1. Scattered Bonds

There had been a strange silence lingering between them all day. Spock had caught the eye of his captain numerous times and James T. Kirk had responded with a reassuring smile that should have set things right. But his eyes betrayed him. Starfleet Command was sending the Enterprise right into the middle of an impossible war. The risks were high and the likelihood of success low – 276'000'000 to 1, according to Spock's calculations. The mission may as well have been suicide.

Kirk had never feared for his life, although slight apprehension before any dangerous mission was not uncommon to him. This is what he lived for: space exploration, adventure, the risks and thrills. If he was going to die then by Hell it was going to be on his starship. Yes, the Enterprise is where he would fall, by the side of his First Officer, his Vulcan, his Spock. But Starfleet had overridden his command this time, demanding not only that Captain Kirk remain on the bridge throughout the course of the mission, but also that Commander Spock be the one to lead the guerilla team onto the hostile and warring planet they now headed towards with unnerving speed. Starfleet had insisted that the delicate task of disabling the planets central computers and effectively shutting down a weapon more devastating than the Genesis device could only be undertaken by the likes of the highly skilled Vulcan science officer. Kirk had fought to be permitted to join the landing party, but Starfleet denied him, the Enterprise needed its captain. It's captain, who held in his mind the various codes and secrets of the Federation, it's captain, whose capture by an enemy of such magnitude could not be risked.

It was a hopeless situation from all angles. To save two worlds and disarm a weapon capable of consuming whole galaxies, Captain Kirk was forced to risk almost certain death, uncompromisingly separated from Spock. Spock – that heat-filled, graceful creature that commanded so much of his life that Kirk could not help but love him. The thought robbed him of breath for a moment, a pang of something painful tightening in his chest. Spock glanced over at him from the other side of the chess board.

"Captain?" he asked in his smooth, measured voice. Kirk shook his head slowly, his eyes falling to the table.

"Don't do that Spock," he said, his voice wavering slightly. With a sharp sigh, James Kirk rose from his seat and headed for his bed, flopping down with a longer, drawn out breath. Spock stared at him for a moment, analyzing the human gestures carefully. Then, when he had made his deduction and decided on a course of action, the Vulcan rose. Carefully, he took a glass from a nearby cabinet and poured the rich scented alcohol that his captain favoured into it.

"Jim."

Kirk's eyes opened slowly to fall upon Spock, offering him the glass. He smiled and gratefully accepted the gesture, sitting to pour the alcohol down his throat in a single, swift motion before falling backwards again. Spock took his glass from him and set it down on the table. Humans were most illogical creatures.

"I'm sorry Spock," Kirk apologized gently, "I just…I don't want you to call me 'captain' right now."

Spock raised his eyebrow slightly, his dark eyes searching Kirk with something slightly softer than his usual Vulcan inquiry. It was clear to him that the captain suffered a great weight, while he himself subdued similar burdens. Sometimes, Spock reminded himself, it was all too easy for a Vulcan to forget the workings of the human heart. His captain needed him. With all the elegant grace of a shadow at dawn, Spock slid onto the bed, taking Kirk's hand and lifting him into an embrace. Jim Kirk grasped at the blue jumper that was Spock's uniform, burying his face into it and absorbing the warmth that emanated from the Vulcan.

"There is no need to apologise Jim," Spock assured him gently, cradling Kirk's head and stroking his golden locks of hair, "I quite understand."

Kirk sighed again and Spock felt some of the tension in Jim released as the captain let his weight fall against him. Despite his seemingly effortless emotional control, Spock had indeed sensed – even felt! – the gravity of the oncoming mission. He knew – perhaps even better than Kirk – that his return to the Enterprise was not only unlikely, improbable and not to be expected, but that it would also be futile. As soon as the central computers were disabled, the Enterprise would fall under attack from two fronts whose weaponry was far more advanced than anything Scotty could come up with. Spock knew it would be a battle of near impossible proportions to save the ship and its crew. He recalled with…frustrating…clarity the human saying, 'a captain always goes down with his ship.'

"Spock. About the mission…it will be…"

"Dangerous. I am aware of the risks, Jim."

"Yes, I'm sure you are."

"Why then do you mention it, Jim?"

The gentle tone of his voice provoked a surge of emotion in Kirk. It was a rare and often fleeting occurrence to hear such a tone from Spock. Still clinging tightly, Jim lifted his eyes to meet the Vulcan. Spock's eyes were dark, as always, and deep with the intelligence behind them. But Kirk saw an unusual shadow in those eyes tonight, a dull sadness and perhaps an uncertain desire to shed his Vulcan control and weep with his captain. No, Kirk reminded himself, Spock wouldn't allow it. Not even for him.

"Tell me Spock," Kirk asked, his blue eyes hinting a certain desperation, "tell me something logical to ease the things I feel, tell me how a Vulcan reasons with inevitability. Tell me how you are coping with this Spock, I need to know."

Jim's hands released his First Officer and found their way to Spock's face, cupping them against his delicately narrow cheeks. The Vulcan, silently lowering the shades that hid his emotions, took the captain's hands and let his head fall forward until his forehead pressed softly against Jim's. An almost undetectable sigh mingled with a low murmur passed Spock's lips as their tips of their noses brushed together softly. The sensation sent waves of euphoria shooting through Jim's spine as though it were the column of energy that had beamed him up and down, back and forth so many times. Spock had a way of transporting him, even just for a few moments, out of the burdens and tribulations of starship captaincy. Without realizing, Jim had begun to weep softly, his tears cooling his cheek from the heat of the Vulcan's skin against it. He let himself succumb to the light pressure of each soft kiss that Spock now pressed against his temple.

"It is illogical to assume an absolute where there is still as little as 0.001% chance in ones favour. It is illogical to succumb to defeat when one considers that even a slight chance is a real chance, for nothing unreal exists. It is logical to take into consideration the skill and experience of the crew as a potential variable to my initial calculations," Spock crooned, his words punctuated by fleeting kisses, "despite the accuracy of logical calculation, this crew, you it's captain, and I it's commander have overcome unfavourable chances at an average rate of 79.255% of occurrences."

Kirk smiled. How was it that Spock's logic comforted him so much? It had always been that way, having the Vulcan on-board was an inexplicable relief not only to the captain, but the entire crew. Slowly, he let his lips brush against Spock's neck and over his jaw, lingering at the very edge of his silken lips. The ripple of electricity that surged through Spock pleased Jim to no ends. He knew what the Vulcan felt, he knew that he could make him feel. Spock hid nothing from him

"I don't want to let you go," Kirk whispered, "I don't want to lose you."

"Nor I you. It is…illogical, this mission. "

"I know."

It hit heavily, as though space had suddenly lost its vast weightlessness. Jim Kirk found himself locked in the strength of Spock's embrace and barely realized that he had flung his own arms around the Vulcan, gripping onto him tightly. They pulled one another close, as though attempting to meld body as well as mind, fingers clawing for a tighter grip. Spock, despite himself, let a wave of grief pass over him as he transferred his energy into Jim's mind. It was the only way he knew how to assure the human of his love. Gently prying himself slightly from Jim's grip, Spock placed a hand against the captain's face, stroking his thumb tenderly against the soft, human skin. He looked deep into the eyes of his captain, seeking the place where their minds could be joined as one. He knew he had found it when Jim ceased to be before him and became instead a part of Spock's very own being.

Jim?

Spock.

Jim.

Are we in your mind or mine?

Neither and both at the same time. Give me your feelings Jim…share with me.

I…I'm afraid Spock…

I am here. Show me.

I don't want to die without you, can't do it, did all that I could, wasn't meant to be like this, Spock I can't, don't go, would do anything for you, wanted to die with you, can't live without you, Spock, disobey command, come with you, I am the captain, my ship, please don't leave, Spock? Spock, where are you? I need you Spock, where are you?

Jim, I am here. I have you in my arms and in my mind. I am here.

I know. I can feel you.

T'hy'la.

Oh Spock…yes, t'hy'la. You know I am. T'hy'la.

Jim. James.

Say it again…

James.

Spock I want to…

What is it Jim?

Can't you see?

Yes…I see. Jim…you do not know what you ask.

Spock removed his touch, breaking the meld. He watched as Jim regained himself, staring intensely into the eyes of his human uncertainly. Quickly, Kirk met his gaze with all the strength and sincerity that made him the captain of the ship. He had let the Vulcan see his fears and his heart just as he had been permitted access to Spock. Now, he held the eyes of his second in command, waiting.

"You…wish to bond with me?" Spock asked softly, cautiously. He knew that Jim had always used his position as captain to ensure that in the most dangerous of missions, they were at least together. That had always been enough. But now, on the verge of certain death, separation was an unbearable prospect and James Kirk realized that he wanted more.

"You have never asked me, all this time Spock, but I knew it was what you wanted," Kirk confessed sincerely, "I have left it too long and now…well, this may be the last chance I have. It may be the last time I ever have you again. We only have a few hours more, I owe you years Spock…"

"James, you owe me nothing, you have given me everything," Spock replied, grasping Jim's hands. He lifted them to his lips and kissed them. "You are my t'hy'la Jim, for that and all of our years together, I am grateful."

"Spock. Bond with me," Jim pressed, his eyes flooding with sincerity, "if not for yourself then for me. I want to be yours and to call you mine, even if it ends up only being for a few hours before we lose each other entirely."

"You are making assumptions of certain death, Jim."

For a long moment, Spock searched Kirk's eyes. He had shared three pon farrs with his captain since their relationship transcended friendship and brotherhood. Countless times they had almost lost one another and countless times they had moved the very stars to avoid it. Jim was correct, there was nothing Spock had wanted more than to bond with him, but to bond with a Vulcan was to ask a lot of a human partner. He felt Jim's touch on his hand, tracing his index finger. Images passed between them, exchanged back and forth until it was hard for Jim to tell which were his own.

"Are you certain?" Spock asked. Jim took his hand and pressed their palms together, the sudden connection with Spock overwhelming him for a moment. He felt the arm of the Vulcan coil around him, holding him close. Kirk gasped, breatheless.

"Jim, this will not be easy for you," Spock warned, squeezing Kirk's hand gently.

"I'm certain," Jim whispered against Spock's ear, letting his chin rest on the shoulder of the Vulcan. Spock paused for a moment before gently squeezing Kirk's hand again. He shuffled backwards, carefully maneuvering Jim to sit in his lap. Slowly, he curled his index and forefingers around Jim's, straightening them out with a gentle brushing motion. Their eyes met, as though fixed together by a gravitational pull.

"Spock?"

"Yes Jim?"

"Can I…well, do you mind if…"

"Of course."

As Kirk leant forward to kiss the Vulcan, Spock pressed their fingertips together. Time seemed to slow as flesh connected, burned, melted together. In his mind, Jim could see the delicate threads of tissue that made he and Spock unravel to nothing before gradually weaving back together as a single, whole and luminous being. He felt himself connected to Spock in every way. Slowly, the most hidden recesses of the Vulcan's soul were revealed to him, deep pools of suppressed emotion now entirely available to Jim Kirk. He had never known that Spock held so much from him, the scope of the Vulcan's control now apparent to Jim in all of its magnitude. No wonder the Vulcan people had found peace through logic, such depth and intensity of emotion would be otherwise difficult to control. The history of Vulcan became clear to Kirk now, they had indeed once been passionate people on the verge of self destruction until logic had cooled their hearts. How Jim longed now to know the feverish surge of those passions, the very same that surfaced in Spock without fail every seven years. Some things truly were inescapable.

Like their bonding, now.

Spock had never revealed so much of himself to a bond-mate before. T'Pring had never held as much of him as James Kirk did. There had been other women too – Leila and Zarabeth – who had intrigued him, but it had always felt like a madness followed by guilt. Nyota Uhura had loved him and he had cautiously returned her affections for a while. But Uhura was so, so human and she longed for human things. Indeed, aside from his mother, Spock had never known a human woman capable of coping with the Vulcan coolness for long. They longed for love and though Spock had loved her, he could not and would not show it. Strangely, their parting had not caused him undue grief. But James T. Kirk was something else all together. He was pleasantly human, strong and full of human ego. But he did not need constant reminders of love, only constant loyalty from the Vulcan. That was something that Spock could offer without hesitation or compromise.

The world twisted and contorted around them, reforming itself anew. It was no longer a separate world around the captain, but a unified world around him and Spock, together. At first Jim was alarmed, he felt claustrophobic, as though his personal space had been invaded. But as he adjusted to the presence of his Vulcan lover in his world, he grew remarkably at ease with the sensation. Indeed, he clung to it as though it may suddenly vanish and leave him feeling empty and alone. Jim had never realized how alone he had felt in his own skin until now. He wondered how that sensation must have felt to Spock after T'Pring had broken their bond and the thought hurt him deeply, it had never occurred to him and Spock had coped with it…alone.

"Shhh, calm yourself James," Spock whispered gently in his ear, "such things no longer matter."

With perfect clarity, Spock sensed the tumult of emotion that was rising in Jim Kirk. Bonding was a deeply emotional experience for Vulcans, let alone humans. He knew that Jim did not fully understand how the simple touching of two fingers could draw them so close. He was human, he needed other things. Spock was aware of the desperation and longing that drove the deep, plunging kisses that his captain offered and he was content to return them with all the love and care Jim needed. Bonding was overwhelming for humans, the sheer intensity of it could plunge them into deep depressions for weeks, months on end.

"Jim, tell me what you need," Spock lulled in a voice so soft and low it was barely audible. The captain reluctantly broke away to meet the gaze of the Vulcan. His human eyes were awash with feelings, startling bright and chaotic in a way that captured Spock's attention completely. Even a new planet viewed from space or the magnificent display of an ionic storm couldn't match the beauty of those oh-so human eyes. Jim did not need to answer. Like so many times before, the captain to spoke to his first officer with a simple look that told Spock everything he needed to know. Without breaking the gaze, Spock slowly leant forward, pushing Jim backwards onto the bed and crawling over him. Jim shivered as the pulses of electric shocks ran through him.

"Fascinating…" Spock exclaimed, brushing his fingers down Jim's neck and observing the waves and ripples that affected his flesh. Jim smiled his usual, charming smile, eyes burning again with all the cunning and sharpness that made him a starship captain.

"What, me?" he played. Spock was confused only for a split moment before picking up on that ever confounding human tendency towards pretence. It made Jim laugh, a response that always put Spock at ease. Swiftly, Jim clutched Spock's shoulders and rolled, flipping the Vulcan beneath him instead. Spock did not mind or resist.

"Jim, as much as I regret to dampen the moment," Spock said, his voice measured as always but the tone slightly lower, gentler, "I must remind you that we have only 2.271 hours remaining before beam down."

Kirk brushed his fingers across the perfect cheek of the Vulcan. He smiled sadly, taking in every miniscule detail of Spock with all the clarity of Vulcan bonding. He could feel Spock and see every part of him like he never had before. He was with Spock and of Spock and Spock was of him. They were one.

"Then I suggest making the most of what time we have," he said, pressing his thumb gently against the lips of the Vulcan. Spock's eyes seemed to fall deeper and deeper, swallowing the captain alive in his stare, as he planted a kiss on Jim's thumb.

"A most logical suggestion."

"Bridge to Captain Kirk, acknowledge -"

"Kirk here-"

"Captain, we have entered the planet's orbit and are ready to beam down the landing party on your command, sir."

"Acknowledge. Standby. Kirk out."

Spock felt the captain's body tense in his arms. Despite his own conflict with the inevitability of separation and potentially death, he tightened his embrace, stroking Jim's arm to comfort him. Kirk let out a staggered breath as he shifted back into the position he had slept in before the communication had woken him. He pressed himself close against Spock, slowly lifting his eyes. There was very little change in the Vulcan's expression, but there was a change, so subtle that no human would have noticed. Except James Kirk.

"Spock…"

Jim stifled his urge to cry by thrusting a rough kiss against Spock's lips, his hands grasping greedily at the smooth, black hair and narrow cheeks. He pressed his forehead against Spock's, drawing in the spicey Vulcan scent of him. The tears were coming, hammering hot at the corners of his eyes, demanding to be released. No, Kirk admonished himself, no. He would be strong for Spock, he would not cry and send his love away with memories of tears. With all his strength, Jim smiled, kissing Spock again, gently this time.

"Jim – James – in the event that I do not return," Spock began, but Kirk cut him off.

"No. You will return," he said fiercely, "I command it Spock. You come back to me."

"I want nothing more," Spock replied sincerely, his voice tainted with something Jim had never heard before, "but I can make no such promise to you."

"I know Spock," Jim admitted weakly, breaking free of the Vulcan's embrace only to wrap his arms around Spock, cradling his head against his own chest. Spock could hear Jim's heart beating…it was more rapid than usual.

"I don't want you to be alone, Jim," Spock confided quietly, "I want to give you my katra so that if anything happens – to either of us – you will not be alone. It is a logical choice, but it is also one of…"

"Feeling,Spock?" Jim offered, knowing the Vulcan would struggle to say it.

"Yes."

"But what about you, Spock? I don't want you to be alone either."

"Jim, a Vulcan is never without his bond-mate," Spock said, his tone brighter and full of something that, had Kirk not known him better, resembled happiness, "I will take you with me wherever I go."

"Okay Spock," Jim whispered, pressing a light kiss against the pointed tip of Spock's ear, "if it is truly what you want, I would be honoured to accept your katra."

"It is what I want Jim," Spock promised, his fingers coursing their way through the blonde hair of his captain, "it is yours already. It always has been."

Spock stepped onto the deck of the transporter. He could hear the low hum of energy as it waited to be released, energizing the matter that made him and materializing it on the planet surface below. A team of four stood behind him, their anxiety pronounced and infectious. Scotty stood at the controls, ready and waiting for the captains order. Doctor Bones Mcoy was making his final checks of the team, his eyes brushing over Spock with a certain hesitation.

"Spock, I err…well, I mean…look you just take care of yourself down there okay. Doctor's orders."

"Doctor," Spock responded calmly, "you have my word."

Without thinking, Bones grasped the Vulcan's hand, clutching it tight between his own. Spock realized suddenly that the good doctor was trying to express his concern and grief. He had not noticed, his mind was elsewhere. Not wishing to upset the sentimental human, Spock relented for once, placing his spare hand on the doctors and patting it reassuringly.

"Thank you Doctor Mcoy," he said sincerely, "I understand. You have been and ever shall be in my thoughts."

Bones stared at Spock for a long moment before nodding and offering a brief smile. He let go of the Vulcan and turned away quickly to exit the transporter room. As he did so, the captain entered. Bones locked eyes with him briefly as Kirk passed him. His eyes darted from Kirk to Spock and back to Kirk. He knew it would be a difficult farewell. On the verge of an emotional display he knew the Vulcan would point out as highly illogical, Mcoy retreated to the sickbay.

"Transporter ready, Captain," Scotty declared in his rich Scottish accent, "ready to beam down when you are sir."

"Thank you Scotty," Kirk replied, "stand-by."

His eyes fell to Spock. More than anything, Jim Kirk wanted to rush into his embrace and beg him to stay. They could disobey orders, lose the ship, be renegades together, couldn't they? He knew what Spock would say: illogical. Starfleet would not let them get away with it so easily. He looked into the eyes of his Vulcan, saying so much silently, as they so often did. Spock returned his sentiment, masked as it was by his Vulcan ways.

"Mr Spock," Kirk said, struggling to hide the pain in his voice, "come back to us. That's an order."

Spock nodded once, slowly, his eyes never falling from the captain's.

"Yes captain."

"Spock!"

There was a silence that seemed to engulf the transporter room, to Kirk, there was nothing but he and the Vulcan, his t'hy'la, his bond-mate.

"Captain," Spock offered cautiously, hiding anything that might hint the things he felt, "live long and prosper."

The tears began to well in Kirk's eyes, but he fought them back. With clenched fists, he prepared himself. His eyes never left Spock as he gave the order.

"Energize."

And in a glimmer of pure energy, the deep eyes that held him were gone. Spock was gone. Scotty left the transporter room, sensing that the captain needed a moment alone. But Jim Kirk wasn't alone. He could feel it in his heart and soul, he held part of Spock with him, his katra, his living spirit. They were bound as one. With a deep breath, Kirk swallowed his tears.

"Live long and prosper Spock."