Informed Star Fleet directly, thinking that maybe Spock and I had been misplaced somehow. We decided we'd best investigate. That was about a week ago, our time." He gestured toward the door.

"I'm glad you did. I wouldn't want to be stuck in a time full of queer-bashers and tobacco smoke."

In the living room, Scott looked up as the two Kirks entered, and shook his head. "I dinna think there is any way to fix this little mess, Captain," he said. "It's a multi-universe space-time inversion, and I can think of no way to reverse the process. Any anomaly that can cause such a thing is normally extremely short-lived. That's the theory, anyway. This is the first time I have heard of anyone testing it."

"Spock?"

"I am afraid I concur with Mister Scott. I will do further research, however..." he looked from one Kirk to the other. "Jim, I believe that we are stuck in this universe."

"Damn. My ship... my crew." He slumped onto the couch. "Three years left on the mission. It's like it's over before it really started."

"You are on a timed mission?"

"Five year exploratory tour. We had returned to Earth briefly, for an overhaul of the ship's mainframe and engines. We were due to get underway again in a week, out toward the Eridani clusters to map the planets and look for new cultures."

"We're a little further along the time-line than you, then. That might be important." Kirk replied. "We just returned from our first five-year mission. Spock, Scotty, we'd best get up to the ship and get the science and engineering crew working on this, and get some advice from specialists in the field. If someone formulated that theory, someone else may have a way of implementing it. If there is a way, I want to find it. If there isn't, these gentlemen need to start adjusting as quickly as they can."

**

"Captain. I have the report on Mister Redding."

Kirk pushed back from his desk as Spock entered his office. "Go ahead, Spock."

"A newspaper article of a year hence, has Mister Redding unveiling a new computer program that will revolutionize the method used for designing micro-electronics. His field of work is in designing programs. Additionally, it leads to his development of sub-space radio, ten years hence, and further research into sub-space. The two combined, computer redesign and sub-space research, were the essential ingredients that led to the development of the warp drive two generations later." Spock perched on a chair and handed the data chip to Kirk, who weighed it in his hand.

"So he goes back."

"Yes. It is imperative. And, sir, I believe he goes back with his memory intact. We know that paradoxes do occur, and I have reason to think that Mister Redding's encounter with our doubles, and his visit to the ship, are what will inspire him in his new design work."

"Good lord, it's the reverse grandfather paradox," Kirk responded, smiling. "You're sure about this?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well. Send him back. No one would believe it if he told the tale anyway."

"Extremely unlikely, Jim. This era is famous for its false 'alien abduction' stories, and Mr. Redding is doubtless too smart to wish to be the butt of ridicule."

"Where is he now?"

"On the observation deck with a security 'guide'." Spock hesitated for a moment, and then pressed on. "Jim, there is something I would like to bring to your attention. Regarding this new 'Kirk' and 'Spock'. Do you recall that dinner party we attended, as guests of honour, at the end of our second year in space?"

Kirk blushed and his smile broadened. "Didn't I remember our anniversary again faithfully last week, Spock?"

"Well, it occurs to me that, given my confusion at the time, if any single thing had happened differently that evening, if the hotel had not mixed up our reservations and given us the same room, or if you had not had one drink too many of brandy, it is unlikely that we would have..."

"Had mind-blowing sex and never looked back?" Kirk chuckled, and then sobered as he caught the drift of the conversation. "You're saying, that there's a possibility that these two newcomers might have missed their big chance?"

"I think it is worth mentioning our own history to them. When I think of the loneliness I felt, believing that you would never find me attractive, I am saddened for him. For them both."

"Right. Invite them to a private dinner here, tonight. And, maybe I'd better see that the quartermaster assigns them the same guest suite. One of the nice VIP suites with the big bed."

"A plan with no flaws, Jim."

"You think they're stuck here?"

"I have not seen all the research yet, but all signs point that way. I wonder what they will do."

"He'll want command of a starship."

"Quite possibly." Spock stood up and paced to the door. "But I doubt Star Fleet will simply appoint him in that position. I expect that they will find their lives quite different from those they had before. At least we can point them toward each other."

"They..." Kirk sighed. "They're like slightly younger versions of us, though, Spock. Remember all we went through in those first two years? Why would the fleet not want to use that investment?"

"It is not this universe's investment, Jim. They will require counselling, and extensive adjustment. They see Mister Scott and treat him as they would his younger self; I think that there will be a long period of confusion for them."

Spock's heart sank as he entered his assigned quarters after bidding Pete Redding goodbye, and saw Jim Kirk sprawled on the couch with a data padd. Kirk looked up, startled, and then stood. "Spock? Did you need to see me?"

"I believe you are in my quarters, Captain."

"Call me Jim. This is the suite I was assigned. The quartermaster wouldn't make a mistake like that, would he?"

"Perhaps it is the only suite available at this time." He paced to the bedroom and looked in, and his heart fell further. One bed. A closet full of civilian clothing; obviously some from the Captain's wardrobe and some from Spock's. "That does appear to be the case. They have stocked the closet."

"Well..." Kirk blushed. "Look Spock, about last night."

"We will be late for dinner, sir," Spock replied stiffly. "I wish to wash and change my clothing before we report to the Captain's quarters. We can enquire about separate quarters then."

"We need to talk. About a lot of things."

"We do not need to talk right now," Spock answered, selecting an outfit and retreating into the bathroom. His head was spinning at the thought of being forced to share a bed with Jim after his outburst of last night; he doubted he had the courage to face it. He changed quickly, looking at his discarded dress blues with regret. Would he ever wear the uniform again? Perhaps, in this universe, there was need for more good Star Fleet officers. That thought brought comfort, but also pain; it seemed likely that if Star Fleet did accept them in this universe, they would probably also post them together. They were a proven command team. More years of watching Jim Kirk seduce others, and return laughing and smiling to Spock's side. More years of longing that he could do nothing about.

He was Vulcan. He would survive. If only Kirk hadn't kissed him.

Spock waited in silence for Kirk to finish dressing, and then left the suite at his side. At his side. The silence this evening wasn't companionable, but stilted and uncomfortable, and Kirk kept shooting him pained little glances. Spock felt relieved when the door of the Captain's quarters opened and admitted them to other company than their own.

Kirk's yeoman was setting the table for four; it appeared to be a purely social event, for there was wine standing open, crystal goblets, and a large bunch of daises gracing the table. Captain Kirk greeted them warmly and waved them to the couch. Looking around, Spock noted that this cabin differed in subtle ways from his Kirk's; softer, cozier somehow. He realized part of that stemmed from the lighting, for candles were lit here and there all over the room. "Can I offer you brandy, Jim? Scotch? Spock, perhaps some Kreeth? We keep a stock of Vulcan liquors for my Spock, and you're welcome to it. After what you two have been through in the last 24 hours you might welcome the relaxing effects."

More than you know, Spock thought, and accepted a glass of one of his favourite beverages from home.

Home. His home was lost to him. Did Spock, here, have the same mother, the same father? Did he even think of Vulcan as 'home' in that way? Home. Where the heart is, his mother used to say. When he'd asked her if she missed Earth. 'Spock, home is where the heart is, and for me that is with you and your father.' Spock hadn't really understood it until very recently. Home was where Jim was. His Human heart.

The yeoman finished and left, and as she did Commander Spock came through the door, padds and disks stacked high in his arms. Captain Kirk intercepted him and helped him set the tottering mass on the desk and then...

Kissed him. On the lips. Gently, and tenderly, and with a smile. "Welcome home, love."

"Good evening Jim. And James, and Spock."

Spock couldn't move. Beside him, on the couch, his Jim shifted slightly and Spock felt his shock as if it were his own. "Home?" Jim managed.

"Sure. Three years now. We knocked out the bulkhead between his old quarters and my bathroom, so that we had a bit more space. That way we both have an office, and also a larger bedroom and a separate sitting area. Didn't you notice that there's no bed in here? Not much point in trying to hide a bonded relationship on a starship, is there? How do you two manage?"

"We... are not..." Spock felt as if he were strangling. He closed his eyes briefly to initiate a calming mantra, and felt Jim shift again beside him.

"We are a bit behind you on the time-line," Jim ventured. "Just about 3 years, you said. 3 years..."

The captain smacked his forehead and chuckled. "Of course! I was making some rather rude assumptions, wasn't I? I mean, I suppose there are universes where Spock and I don't get together, but the parallels between you two and us are so close. Even to beaming down to that dinner party in 'Frisco. That night... oh! That was the very night!"

"Do you mean to say, it worked? The hotel reservations?" Spock turned to his Jim with a jerk, to see him glowing in a hot blush of embarrassment.

"Shhh, I never told him I fixed it so we would have the same room."

"I always knew, Jim," Commander Spock replied prosaically. "I merely neglected to tell you I knew. And yes, James, it worked perfectly well. Shall we eat? I believe that your Mister Spock requires a moment to assimilate this information."

"You were planning..."

"I *told* you we needed to talk."

Spock rose like an automaton and stared down at Kirk, then across at the 'bonded' Kirk and Spock. Without intending it, he began to walk toward the door.

"Spock..."

His double intercepted him and put a hand gently on his forearm. "Please do not go. I can see that you are troubled, but please stay and join us for dinner. There is no reason not to at least hear of the possibilities, so that you can make a logical decision."

"I'm afraid I pulled the hotel reservation thing again, Spock," Captain Kirk said. "I arranged for you two to share that VIP suite. I just assumed that he loved you as I much as I love my bondmate. You seemed so right together. It was like looking in a mirror."

"Stay. Eat. Listen, and question. Perhaps we have the information you need to understand your own situation more clearly. Spock; our mother was right. Home is where the heart is. And it needn't be painful. It can be perfect."

"She is not 'our' mother, but yours. You do not speak as a Vulcan would speak. This is utterly illogical."

"My close mental association with this Human has, no doubt, corrupted me in some ways, from the point of view of a pure Vulcan. However, even Sarek approves of my union. I have 'Humanized' somewhat in the last three years. And yet, I am still Spock of Vulcan."

Jim, silently listening, stood up suddenly and drained his glass. "I think I'd like to stay for dinner. I'd like to hear more of this story. A lot more. Please don't go, Spock, because if you do I'll have to follow you and argue with you and... and miss this meal, and I need to hear this. I really do."

"You do."

"Yes. And so do you. If I was still your captain I'd make it an order."

"Very well." Spock turned back and sat down gingerly at the table. "I am willing to listen."

**

The short walk back to the suite was again made in silence, but this time the silence had a strained and frightened quality to it, from Spock's point of view. The local Kirk and Spock, deeply in love, had managed to create a life that looked, to Spock, like a paradise. The possibility of that paradise opening up for him was causing him to tremble in his tidy black boots. So much rested now on the next few minutes. On Kirk. On what Kirk would say to him. On whether this Kirk wanted this Spock.

Hotel reservations. The mind boggled at the devious way Humans operated. This Human, at least.

The door opened before him, and shut behind him, and he leaned on the bulkhead for support, something he didn't remember ever doing before. Kirk paced once around the room, and then stopped in front of him.

"What made you think that I wasn't attracted to you, Spock?"

"You are a man who acts on his attractions, Captain. You did not approach me. I therefore knew that you did not find me attractive."

"Oh, shit. I acted on whims, on impulses, when it wasn't important and I didn't care if I ever saw the other person again. You were too important to push that way, to pressure, to casually seduce. I needed to find the right time and place, Spock. I never thought you'd accept me."

"You thought about me?"

"Pretty much constantly for the last 2 years. I was finally going to act; I'd gotten up the courage. And then that damned transport accident."

"You thought about me."

"You're repeating yourself. Yes. And I'm thinking about you now. Tell me, Spock. If we had made it to San Francisco, and into that single hotel room, would I have stood a chance?"

Spock pushed himself away from the wall and walked past Kirk into the centre of the room. "They are a bonded couple. Do you know what that means, Captain?"

"Please call me Jim. Please. I'm captain of nothing in this universe. And yes, I do know. I begged the information out of your mother, during that trip to Babel when you and Sarek were acting so childishly. We had quite a chat. She saw right through me, of course."

"Did she?"

"Yes, Spock. She wished me luck, and said that I would be a welcome addition to your family. That's when I started making plans for 'Frisco."

Spock wheeled around. "My *mother* said that to you?"

"Cross my heart. You'll know I'm telling the truth once we're bonded."

"Bonded." Spock swallowed. Hard. Was it possible that his dearest secret, the thing he held so close in his heart for so long, his most cherished dream, was going to become a reality? "And Sarek?"

"I got a letter from him last week. Last week! Last universe! Saying that he approved, provisionally."

"What was the provision?"

"That I was to make you happy." Kirk crossed the space between them and set his hands on Spock's shoulders. "I want to do that, Spock. To make you happy. I'm in love with you."

That could not have been a sob that escaped him. Spock bent slowly, and pressed his lips to Kirk's, and Kirk lowered his hands to rub them down Spock's back. Fire began behind Spock's eyes, and melted down to his groin. He was moaning, he could hear it, as Jim's mouth opened and welcomed him in. And so was Jim. A low groan that went from Spock's ears to his chest and released something in him. Something vital and alive.

He was lifting Kirk and carrying him to the bed, and Kirk was laughing. Laughing in delight. "I've never seen myself as the bride before! Gods, you're strong."

"You shall learn how strong."

"I look forward to it." He laid Kirk back on the bed and knelt beside him. Their eyes locked, and Kirk's breathing became very rapid. "I don't know how you want this to go. I want our first time to be perfect. I love you."

"I love you, James Kirk. I have for many, many months. Since almost the first time we met on Enterprise. But Vulcans don't love; so I thought. And Jim Kirk does not love Vulcan men; so I thought. I am proved wrong on all counts."

"Then perhaps you'd like to take off your clothes and I'll take off mine, and we can learn a little more about each other."

"That is acceptable."

Spock wasted no time in stripping. Nor, he noted, did Jim. Jim, he thought of him as Jim. As he should, naked on this bed. He ran his hands over the smooth Human flesh, noting that it was just slightly cool. Spock must feel like a burning brand to Jim. Spock felt like a burning brand to himself. "You are beautiful," he murmured, and Kirk chuckled.

"Your eyes are closed!"

"You feel beautiful. Ahhhh," for one cool hand had closed over his penis. When had his penis engorged to such a size? He had known it smaller, during his fantasies of Kirk, but never like this. Never so large. "Ahhh, that feels good. Jim, I want to feel you. I want to feel what you feel."

"Meld us. I await thee in the appointed place."

A surge of pleasure that Jim had learned the correct Vulcan phrase ran over Spock, and he realized he was smiling. Pressing Jim onto his back, he straddled him, trapping their penises together and shivering at the contact. Very gently he raised his hand to the meld points, and then was falling.

Falling. It was like drowning, such feeling, such as he felt for Jim, Jim felt for him... and there couldn't possibly be this many nerve endings afire at once in a Human body. How would he stand it? Jim cried out as they began to move together, belly-to-belly, and Spock *was* sobbing now. He had never imagined that anything, *anything* could give him pleasure like this.

"Beloved," Jim was whispering beneath him. "Never and always, touching and touched."

"Yes," Spock gasped, moving faster, slick with Jim's sweat and his own leaking fluids. The scent of Jim's arousal was maddening. "Yes, yes. Yes."

The explosion of his orgasm arched his back and he was screaming, and Jim was coming too, both overwhelmed by the sharing and doubling of sensation as the meld, uncommanded, deepened and invaded their brains and souls and became the bond of a couple. Spock was shattered. It was a true joining; Jim wanted him, was ready for him. Heart to heart. Unbreakable.

"I have waited all my life for thee."

"Ah, Spock. Me too. Welcome home."

Morning. Spock winced against the idea, his whole body aching. Pleasantly aching. Apparently orgasm used muscles he was not exercising regularly. He shifted to his side and looked over at Jim, sleeping beside him, and the muscular aches seemed like a minor and temporary inconvenience. Jim was dreaming about him, the imagery that his relaxed mind sent through their new bond was absolutely inviting. Oh, he would practice this orgasm issue frequently, and his muscles would soon be in tone. A very intriguing course of study.

A much nicer way to experience his homosexuality than the way Pete Redding had in that alley, to earn his sore muscles.

He sobered. He and Jim were bondmates now. Displaced in space and time. He must find a way for them to get home. It was more than his wish to get them home, it was his duty and responsibility. Jim was a starship captain, a rare and precious commodity. His own Enterprise was waiting for him.

And yet, it wasn't possible. Not even theoretically.

Spock watched Kirk sleep for a moment by the subdued light of Earth seeping through the porthole, and then slid carefully out of bed and made his silent way to the bathroom. He used the sonic and brushed his teeth. The chrono read 0400; a much longer sleep than he was used to. Nearly 5 hours. And yet he wanted merely to get back into the bed and fall asleep again, holding Jim in his arms.

Jim. In his arms.

He walked back into the bedroom and regarded the sleeping Human. Perhaps, in light of Human notions of what one should do after being recently bonded... married, he supposed, he really ought to get back in bed and wait for Kirk to sleep himself out. Then they could learn more about that 'orgasm' issue. In the tradition of a 'honeymoon'. There were hundreds of people working on the problem of their return to their own universe. Spock had a sudden Human feeling of resentment toward his own loyalty to duty, and dug himself back under the covers. He would savour this first night. Even if he didn't sleep, he could hear Jim breathing, smell Jim, hold Jim, and look forward to a life with Jim.

He rested a hand on Jim's shoulder, and Jim sighed in his sleep and turned toward him.

He would not get up and return to work. He would have this moment. It was his right. He would take it. If he had bonded with T'Pring, a week of solitude would have been their right.

The Spock of this time and space would understand instantly if he weren't at the morning briefing.

The Jim Kirk of this time and space would grin and approve their privacy, and the McCoy of this time and space would grumble about having people aboard that hadn't had physicals. His captain would shut him down and tell him to give them a little breathing room.

Breathing room, what an interesting expression.

Spock sank back into sleep, one hand on Jim's shoulder, his whole body still aching, his whole mind at ease.

When he next woke it was to see Jim's eyes sparkling inches from his own, reflecting the same Earth light from the porthole, obviously having indulged in the pleasure of watching him sleep. Spock blinked and checked the time; a further 3 hours had passed. "Good morning, Jim."

Jim's face split in a wide grin. "You can't imagine how often I have longed to hear you say that from the other side of my bed."

"I do not wish to dwell on past unhappiness."

"Nor do I. I didn't know you could sleep so long. I guess I wore you out last night."

"Far from it, Jim." Spock shifted and sat up. "I was awake much earlier, but decided to indulge in extra rest, to experience your proximity."

"Oooo, a compliment. Well," Jim continued, and Spock groaned as one hand found his belly and began gently stirring the hair there, "we could be a lot more proximate than we are, you know. There's something I am really eager to try with you."

"Yes? Yes. Anything." Spock's senses focused on the hand as it moved lower and engaged in a gentle tickling of his penis. It was doing its amazing engorgement trick again.

"My love, you have an absolutely beautiful cock, and I want us to have intercourse. I want you in me."

Spock's nerves all responded at once to the idea, and his body jerked on the bed. "We have nothing with which to provide lubrication for such an act. I might harm you."

"I checked. This Captain Kirk is every bit as sneaky as I am. There are tubes of lubricant in the drawers on both sides of this whale of a bed."

"Peculiar. In my fantasies... now, do not tease a man you have already defeated, Captain! In my fantasies I always assumed that you would be the one penetrating me."

"We can do that too. But me first. Please. If you don't mind."

"I do not think I will mind any of your suggestions. Very well." Reluctantly he rolled away from the stroking hand and found the lubricant Jim had mentioned. Turning back he gasped aloud at the sight of Jim, lying on his belly, adjusting pillows underneath him to present the most wonderful sight Spock could imagine. "I have never done this before."

"But you've researched it. I know you have. I'm sure you know oooooo..."

Spock had indeed researched it, and with one well-lubricated finger had begun to stretch the impossibly small and tight opening. "I cannot understand how this can be done without hurting you."

"It can, trust me. Just... yes... more of that, another finger, god, you're driving me crazy! I can feel your excitement, Spock, it's amazing!"

"And I yours. And I agree," Spock responded. In truth, the giddy pleasure he was sensing from Jim was making him feel a bit lightheaded. He pressed a third finger into the widening opening, and Jim writhed and cried out, ah, ah, ah... Spock shifted to position his penis at the opening, spread wide the firm cheeks, and pushed forward.

Beneath him he could feel Jim experiencing an extraordinary feeling that was not pain, not exactly, but pressure and fullness, Jim groaned and pushed backward. Spock reeled, literally, at the sensations; first, of being engulfed in that tightness, and second at the first and second ridges of his own penis brushing against Jim's prostate gland. He cried out and stopped, trembling.

"Spock?"

"It is almost too much," he gasped. "Give me a moment."

"Take your time," Kirk replied. "I feel it too. What you're feeling. It's unbelievably intense. I'm kicking myself for waiting so long."

"Hush. Please, let me feel this." He gripped Jim's hips and made a tentative motion, and the ripples of pleasure returned. Incredible sensation. Spock stopped analysing and started stroking, in and out of Jim, panting, eyes wide to see the miracle of what he was doing. The sensations coming through the bond intensified; Jim's penis being rubbed against the pillows beneath him by Spock's thrusts.

"Oh, god, Spock, I'm gonna..."

The rush overcame him too, and Spock ejaculated at the same instant that Jim's orgasm exploded. It seemed to go on for ages; he collapsed over Jim's sweat-covered back, holding his weight on his elbows despite the muscles tremors in is arms, instinctively protecting his mate. Slowly his ability to think returned, and he gently kissed Jim between the shoulders. "That was /stunning/.

"Spock! I heard you in my head! And we're not melded."

"No. We are bonded. As it deepens, you will hear me more and more often." He dropped another kiss, then gently disentangled himself and lay down. "And I will hear you."

"Do you now?"

"Not right now. However, I heard your dreams last night. Your mind is unguarded in sleep."

"I like that idea. Sharing dreams." Jim slowly rose from the pillows and rolled off the bed. "I am sticky and smelly, and I am going to have a shower. Will you join me?"

For a moment Spock remembered that he didn't like showers, and then the idea of washing Kirk's back popped into his head and he rose with alacrity. "With very great pleasure."

"God, I'm stiff. Spock! I finally got you, *and* you turned out to be a fabulous lover!"

"I am gratified that you appreciate my technique."

Kirk laughed aloud. "I appreciate all of you, my friend, my mate. All of you. C'mon, let's get clean. I'm starved. Do you suppose the VIP suite comes with room service like ours did?"

**

"Consensus is that there is no way, from our past universe, to return you to your future universe," Captain Kirk said to the two foundlings sitting across the briefing table. It was late afternoon, and they were positively glowing. He assumed, and Spock had concurred, that their matchmaking had been successful. Spock had been surprised that they had even emerged from their room. He went on.

"Mister Scott is of the opinion that it would be an easier fix to take you to our time, and try to locate the universe you are missing from using a theoretical model that he knows of being developed by the University of Edinburgh and the Vulcan Science Academy."

"Ye seem to have intercepted a random wormhole, gentlemen, and those are tricky beggars to simulate. Compounded by the variables involved in beaming, even if we can find a way to get you across universes without the time factor, we might send you to another place you already exist."

"Well, we can study the model, anyway. Perhaps it will work," Jim said. Beside him his new lover shook his head.

"Extremely unlikely. Wormholes are inherently unstable."

"Well, we've managed to anchor one, but it was a repeater generated by a fairly stable quasar," Scott said. "You'll find the literature on the computer."

"Fascinating. I shall read it."

"Meanwhile," Kirk said, standing up, "we are preparing for a slingshot to get us back to our temporal neighbourhood. It'll take an hour or so for Spock to complete all the calculations, and there will be a ship-wide warning. Scotty, we'd best get back to engineering and help Mister Spock."

"Can I be of assistance, Captain? Can either of us?"

"I don't think so, Spock. Strange, calling you that. You could be his younger brother. And Jim could be mine. We're familiar with the technique, and it holds little danger under the present circumstances. Just make yourselves comfortable."

"Very well," Jim said, also standing. "And Captain... thanks. For the... hotel reservations."

"From both of us," Spock finished, rising from his chair. Kirk grinned.

"You're welcome. From both of us. Now go enjoy yourselves. Mister Scott, let's mind the store."

They walked back to their suite, shoulder to shoulder, accustomed already to the many double takes of the crew as they passed. Spock felt utterly content, and knew it was a feeling he should not have; he should be worried about the coming transfer in time, and the research to get them home, but he couldn't bring himself to dwell on either. His heart's desire, on the other hand, was experiencing some anxiety, it came through the bond clearly. "What troubles you, Jim?"

"Spock... if we can't go home. What will we do? Where do we fit in this universe? I was just thinking, if we don't get back... your parents will think you're dead. My mother; I'm her last child. Our friends, our shipmates. They'll be holding funerals, and saying eulogies, and all for nothing."

"Not for nothing." They entered the suite and took seats side-by-side on the soft couch. "Upon losing a relative or comrade, the need for closure is great. Although they cannot know we are alive, they also cannot continue hoping for our return. The funerals and eulogies are not for the dead, Jim, but for those left behind in mourning."

"I know." Jim sighed. "By god, Spock! I'd give anything to get home. Well, not anything. Now that I've found you, I wouldn't give my life in the effort. If it meant losing you, I'd stay here gladly."

Spock found he was smiling. "I would say the same. I love you." He twisted around to kiss Jim, and felt some of the anxiety lift. "You have ruined my ability to worry. Are you hungry? Even you are not accustomed to having sex as often as we managed to accomplish it this morning, and with the bond it was very draining."

"Draining!" Jim burst out laughing. "*Extremely* draining, Spock. Yes, actually, I'm starved. Pull out that room-service menu again. Or would you prefer to go to the mess?"

"I prefer to remain here, with you. This VIP service is much better than in our time, the food is excellent, and if you get carried away with the caviar again the shower is available."

"Everything about this ship is just slightly improved over our Enterprise, Spock. Imagine being able to say that the slingshot won't be dangerous! And the food tastes fresh, the air smells better, the ship is quieter..."

"Perhaps by-products of the extra hundred years these people had in space in this universe. Although hearing that Zephram Cochrane was not the inventor of the warp engine was disconcerting." He reached across Jim and lifted the 'amenities' padd from the side table, and cued it to the food delivery service. "The menu has altered slightly. It appears to have more vegetarian selections than earlier."

"How interesting. Adapting to our tastes, I wonder? Let's see that... Ah. Vegetarian lasagne. Should we, in memory of Pete?"

"I would like that. And a large salad, and a bowl of the pumpkin soup. Pickled antipasto to start. And a bottle of wine."

"Wine! You are Humanizing at an amazing rate."

"I trust you will keep that to yourself," Spock said as he set down the padd and crossed to the wall communicator. "Perhaps I will order a bottle of champagne instead."

"Make it two."

The slingshot was almost unnoticeable; a humming acceleration, a few moments of disorientation, and they had been 'brought up-to-date'. They remained in their quarters, luxuriating in each other's company. It was an hour or so later that the door chimed and Spock looked up from the terminal where he and Jim were perusing a recent history of this Federation.

"Enter," Jim called. The door slid open to reveal Captain Kirk and Commander Spock. With them, the double of Admiral Nogura and an older Vulcan they didn't recognize. Both stood up at attention.

"Jim, Spock. This is Admiral Hirohito Nogura, Chief of Star Fleet Operations, and Professor Seval, Head of Interspatial studies from the Vulcan Science Academy. The Professor is currently working on Earth, and may be able to help with your problem."

Jim strode forward and shook Nogura's hand. "You need no introduction, sir," he said, then turned to the Vulcan and raised his hand in the ta'al. "Live long, and prosper, Professor Seval."

Spock echoed the greetings from just behind him. Nogura was staring from one to the other of the two sets of twins, and Seval had cocked his head in curiosity.

"Fascinating," he said, and Jim caught the quirk on his counterpart's lips at the ubiquitous Vulcan exclamation of interest. "You recognize Admiral Nogura?"

"He is head of Star Fleet in our universe, as well."

"The duplication of detail is amazing."

"There are many differences, however, in the histories of our people, and in the degree of technical expertise evident in our ships." Spock replied. "How different has yet to be determined."

"It cannot be too different, or you would not even exist, Spock cha'Sarek," Seval responded.

Jim recovered his manners. "Would you all sit down? Can I offer you a drink?"

They ranged around the various chairs and couches and settled, all declining refreshment. There was a moment of silence and Nogura cleared his throat. "I'll be blunt, Mister Kirk. We need to find out a lot more about you, and your world. The office of the President wants you to remain on Earth and undergo a series of interviews to determine the nature of the accident, and the divergence of the universes. There may be a way to return you, but Seval and his colleagues think it highly unlikely. If you do remain in this universe, what would you want to do here?"

"I'm a starship captain. It's what I do. It's all I do."

"I see. And Spock?"

"I do not know. If Jim returns to Star Fleet, so shall I. If he chooses another path, I will choose one that will keep us together. We are a bonded pair."

Nogura rolled his eyes. "You two! Inevitable in any universe, is that it? Well, for now, I'm afraid that the President's office has given you the status of 'possible infiltrators' and we are to escort you to Earth, and provide you with a guard until we are convinced that your story is a valid one."

Stunned silence fell on the two displaced men. Kirk blinked rapidly, and Spock could feel his anger. "I've given my life to Star Fleet..."

"So you say. So you may even believe. Or, you may be a well-developed clone of our own Captain Kirk, and the time-travel a clever way to infiltrate our command structures."

"So we are under arrest?" Jim shot off the couch and began pacing the room. "Dammit, Hiro, that's just plain ridiculous."

"It wasn't my call, Jim. This comes from the President himself."

"It's bullshit."

"Look. I'm sure it won't last long. You've convinced me, at any rate. We need the interviews, for scientific purposes, and to see if we can get you back home. You'll be free to travel in a few days, up to a point, on Earth, so long as you don't try to slip away from your body guards."

"Body guards!" Jim snorted, and then stopped in front of his double. "What do you think of this, Captain?"

"I'm outraged, Jim. If you're as good as me, it's a waste of top-notch command material. But it's out of my hands. Enterprise has to get underway again very soon, and we can't keep you aboard."

Jim relaxed slightly at that, and turned to his new husband. "Spock, can you appeal to Vulcan?"

"I do not know. I shall investigate. Even though not technically my 'father', Sarek will also be outraged by this behaviour. It is both illogical and cruel to suggest that we are in any way enemies of the Federation we have spent years defending and protecting. A simple mind meld would solve the issue. He is intimately familiar with my brain-structures from my youth."

Silence fell. Nogura cleared his throat again, nervously. "Yes, I suppose that would help. I'll see if I can get the Security Council to ask him to come to Earth. In the mean time, gentlemen, I must ask you to pack your belongings and accompany me down to headquarters."

Spock rose and joined Jim, placing a hand on his shoulder. "As we own nothing, we have nothing to pack. Even these clothes are borrowed. I am ready to depart. Captain Kirk, Commander Spock, it has been a very enlightening experience, meeting you. Sarek always says thanks are illogical, but from my heart I thank you for rescuing us, in so many ways."

Commander Spock rose and raised his hand. "Long life, prosperity, and happiness to you both. I shall personally contact Sarek and inform him of your situation. Do not worry, James Kirk, you shall not be under guard for long. You are a son of Vulcan by virtue of your bond, and you are both my brothers."

"And I'll call Mom, Jim, and let her know about you. I'm sure she'll want to meet you and find out if her counterpart told you the lie about what happens if you don't eat your broccoli."

Jim relaxed slightly at the overt show of support. "The one about your unmentionables falling off? She did. I never believed it. Thanks. I'll tell her 'hi' from you."

"Do." He held out a hand, which Jim shook firmly. "And congratulations on your bond."

"Thank you."

**

It wasn't bad, for a prison. Jim stood at the window and looked out over the sparkling lights of San Francisco Bay. It was a large apartment, furnished tastefully, and actually fairly close to his old apartment on the grounds of Star Fleet headquarters, the one he'd lived in so briefly with Carole Marcus. He wondered if he was a father in this universe.

Four days had passed. There had been intense interviews and near-interrogations, by both researchers and Star Fleet personnel, and security teams from the office of the President. Taking strength from his bond, Jim had kept his temper in an almost Vulcan fashion. Spock, as always, had been impervious to the innuendo being thrown at him and had answered all questions in a bland and factual way.

It was night again now. One of their 'body-guards' was acting as cook, and the smells coming from the kitchen were enticing. Jim and Spock were not allowed to use the knives and other sharp implements, not allowed in the kitchen at all. A second guard sat at a small desk just inside the front door. Two more, Jim knew, were stationed outside. Spock was meditating; he hadn't slept since their arrival, instead 'standing guard' himself in a way, meditating occasionally between their various bouts with the authorities.

They hadn't had sex since arriving. Spock had located several cameras and audio bugs. Jim was going out of his mind, but agreed, out loud and straight into one camera, that the Federation could fuck itself before it would watch him in the act. Spock, ever the 'private' Vulcan, had agreed. They'd had several melds though. It helped. Their bond was deepening through the melds, and Kirk could frequently 'hear' Spock now.

The door-guard's comm beeped, and he answered it, speaking low. A startled expression came over his face and he stood up. "Mister Kirk, you're about to have company."

"Who this time?"

The guard ignored him, and paced to the kitchen. "Gerant? We are ordered to wait outside."

"Hell, I'm almost done!"

"Now, actually, Gerant."

The sound of cooking equipment being turned off came, and the two men sauntered back to the door. "Mister Kirk, we will be just outside," Gerant said. "Your supper is nearly cooked."

Jim didn't answer. The two men signalled the lock and stepped out into the hallway.

Jim felt a thrill of excitement bordering on fear, and broke into Spock's trance with an internal call. /Spock. Company. And the guards are leaving./

/On my way./

As Spock entered from the bedroom, the door opened again and two people were standing there. Winona Kirk of Iowa, and Sarek of Shi'Kahr.

The door slid shut. Silence stretched out while eyes locked, scanned, and locked again. Then Kirk grinned widely. "I don't know if I should call you Mom or not. You look just like her."

Winona put a hand to her mouth in astonishment, and then let it drop. "You... can call me Winona. Or Mom. I don't mind. I guess you've lost your own mother."

"Hard to believe, looking at you."

"Spock."

Sarek took a step forward and raised a hand. Spock raised his own, and Jim was thrilled to understand their conversation, in high Vulcan, through his connection to Spock. "I am Spock, though not your Spock."

"I perceive no overt differences."

"Differences appear to be few. Three years of age and experience. May I present my bondmate."

Sarek looked at Kirk. "Identical. And bondmates. A fascinating occurrence that will generate years of research."

"Not with us as the guinea pigs, I hope," Jim said. "Ah, this is tough. Winona, I want to give you a hug, but I'm not your son..."

"You are. I always wanted twins." She stepped forward boldly and enveloped him in a fierce hug, then held him at arms length and looked at him. "Jimmy called me and told me about your ordeal. I'm so sorry you lost your home. Have they been treating you well?"

"As well as a prisoner can be treated, I expect. Though I'm getting tired of only having one change of underwear."

She smiled. "Well, let's sit down. Goodness, I could use a drink. Do they let prisoners keep a bottle of anything?"

"I know they have a ton of stuff in the pantry, but this is the first time there hasn't been a guard on the kitchen. Let me check, Mom. Sit down. Sarek, please, have a seat. Can I offer you a drink?"

"Perhaps, a glass of water."

"Coming right up."

"Spock, we have secured your release, and your bondmate's release, with two provisos."

"I am listening."

"I have been requested to engage you in a mind-meld, to ascertain whether you are being truthful in your story of your history."

"That is only one provision."

"You and James are to remain on Earth for a further four months, to speak with the researchers. There are ramifications of your travel that are important in many branches of the sciences. However, you would remain on Earth as free men. I will remain, also, to ensure that you are not further harassed and that your rights are observed. I do not wish, however, to involve the Vulcan Embassy further; it implies distrust in the office of the President. Mrs. Kirk has offered us all lodgings at her home in Iowa."

Jim returned then with a tray bearing four glasses, a pitcher of water, a bottle of whisky, and one of wine. "That seems reasonable. But only if we get paid for our time."

"Paid? I beg your pardon?"

"Sarek, as much like our families as you are, you aren't. We can't accept handouts from you. We don't have two cents to rub together. We own no clothing. We can't even rent transporter time to go shopping. I insist that we get some sort of compensation for our time. Mom, wine, whisky, or water?"

"Water and whisky. Shall I call you James?"

"That would be fine. What about at the end of four months, Sarek? Is Star Fleet interested in commissioning us?"

"They are debating it. I do not know. Spock, however, has an open invitation to join the faculty of the Vulcan Science Academy." Sarek sipped his water. "If they refuse to compensate you what will your reaction be?"

"Then I refuse to co-operate with the researchers and I start looking for a job. I mean to support your alternate son in the style to which he has become accustomed. I could easily find work as a freighter pilot, or with a private research organization. I will not waste any more time as an un-paid experimental lab-rat."

"That would not be necessary. I believe Spock, my Spock, told you that you are a son of Vulcan by virtue of your bond. The fact that you are from an alternate universe does not excuse Vulcan's responsibility to both of you. You are entitled to the same basic allowance as any member of our society, which ensures that our people work by choice, not by necessity."

"I am honoured. Let me think it over, Sarek. I'm an independent cuss. Always have been."

Winona laughed into her whisky glass. "You can say that again."

"As to this meld... Spock? What do you say?"

"I am not averse." He set his own water glass down and turned to face his 'parent'. "I am prepared when you are, Sarek."

"A moment." Sarek set down his glass and folded his hands, enforcing his calming mantra, and then raised his hands to Spock's face. "My mind to your mind, Spock. My thoughts to your thoughts."

"Father..." an expression of pain crossed Spock's face, and Kirk started up, then sat back at a warning look from Winona. "The transporter."

"Before. Before that. Show me your youth."

Moments later he dropped his hands into his lap. "It is you. Beyond any doubt. The patterns set in childhood cannot be duplicated from one mind to another. And I see, in your mind, your bond to James." He rose. "I see no further reason to remain here. Mrs. Kirk, Spock, James, shall we repair to Iowa?"

"Just like that they're going to let us go?"

"Just like that, James. They cannot hold you against your will now that you are proven innocent of any wrongdoing. In fact, the provisions for remaining on Earth are voluntary under our constitution; we hope you will, in order to assist the continued research. I shall enquire about compensation. Tomorrow."

In the aircar from the Riverside Station to the Kirk farm, Sarek turned to Spock. "I saw in our meld that you are very recently bonded."

"The day we arrived in this universe."

"Then you have not had any proper period of seclusion, nor the customary forms of recognition. I will arrange the recognition tokens for you."

"Thank you, my Fath... Sarek."

If Sarek had been Human, Kirk was sure he would have chuckled. "You may call my 'Father', Spock. It is proper; you were raised by my identical counterpart, were you not? As to a period of seclusion, it is unfortunate that Star Fleet and the office of the President chose to overlook the requirements of mated Vulcans. I shall issue an official complaint via memorandum immediately upon our arrival."

"It is unnecessary, Father."

"It is necessary. Law cannot be discarded at a whim. Cultural misunderstanding must always be corrected. Your bond cannot deepen if you are forced to interact with others, or to maintain physical distance from one another. I observed the recording devices in the room we met you in, and I believe you both to be very private men."

"We engaged in several melds."

"Insufficient." Sarek sat back. "Mrs. Kirk..."

"Look, we had this discussion when Jimmy and your Spock got married three years ago. If you don't start calling me Winona again, I'm going to smack you."

One eyebrow went up, and Jim snorted. "She's serious, Sarek. I've been on the receiving end. Trust me."

"Very well. Winona. We must allow our sons privacy for the next few days. It is a Vulcan custom."

"A Human one, too, Sarek. Don't worry; I've set up the big master suite for you, the one I always kept for company, James. You only have to poke your head out for food."

"Sounds like heaven," Kirk replied, absently leaning back against Spock's shoulder. "Look Spock, there it is. Home sweet home."

"It looks extremely cold."

"Well, it's barely spring. But there are lots of fireplaces. One right in our bedroom."

"Lots of Jimmy's clothes are in there, and Spock has a few changes of clothes here, too. Oh, and Amanda is coming next week. She was busy with exams, and knew you'd understand."

"I appreciate the information."

"We'll deal with the damned government in the meantime." She set the aircar down lightly and turned to smile at them. "Welcome home, boys."

**

"What exactly did your father mean by 'recognition tokens', Spock?" Jim stretched up along Spock's side, snug under the counterpane and sheets, and Spock set a hand on his hip. They hadn't spoken much in the days they had spent in this room, except for the occasional murmur of pleasure or shout of delight. Coming down from their 'seclusion', secure in their bond, Jim was becoming more vocal again.

/He meant two things, a Human thing and a Vulcan thing. It is the groom's father's privilege to register a bonding and receive the tokens of recognition, which he can do at the Embassy in Seattle. The tokens are a stone tablet, etched with our names, and a branding kit./

/Branding?!/ "Branding?"

"It is customary for the house sigil to be branded onto the newly bonded. We do it ourselves. The process is not painful, Jim. Anaesthetic is supplied, and I have the mind control to assure that there is not even discomfort. It is set on the inside left forearm of the bonded ones. It is to remind us of the way we once took mates. Vulcan culture is full of reminders of why the Way of Surak is superior./

Jim shuddered and hugged an arm over Spock's chest. /I think I'd prefer wedding rings./

/That is the other token, the Human one./

"I'd kind of like to pick out our own," Jim protested. Spock nodded.

"My mother had the same reaction, when my grandfather presented her with her and Sarek's rings. She related the story several times in my youth. However, she did like his choice. Perhaps you will, too."

Jim sighed and glanced at the fire. It had been burning merrily for their entire seclusion. A stack of wood, presumably provided by Sarek, had appeared every morning outside their door, along with a hand scripted menu for the day and the times they could expect meals to be ready in the kitchen. The meals were nothing like what Jim remembered Winona cooking in his old universe; gourmet fare of the first order, instead of the hearty comfort foods of his youth. Jim had felt a little uncomfortable with that, at first, but hearing the regular coming and going of aircars, he realized that she and Sarek were likely ordering the food daily from the city.

They glimpsed their elders now and then; usually outside in the garden when Jim and Spock snuck out to gather the sumptuous foods from the kitchen, Sarek bundled up to the eyebrows and helping Winona prepare the garden for spring planting.

That morning, besides the wood and the menu, there had been several boxes from Seattle boutiques, containing new clothing for them both. The clothes were elegant and fit perfectly, and Jim reflected on that as he thought about wedding rings.

"I think your father probably has impeccable taste in everything. But if I bought you a ring, as a token, would you wear it?"

"We cannot afford such things yet, Jim."

"Ouch." Jim rolled onto his back and put his hands behind his head. "You had to remind me. We have to go out there and face people. Spock... we're never going home again, are we?"

"I think this is our home. This, and Shi'Kahr. I have found acceptance of the idea."

"I liked having Enterprise as our home."

"Yes."

Staring at the swirled plaster of the ceiling, Jim wondered why he didn't feel more of a sense of loss, more longing for his old life. Was it because he had this bond, this new belonging, to fill in the gaps? /Perhaps,/ came Spock's mind-voice. /Although I, too, wonder at the life of our counterparts here. Their perfect mate, and their perfect career./

/We'll find something fulfilling here/

/I don't doubt it./

Kirk sat up and stared around. /It's so similar, and yet just subtly different. The counterpane; the one at my old house was basically yellow and green - this one is shades of blue. The paintings are different. The stain on the wood, and the way the mantle is tiled instead of bricked. I have to stop thinking of this as the same world./

/It may be nothing more than the three years difference in time between where we left and where we arrived. Perhaps your mother re-decorated./

"Perhaps. You know what I'd like? I'd like to read the logs of the Enterprise for those three years, and see what happened to her. Wouldn't you?"

"I would, yes. I think it's unlikely that we would be given access to them, unless Star Fleet hires us again." He threw back the sheets and stood up. "I sense that we have no further need for seclusion, Jim. Shall we announce our successful bonding, and accept the tokens from Sarek? I am certain that, by now, between them Sarek and Winona have bullied the authorities into accepting your terms regarding the researchers." He leaned over and offered the two first fingers of his right hand to Kirk. Jim smiled and touched them with his own.

"I'm sure you're right. They're bulldogs. I'm glad to have them on our team."

**

Sarek said the ancient words and presented the ancient tokens while Winona stood by, sniffling, as if this Jim Kirk were her real son and she had never seen him married before.

Afterward, with the tablet propped proudly on the mantel and their rings on their fingers, they sat down with their adoptive parents to learn what had transpired during their seclusion.

"The President's office has tendered a formal apology to Vulcan for your incarceration," Sarek said, "which I accepted on your behalf. It included a compensatory package of credits equivalent to Captain and First Officer's pay for a month. Do you agree with my acceptance?"

Jim glanced at Spock. /I'm happy if you are/ "That seems satisfactory, Father."

"Furthermore, they agree that to immure you here without further compensation while you assist in esoteric research would be patently unfair. They offer the same rate of pay for time spent assisting in the projects they have proposed, with a minimum commitment on your parts of four months. It will be as if you hadn't stopped receiving pay at all."

"It will certainly help. I'm just worried that, while we're doing it, we can't be looking around this universe for the next thing." Jim replied. "Unless Star Fleet..."

Winona snorted. "Star Fleet is out of its collective mind if it refuses to take you two."

"Not necessarily, Mom. Our own universe is technologically not as advanced as this one. It may be that I'm not qualified here."

"You can get qualified. You're only... what, 33? A baby."

Jim enjoyed watching his mate's, and his mate's adoptive father's, eyebrows shooting up at the appellation. "Hardly, Mom. But we'll see. I wouldn't mind challenging the Academy graduation year courses. Though I bet Jim cheated on the Kobiyashi Maru, just like I did. They'll see me coming from a light year away."

"You *cheated*? I raised a cheater? Your father is turning over in his grave."

"He applied a more creative solution to the problem than the Academy expected, Winona. That is all," Spock replied, "other than his tendency to exaggerate his flaws."

"Oh." She stood up as a light flashed over the front lawn. "That will be dinner, I expect. We're trying a new restaurant tonight. Excuse me."

Moments later the door opened and closed again, and Lady Amanda stood in the hallway, staring at them with huge eyes. "My dear god." All three men rose from their seats as Winona walked up beside Amanda.

"Good evening, Lady Amanda," Spock said formally.

She jerked. "You even sound just like him, though he always calls me 'Mother'."

"It would be illogical for me to call you 'Mother', unless it is your wish that I do so. Although biologically and in many other ways identical, I am not your son."

She paced further into the room, staring from Spock to Jim, unwinding her elaborate scarf. "I am just a bit shocked. I've been reading about this in the Embassy news, of course, and seen bits on FNN, and spoken with Sarek, but to see it is rather startling. Uh... welcome to our universe, Spock, and Jim."

"Thank you."

"You are every bit as beautiful here as you were in our old world, Lady Amanda. A pleasure to meet you." Jim lifted her hand gallantly and planted a kiss on it. "Call me 'James', you might find it easier. You're a wonderful surprise, Mom didn't tell me you were coming this evening."

"Winona! You told me they knew!"

"I lied. But not about supper, James. Amanda brought it with her. Shall we eat? I'm starved."

Over dinner, Sarek outlined the scheduled interviews and tests set up for the next several weeks, producing hard print and padd copies. Jim read them over with some trepidation. He was going to have to divulge mission secrets for some of these interviews, and he finally brought up the problem for Sarek, at Spock's internal urging.

"Father, some of these things are absolutely classified information. We can't discuss them, we swore not to."

Sarek sat back. "Those oaths were sworn in another universe, James. I fail to see your responsibility in this."

"But... Sarek, to me it's axiomatic. Look, our lives almost exactly paralleled your own sons' lives, up until three years ago. If we discuss some of these things, we'll be discussing not only their very personal lives, but also some of Star Fleet's most guarded secrets. The interviews and questions about history I can certainly see happening. However, the questions about our missions? To persons outside of Star Fleet? No way. And questions about our personal lives? It would be like airing your own sons' secrets in public. It would be grossly unfair."

Amanda smiled at him. "That is thoughtful of you."

"I had not considered all of the ramifications," Sarek added, one eyebrow raised. "The fact that what we know so far is similar in so many ways to our own universe, did not lead me to the conclusion that you are privy to many secrets that our other sons, and Star Fleet, would not want made public. I am surprised at the failure of my logic."

"Don't beat yourself up, Sarek. James is right. We have to go back to the committee and clarify this stuff, make sure they know that James and Spock will go so far, and no further. And make sure you call Nogura about it, so that he gets another reminder that all four of our sons are honourable men, not just the two he knew two weeks ago." Winona stabbed a piece of lettuce from her salad and glared around the table.

"I shall do so. He, too, should never have approved these schedules." Sarek put down his fork and stood up. "In fact, I shall do so immediately. Excuse me."

"Sarek, perhaps if Admiral Nogura can assign a top-cleared de-briefer for those issues, then Star Fleet can decide what to pass along to the divergence and interspatial researchers," Spock offered.

"A suggestion I am sure he will be interested to hear."

/Can you imagine the trouble if we discuss something like Talos IV, Spock? What was Star Fleet thinking?/

/Perhaps they were thinking what you yourself were, and wanted to test the extent of both your knowledge and your loyalty./

Kirk flushed at the implied deception, and then nodded and picked up his fork. "Lady Amanda, this food is excellent. Is it from the Embassy kitchen in Seattle, or your own?"

"Oh, you flatter just like Jim does. No, this is take-out from a wonderful vegetarian restaurant that the five of us have visited before, in Iowa City. I'm glad you like it. Perhaps we'll all seven go some day." She frowned down at her plate. "Although it's confusing, having two sons named 'Spock'."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I am not confused, Mother."

"No, of course *you're* not. Eat your zucchini, Spock."

"Yes, Mother."

Sarek returned quickly and sat down. "You have an interview with Nogura at 0900 tomorrow at his office. Both of you. To discuss 'disclosure guidelines'."

"Good. I've got a couple of things I'd like to pick up in China Town, now that I've got a some credits in my pocket," Jim said nonchalantly. Back to Fleet, even for a short time. Inside him, he felt Spock's smile.

Much later Jim sat naked before the fire, Spock across from him, and watched in some apprehension as his mate opened the 'branding' kit and set it between them. It was a simple thing. Two brass wands with wooden handles at one end and the sigil of the House of Surak on the other, a small jar of pungent anaesthetic, and a scroll that Spock told him was a list of marital duties not to be ignored. Jim reached out and lifted one of the wands. "There is no way this can't hurt. Do we have to participate in this barbarian ritual?"

/It is because we are not barbarians that we do this. You have much to learn of Vulcan culture, my heart. This should have been done at our bonding ceremony, in front of witnesses; it is a special honour for us to have a private ceremony, due to the irregularity of our initial confinement./

/Some honour. No one else but you gets to witness my cowardice./

"You are not a coward." Spock set the open jar of anaesthetic on the floor between them. "I shall read the duties of a bond mate of Vulcan. While I read, our brands shall heat in the fire and we shall apply the anaesthetic. Then, I shall engage us in a deep meld, to offset any discomfort the anaesthetic may not cover. While in the meld, you shall press the brand on my arm here, so. Firmly, Jim. The heat dissipates very quickly from brass. And I shall press mine to your forearm here. You must hold very still. I shall not be able to assist you by bracing your arm, as I will be using both hands already."

"I'm scared of this Spock."

/Don't be. I would never hurt you. Surely you know that I would never hurt you? This is a custom of my people that dates back many thousands of years. Please indulge me in this./

Jim held his gaze for a moment, and then sat back. /Yours, of course. Yours. Show me one more time, the exact spot. I promise to do it right./

Spock ran through the dress rehearsal one more time, and Kirk nodded. "I can do that."

"Then we shall begin." /Use only your little finger for the ointment. You will lose sensation in it after a moment or two; keep applying the ointment. Concentrate. Concentrate on applying the ointment, and then firmly applying the brand itself. Are you prepared?/

/As I will ever be, I expect./

/Very well./

Spock chanted a phrase in his deep voice, and through the meld Kirk understood him; *these are bonded, these are one mind and one heart.*

He lifted one of the brands, and placed it on a brick he'd earlier set before the fire. Kirk followed suit, almost shivering with the fear of pain despite his resolve. Spock met and held his gaze then, and opened the scroll before setting his hand upon the meld points of Kirk's face.

/These are the duties of a Vulcan to his bondmate/ Kirk heard, as he felt Spock's mind diving ever deeper into his own. /To be present always, though ever far away. To advise, though never to scold. To fulfil his mate's needs, though never demand. To correct, but never to punish. To guide, but never to insist. To learn, but not insist upon teaching. To participate in the raising of children, but always as an equal. To espouse, with his bond, the qualities of respect and responsibility due a bondmate./

Despite his fear, Kirk felt a prickle of tears behind his eyes. It was the idea of marriage, perhaps, the voicing of a vow, which was oversetting him. Through the bond, he felt Spock's own emotional agreement. Unbidden he reached for the ointment and began to rub it into the spot on Spock's forearm, the one holding the meld points on his face. Silently Spock began to anoint Kirk's arm, held loosely in his lap. Almost instantly, Kirk's little finger was numb. He dipped into the pot again. Already his arm was feeling distant. The list continued.

/To keep his mate in comfort, even at the expense of his own. To speak when his mate deserves praise, and be silent when he perceives his mate should be criticized, until logic wins out. To maintain the privacy of his household no matter the interest of those outside. To honour his mate's clan as his own. To allow his mate the freedom to pursue personal interests, even when in conflict with his own wishes. To always communicate his own needs, so that logical decisions can be made. And to never seek to control his mate, but allow all decisions to be made in freedom./

Spock dropped the scroll and looked up into Kirk's eyes. "These vows have been made by many trillions of couples before us, and I am honoured to swear them to you now. Do you also so swear?"

"I so swear," Kirk responded, voice cracking. He turned with Spock and picked up the little brand, and pressed it to the spot Spock had showed him. Feeling, as he did, a faint pressure on his own arm.

Don't flinch, he thought. /You will not/ came the calm reassurance. A faint smell of burning flesh overcame the ointment and the firesmoke for a moment, and then the pressure left his arm. The hand fell from his face, and Spock plucked the brand from his hand.

"It is done."

Jim fell back on the pillows and took a long breath. "Spock. That was amazing."

Spock set the tools aside and came to straddle him. "Let me see."

"There. Let me see yours." They examined each other's forearms for a moment. Kirk scanned the perfect mark, a raised green welt, for a moment. His own was painless. It already seemed to be fading to purple.

"Wow. Spock... I didn't realize I wanted a ceremony. Until you started."

"Vulcan is a wise, old, culture. You performed perfectly. Thank you for agreeing to participate. I find that I feel... married."

Jim began to laugh. "Hell, if you weren't convinced before now, I'll have to show you again," he replied, grabbing Spock and rolling him over, away from the fire. He lowered his head and kissed his mate, enjoying the slightly bitter flavour of his lips. "Let's get in bed. You'll get cold out here."

"Agreed. Most emphatically."

**

When they entered Nogura's office the next morning, Kirk could not feel the brand on his arm at all, but he was sharply aware of the new ring upon his left hand. Nogura looked up at them both, greeted them in a friendly way, and bade them sit down.

They did. Kirk felt strange being in this office without a uniform. Nogura closed the files he was working on, snapped his terminal shut, and folded his hands on the desk. "I wondered what you would do about the possibility of breaking an oath to Star Fleet."

/So. You were right./ /It appears so./

"Nothing to say? Talking amongst yourselves? That drives me crazy with the other Kirk and Spock, too. Tell me your thoughts on this, James T. Kirk the younger!"

"My thoughts on your distrust of us? Natural enough. A test was certainly in order. Your thoughts about the possibility that I would break my oath? I'm deeply insulted. But of course, from your point of view, you don't know me. My thoughts about your discomfort that I have a private channel to my bondmate, who should also be my first officer? You should be glad of it. I'm sure that it has helped your current Kirk and Spock out of a few dangerous jams."

Nogura sat back and nodded. "Very good. Now tell me your thoughts on this. I want to debrief you, thoroughly. I want to know what you know about Star Fleet and our training and our interests. I want to know if you are command material, the way your local doubles are. Because if you are, I want to hire you."

"Hire us in what capacity, Admiral?" Spock asked.

"That remains to be seen, Mister Spock. I expect that, given the parallels between our universes, my counterpart was known for using the right tool for the job. That's one of my strengths." Nogura rose and walked around the desk, perching on its edge. "Perhaps as teachers. Perhaps as administrators here. Who knows? Perhaps as a command team on a starship, if you can convince me that you're capable, and have adapted to our universe."

Jim swallowed. "What about all of the researchers? The interviews?"

Nogura walked back behind his desk and sat down. "A red herring, Mister Kirk. Oh, they're clamouring for you. But every one of them, from Montgomery Scott to Vulcan itself, admits that there is no way to return you to your universe. They can send you to *a* universe, but they can't even begin to estimate the odds that it will be the one you came from. So you're stuck here. Which makes most of their interest just prurience I see no reason for you to satisfy."

He fell silent, watching their reactions. Jim sat forward in his chair. "There's a chance I could get another ship?"

"A chance, yes. But if you want that, you're going to have to undergo all the usual intake testing, the graduate testing, the psych reports, the physicals, the training cruises and simulations. It would be almost a year before I can give you an answer. Maybe a whole year wasted."

"What about Spock?"

"Based on what we know about the differences between your universe and this one, you and Mister Spock have a lot of remedial training to do. Mister Spock, more so. However, the Academy can fill in the gaps for him. It appears that our technology and science is a bit more advanced than yours was." Nogura fell silent for a moment, and then sighed.

"Jim... Spock. It's bizarre, but it seems like your temporal accident may be the very reason that we are further along the technological scale than your own universe is. If you hadn't influenced Doctor Redding, we might be living your lives. We owe you a debt, but it's a strange debt. Those of us in the 'know' keep wondering if our lives were completely different a week ago. We have no way of telling. Without your interference in Doctor Redding's life, he may never have started experimenting with sub-space. Yet, when I hear about you getting warp drive a century later than we, I think, 'that's not a bad thing'."

Nogura sipped his tea. "And so, I think this universe owes you a debt, gentlefolk. I think Spock is more than up to learning about our sciences and becoming a first class science officer. And if he fulfils the requirements of a first officer in this day and age and universe, who knows? Don't get me wrong, gentlemen. Your first real assignment will probably be as a helm officer and a junior science officer. But the offer of training is here."

Through the bond, both men felt their mutual delight and astonishment. Both faces stayed absolutely rigid. Spock finally sat forward. "You recognize, officially, that we are a bonded couple under Vulcan law, and realize that any posting assigned to one, must include the other?"

"I do. Yes. Sarek made that quite clear. For Sarek, read 'all of Vulcan'. Thanks to our other Kirk and Spock, we have all kinds of standard operating procedures written up to cover your situation."

"Do you also realize that we are without any form of income or support that satisfies Jim's need to work for a living, and that we will require living quarters and some form of allowance?"

"Also made abundantly clear by Vulcan, but something we take into consideration with 'scholarship' cases anyway. You would have quarters together, on campus, a large double. Meals provided, and uniforms. An allowance... god, that sounds like such an insulting word to use to you, but it's certainly not enough to be called a salary. I think you'll find you're too busy re-qualifying and fooling the psych-counsellors to have much time to spend extra money." He tapped his desktop lightly. "First of all, we have to find out how far along you are, in terms of our own standards for assigning officers to deep space, and we have to make sure you won't crack if you run up against another incident. It will be a full year of advanced remedial training... don't give me that look Spock, I know that sounds like an oxymoron in Vulcan but in Standard it's logical."

"If you say so, sir." Kirk smiled as he felt Spock trying to puzzle out 'advanced remedial'.

"I'll help with that one later, Spock. Admiral, I need just a moment to discuss this with my bondmate. Do you mind?"

"No, by all means. Talk. Make me jealous one more time... okay, that isn't your intention, but take a joke, most humans envy the sort of bond you have. I'm going to get us some coffee. Black tea, Mister Spock?"

"Affirmative, Admiral."

/Spock. I just realized something. In all the fuss of the last few days, I got careless. I know how we changed this universe!/

Spock pinned him with a look. /?/

/Redding. It wasn't just meeting us and seeing the starship. Don't you remember? You were going to build a sub-space radio amplifier. You printed out a complete parts list! Sub-space research would have led him to warp research! It was us!/

Absolute astonishment overcame the Vulcan mask for a moment, and then Spock was rigidly in control again. /You are correct that I forgot them. I left the lists beside his computer terminal. A child could have assembled the device./

/From there he could start experimenting with the nature of sub-space./ They sat in silence for a moment. /I don't think we should tell them./

/No. It would serve no purpose./

/Spock, I really want to accept this offer. I want to get back to space, to my life. I want that perfect job with my perfect partner./

/I want that, too. I accept this challenge./

/Then let's show them how it's done, my heart. Ahhh, it's good to be home!/

Finis

Rae